The Duchess and Her Bodyguard. Mollie Molay

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СКАЧАТЬ at the warning, May glanced around the crowded room. The marine band continued to play, flutes of champagne were still being passed around, and the remaining guests appeared in no hurry to leave. If there were danger here, there was no evidence of it that she could see. “I’m sure you’re exaggerating, Commander. And the second?”

      “I’ll look over your list, but I have no intention of changing my mind about being the one to decide where we go tomorrow.” Wade’s gaze locked with hers. “And remember, the Secret Service stays. In the meantime,” he added softly, “why don’t you put yourself in my hands, Your Grace? I promise you’ll enjoy yourself.”

      She stared at him, and for a moment her expression softened. For a moment he thought she was going to agree with him. Instead she caught her breath, turned on her heel and headed back to the ballroom.

      After being invited to call her May, he could have sworn his charge was about to turn into a human being instead of an imperious royal. Maybe it was just as well she’d walked away when she had. If she hadn’t, he would have been tempted to forget the lady had a motive of her own. Or to forget how much he’d been attracted to her.

      Futile dreams, he told himself with a sigh of regret as he left for his apartment. He and the duchess were two strangers passing in the night. She’d been born to the cushioned life of a member of a royal family where her every wish was a command. He was a former All-America basketball hero turned lawyer who’d worked for everything he had. By her standards that couldn’t be much.

      He’d have to play out the next few days carefully. He had to stop thinking about his never-to-be-realized attraction to the beautiful and sensuous lady in white and the invitation in her eyes.

      He had to concentrate on not only protecting the duchess from herself; he had to protect her from him.

      TO EASE WADE’S WORRY about security, his access to the Blair House the next morning was screened by the same two Secret Service men he’d noticed the evening before.

      “No uniform today, Commander?” The older of the two identified himself as Samuel Hoskins and his partner as Mike Wheeler.

      “No,” Wade replied with a tight smile, replacing his identification in the inside pocket of his loose-fitting jacket. “I was hoping to fade into the landscape.”

      “With a charge like the duchess, good luck,” Hoskins murmured as he eyed the gun and holster Wade wore under his jacket. “I see you’re prepared.”

      “Yeah,” Wade answered as he shifted shoulders unaccustomed to the weight of the gun and holster. “Is the duchess up and ready?”

      “She’s finishing breakfast. Said to tell you she’d overslept but would be out in a minute.”

      Wade nodded. He hadn’t slept much last night. Instead he’d spent the hours lying awake thinking about the intriguing duchess and the amusing way she’d tried to assert her independence. In some ways, in her imperious way of speaking and in her assertive manner, she was an echo of the past. But the chances she was late because she’d lain awake thinking of him was wishful thinking. Royalty and the common man were like oil and water—they didn’t mix. And neither did he and the duchess.

      As for the Secret Service, the duchess had been right. In their navy-blue suits, white shirts and black ties, they were a little on the conservative side; however, they did fade into the landscape. Only the small official button in their coat lapels gave them away.

      The duchess didn’t know it yet, but at thirty-six, he was just as conservative as they were. At least when he was on duty. It wasn’t only the duchess’s life that could be at stake. It was his future, too. And, like everything he took on, he intended to take this tour of duty seriously.

      He eyed his two navy-clad partners. “How about you guys? Ready to roll?”

      “We’ll be right on your tail,” Agent Wheeler assured him. “But it would help to know where you’re going.”

      Wade shrugged his shoulders. “First stop is Wal-Mart. After that, who knows? You’ll have to wait until I get a chance to talk to the duchess.”

      Their eyes swung to the lady in question when she finally sailed into the room. To Wade’s dismay, she was dressed in her version of dressing down—white linen slacks and matching fitted jacket and a green silk shirt that almost matched the color of her eyes. Green pumps were on her feet and a large straw bag hung from one shoulder. He was relieved to see she wasn’t wearing any valuable jewelry he had to worry about.

      “No uniform today?” She looked disappointed.

      “Not today,” he replied. If she’d asked for him as an escort solely because of his uniform, she was out of luck. “Today we’re going to play at being ordinary folk.”

      Ordinary folk. Wade smothered a remark when she raised her eyebrows. No way was the lady going to be able to play at being ordinary. Not when she looked as if she’d just stepped off the cover of Elle magazine.

      “Wal-Mart, here we come,” he muttered under his breath. “Is there someplace private where we can talk before we leave?”

      She handed him a slip of paper. “If this is what you wish to talk about, I’ve already made a list of the places I want to see.”

      Wade glanced at the list. Planet Hollywood. Hard Rock Café. The antique shops at the Capitol Hill District. The infamous grunge Morgan-Hill shopping area. The list went on and included places Wade knew from experience were definitely not for royal visitors. Especially one who could be the target of troublemakers.

      The only item on the list he felt comfortable with was the National Portrait Gallery. He sighed and pocketed the slip of paper.

      “We can decide later,” he said with a sidelong glance at the fashionable royal outfit. “First, we have to buy you some less obtrusive clothing.”

      Over the duchess’s protests, he stopped to tell the Secret Service men to follow him before he hailed a cab. No way was he going to travel around D.C. in a black unmarked car that broadcast Secret Service presence.

      “No car?” Her eyebrows rose suspiciously.

      “Not today. It’s in for repairs.” He handed her into the cab and directed the driver to Wal-Mart. The duchess looked annoyed when she walked in the door, but thank goodness she kept her thoughts to herself. If she didn’t know what Wal-Mart was, she was in for a surprise. “Anyway, Your Grace, after we get through shopping, we’ll probably get by more easily by taking the tourmobile around the mall.”

      “Tourmobile? Mall?” The Duchess frowned. “They are not on my list.”

      “Maybe not,” Wade replied. “But they are on mine.”

      He had to give the duchess credit when she bit her bottom lip and silently browsed her way through racks of inexpensive brightly colored summer clothing.

      May refused to let her temper show. She’d agreed to dress down but she wasn’t thrilled about the variety of choices. Designer clothing was more what she was accustomed to wearing. Still, an agreement was an agreement if it would get her to where she wanted to go.

      She had put the National Portrait Gallery and a few well-known museums on her list to throw her escort off the track. The Capitol Hill District and its antique shops СКАЧАТЬ