By Order of the Prince Page 4

  She was naked and clinging to Antoine’s broad dark shoulders as his mouth made love to hers. His kiss held a mastery she’d never experienced, a silent command that she respond with every fiber of her being. And she did. It was impossible not to.

  His strong hands stroked up the length of her bare back and then around to cup her breasts. Sweet sensations cascaded through her at his touch. She was on fire with her need for him. It didn’t matter that he would be gone before she knew it, she only knew that she wanted what he offered, longed to stay in his arms.

  A moan filled her head, not her own but rather his and not from her dream and not one of pleasure.

  A louder, more tortured moan pulled her from her dream. Her eyes snapped open and for a moment she couldn’t discern dream from reality.

  Her heart pounded with a quickened rhythm as she sat up and shoved strands of hair away from her face. A glance at the illuminated clock next to her bed told her it was just after two.

  The noise came again, this time louder, deeper and definitely not from her dream, but rather coming from someplace outside her bedroom door.

  The prince!

  Was he in trouble? Had somebody found out he was here and was now trying to strangle him or hurt him in some way? Oh, God, she knew having him here had all been a mistake!

  She jumped out of bed and grabbed a flower vase from the top of the dresser, the only thing she could think of that might be used as a weapon, and then ran into the living room.

  In the spill of the moonlight through the windows she instantly saw that there was no danger, that Antoine was not being strangled or beaten by an intruder. Rather he was obviously in the throes of a terrible nightmare.

  She set the vase down at her feet and then crept closer to the sofa, trying not to notice how his powerful bare chest gleamed in the moonlight as he tossed and turned and emitted deep, mournful groans.

  “Antoine,” she whispered softly.

  He groaned again, the intensity of it filling Beth with immense empathy. What sort of dreams could evoke the sounds of such pain, such an emotional outburst while sleeping?

  She called his name again, this time louder, but it wasn’t enough to pull him from his tortured sleep.

  She stepped even closer to the sofa and lightly touched his shoulder—and found herself shoved against the wall, Antoine’s hands wrapped around her neck as his eyes blazed with an unfocused fire.

  He’d moved off the sofa in the blink of an eye. She would have screamed, but she couldn’t. It had all happened so fast. Shock and the pressure of his hands against her throat kept her mute. For just an instant she wondered if he was going to kill her before he came fully awake.

  Reaching up, she managed to touch his cheek and in that instant saw the flames in his eyes douse as a searing focus took their place.

  He released a ragged gasp and dropped his hands to his sides. “Beth. Beth, I’m so sorry.” He pulled her off the wall and wrapped her in his arms. His bare skin was warm and she burrowed into him as the shock of the moment slowly faded away.

  “I might have killed you,” he breathed into her hair as he tightened his arms around her.

  She closed her eyes, delighting in the moment of being in his embrace. This wasn’t a man who had gone soft with good living. He was all hard, lean muscle against her. “You should come with a warning label—dangerous when awakened,” she murmured against his chest.

  His hands smoothed down her back. “Why did you awaken me?”

  She raised her head to look up at him. “You were moaning as if you were in terrible pain. It was obvious you were having a bad dream. I…I just wanted to get you out of your nightmare.”

  “It was a very bad dream.” He reached up his hands and cupped her face. “Thank you for waking me and I’m sorry if I hurt you.”

  Before she could guess his next move, he’d made it, taking her mouth with his in a kiss that ripped her breath right out of her chest.

  His lips plied hers with heat and even though in the back of her head she knew she should step away, stop the madness, she didn’t. Instead she opened her mouth to him, allowing him to deepen the kiss by delving his tongue to battle with hers.

  The fevered heat of his soft lips and the feathery touch of his tongue shot a well of want through Beth. His hands tangled in her hair as he pressed so close to her she could feel that he was aroused.

  Instantly she knew this was a bad place to be—the middle of the night, a handsome prince holding her tight and a heart she didn’t want broken again.

  She stopped the kiss and moved out of his arms. “That probably wasn’t a good idea.” She was surprised by how breathless she sounded. “Hopefully you’ll sleep okay now for the rest of the night,” she said, her gaze not meeting his. “And now I’ll just say good-night again.”

  She nearly ran back to the bedroom, grateful that he didn’t try to halt her escape. Sinking down on the edge of her bed she tried to forget the taste of him, the feel of his warm body against her own.

  He was sweet temptation, but she couldn’t allow herself to get caught up in any kind of an intimate relationship with him. That was heartache just waiting to happen and she’d already been there, done that.

  As she got back into bed she allowed her thoughts to go back in time, back to when she’d believed Mark Ferrer was the man who was going to be her happily-ever-after, when she’d believed that she was loved as deeply as she’d thought she had loved.

  She’d learned a very important lesson from Mark—that men could take you into their arms, look you right in the eyes and lie to get what they wanted.

  Beth didn’t know how to have sex without meaning. She simply wasn’t built that way. She wasn’t capable of physical release without emotional connection.

  Antoine’s kiss had tasted of fevered passion, but she knew that’s all he had to offer and that would never be enough for her. She finally fell asleep with the firm commitment to keep her distance from Antoine.

  The next morning when she left her bedroom dressed in her uniform of the pencil-thin black skirt and the white blouse with a gold WRR on the breast pocket, Antoine was already up and dressed as well.

  “Good morning,” she said, hoping he didn’t mention the kiss, praying for no awkward moments.

  “Good morning to you,” he replied. “I hope you don’t mind that I took the liberty of using the shampoo in the bathroom when I showered.”

  “Not at all,” she replied. “I don’t usually cook breakfast, but if you want something before we leave I’d be glad to whip something up.”

  “That’s not necessary. I can order something from room service when I get back to the hotel.”

  He seemed distant, antsy to leave, which was fine with her. Within minutes they were back at the hotel where she ushered him in through the employees’ entrance so he wouldn’t have to walk through the lobby.

  “If Jane calls I can count on you to take me back to her?” he asked before they parted ways.

  There was a part of her that wanted to back away from the whole thing, that needed to back away from him. The kiss they’d shared the night before had shaken her more than she wanted to admit.

  But, there was a soft plea in his eyes and she realized she was probably the only person he trusted at the moment and it was impossible for her to tell him no.

  “Just let me know if you hear anything and we’ll figure something out,” she replied. She turned to head toward her office but paused as he softly called her name. She turned back to face him.

  His eyes glittered with a flirting light that instantly created a pool of warmth inside her. “I look forward to kissing you again, Beth.”

  “Definitely impertinent,” she replied and then turned on her heels and quickly walked away to the sound of his amused laughter.

  Once she was in her office the routine of the day quickly took over and the morning flew by. She checked the schedule and the time cards to make sure all her staff had arrived and by ten o’clock had left her
office to do room spot checks.

  She gave soft reprimands when necessary and praise when earned. She knew her staff respected her, but they also liked her as well.

  Maybe Jane won’t find anything, she thought at noon when she hadn’t heard from Antoine. Maybe whoever had left that print on the papers wasn’t in the AFIS system. Maybe last night was the end of their little partnership.

  That would be good, she told herself as she returned to her office for a bite of lunch. He was far too charming, far too attractive and that kiss had dizzied her head and momentarily swept reason away. She was definitely better off keeping her distance from him.

  Still, it was almost impossible for her to get him out of her mind. More than once she found herself staring unseeing out her window as her mind replayed the vision of his muscled bare chest in the moonlight. Her lips wouldn’t easily forget the taste of his mouth against them. As crazy as it seemed, her body felt branded by the intimate contact with his.

  It was just after two when her cell phone rang and Antoine’s deep voice filled the line. “Jane called. She has a name. I’ll be waiting for you by the back door.”

  He gave her no chance to reply, but instead immediately hung up.

  AS ANTOINE WAITED FOR BETH he was filled with tense energy. He hadn’t asked Jane to give him the name over the phone, didn’t trust that somebody else might be listening in. He couldn’t be sure if her phones at her lab were bugged.

  He’d spoken briefly with his brother that morning. Sebastian had sounded happier than Antoine had ever heard him and he knew it was because his brother had found love with a woman he’d helped protect against her ex-husband. She was the same woman who had witnessed Amir crawling out of the wreckage of the limo.

  Jessica Peters had been reluctant to come forward since she and her little girl, Samantha, were in hiding from her ex-husband, a Russian by the name of Evgany Surinka. Eventually she’d come forward and her ex had found her. Sebastian had been forced to kill him and in the whole process he and Jessica had found love.

  Love.

  It was something Antoine would never allow for himself and he wasn’t sure how Sebastian had managed to forget that enemies sometimes hurt the innocent people in one’s life.

  Antoine had made many enemies in his position as top interrogator for the military, enemies who would love to get to him by killing anyone he loved.

  Antoine was determined not to make the same mistakes his father had made. He would never allow anyone to get close enough to him to be used as a target for revenge. He would never forget that his father had been unable to protect his mother from the men who had been seeking revenge.

  That’s what Antoine had been dreaming about the night before, when Beth had awakened him. In his nightmare he and Sebastian had been children and had been hiding as angry men had killed his parents.

  His thoughts slid from his dream to that moment when he’d held Beth in his arms. She’d been soft and warm against him, the thin material of her nightshirt barely a barrier between them. It had been a mistake to kiss her and it was a mistake he wouldn’t mind repeating again and again.

  Spending time with Jessica Peters’s four-year-old daughter, Samantha, had shot a surprising desire inside Antoine, a desire for a woman to love and children to raise and a life much different than the one he’d led.

  But, the choices he’d made for his country would forever keep him alone and with a loneliness deep in his soul that would never be assuaged.

  As Beth’s car pulled up against the curb he left the hotel and hurried toward her passenger door. He slid into the seat and instantly was enveloped by her floral scent.

  “I hope I don’t get you into trouble, taking you away from your work,” he said.

  She pulled away from the curb. “It’s not a problem. The hotel manager is covering for me. I told him I needed to take some personal time off and since I rarely take any time off at all it was fine.”

  He nodded. “Good. The last thing I’d want would be to mess up your job, your life, before I return to Barajas.” It was a reminder to himself not to get in too deep with her, not to think anymore about how sweet, how hot her kiss was and how very much he’d wanted to lose himself in her.

  “I’m not about to let that happen,” she replied firmly.

  “You look tired.”

  “I am tired,” she admitted. “I had trouble sleeping after I got back to bed.” Her cheeks colored with just a hint of pink.

  The kiss they’d shared had certainly made it difficult for him to go back to sleep. It had felt like it had taken hours for his body temperature to return to normal. “But your day has gone well so far?”

  “A normal day. What about you?”

  He tried to relax against the seat. “I spoke to my brother and also to Sheik Efraim.”

  “Did you tell them what we found?”

  “No. I’m keeping this information to myself for the time being and I would like to remind you to do the same.”

  She nodded. “The seventy-two hours Jane gave you is quickly ticking off,” she reminded him.

  “With a name from Jane I can hopefully find out what I need to help find Amir or at least know who might be behind those notes and the attacks.” He turned to look at her. “You said you know the locals. What I’d like you to do for me is to make a list of anyone who has recently come to town, perhaps gotten a job at the hotel.”

  “We do pretty thorough background checks on all of our employees.”

  Antoine released a dry laugh. “Backgrounds can be hidden or made to look exemplary.”

  “I’ll be glad to make you a list of the new hires,” she replied as she pulled into the parking space in front of the courthouse. “And I’ll make some subtle inquiries about new people who have come to town, but that’s going to be a big task considering all the reporters who have camped out since you all arrived here.”

  “I think the person or persons behind these attacks would have arrived in town just before the reporters.” He opened his car door, his stomach tight with nervous energy as he thought about the name Jane was about to give him.

  Whoever had arranged for the limo explosion had also paid off local officials and henchmen. There was money behind this operation—lots of money.

  If he could get a name, then maybe he could figure out exactly where that money was coming from instead of the idle speculation they’d all indulged in up until now.

  All thoughts fled from his mind as they took the elevator to meet Jane. At the moment he was focused only on getting the name of the person who had handled those notes before him, the person who had sent them to Amir.

  Why his friend hadn’t shared the content of the notes with the others in the coalition was a mystery. There was no way of knowing exactly when Amir had received them, if he’d gotten them before he’d left his country or after he’d arrived in the States.

  Had the person who had written them been the one who had picked up Amir at the bomb site? Was Amir now a prisoner or had he been killed and his body buried someplace out in the Wyoming wilderness that surrounded them?

  Jane met them at the elevator door and ushered them into her private office. “I still don’t feel right about not taking the notes to Jake,” she said in greeting.

  “You promised us some time,” Antoine reminded her. “And from everything I’ve heard about you, you’re a woman of your word.”

  Jane’s cheeks flushed red and she lifted her chin. “And I’ll keep my promise, but if you find out something you need to take all this to Jake, and if you don’t, I will.” Her voice was filled with steel, letting him know she meant business.

  “You said you have a name for me.”

  Jane nodded. “Aleksei Verovick.”

  Antoine stared at her in stunned surprise. “Are you sure?”

  “It was a perfect match,” Jane replied.

  “Do you know him?” Beth asked.

  “I know of him. Verovick is reputed to be the second-hand man in the Russi
an mob,” he replied, his mind racing with supposition. This was proof that the mob was behind the attacks on the royals. Or was it? It was also possible that Verovick had gone rogue. Certainly he was a man who would be capable of anything if the price was right.

  “But why would the Russian mob care if you all made trade agreements with the United States?” Beth asked in confusion.

  “They shouldn’t care,” he replied. “Unless somebody has bought them and is paying for them to care.”

  “Today is Tuesday,” Jane said thoughtfully. “I’ll give you until Friday evening and then I’m taking this information to Jake.”

  He could tell by the look on her face that there was no more wiggle room, that he wouldn’t be able to talk her into any more time. “Then I’d better find some answers before Friday evening.” He touched Beth’s arm and gestured toward the door. “Thank you, Ms. Cameron. I appreciate your cooperation.”

  “You only have it for three days,” she reminded him as he and Beth left the office.

  “What are you going to do now?” Beth asked as they left the building and headed for her car.

  “Do some research into Verovick and see if I can figure out who’s paying him and his men to destroy the coalition, to destroy all of us. Do you have a computer at your place?”

  “Yes. You want to do the research on my computer?” Her voice held a touch of surprise. “Your suite has a computer and Internet access.”

  “If you don’t mind, I’d rather use yours. I don’t know who might enter my room when I’m not there, who could access the history on my computer to see where I’ve been. I have to be careful.”

  “Then we’ll go to my place,” she agreed easily. “You’re welcome to use my laptop as long as you need to.”

  They got into the car and Beth started the engine. “I’m fairly ignorant about politics,” she said as she backed out of the parking space. “I don’t understand why anyone would want to stop what you all were doing here. A trade agreement between any of the COIN nations and the United States sounds like a win-win situation to me.”

  Despite the anxious burn in his belly, he smiled at her, unsurprised and charmed by her naïveté. “There are some people who believe that these trade agreements are just the first step of our nations being consumed by the United States. And then there are Americans who believe that we’re all terrorists and this is just our way of attempting to infiltrate America’s security.”