An Officer and a Princess Page 8

  His heart banged painfully into his ribs at this thought. Had she been kidnapped? Taken to the same place where her father was being held?

  He’d stood outside on the sidewalk and looked first one way, then the other. There was no way to know which direction to go, where to even begin to search for her. He’d gone back inside, once again checking every nook and cranny of the tavern.

  Panic roared through him. Was she hurt? He knew Isabel wouldn’t have gone willingly with anyone. She would have kicked and fought like a wild woman. He knew how well versed she was in hand-to-hand combat. She’d excelled at self-defense techniques while in military training.

  But, if somebody had slipped some sort of drug into her drink, or if they’d somehow managed to sneak up behind her, she could have been taken down easily. And even though everyone he asked professed to have seen nothing, Adam trusted no person in the dive.

  The panic he’d tried to tamp down exploded inside him. He would never forgive himself if something had happened to her. He should have never agreed to this crazy scheme in the first place.

  He was just about to decide that he needed to call the palace and send for help when she walked through the door. Her cheeks were flushed with pretty color and her eyes sparkled brightly.

  And the sight of her, seemingly oblivious to his worry, both relieved and enraged him.

  The moment she stepped into the door he grabbed her by one arm. “Where in the hell have you been?” he demanded, wanting nothing more than to take her by the shoulders and shake her senseless.

  “I went for a walk,” she said slowly.

  He stared at her in disbelief. “A walk? You went for a walk?” The urge to shake her grew stronger, but more than that, he wanted to grab her to his chest and hold her tightly, assure himself that she was truly all right.

  And this need only made him more angry. “You went for a walk without me? Just got a crazy impulse and took off? What in the hell were you thinking?” he thundered.

  “Adam, let’s talk about it upstairs.” She tried to pull her arm out of his grasp, but he refused to release her. “Everyone is looking at us,” she said, the color in her cheeks intensifying.

  “Give him hell, honey!” One of the working girls yelled from someplace nearby.

  The feminine voice made Adam realize they had drawn the attention of everyone in the place. Still firmly holding on to her, he headed for the stairs.

  As they started up the stairs, hoots and hollers followed them, the men yelling for Adam to take control of his wayward wife, and the women shouting their support for Isabel.

  Adam was only vaguely aware of their jeers and cheers. The anger that roared through him was like a wild animal clawing at his insides.

  He had no idea why or where she had disappeared to, but the fact that she had taken such a chance in going out alone, had not given a moment’s thought to how he might react to her disappearance, shot a red-hot fury through him.

  He didn’t release his hold on her until they were in their room, then he slammed the door and faced her. “What in God’s name were you thinking? You took a walk?” He eyed her in utter astonishment. “Do you have any idea what kind of a risk you took in going off alone? I was just about to call the palace and tell them to send out the royal security.”

  “I’m sorry, but it couldn’t be helped.”

  “The hell it couldn’t,” he exploded. “Have you forgotten that you are a princess? That the people who kidnapped your father would probably love to add you to their lair as well? You might want to be Bella Wilcox, but you aren’t and you can’t just go running off alone.”

  She sank down onto the edge of the bed, her short skirt riding precariously up, exposing her silky, shapely thighs. For just a brief moment as Adam stared at her, he momentarily forgot why he was so angry.

  He wanted her. How he wanted her. His anger was overridden by the stronger emotion of lust. A shudder worked through him as he fought to control the want and instead attempted to refocus on his ire.

  “What in the world was so important that you had to leave without me?”

  She jumped up and walked toward him until she stood toe-to-toe with him, a flame of answering anger igniting in her eyes. “If you’d stop yelling at me for a minute, I’d tell you where I went.”

  Her mouth was mere inches from his and suddenly Adam was no longer in control. Anger merged with desire, relief combined with want. He grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her roughly against him as his mouth sought hers with ravenous hunger.

  Her response was instantaneous. She looped her arms around his neck, leaned into him and returned the kiss with a hunger to match his own.

  The world seemed to pause. Anger fell aside, royal intrigue was forgotten, as the kiss deepened…and lingered. Adam worked his hands up her back, then lightly touched the sides of her breasts. He felt almost light-headed, dizzied by the intimate contact.

  She leaned back to allow him to touch her even more intimately. As his hands came into full contact with her breasts, she moaned into his mouth. The hardness of her nipples pressed up through the material to meet the heat of his hands. She moaned again. The sound of her pleasure swept pleasure through him.

  As he thought of all that could have happened to her, that she might have been kidnapped—or worse—while out on her own, a moan slid from his throat.

  “You have no idea what you put me through,” he said as he broke the kiss and moved his lips to the sweet-smelling skin just beneath her ear. “You have no idea what kind of fear went through me.”

  She pulled back from him, her eyes glazed with desire. She grabbed one of his hands and tugged him toward the bed. “Show me, Adam. Show me how glad you are that I’m all right. Make love to me.”

  Her words doused him with cold reality, and he stepped back from her, his anger returning tenfold. “Of course I’m glad that you are all right. I’ve already got one black mark against my name. If anything happens to you, I’d be held accountable.”

  The beautiful light in her eyes dimmed with each word he spoke. Once again she sat on the bed and this time he kept his gaze carefully focused away from her sexy legs. He also desperately tried to put out of his head the fact that she’d just asked him to make love to her.

  But the pain in her eyes haunted him. He swept a hand across his jaw, wanting to take away that pain. “Isabel,” he said softly. “We can’t get caught up in this fantasy we’re living right now. We are not Bella and Adam Wilcox. And, no matter how difficult this all gets, you can’t ever forget that you are Princess Isabel.”

  He frowned. He had no right to kiss Princess Isabel, much less make love to her. Yes, it was important that she not forget who she was…but it was more important that he didn’t forget who he was…Adam Sinclair, the son of a traitor.

  Chapter Seven

  “I can’t help but think if we can figure out who stands to gain by my father’s kidnapping, then we’ll know who the insider is at the palace,” Isabel said.

  She and Adam were in their room, waiting for the time they would meet Pam and infiltrate the group that was responsible for the actual kidnapping of King Michael. But, what Isabel wanted was the person who was at the heart of the treachery, the mastermind behind it all.

  “We’ve gone over this before,” Adam said as he paced the small confines of the room. As usual, he looked like a restless lion passively rebelling against the confines of a cage.

  “But, we’ve got to be missing something,” she replied.

  For the past two days, ever since she’d thrown herself at him, asked him to make love to her and he had responded so coldly, they had endured a cool distance between each other.

  It was a distance broken only when they played their roles of Adam and Bella Wilcox, and in the unconsciousness of sleep.

  Adam had rejected the chair in favor of the bed for sleeping. At night, they got beneath the covers, careful not to touch one another, careful not to in any way cross the invisible barrier of personal spa
ce.

  But, in sleep, they found one another. His arm would curl around her, or her leg would fold across one of his. It was as if in unconsciousness, their bodies hungered for one another, their skin sought the touch of the other.

  Each and every inadvertent physical contact suffered during the day was a torture for Isabel. If his hand brushed against hers, her heart leapt in response. If his shoulder bumped against hers, she felt a tingling jolt clear down to her toes.

  “The first person who would have the most to gain would be Nicholas. With your father gone, he becomes king,” Adam said, not halting his rapid pace back and forth in front of her.

  “But we know Nicholas wasn’t involved because they kidnapped Ben impersonating Nicholas,” Isabel replied. “Besides, Nicholas would never do anything to hurt Father.”

  Adam stopped pacing and nodded. He raked a hand across his jaw, as always looking surprised to feel the growth of whiskers on his chin. “I agree. Prince Nicholas is a good man. And that leaves the next in line to succeed, your Uncle Edward.”

  Isabel frowned thoughtfully, trying to stay focused on the conversation and not remember the absolute wonder of awakening in Adam’s arms. “I just can’t believe Uncle Edward would be behind all this. He returned to Edenbourg after years in the States because he wanted to reconcile differences between himself and my father. I can’t fathom that he returned here to have my father and my brother kidnapped so he could be king.”

  Adam finally stopped his pacing and sank into the chair. His eyes were dark, hooded as he looked at her. “That scenario is especially difficult to believe since Edward’s talking about stepping down already.”

  “And Luke would be next in line for the crown.” Isabel thought of her cousin. “But, it seems so farfetched to think that a man who is fourth in the succession line would go to all this trouble. I mean, how could Luke know his father would get ill and relinquish the crown?”

  “I agree. Edward is a relatively young man. What is he, mid fifties?” Isabel nodded and Adam continued. “It’s conceivable that Edward could have reigned for the next twenty-five or thirty years.”

  “A long time for a mastermind to wait for his reward,” Isabel replied.

  “I agree.” Adam looked at his watch. “It’s time.”

  Isabel’s heart jumped. It was time. Time to meet Pam. Time to infiltrate the group that had kidnapped her father. She hoped…prayed that by the end of this night they would have some answers. She stood and together they started for the door.

  “Bella and Adam Wilcox are now on stage,” Adam murmured and grabbed her hand.

  He held her hand as they made their way through the crowded bar. Isabel loved the way his hand felt around hers. So big and strong, so utterly masculine.

  He released hers only when they stepped outside and started up the street in the direction of the bus stop where they were to meet Pam.

  The moment he let go of her hand, she felt bereft, and it was at that moment she realized the depth of her love for Lieutenant Commander Adam Sinclair.

  She loved him as she’d never loved anyone before in her life. She loved him with a depth and breadth that nearly stole her breath away. The realization struck her like a lightning bolt jolting through her and she stumbled. Adam grabbed her to keep her from falling on her face.

  “All right?” he asked, his gorgeous gray eyes as unreadable as ever.

  She nodded, afraid if she spoke she’d blurt out her love for him. He dropped his hands and they continued on their way, Isabel’s heart like a hundred-pound stone in her chest.

  She loved him. She had loved him years ago when she’d been a raw recruit and he’d been her commanding officer. At that time she’d known that to push the issue might destroy his career.

  But, now the obstacle was no longer their careers. The real obstacle was his heart, and it was obvious that as much as she loved him, he didn’t…or wouldn’t…love her back.

  “You okay?” His low voice broke into her thoughts.

  No, I’m not okay. I’m in love with you and I don’t know what to do about it. I love you and my heart is breaking into tiny pieces. “Sure, I’m fine,” she replied. “A little nervous,” she admitted.

  “A little nervous is good. A little nervous means you understand that what we are about to do is dangerous. A little nervous will keep you on your toes and thinking clearly.”

  “Are you nervous?” she asked.

  He shot her a quicksilver smile that warmed her heart. “A little.”

  Pam was already at the bus stop and when she saw them she hurried toward them. “I hope I’m doing the right thing,” she said worriedly after Isabel introduced Adam.

  “Of course you are,” Adam said, his tone gentle.

  “You are absolutely doing the right thing, not only for Princess Isabel, but for the country.”

  His words and kind tone seemed to calm Pam, and Isabel only loved him more for knowing instinctively what the fragile woman needed at the moment.

  “Then I guess we’re off. It’s a bit of a walk, but nobody drives to the meetings.”

  They walked four blocks with nobody saying a word. Isabel had never been in this particular part of Edenbourg before. Most of the businesses were closed, their windows broken or boarded up. The houses were small, unkempt. Neglect and abandonment was everywhere.

  “You haven’t been able to remember anything that Shane said as to where the king is being held?” Adam asked softly as they walked.

  Pam shook her head in obvious frustration. “I’ve done nothing for the past two days but rack my brain for anything that might help you. The only thing I ever heard Shane say was once I heard him on the phone telling somebody that the king bee was hidden in the honeycomb.”

  “The honeycomb? What could that mean?” Isabel asked.

  Pam shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe nothing. Maybe it was just an expression Shane used, and it doesn’t mean anything at all.”

  “You can’t remember anything else?” Adam pressed.

  “Sorry.” Her expression mirrored her regret.

  “But, if I do, I’ll tell you. Now, no more talking. We’re nearly there.”

  They walked another half a block, then left the street and made their way through tangled underbrush on the property of an old abandoned church.

  Pam led them to the back of the church where the door hung askew, held to the rotting wood by a single, rusty hinge.

  Graffiti defaced the exterior walls of the old building and Isabel’s heart ached as she thought of her father held in a place as dismal or more dismal than this.

  If there was a meeting going on, it was a quiet one, Isabel thought. Inside the church the only audible sound was their footsteps crunching the broken glass and garbage that littered the floor. It looked as if nobody had been in the place for years.

  For the first time Isabel wondered if Pam was leading them into a trap. Was Pam truly a rebel’s grieving lover attempting to undo what had been done? Or was she a rabid revolutionary intent on ridding the world of all the Stanburys?

  Isabel looked at Adam and he must have seen in her eyes a flicker of her sudden doubt and fear. He reached for her hand while his other hand moved to his waist. She knew he had a gun tucked beneath his belt and hidden by the large T-shirt that was untucked.

  Pam led them through what had once been the sanctuary and was now filled with trash and broken wooden pews. The evening sky was visible through a hole in the ceiling.

  “This way,” Pam said, motioning them to follow her into what had once been the small vestry. No longer did the room hold sacred robes and items. The shelves that lined one of the walls were all empty.

  Adam and Isabel watched in amazement as Pam swung the bookshelves out to reveal a set of concrete stairs leading down.

  “A bunker?” Adam asked, his voice holding amazement.

  “That’s right. It’s an old World War II bunker,” Pam said. “We’ve all been meeting here for the past year and a half.”


  As they descended the concrete steps, again a million doubts assailed Isabel’s mind. She was grateful that Adam still held her hand. As Pam reached to open the door that would take them into the bunker, Isabel squeezed Adam’s hand.

  They were about to find out if Pam was a friend, or if she was a very clever insurgent who had fooled them both.

  Adam had not relaxed since the moment they had arrived. The “group” consisted of about twenty people, mostly men. The instant they had stepped into the concrete bunker, Adam had felt the thick tension of suspicion…a suspicion that had been dispelled when Pam had introduced them as Shane’s cousin and her husband.

  Apparently Pam’s endorsement and the familial connection to Shane Moore had been enough to allay distrust. They were accepted without further question.

  Still, Adam had remained on guard throughout the meeting. The cold metal of the gun in his waist-band had been a small comfort as he realized probably half the men in the room were carrying.

  During the actual meeting, there was no mention of the imprisoned king. What there was, was a lot of long-winded rhetoric and political pipe dreams. First one, then another stood to vent frustrations and demand that it was time for change. Adam found the speeches boring, the men zealous and the whole atmosphere disturbing.

  Officially, the business of the meeting was now over, but most had lingered to mingle and make small talk. He and Isabel had remained, hoping to learn something of significance.

  Adam kept Isabel at his side, an arm thrown territorially around her shoulder. He tried to ignore the heady scent of her, and the way her bare arm felt beneath his fingertips. Instead he tried to stay focused on how difficult this particular ordeal had to be on her.

  Not only was she hoping somebody would say something that would lead them to her father, but she was also listening to a lot of anti-Stanbury sentiment.

  He scanned the room, trying to discern the pecking order within the group. So far it had been difficult to figure out who was the boss…who exactly was in control.

  Several of the males were loud and verbose on the subject of the country needing change, but Adam suspected they were merely minions with mouths and no control. Adam had a feeling the real leader of this band was probably one of the men who had sat through the official meeting saying nothing.