His Forbidden Princess (13 page)

“Sir, it’s Ian Stuart. We have a situation.”

Ian explained what he could to Sofie’s father who planned to call his contact at the State Department as soon as he was able to speak to his daughter. Their conversation was brief, and the princess didn’t say much after she got off the phone.

She needed comfort, but he was just too busy finding information to do much for her. He had to do his job. If he didn’t and something happened to her, he’d never forgive himself.

But unable to resist her pull, he sat next to her on the couch and extended his arms. Sofie was in them immediately.

“I know you’re working, and I shouldn’t be so needy.”

He tucked her against him, adjusting his gun to stay out of the way. “You’re afraid, it’s understandable.”

“I can’t believe all the people we’ve trusted have betrayed us.”

“I’m sure it’s not all. But I understand.”

“How?” She cleared her throat. “How am I supposed to trust anyone? Anyone?”

“You can trust me. You can always trust me.”

Burrowing into him, they both jumped when a crash came from outside.

“Oh, my God.” Sofie jumped in her seat

“Shh. The wind could have taken something down. It could have been a tree or some

furniture may have broken loose in the wind. Don’t panic.” He didn’t think for one second it was the wind. Whatever was happening outside, Ian was certain of one thing—there wasn’t a chance in hell he was getting any reinforcements from the Archduke or otherwise.

Another noise. A truck door maybe.

“Sofie, I need you to do exactly what I tell you.”

“Because of the wind?” She kneeled up on the couch and faced him. “You’re a terrible liar, Ian Stuart.”

“Exactly what I tell you,” he said again. She was so damn stubborn.

“You’re joking, aren’t you? When have I ever done exactly as I’m told? It’s not in my DNA.”

He smiled in spite of himself. “True enough, but I want to check the perimeter and I need you in a secure location.” She was going to hate this. “You have to lock yourself in the small bathroom around the corner.”

“What?”

“Look, it has a locking door. There’s only a tiny window for a vent, so no one can climb in. It’s safe.”

“It’s a deathtrap. If no one can climb in, that means I can’t climb out. There’s nowhere for me to go if I have to run.”

Yeah, she was going to be difficult. Ian pinched the bridge of his nose. “Where do you want to hide?”

“Nowhere. I want to come with you.”

“That’s not happening.”

“Why not? I’ll get one of those big iron pots in the kitchen. That should pack a wallop.”

“Sofie,” he grabbed her shoulders. Shit, he was tense. “Honey, you’re not coming with me. I need to know you’re safe.”

“But…”

He laid a finger on her lips. Ian knew she was scared; so was he. But there was no way she was going out in the storm to face someone who probably wanted her dead. “The closet in your room. It locks and there’s a window that leads out onto the garage roof. Take one of those iron pots, if you want, and hide in there.”

Her lower lip trembled. Ian didn’t know if she was upset or scared. He was guessing it was a little of both. “Come on, Sofie. The longer I argue with you the more time whoever is out there has to make a plan.
Please
. I can’t do my job until I know you’re safe.”

“Alright. Don’t do anything foolish.” She kissed him, sweetly, like everything between them was new. “And don’t get hurt. I couldn’t bear it.”

“I won’t. Here’s the cell.” He’d shown her how to make emergency calls earlier; he just hoped she didn’t have to. “You need to get yourself locked in.”

“I love you, Ian.”

“I love you, too. Now get moving.”

Trotting off with a water bottle he’d handed to her and the cell, Ian heard her climb the stairs and then close and lock the bedroom door. Hopefully, she stuck to the plan and went into the big closet. He hated having his emotions tied up like this, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to go back to living without her in his life. She was everything to him and, one way or another, it would work out.

Opening the hall closet, Ian yanked an army green canvas duffle onto the wood floor and opened it. He pulled out a field jacket that would protect him from the weather a little, and his lucky baseball cap, which he put on backwards. There was an assault rifle in a locked cabinet, and he toyed with getting it, but he had three extra magazines for his Glock, so he didn’t take out the rifle.

He did examine his combat knife and decided that wasn’t a bad idea, so he tucked the sheath into the back of his jeans.

Ian was so damn pissed. They would have been fine if that blowhard of a secretary of hers hadn’t opened his trap. Nobody knew where they were. Sofie had been nicely anonymous.

But the best news he’d gotten was that the authorities in Aubonne had shut down the main terrorist cell, and Homeland had stopped two suspected assassins from entering the country.

They were so close to ending this nonsense, but now because of one person, Sofie was in more danger than anyone else.

There was a crash at the back of the house, glass breaking, and Ian kicked into gear.

From the corner of his eye, he could see two bodies in motion through the sidelights by the front door.

His bureau training would serve him well, but it was his special ops training that might possibly save them both.

He had to give the bastards credit. Timing this attack during a storm meant it would be that much harder for help to reach them. He didn’t know how many people he was dealing with, and he only hoped Sofie would be safe locked in the closet upstairs.

Not counting the subjects at the front door, he knew he had hostiles in the house, Ian didn’t know how many, but was obviously outnumbered. Ian had to count on not only his wits, but his knowledge of his environment and his training to get him through. Aubonne, for all the things it did well, had a small army that did very little except appear in parades and to provide occasional protection to the royal family.

Ian was a combat-tested Army Ranger who had engaged in hand-to-hand combat with more than a few bad guys. Unless Aubonnian rebels were fucking ninjas, he should be able to handle the assassins sent for the princess.

Sofie.
Normally a calm man, Ian felt the rage bubble up inside him. He didn’t care how much blood he had to shed, or how many dead bodies were left in his wake, Ian wasn’t going to let anyone hurt Sofie.

Not while he was still breathing.

According to the clock on the phone she was holding, Sofie had been in the closet for only ten minutes when she heard voices. There were two or three, but she couldn’t tell anything else. Not right away. Watching the rain come down, Sofie was figuring out her best option. The roof was too wet, she’d slide right off, and that was a lot different than easing her way down.

Not to mention, she didn’t know who was outside. There may have been a couple of

people in the house, but there was no guarantee there weren’t more outside even with the storm raging.

There was banging at the bedroom door and eventually a crash which indicated they’d broken in. Two voices. Louis definitely, and a woman.
Mariette
. Her bodyguard. This infiltration had gone as high as state security. No wonder all the plans were telegraphed. The question was, why hadn’t she killed her sooner? She’d had more than enough opportunity, why wait? And where was Ian? What had happened to him?

“Sofia,” Mariette called.
Stronza
. The woman was nothing but a two-faced bitch.

“There’s no reason to hide, princess. You’re safe now. We have a boat waiting to take you home.”

A boat
? To take her home to her landlocked country? Across the Atlantic? More lies, and on top of that, they thought she was stupid. They were probably going to throw her overboard in the storm. She’d drown for sure and they could say what a tragedy it was when they tried to rescue her.

There was a jiggling of the door handle, and Sofie grasped the hockey stick that had been stored in the closet. Between that and the cleaning products she’d found in a storage box, she was all set. They might try to take her, but she wasn’t going anywhere without a fight.

“This is locked,” Louis said.

“She must be in there. I checked the other rooms, the only thing I found next door were four empty condom wrappers. Once a whore, always a whore.”

Sofie cringed at the words.

There was a thud against the heavy door, then another and Sofie flinched with each one.

Where was Ian? Was he dead? How had this happened?

Finally, after several more hits, Louis came flying into the closet. He turned to where she was crouched on the floor and came at her. His large, blue eyes were bulging and all Sofie could think was that she had one chance to get the upper hand. One.

She whipped the spray bottle of window cleaner from behind her back and sprayed it

three times in his face. He screamed, but not nearly as much as when she rammed the butt end of the hockey stick right into his balls. He yowled and fell over, blocking the entrance just enough that Mariette couldn’t get at her easily.

Louis, the poor bastard, was clutching his crotch with one hand and his face with the other. He wasn’t saying much because he couldn’t really breathe.

“Your Highness, don’t make this more difficult.”

“You mean go to my death quietly? Are you insane? I’m going to make this as
difficult
for you as possible. You traitor.”

“I am a patriot,” Mariette shrieked. “And you are a spoiled, wicked bitch.” Mariette didn’t know what Sofie had done to Louis, so when her former bodyguard started into the closet, Sofie sprayed her as well, quickly and at close range. She screamed loud enough that she drowned out the howling wind and recoiled as the chemicals in the cleaner burned her eyes and her nose. Kicking Louis in the crotch one more time for good measure, Sofie left the closet with her now broken hockey stick ready to take on Mariette. What she found was Mariette crouched in a corner with Ian standing over her, his gun leveled at her head.

“Ian, thank God. Oh, thank God. I thought when they got up here, you were dead.”

“There are three more downstairs. They got to me first. I’m sorry.”

“You handled three of them?” Would he ever stop surprising her? The man was a

superhero.

“Eh, they were amateurs.” He glanced in the closet at the retching, gasping Louis and smiled. “You did okay. For a princess, I mean.”

The sound of several vehicles roaring in and stopping suddenly in the driveway made Sofie grab her hockey stick again.

“FBI,” someone yelled from downstairs. There were rushed footsteps, people racing up the stairs and loud voices.
Three in the kitchen. One looks DOA, a third is wrapped up with duct
tape. Any sign of Stuart? The princess?

“We’re in here!” Ian called out, and within seconds, three agents, their FBI jackets announcing their presence, were in the room, guns drawn. One took Ian’s place guarding Mariette, and another went into the closet to look over Louis. The third agent shook Ian’s hand.

“Sorry we got here late. It’s hell trying to get across the water in a tropical storm.”

Sofie only half heard what they were saying. Boys talking about shots fired and kills.

She was feeling nauseous, and tired and dizzy…then everything went black.

“Sofie,” Ian’s hand stroked her face. “Wake up, baby.”

Her eyes opened and it wasn’t just Ian she saw, but his friend, she thought Ian called him Paul and a woman who was also wearing an FBI jacket.

“How are you feeling?”

Sofie looked around and realized she was lying on the bed. That’s not what she

remembered. “What happened?”

He smiled. “You fainted.”

“Fainted? I don’t faint.”

“You sure did,” Agent Paul said. “Dropped like a stone. Probably the shock from the situation.”

“Thank you for that description, sir.” Maneuvering herself into a sitting position, Ian kept her steady.

“I wish you were dead,” Mariette spat. “You and your whole family.”

Without hesitation, Sofie exploded. So much for being in shock. Lunging at her former bodyguard, Ian had to hold her back. “You are a traitor and a murderer,” the princess snapped.

“Once you get back to Aubonne, our laws will take care of you. You and your kind, Mariette, will rot in prison.”

The agents led Mariette and Louis from the room, but Sofie was still furious. “I can’t wait to get home and watch her face justice.”

“She’s got a lot to answer for.” Ian pulled Sofie close, but a shot of pain made him wince.

“Ahh.”

“What? What’s wrong?” She sat next to him on the bed, he her hands trembling before she touched him. Not having time to stop her, Sofie slowly tugged at the neck of his shirt and looked inside. He knew right away when she saw the knife wound because she lost her breath.

“It’s just a scratch.”

“A scratch? It’s not a scratch.” Shoving him back on the pillows made him grimace

again. “Special Agent Burns,” she called out. “He’s been stabbed.”

“What happened, man?” Paul asked.

Ian shrugged and the movement made his shoulder burn. “One of the guys in the kitchen had a knife.”

“Ah, which one?” Paul was a detail guy.

“The dead one.”

Sofie’s eyes went wide. “Someone is dead?”

“One dead, one in serious condition, and one with an incredible need to unburden

himself. We’ll be getting a lot of information out of that guy.” Paul was enjoying this way too much.

There was more commotion as paramedics arrived to look at him. People were getting around easier because the storm had blown through leaving some damage in its wake, but it hadn’t been nearly as bad as it could have been. There was a lot of debate about whether they were going to load him in an arriving chopper to go to the hospital or if they could get a local doctor in to stitch him up and leave it at that. He didn’t care too much what they did as long as someone did something. It hurt like a bitch and it kept on bleeding.