King's Ransom (Man on a Mission 2)

Don’t think about that now, her heart warned her. Don’t think about Andre.

She passed the little library, her feet making no sound on the thick carpet runners that lined the hallways, resolutely thrusting away the memory of her encounter with Andre there the day before. Don’t think about that now.

She laughed under her breath, a ghost of a sound. Those words were becoming her mantra—don’t think about that now. As if she could ever not think about Andre, especially here in the palace.

A slight sound behind Juliana had her whirling around in sudden panic, her heart jumping.

Her eyes frantically searched the shadows as well as the patches of light all the way down the corridor, but she saw nothing. No movement. Nothing to be afraid of. “Old buildings creak,” she muttered. “That’s all it is.”

She turned back and continued making her way toward the suite that had once been Mara’s. She knew it was unoccupied. She’d run into the master of the household the week before—she’d remembered him as well as he’d remembered her—and they’d chatted about those long-ago days and about Princess Mara. The old man had always had a soft spot for Mara and Juliana, indulgently overlooking their teenage girlish pranks—more Juliana’s doing than Mara’s, who’d always tried to be so perfect to please her father, although that had been impossible. After several minutes the master of the household had told Juliana he’d intended to house her in Princess Mara’s old suite for sentimental reasons.

“But the king overruled me,” the master of the household had said in his formal way. “I trust you are comfortable where you are?” At the time Juliana hadn’t known why the king had overruled him, but it made sense now she knew of the connecting passageway between her bedroom and Andre’s.

Just before Juliana reached the door to Mara’s suite she mentally kicked herself as she realized her quest was most likely for naught—the door would probably be locked, especially with all the strangers—movie people—being housed in the palace for the duration of the filming. And she didn’t have the key. Sure enough, when Juliana tried the old-fashioned latch it refused to budge.

“Damn!” It wasn’t so much that she was desperate to revisit the scene of some of her happiest teenage memories with Mara—although she would have liked to see the suite again—but she’d wanted something to distract her from thoughts of Andre that stubbornly kept popping into her head. Something to block out his voice calling to her.

She jiggled the latch, but it held firm. “Damn,” she said again, but without heat this time. When she reluctantly turned around to head back to her own suite, she froze when she saw four men surrounding her. Guns drawn and pointing at her.

* * *

The phone call hadn’t wakened Andre. He hadn’t been to bed yet—hadn’t even undressed. “Miss Richardson is on the move, Sire,” the voice on the other end of the phone had said. “It is after midnight, and I thought you would want to know.”

“Destination?”

“Unknown. But she does not appear to be leaving the palace. She is still on the second floor.”

“Good man. Stay with her. I will be with you shortly.”

* * *

Four men in camouflage clothing and desert-style boots confronted Juliana outside the door to Mara’s suite. She had no idea how they’d managed to creep up on her with such stealth, and sudden terror brought the metallic taste of fear in her mouth. When the man closest to her—obviously the leader of the team—recognized her he lowered his weapon, but the other three still kept their guns pointing in her direction. “What are you doing here at this time of night, Miss Richardson?” the leader asked.

Juliana opened her mouth to answer, but no words came out because her heart was pounding too hard and she could scarcely catch her breath. Then she saw the badges they wore on the arms of their camouflage uniforms—Zakharian National Forces—and was able to breathe again. Only then did she remember the security briefing she’d received along with everyone else staying in the palace. Motion detectors in the common areas are operational from midnight to 5:00 a.m., they’d all been warned. Please do not leave your suite during this time.

The motion detectors weren’t the only security in the royal palace to protect the priceless antiques, paintings and other objets d’art owned by the king, Juliana remembered now from the security briefing. All the paintings on the walls were wired for touch, as were the numerous display cases. And the crown jewels were housed in a separate area of the palace—strictly off-limits to visitors except by appointment—guarded by electronic eyes as well as human guards. By leaving her suite after midnight in violation of the warning, she’d set off the silent alarm.