I rolled my eyes, but I couldn’t hold back the wide grin that curved my lips. “You’re incorrigible, Prince Nicholas.”
My husband waggled his brows at me. “I am, indeed. But that wasn’t a no.”
Digging into my pasta, I heaved a long, happy sigh. “You’re right. It wasn’t a no. It was more like a ... convince me to say yes.” I paused. “AfterI enjoy my dinner, that is. And maybe after we cuddle a little and catch up with each other’s days.”
Nicky nodded. “I get it. Priorities.”
As it happened, that night we didn’t, uh, romp in the sheets as my husband had phrased it so eloquently. But we did end the evening wrapped in each other’s arms, content.
And that was perfect bliss, in its own way.
IALMOST ALWAYS KEPT MYphone on silent mode at night. Since most of my family and friends lived in a completely different time zone, if I didn’t do that, I’d be hearing notifications and alerts while I was trying to sleep. After I’d moved to England, Harold had showed me how to change the phone settings so that only certain people’s messages or calls could override the silent mode.
So when my phone trilled in the early hours of the morning, while it took me a moment to blink awake, my first thought was panic. If my phone was ringing, it was because there was some kind of emergency, something bad ... something wrong.
“Relax.” Next to me, Nicky slung an arm around me and pulled me tight against his warm chest. “It’s probably something about work, or one of your sisters needing advice. Don’t freak out.”
“Yeah.” I reached for my phone. “Let’s hope.” Frowning, I squinted at the read out on the screen. “It’s Simon. What on earth could he want? I’m supposed to see him in a few hours, for the groundbreaking on the new field at the Tottenham gardens.”
Without waiting for Nicky’s answer to my rhetorical question, I hit the button to answer. “Hello?”
“Good morning, ma’am. I apologize for the early telephone call, but something came to me through Palace channels, and I thought you’d want to know as soon as possible.”
I cleared my throat and shifted my pillow to cushion my back. “What’s going on?”
“Apparently, there was a break-in last night at Lackett Nursery. Someone went into their growing areas and greenhouses and sprayed pesticides on all of their plants. They’ve lost thousands of pounds worth of inventory.”
“What?” My brain was still sleep-addled, and what I’d just heard didn’t make any sense. “Why would anyone do something like that?”
“The police don’t have any suspects yet, but it’s early, of course. Whoever did it set off an alarm before they left, which is how the crime was discovered so quickly. But the owners did indicate that they’d received some anonymous emails and voice messages since the announcement of their involvement with the Tottenham gardens.”
“This is the first I’ve heard of that.” I’d met the owners of the nursery before we’d announced their sponsorship, and then again at the time of the official statement. I was supposed to see them today, when we cut the ribbon on the new field, the one their help was making possible. “Did they file reports with the police? About the messages, I mean.”
Nicky sat up, frowning, his eyes questioning. I gripped his arm and squeezed before I held up one finger to indicate that I’d explain in a moment.
“Unfortunately, they did not.” Simon’s tone didn’t fluctuate. “They thought them nothing more than annoying pranks at first. And then they thought perhaps the calls came from business rivals, jealous of their new opportunity, and they didn’t want to make waves.”
I sighed and covered my eyes with my free hand. “This is terrible. Are they horribly upset? What a stupid question—of course they are. All that waste and loss. Are they cancelling for today? Should we call it all off?”
“Actually, ma’am, the Lacketts are not cancelling at all. They insist that they are going ahead with the partnership, despite all of this. But the police felt that the Palace should know, of course, and we’re increasing security measures for the ceremony today. Also, considering the connection with the Royal Family, the investigation will be taken over by Scotland Yard.”
“I understand.” I nodded, my eyes sliding to Nicky. “Is there anything else I need to know, Simon?”
“At this point, ma’am, you know everything I do. I’ll be happy to provide you with an update on our way to the garden this morning, if there is any more information available by then.”
“Thank you. I’ll see you at nine, then.” Ending the call, I dropped my phone onto the mattress and fell back against my pillows. “Holy shit, Nicky. Someone sabotaged Lackett Nursery.”
As I filled him in on what Simon had just told me, I watched my husband’s face darken and his eyes narrow.
“They don’t have suspects? Isn’t there a security camera at this nursery?” he demanded. Without letting me answer—not that I knew whether or not they did—Nicky picked up his own telephone. “I want to know everything. I want to know what evidence they already have, and I want to know if someone has taken credit for doing it.”
I tilted my head, my forehead wrinkling in confusing. “Taken credit for it? Why the hell would anyone announce they’d committed a crime? This isn’t terrorism, Nicky. It’s probably as the Lacketts thought—jealous business rivals.”
“I can’t see anyone who works with plants willing to destroy them, even if they are upset about the Lacketts’ opportunities with you,” he retorted. “And itis, in fact, terrorism, Kyra. Just because something happens in our own country doesn’t mean it isn’t. The purpose is to disrupt, to engender fear and to cause panic. All of those are the earmarks of terrorists.” He scrolled through his contacts, glancing up at me. “You’re not going to the ceremony today, clearly. They’ll have to postpone it.”
I straightened my back. “Um, no, they’re not postponing the opening. Simon said the Lacketts were adamant that it should go on.” I shrugged. “There’s going to be extra security, if that makes you feel better, but I’m absolutely going to be there. This is something I’ve worked hard on for a long time, Nicky. It’s my baby. I’m not going to miss it.”
“You’re going to willingly put yourself in danger because you don’t want to miss a photo op?” Nicky glared at me. “No. You’re not going. I don’t care how much security they plan to add. I don’t fucking care if the head of Scotland Yard and MI5 both show up and flank you. You’re not going to be there.”
