AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Don’t apologize,” Liam told them when the two bodyguards stiffly began to do so as he and Alec entered the princess’s sitting room. “You did the right thing,” he said, pitching his voice to carry over the noise. “What’s the situation? Has anyone seen anything?”
Alec left the room for a minute, then the raucous alarm was mercifully turned off. When he returned he said, “The passive alarms didn’t go off. I noticed that right off the bat. So whoever or whatever set off the active alarm didn’t come from outside the estate.”
Both Alec and Liam focused on the princess, who’d been drawn from her bed by her bodyguards and spirited into her sitting room, and was perched in an armchair in the corner of the room farthest from the window, surrounded by three of her bodyguards. She was still in her nightdress, but someone had handed her a silk dressing gown in a deep shade of peach, which she had quickly wrapped around her person. And her long hair had been bundled up, tidily out of the way. Alec glanced around and asked abruptly, “Does anyone know what set off the alarm?”
No one answered at first. The Zakharians in the room turned to the princess, and she shook her head, taking charge in a calm and composed manner. “I do not know,” she replied in a steady voice. “I do not think it was one of us.”
Liam already had his cell phone out and was pressing a speed dial button. Everyone was startled when a cell phone rang nearby, and all eyes were drawn to the doorway from the bedroom into the sitting room, to the tall man who suddenly stood there as if he’d materialized out of the darkness.
“I set it off,” Trace said in his deep voice, as he casually silenced his cell phone and leaned against the doorjamb, his gun safely in its shoulder holster. But there was nothing casual in the way he took in the status of the room, and he nodded approvingly to himself. Everyone had reacted exactly as they should. The princess’s bodyguards had quickly moved her from her bedroom to the safest, most defensible place in the sitting room, and were shielding her with their bodies. Alec, who had the duty today, had responded promptly. His brother, Liam, who Trace had known was sleeping in the guest house even though he wasn’t on duty, had also responded exactly as Trace had hoped—guarding the princess wasn’t the kind of job where a man was ever really “off the clock,” not if he was anywhere around her.
And the princess? She obviously wasn’t hysterical. She wasn’t even frightened by the alarm, not that he could see anyway, just alert and wary. And that surprised him. Somehow he’d thought she’d be the weak link, terrified at the potential threat, and he grudgingly gave her points for remaining cool under duress. He wondered if this was the first time she’d ever faced this kind of situation, or if there had been attempts on her life before. There hadn’t been anything about that in her dossier, but then he’d already realized the State Department’s dossier on her was woefully incomplete.
Both Alec and Liam had holstered their weapons at Trace’s initial statement, and now Alec said with a touch of humor in his voice, “Fire drill?”
“Yeah.” Trace straightened and walked farther into the room, heading right for the princess. “I’m sorry,” he told her gently, “but it was necessary. I had to be sure everyone knew what to do in an emergency. Your men and mine.”
She stood up, and her bodyguards deferentially moved to one side. She tightened her belt around her waist with a decided snap, then she looked up into Trace’s eyes. “It was a test?” she asked levelly.
“Yes.”
Her next question was unexpected. “Did we pass?”
“With flying colors.” When her brows drew together, questioning what he meant by that proverbial phrase, he explained, “Honorably successful.”
“Ahhh.” She nodded as comprehension dawned. “Good.” She tore her gaze away from his and glanced around the room at everyone there. “Does this mean we can all go back to sleep now?”
Trace couldn’t help it, a smile tugged at his mouth as she asked the question in a practical, no-nonsense tone. “Yes, ma’am,” he told her, for once not using the word princess. “Everyone can stand down.” Before she could ask, he added, “That means suspend and relax from an alert state of readiness. Return to normal. And since it’s—” he glanced at his watch “—two-fifteen in the morning, yes, everyone can go back to sleep.”
Everyone but me, he thought, but didn’t say. He had a report to write. And since the report would no doubt end up in the hands of the king of Zakhar, passed along by the State Department, it needed to be thorough...and reassuring.
