The Princess's Forbidden Lover Page 2

  “Which means what, exactly?”

  Her smile was wan. “I love my people, sir, and I see my function in life wrapped up in serving them. But I reserve just a little of myself for myself alone. Does that make sense?”

  An intensely private man, Will found himself nodding. “Yes.”

  “So the woman who is to become your sister-in-law is a lovely person who will make an excellent Emira.” He repeated the words she’d uttered back to Lilah and now she heard the clinical detachment in them, as he must have done.

  “I have known Melania a long time. She is a kind person who has long understood that her duties would lead her to marry Kiral.”

  “You do not pretend it is a marriage of love?”

  Lilah’s expression was stricken and Will leaned even closer. “Off the record.”

  “Is there such a thing?”

  “For a moment, yes.” He reached down and pressed a button on his Dictaphone so that it made a soft clicking sound.

  “Thank you.” She swallowed. “You see why I do not speak freely? I would hate to say the wrong thing and have it be taken out of context.”

  “Am I taking your words out of context?”

  Lilah’s eyes were trained on the tape recorder. She bit down on her lower lip thoughtfully and then a small smile marked her lips. “There are many types of love,” she said finally. “My brother’s love for his country and his people; Melania’s love of her family and her family’s honour.”

  “But love, as is considered normal between husband and wife?”

  “Love is not so easily defined, is it?” She ran a hand over her knee, pushing away an imaginary hair. “Love does not need to burn brightly to exist. It can be a gentle flicker; the warmth of respect and admiration. And certainly Kiral and Melania admire one another. She is an excellent woman and she understands him almost as no one else. As the daughter of a King has a unique insight into a man like my brother.”

  “Yeah,” he swallowed. “But that’s a pretty insipid sort of love, isn’t it?”

  “It’s not for you or me to say.”

  “As his sister, you’re not led to speculate?”

  “To what end?” She blinked to break the mesmerizing web of confidence that was building around them. “Kiral will never sway from his course. He has agreed to marry her and so they will marry. It was an agreement entered into many years ago, sanctioned by our parents before we lost them. The marriage will be important to my people. It is as good as done.”

  Will nodded pointedly towards the tape recorder, reaching down to turn it on. “And so you’ve been sent to New York collecting ceremonial jewels for the occasion?”

  Back on safer ground, Lilah’s face transformed completely. The look of relief was marked. “Yes. An assortment of ancient gems has been on loan to MOMA. Some of them date back several hundred years. They’re beautiful.”

  A knock on the door sounded and Lilah startled, sitting back as far as she could in the seat and arranging her features into a mask of untouchable disinterest. It was a fascinating ability she possessed, to switch herself off completely, rendering the sparks of her personality completely extinguished.

  A servant entered and began to perform one of the many routine security checks that were undertaken. Lilah was used to them. Though her demeanour remained reserved, she nodded at Will to continue.

  “I’ve spent a fair bit of time in Delani. You are absolutely worshipped by your people.”

  Her smile was a rebuke. “In your culture, you find it easy to bandy about terms such as worship, forgetting that they carry a sacred implication. I am not worshipped, sir. I am no god.”

  Will thought shame-facedly of his Pulitzer. He did not deal in hyperbole. The use of the word had been a slip-up, and he didn’t make slip-ups. “Adored then. Popular.”

  “Yes, perhaps.” She cupped her hands around her tea, though it was nearly empty. The warmth was encouraging. “When my parents died, Kiral and I were really taken into the hearts of our people. Even more so than before. He was a young prince and I was still a girl. I think it was a very tragic event that inspired a great sense of nationalistic protectionism towards us.”

  He lifted his brows at her definition of the affection. “Your brother is respected. He is revered. Even perhaps feared, a little. But you seem to straddle effortlessly the boundaries of celebrity and royalty. You appear at pop concerts and polo matches, on yachts in the Mediterranean and art galleries, and also opening children’s hospitals or speaking on behalf of causes that are important to you. A google search brings up over sixty one million posts.”

  “Does it?” Her cheeks flushed with two perfectly round pink spots. “I had no idea.”

  And Will believed it. “To what do you credit your popularity?”

  “I told you,” she said softly. “My parents –,”

  “No.” He interrupted, earning a sharp look from the security agent. But Will didn’t notice. In that moment, every single bit of him was focused on this woman. “It’s more than that.”

  “Is it?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Then you’ll have to fill in the blanks.”

  The security agent moved closer to the table and reached down to clear the princess’s tea. As his fingers curled around the edges of the tray, Will was blasted back into the past by the sight of a tattoo he hadn’t seen in a very long time. Clearly printed on the guard’s wrists were the markings that instantly alerted him to danger:

  نحن متساوون

  Will felt a flush of adrenalin spike through him, but he didn’t visibly react. He lifted his eyes to Lilah, mentally calculating the closeness of the guard to the princess. He was only two feet from her. Will’s eyes dropped to the man’s waist. He wore a gun. He would probably have a knife somewhere too, and perhaps another concealed weapon.

  Will forced himself to lean back in his chair, affecting a pose of total relaxation.

  “Madam, you have the prime minister’s wife phoning in ten minutes.” The guard spoke in his own language. Will spoke it fluently.

  “Goodness, is that the time?” Lilah responded in kind, her own words soft and almost mythical seeming.

  Will’s smile was reassuring. “I won’t be much longer.” He held his body tight like a spring, ready to pounce.

  “It’s fine.” She lifted her eyes to the guard. “Thank you.” It was a dismissal and the guard took it as such. He left swiftly, clicking the door behind him.

  “Lilah –,”

  “You know,” she said with a curious smile, “Most people feel obliged to call me by my title unless they know me very well.”

  He was standing, his eyes not leaving her face. His whole body was as stiff as glass. “Where are your things?”

  “My … what things?” She was still smiling, his sudden change in demeanour almost a joke to the princess.

  “Where is your room?”

  “My room?” Now her smile fell. She stared at him with a frown of confusion. “What are you talking about?”

  “There’s no time to explain. You’re in danger. I need you to go –,”

  “Danger?” She stared at him as though he was deranged. “Me? In danger? Have you not observed for yourself my rather decadent fortress?”

  “You are only as safe as those protecting you want you to be,” he foreshadowed darkly. “Grab some clothes.”

  “No,” she shook her head, her eyes drawn together in confusion. It began to dawn on Jalilah that perhaps he wasn’t, in fact, joking.

  “Damn it, Lilah, if you want to survive you’ll do what I say and you’ll do it now.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  “It was the tattoo,” he spoke quietly, keeping his eyes pinned to Lilah through the doorway as she carefully folded a selection of entirely inappropriate clothing into whatever space she could find within his laptop bag.

  “It’s not possible.” Kiral sounded as though he’d been punched hard in the stomach.

  Will spoke with patience though his nerve
s were taut. “You told me some of the men had escaped, probably aided by government forces.”

  “Escaped, yes,” Kiral groaned. “But they were thought to be living deep underground. How the hell did one end up on my sister’s detail? Not only on her detail, but part of her intimate security circle? These men have been vetted extensively. It’s not … it should not be possible.”

  “That’s your mystery to solve,” Will surmised grimly. “Right now I’m here and I’m available to help.”

  “There are other men, Will. Her other guards.”

  “You’re not thinking clearly, Ki. You cannot be certain, not right this moment, anyway, that those men didn’t place the traitor with her. You don’t know who you can trust on her team.”

  “No,” Kiral nodded, thinking of the men who had served his sister for years. Had they turned against her? Against him? His stomach churned at the very idea that any harm might befall Lilah. “Will, you must care for her while I investigate this matter. I will send Alain to discover the details of this situation. But until then … Will … whatever is necessary. You must protect her.”

  “Fine.” Lilah’s eyes spun in his direction. She was pale beneath her tan, but to her credit she continued to pack. Will didn’t have the heart to tell her that she’d have no need for the couture dresses where they were going. He doubted she’d have anything more appropriate, in any event.

  “Where will you take her? What will you do?”

  “The less you know the better,” Will promised. “Right now you don’t know how far this thing goes. Lilah says you trust me.”

  “You know I do,” Ki agreed, confident the sentiment was not unfounded. “I am alive because of your actions.”

  Will heard footsteps in the hallway beyond the apartment. He brushed the compliment aside. “Good. I will contact you once more to let you know we’re out of the city, and then not again for a week. Do you think you can get to the bottom of this in that time?”

  “A week? Give me two hours in a room with the bastard …”

  Will understood the emotions behind the statement. He’d seen what these political terrorists were capable of and it had churned even his stomach. “I’ll let you know …”

  “Will? You must … Lilah is …”

  “She’ll be fine,” Will promised. “As long as she listens to me.”

  “Put her on the phone,” Ki urged.

  “Fine. But you’ll have to be quick.” Will handed the received over.

  Jalilah’s eyes were enormous in her face. “Ki? What’s going on?”

  Will zipped the bag up and hoisted it easily over his shoulder.

  “It’s not the time to explain.”

  “I beg your pardon, I have a strange American man telling me to pack a bag and you –.”

  “Will can tell you. But for now, Lilah, just don’t argue with him. I trust this man with my life, and I want you to do the same. Can you do that for me, labimn?” The pet name from their childhood made her heart swell.

  Pushing aside her doubts, she nodded. “Yes, Ki. For you, I will.” She handed the phone back to the journalist, her heart racing.

  “We don’t have much time,” he said, disconnecting the call and slipping it into his pocket. “Where is this phone conversation you’re expecting going to happen?”

  “There is an office through there,” she nodded.

  “How many doors are there into this suite?”

  “Only one,” she said, adrenalin flooding her system. “That’s something my security chief insists upon. What’s going on? Please tell me.”

  He ignored the question. “How do you go out?”

  “Through the door,” she supplied, exasperation nipping at her heels.

  There were several guards stationed directly outside her apartment. There was no way she’d ever get past them. Not if there was a widespread plot to harm her. And with the insurgent working amongst her guards, Will had no way of knowing for sure how many others were sympathetic to his cause.

  He shook his head and crossed to the edge of her bedroom. The windows were pure glass. There was a balcony off the lounge area though. That was promising. “How often are there security checks?”

  “Every hour.”

  He looked at his watch. “Lilah, your life’s in danger.”

  “Stop saying that,” she demanded, folding her arms across her chest.

  He stalked back into the lounge area and unlocked one of the sliding doors. “Leave this unlocked. I’m going to come up this way.”

  “What?” She blinked at him as though he were absolutely mad. “There’s no way …”

  “There’s a way,” he responded grimly. “Just leave it open. Once I’m back inside, I’ll give you further instructions.”

  Lilah shook her head. “What am I meant to do in the meantime?”

  “What you would normally do.”

  “Oh, sure, right,” she laughed sarcastically, but fear had formed beads of sweat on her brow. “What is it? Can you tell me?”

  “No. Just … trust me.”

  Lilah wanted to scream at him. She wanted to demand an explanation. But between Will’s exaltations that she trust him and Ki’s encouragement to do just that, she found herself acquiescing to the madness.

  The door to the apartment opened. Will was relieved to see a different guard moving towards Lilah. But was he under the same faction as the other man? A protective anger burst through him and he loathed leaving her in that moment. “Thanks for the interview, madam,” he said with an encouraging smile.

  A beat of silence passed. “You’re welcome.” She transferred her attention to the guard. “Yes?”

  “The prime minister’s wife.”

  “Of course.” She flicked her gaze to Will. “I look forward to our next meeting, sir.”

  He nodded, wishing he could say something more to comfort her. “As do I.”

  He collected his bag and flung it over his shoulder, then scooped up his recorder and notepad. With a growing sense of urgency he walked with the appearance of relaxed calm from the hotel suite.

  The rebel guard was stationed outside her room. Will walked past with a simple nod in his direction, though how he’d have liked to thump him across his face!

  Her penthouse was on the forty second floor. It took almost a minute to reach the lobby of the exclusive hotel, and then he had to suffer several long minutes of waiting behind a disorganized family arguing over their room configuration. He stared blankly ahead, mentally calculating what he had in his car.

  “Sir, may I help you?” A woman smiled at him from further down the lobby.

  He flashed a look of welcome at her and sauntered over. “Thanks. Just checking in. Room four one nine three.”

  “Of course, sir.” She tapped at her computer and predictably frowned when her screen disputed his information.

  “I’m sorry sir, I don’t have …”

  “It might be under The New York Times, rather than my name?”

  “The Times?” She shook her head. “I don’t see it.”

  “What?” He winced and then leaned a little closer, aware of the precise moment when she began to look at him with a sort of speculation. Will was not immune to the effect he had on women; he simply didn’t particularly care for it. “My secretary’s son has been sick lately. She’s been with me for years, so I try not to let her know when she stuffs up like this. Worry about her job is the last thing she needs at the moment.”

  “That’s so kind of you,” the women murmured approvingly, staring at his flop of dark blonde hair.

  “The thing is, I’m interviewing someone … I can’t say who. A celebrity. She’s very fussy about things and insisted on that particular room. I can’t imagine why. But if she cancels the interview, Jan’s going to be in huge trouble with my editor …”

  “It’s reserved in our system,” she said shaking her head, turning her gaze back to the screen. “But let me see what I can do.”

  Will fought the temptation to br
eathe a sigh of relief. “I’m grateful,” he read the woman’s name from her tag before adding silkily, “Belinda.”

  Her smile was radiant. “There you are. I’ve upgraded our other guests and switched you into that room. Is there anything else I can help you with?”

  “Not for the moment.” He took the keycard and moved quickly through the lobby. In less than ten minutes he was slipping into the door of the apartment just below Jalilah’s, though now he was armed with his fishing kit.

  He flicked on only a single lamp and then pushed the door open onto his balcony. The room was far smaller than hers, but the layout of the lounge and single bedroom were identical. He pressed his back against the railing, peering up towards the sky. There was no noise and no light coming from her apartment.

  He checked his watch impatiently. There was still a little time before the next security check was scheduled. Do whatever you need to. Keep her safe.

  He popped the top off his fishing box and reached inside, wrapping his fingers around a looped rope. It was strong. He’d used it for years. Running it through his hands he issued a silent prayer that it would continue to serve him and then threw it neatly over her balcony. He’d had experience with this type of maneuver, though it had been years since he’d had to rely on such skills.

  The rope latched over the balustrade once and the end dropped back to him. He formed it into a Honda knot then took one piercing look over the balcony. Falling was definitely not an option he wanted to contemplate.

  Kiral was counting on him, and so was Lilah.

  He worked quickly, forming more knots in the length of the rope, and then he began to pull himself upwards. Refusing to dwell on the distance to the ground, he edged upward and upward until finally his fingers curled around the bottom of the railing. With one pull he leveled his body weight to the structure and stepped his feet on to the relative safety of the floor.

  Was she okay? He peered through the door and heaved a grateful sigh of relief. There she was, sitting in the chair he had occupied half an hour earlier.

  Her eyes were fixed across the room. The door was shut.

  She was alone. He lifted over the railing and moved quickly towards the apartment’s interior. One tap brought her attention screeching towards him. She stood jerkily and walked across the room.