An Officer and a Princess (6 page)

He sat up, the sheet falling away from his naked chest. Isabel's heart raced a new kind of rhythm. How she wanted to lean forward and stroke her palm down his muscled chest, tangle her fingers in the patch of hair that was just the right amount in the center of his broad chest.

“My back couldn't handle another night on that chair,” he said.

In one smooth movement he got up and out of the bed. “You know what I'd really like to do?” he asked.

Isabel's mouth went utterly dry. She certainly knew what she'd like to do. She wanted to grab
hold of his hand and pull him back down to the bed with her.

She wanted him to kiss her until she lost her mind, touch her body until she was weeping with dizzying need, then take her and possess her completely.

“What?” she finally managed to ask.

“I want to get out of here.”

She stared at him in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, I need to breathe some air other than what's in this room and what's in this stinking tavern. Why don't we get dressed, get some breakfast, then take off for a ride some place in the country? Just for an hour or two. What do you say?”

Energy positively rolled from him, a coiled energy that filled the room with a dangerous tension.

“Okay,” she agreed.

A few moments later as she stood beneath the shower, she decided that a drive in the country sounded wonderful. Surely the time away from this room, away from the charade they were playing would make all the crazy thoughts she'd been having about Adam fly right out of her head.

They walked to their usual café for coffee and croissants, then left the café and walked to where Adam had parked his car on the first night he'd arrived at the King's Men Tavern.

Adam was quiet through breakfast and during
their drive. The June air drifted into the open car windows, banishing any lingering scent of the pub from Isabel's mind.

It was a gorgeous day and Isabel hadn't realized until this moment how tightly confined their lives had been for the past seven days. They had spent far too many hours cooped up in their tiny room, then enclosed in the smoky, noisy interior of the bar.

With each mile that passed, Adam seemed to relax. The tension she'd felt rolling from him since the moment he'd opened his eyes that morning disappeared and his fingers beat a faint rhythm on the steering wheel, as if music filled his head.

“Beautiful, isn't it?” He finally broke the silence and swept a hand out to encompass their surroundings.

Isabel gazed out the window at the lush, green fields. In the distance a bright blue lake sparkled in the sunshine. Her heart expanded with love, with the joy of her country. “As far as I'm concerned, there is no place prettier than Edenbourg. My father used to tell me it was the precious jewel of the North Sea.”

She sighed wistfully. “I'd give all the wealth in the Chamber of Riches to hear him say those words again.”

Adam shot her a curious glance. “I always
thought the Chamber of Riches was just a rumor, that it didn't really exist.”

“It exists,” Isabel replied. “Although I don't know its location.” The Chamber of Riches was a secret vault that contained the wealth amassed by the Stanbury monarchy over centuries. “Only the king knows how to get into the Chamber of Riches.”

They drove a little further, then to Isabel's surprise, Adam turned down a narrow lane that led to an attractive cottage.

“What's this?” she asked as he parked the car in front of the place.

A curtain at one of the front windows fluttered and a moment later the front door opened and Nicholas stood on the threshold.

“Nicholas!” Isabel flew from the car at the sight of her brother. She hadn't seen him since the insiders at the palace had orchestrated his “kidnapping” and circulated the rumor of his death.

“Nicholas, it's so good to see you,” she said as he embraced her. She was vaguely aware of Adam joining them at the door.

“And it's a shock to see you.” Nicholas hugged her, then held her by the shoulders and eyed her from head to toe. “What on earth have you done to yourself?”

“Why don't we talk about it inside?” Adam suggested.

“Of course,” Nicholas said and together the three of them entered the small house.

Inside, Nicholas's wife Rebecca and the baby LeAnn greeted them. Isabel hugged her sister-in-law tightly while LeAnn gurgled in her playpen with excitement.

Within minutes, the four of them were seated around a wooden table, drinking coffee and catching up on all the news.

LeAnn sat on her mother's lap, happily entertained with a ring of plastic keys.

“How long have you been here?” Isabel asked.

“Not long,” Nicholas replied. “We're moved on a regular basis.”

“The country is mourning your death.” Isabel studied her handsome brother with his dark hair and blue eyes. He wore the stress of the past few months. He appeared thinner and new lines creased his forehead.

“Obviously there are some people who are not mourning, but rather celebrating.” The lines in his forehead deepened.

Isabel reached for his hand across the table. “The majority of Edenbourg mourns. The people long to have father and you back in your rightful positions.” She released his hand as he nodded.

“So, what are you two up to? What's going on and why are you dressed like that?”

Quickly Isabel told Nicholas and Rebecca what
she and Adam were doing. “Unfortunately, we haven't gained much information so far,” she finished.

“Actually, I have a little more to add,” Adam said. Isabel listened in astonishment as Adam told them what had transpired the night before between him and Blake Hariman.

Hope soared inside her. Finally…finally they were making some headway. “Why didn't you tell me this earlier?” she asked when he'd finished.

“I'm telling you now.” His voice was even, but his eyes held an intensity she didn't quite understand. It was the same look he'd had when he'd told her he needed to get out of the room, get away from the tavern for a little while.

“What other news is there?” Nicholas asked, seemingly unaware of any tension.

“When I spoke to mother last night, she mentioned that Edward is ill and is thinking perhaps it best if he cede the crown.”

Nicholas frowned. “And that means unless we can untangle all this mess, Luke will take on the mantle of kingship.”

“And I'm not sure I trust him,” Isabel said.

Rebecca looked at her, her brown eyes widening in surprise. “Why? According to what I heard, he saved your life by shooting Shane Moore.”

“I know.” Isabel didn't know why she didn't particularly care for her cousin Luke. Luke was out
going and charming and obviously doted on his father. But, there had been occasions when Isabel thought she'd smelled alcohol on his breath at times of the day when drinking would have been inappropriate.

She sighed. “I just wish we could find Father and everything could go back to the way it was.”

“I just hope we find Father before it's too late,” Nicholas said softly. Rebecca reached out and took her husband's hand. Their love for one another was obvious and caused a wistful ache inside Isabel.

“It's already too late for things to go back to the way they were,” Rebecca said.

“What do you mean?” Isabel looked at her sister-in-law curiously.

Rebecca smiled sadly. “We've all changed with this experience. The whole country will have changed. One of the things that made me fall in love with Edenbourg was that it seemed to be a country with no fear, there was an innocence. We will have lost that.”

It wasn't until they were leaving the cottage that Isabel thought of Rebecca's words. It was true. This experience had changed them all already. And with a start, she realized she'd changed in the course of the past week.

She'd always believed her job in the Ministry of Defense was enough for her. She'd never particularly felt the need to marry or have children.

But, seeing the obvious depth of love between Nicholas and Rebecca, seeing LeAnn as the product of that love, had stirred a depth of yearning inside Isabel that she hadn't known existed.

She suddenly realized she wanted what Nicholas and Rebecca had…that sweeping passion, that committed, forever kind of love. She wanted to be a wife…and a mother. And she wanted it with Lieutenant Commander Adam Sinclair.

O
n the way back, they stopped at a small café for lunch.

“How did you know where Nicholas was?” Isabel asked as they waited for their orders.

“Ben told me,” Adam explained. “We figured Prince Nicholas would want to be kept apprised of what we were doing and might be hungry for news from the palace.”

“He looked tired.”

Adam nodded. “Yes, he did.” He paused to take a sip of his water. “This has got to be hard on him. From what I understand, he, Rebecca and LeAnn are being moved about every week or so to ensure their anonymity and safety.”

“At least they have each other to cling to,” Is
abel said, remembering the gentle touch of their hands, the look of intense love that had flowed from her brother to his wife. “That has to be an enormous comfort.”

She opened her napkin and placed it on her lap, her thoughts still filled with the couple they had just left. Once again a yearning filled her and she felt as if she had a hole in her soul.

“Nicholas looks at her as if his world begins and ends with her, and she looks at him the same way. Love can be so beautiful.”

One of Adam's dark eyebrows rose slightly. “I've never heard you express such sentimentality before.”

She felt a blush warm her face and at the same time his words somehow made her angry. It was as if he were negating a vital dimension of her heart, the very feminine part of her.

She leaned forward. “Just because I don't talk about it doesn't mean I don't feel things like that,” she exclaimed vehemently. “I don't think there is anything as beautiful in the world as the kind of love that lasts a lifetime.”

“Okay,” he said slowly, as if surprised by her outburst.

At that moment the waitress appeared with their orders. As she served them, Isabel gathered her thoughts, wanting Adam to understand the transformations she felt had occurred inside her.

“I think maybe you were right when you said I was somehow trying to prove something to my father,” she began when the waitress had once again departed from their table. “When we started this whole undercover business, I wanted to show him that I was smart enough, strong enough and good enough to save him. I wanted him to realize that he'd made a mistake when he forced me to give up my military career. Now none of that seems important anymore. I just want to find him because I love him, because Nicholas and Dominique love him and because my mother is absolutely heartbroken without him.”

“And because the country needs him,” Adam added.

For some reason, his words once again irritated her. “It isn't always about the country.” She sat back in her chair and eyed him intently, deciding now was the time to ask him what she'd wanted to know for some time. “Do you have a woman in your life, Adam? Is there somebody special?”

His eyes were dark opaque clouds, impossible to see behind. “No, there's nobody special. I'm not looking for anyone special.” He picked up his water glass and took a sip, then continued. “I guess I'm like my father in that respect. My career is my wife, my lover…my life.”

“Don't you ever get lonely? Don't you ever have moments when you wish there was somebody who
knew you so well, loved you so much they could guess your thoughts and share your most secret of dreams?”

He didn't answer for a moment and his gaze was transfixed on his plate. “Sure, I suppose there are times I get lonely, but the feeling passes quickly enough.”

He looked at her once again. “I was born to be a military man, not a husband or a father. Just like you were born a princess and will do what's best for Edenbourg. Eventually you will follow your father's wishes and marry Sebastian Lansbury.”

Shock riveted through Isabel. She had no idea he even knew who Sebastian Lansbury was. She certainly hadn't considered that he thought she was going to marry the fop. “I am not marrying that man,” she protested.

It was his turn to look at her in surprise. “But, I thought you were engaged to him.”

“I'm engaged to nobody,” she exclaimed vehemently. “And if I have my way, I'll never be engaged to that pompous Sebastian.”

“But, the newspapers…”

“…lie,” she interjected.

“I wondered how he was taking your disappearance, if he was upset since you've been in ‘seclusion.'”

“The only disappearance that would upset Sebastian is if he looked in the mirror and didn't see
the reflection of the person he loves more than anything in the world,” she said dryly.

Adam laughed. The sound was deep and attractive and Isabel realized she didn't think she'd ever heard him really laugh before. It sent a wave of wonderful warmth flooding through her.

They ate for a few minutes in silence. Isabel's mind refused to stop working, filtering thoughts and emotions that were new…alien to her.

Born a princess.
Adam's words whirled around and around in her head. She was a princess and Adam seemed confident she'd make her decisions based on what was best for the country…that she would follow her father's wishes without rebellion.

“Sometimes I wish I really was Bella Wilcox,” she said aloud.

Again one of Adam's eyebrows raised. “Why on earth would you wish that?”

Isabel frowned and set down her fork. “A woman like Bella can follow her heart no matter where it leads her. She doesn't have to worry about the duty or the responsibility of a title. She doesn't have to please a country, she only has to please herself.”

Adam gazed at her for a long moment, then looked down at his plate. “We'd better finish eating and get back to the tavern,” he finally said.

It wasn't the response she wanted from him, but she wasn't sure what she wanted from him. Some
how, what had begun as a simple covert plan to find her father had gotten far more complicated.

They finished eating, returned to the tavern and resumed their role-playing. As they sat at a table, visiting with the people they had come to know, Isabel's mind continued to race, this time with the information of Adam's meeting with Blake Hariman.

Every time the door opened, she prayed it would be Blake or one of his cohorts coming to talk to Adam. She hoped that the “friends” Blake had talked about were the Patriots and that those people were the ones responsible for her father's kidnapping.

She was aware of time ticking by, aware that the longer it took, the lower were the odds that her father would be alive and well. He'd already had one stroke without medical attention. What if he had another? Her heart beat a dull thud. What if it was already too late?

She mentally shook the thought out of her head. She couldn't believe that. Surely if her father had suffered a massive stroke and had died, somebody would be talking, the news would be out somehow.

“I'm going to run up to the room and get a couple of aspirins,” Adam said. “I'll be right back.”

She nodded her assent. It was just after 8:00 p.m., and she knew his headache was probably due to the incessant noise and smoke.

He'd just disappeared up the staircase when somebody tapped on Isabel's shoulder. She turned, a wave of shock suffusing her as she saw Pam Sommersby.

“Take a walk with me.” The blonde's brown eyes held the skittish fear of a wild animal, but implored Isabel to do as she bid.

Without hesitation, Isabel slid off her chair and followed just behind the tall, buxom woman. It was only when they reached the door of the tavern that she thought of Adam, wanted to wait for him to join them.

Pam seemed to know her thoughts. “Just the two of us. Nobody else,” she said, then disappeared out the door.

Isabel hurried after her. She wasn't about to let this opportunity slip away just because Adam had a headache. She had no other choice but to follow.

Although she was eager, she wasn't stupid. She knew she could be walking into a trap of some sort and was mentally on guard.

When she stepped outside the tavern, nobody appeared to be hiding in the shadows except Pam, who motioned for her to walk with her.

They walked a block without speaking. Isabel wanted to ask a million questions, but held her tongue, afraid of scaring Pam off.

And she looked as if she could be scared off quite easily. Her gaze darted from one point to an
other with frantic speed and she appeared ready to bolt at any minute.

They walked for another block before they came to a bench at a bus stop. Pam sat and motioned Isabel next to her. “I know who you are,” Pam said, her voice low and slightly unsteady.

“Bella, I'm Bella Wilcox,” Isabel said. “Shane was my cousin on my mother's side.”

Pam shook her head, her gaze intent on Isabel. “No. I know for a fact that Shane didn't have any cousins. I know you're Princess Isabel. Despite your hair and makeup and clothing, I recognize you.”

Isabel opened her mouth to protest, to bluff her way through, then changed her mind. “Yes, I am.”

Tears filled Pam's eyes and she wrung the strap of the straw purse she carried. “I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.” The tears tumbled from her eyes and spilled down her cheeks. “I didn't know…I truly didn't know everything that Shane was involved with. I swear I didn't know that people would get kidnapped or hurt.”

Isabel believed her. It was impossible to look into those tearful brown eyes and not see the heart inside the woman. “Why did you run from us on the day of the funeral?” she asked.

Pam pulled a crumpled tissue from her purse and swiped at her tears. “I was so upset, and I was frightened. Everything went so crazy. Shane was
dead, and I'd heard that your brother was also dead.” Tears once again poured from her eyes. “I loved Shane, but I had no idea what he'd done…what he was responsible for.”

Isabel wanted to hate her. She wanted to hate the woman who had loved the man who had kidnapped her father, but try as she might, she could find no hate in her heart.

“Why did you come to speak to me now?” Isabel asked.

Again Pam dabbed at her eyes, then drew in a deep shuddering breath. “Because too many people have died already. Because this has gotten out of control and has to end before more people die.”

Isabel took one of Pam's hands in hers. “We have to find my father. We've received word that he's had a stroke…is ill. Can you tell me where he's being held?”

“I'm sorry. I can't. I don't know.” The words escaped her as mournful as a moan. “I think only a couple of people know exactly where he's being held. Shane was the one in charge of that and now he's dead.”

“Was Shane the mastermind behind all of this?”

Pam shook her head, her long blond hair swaying around her face. “No. Somebody else was helping Shane. Somebody in the palace.”

Isabel released Pam's hand and leaned back against the bench, frustration tearing at her insides.
They had suspected there was a traitor in the palace, but who? Who had something to gain by kidnapping the king?

“Somewhere, somebody has to know where my father is,” she finally said.

Pam was silent for a long moment and again her fingers twisted the strap of her purse. “Somebody in the group would know.”

“The group? You mean the Patriots?”

“No. Shane had nothing but scorn for the Patriots. He said they were nothing but a bunch of whiners with no backbone.”

“Then what group?” Isabel asked.

Pam said. “The Frees.”

“Do you know who they are? How we can get to them?”

Pam hesitated, then nodded. She looked at Isabel, her eyes holding a touch of fear. “They are dangerous people, Your Highness.”

Isabel held her gaze intently. “They have my father. Pam, whatever political beliefs you might hold, whatever agenda you might have…you have to help me. I beg you…my father's very life might depend on it.”

Again Pam was silent for a long moment. She tilted her head back and looked up, as if she might find answers in the starry sky overhead. Isabel held her breath, wanting to shake her, to slap her, somehow force her to do something…anything to help.

“Okay,” she finally said. “I'll do what I can. I know when they meet and where. They trust me. I could bring you and the man who is pretending to be your husband to one of their meetings.”

Tears burned at Isabel's eyes, tears of gratitude. Closer…surely they were getting closer to success. “Thank you,” she said.

Pam nodded and stood, as if suddenly eager to be away. “Tuesday night, meet me here. I'll take you where you want to go.” She started to walk away.

“Pam?” Isabel called softly.

The tall blonde turned back to her. “How did you know it was me?”

For the first time a smile curved Pam's lips, the gesture making her quite pretty. “I was six years old when you were born. It probably sounds silly to you, but I pretended that you were my baby sister. I've followed your life, read every news article and seen most every picture ever taken of you.” Pam's smile fell away. “Anyway, I recognized you the moment I saw you.”

“Should I be concerned about others being able to recognize me?” Isabel asked.

“No, I think you're safe. You sure don't look like yourself in that getup.” She drew a deep breath. “I'll see you here Tuesday night, at 10:00 p.m.” With these words she hurried off, quickly swallowed up by the night.

Tuesday night. Only two more days, Isabel thought. She looked up at the night sky and sent a prayer heavenward, then turned and began to walk briskly back to the tavern.

Two more days and Pam could help her and Adam infiltrate the group responsible for her father's kidnapping.

She only hoped her father could last another two days. She prayed it wasn't already too late to save him.

 

Adam was beyond frantic.

He'd come downstairs from their room to find Isabel nowhere in sight. At first he hadn't been concerned. He'd assumed she was probably in the ladies' room.