Royal Wedding Threat (5 page)

To her relief, the captain ignored her as he got the boat started and pointed them out to sea. Ava watched carefully,
still not completely trusting him to take her to the forbidden island of Dorsi.

The Lydian capital city of Sardis sat on the Mediterranean coast, on the tip of the tiny kingdom nestled between Greece and Albania. The island of Dorsi was the most remote of the dozens of islands that formed an archipelago extending out from the mainland. Once a peninsula connected by land to Sardis, the islands
had been washed free by centuries of storms.

Dorsi had once been known as Castlehead, but after hurricanes and crumbling shorelines had rendered the former Lydian palace uninhabitable, the royal family had relocated to the palace in Sardis. Because of the island’s history and Princess Stasi’s own adventures there with her fiancé, Kirk Covington, the affianced pair wanted to be married in
the ruins of the palace cathedral.

In Ava’s mind, the island was the perfect spot for a private wedding, which was what the youngest princess wanted. And Ava always gave her brides what they wanted—that promise, and her ability to fulfill it, made her one of the top wedding planners in Seattle, before she’d left everything to come to Lydia.

Kirk Covington had warned her of the supposed
dangers of the island. Dorsi was said to have been contaminated by land mines during the World Wars, though Ava had never heard explained what enemy had placed them, since Lydia had remained neutral throughout those conflicts. Besides that, the massive blocks of limestone that teetered in ruinous towers were rumored to fall at the slightest provocation, especially when disturbed by those who didn’t
belong there.

The island itself was such a formidable rock that there didn’t seem to be any decent spot to anchor, and if that weren’t deterrent enough, the periphery of the island was dotted every twenty feet or so with fearsome signs, warning potential visitors of certain death should they venture there.

But no rocks had fallen when she’d visited the island with Kirk and Stasi. Indeed,
the peaceful Mediterranean shores had looked to her like the perfect location for a private wedding, just foreboding enough to keep the paparazzi at a distance. She only had to convince Jason Selini to agree with her. Perhaps if she cooperated with his investigation questions, he’d be more willing to see things her way.

FIVE

J
ason wove the boat between islands, choosing an indirect route to Dorsi for a number of reasons. He wanted more time to talk to Ava, not because he cared to be with her a moment longer than necessary, but because he needed answers, and she adeptly avoided providing them.

In addition to that, he felt sobered by the back-to-back attempts on her life. Whoever had tried
to kill her that morning clearly wanted the job done quickly. There was every likelihood he’d been watching the palace and even a slim chance the would-be killer might try to follow them out to sea.

By weaving through the islands, Jason would increase his chances of identifying any watercraft that might be following them, or lose such a tail in the process. But every time he glanced behind
them, Jason saw only innocent-looking sailboats, speedboats and Jet Skis manned by vacationers and retirees bent only on enjoying the glorious Lydian seashore on the lovely early-summer day.

If anyone was trying to follow them, he was as good at evasive maneuvers as Ava, who kept his every question focused solely on her work contacts, never anything that touched her personal life. Besides
making him frustrated, her intentional avoidance raised his curiosity. What was Ava trying to hide, and why was she so determined to hide it?

His suspicions raised, Jason took the long way around a distant island and glared at Ava, meeting her eyes when she tried to look away. “I want to know about you,” he told her bluntly, after she’d headed off his less-pointed questions. “Where do you
come from? Who do you care about?”

Ava pressed her back against the passenger’s chair and glared at him. “I’m from Seattle. I don’t care about anyone.”

“You don’t care about anyone?” He tested her. Cold though the woman might be, he doubted her words could be true. Even the spiky-haired wedding planner had to care for someone, didn’t she? “What about friends, family?”

“I don’t have
any siblings. My mother died last year, and my father and I—we haven’t been on speaking terms since.”

“So nobody likes you. You’ve made it a point to keep it that way. Why?”

The wedding planner turned away from him and looked out to sea, blinking rapidly. Perhaps the wind bothered her eyes. It had stirred loose her hair from its frozen dome, causing it to flutter in the misty sea breeze
like real hair instead of spiked armor.

Or perhaps she was blinking away tears. Had he hit on something, a tender spot with real feelings underneath? He sensed he’d struck a nerve. Would probing deeper reveal the identity of the murderer who was after her? It was worth a try to find out.

“Why don’t you talk to your father anymore?”

“We don’t see eye to eye. He’s stubborn and demanding.”

“Is that where you got it from?” Jason gave her a quick glance before returning his attention to the sea. He knew the islands well from growing up in Sardis and boating along the archipelago often, but this far from the city, the open currents of the sea could shift underwater rock formations overnight. Not only did he have to watch the water, but he also looked behind them to be certain they
were alone.

Empty blue water trailed out behind them, his view cut off by the island they’d just rounded. If someone was trying to follow them, he was staying plenty far behind.

“What does my father have to do with the murderer who’s after me?” Ava’s voice sounded slightly unsteady.

Jason couldn’t let her emotional state distract him from pursuing a possible lead. Her life was at
stake. “Somebody is trying to kill you,” he reminded her bluntly. “Murder isn’t the usual response to a professional slight. Whoever wants you dead has to have a good reason—something bigger than having their table toppers rejected.”

“Wedding planning is a cutthroat business,” Ava told him, though her voice lacked its usual sharp edge. “It’s not all flowers and cake.”

“I want to know
why nobody likes you. Didn’t you ever have any friends?”

“No!” Ava snapped back too abruptly, even for her. “No, I never did.”

“But your clients all seem to love you. They recommend you to their friends. The royal family adores you.” Jason couldn’t deny that truth, though he’d never figured out the discrepancy between her prickliness toward him and her devotion to her brides.

“They
adore my
work,
” Ava corrected him. “They love
the wedding planner.
They don’t even know
me.
”

Jason glanced around the boat again, but the route to Dorsi sent him swinging west. He was onto something. Ava had issues, that much was certain. He believed her earlier claim that she didn’t smile anymore. She’d said it was a deliberate choice and the reason was a long story. What was the story?
Would it explain her issues with people and her refusal to smile? Would it provide the clues he needed to understand why someone wanted to kill her?

He had to find out. “How did you come to be a wedding planner?”

Ava let out a long breath. “I don’t see what this has to do—”

“You promised you’d answer my questions,” Jason reminded her.

“Fine. All right.” She drummed her enameled-red
fingernails on the side rail as though the discussion made her nervous. “My father is a minister at a very large church in Seattle. There are several ministers at the church, but he’s always been the one to do most of the weddings. He’d have one nearly every week, sometimes more than one each week. When I was young I loved going to rehearsals and even the weddings with him. I loved the music
and the dresses, the flowers, pageantry, the promise of happiness and—” She stopped short.

Jason suspected she’d been going to say
love.
Before he could wonder at her deliberate omission, she continued.

“Before long, I knew everything there was to know about weddings. I’d tasted all the cakes, heard all the soloists and string quartets. I knew where the spare microphones were and who
to call if someone fell sick at the last moment or got stuck on the East Coast in a blizzard. I could talk a nervous bride out of vomiting—that’s harder than it sounds. Once they start to hyperventilate, they’re almost certain to lose it. You have to watch their eyes. If they roll back, grab a bucket and try to spare the gown.”

Jason couldn’t help grinning at the image of the strictly business
wedding planner swooping in to rescue a bride from her own nerves, especially given the animated way Ava spoke, the way her eyes lit up as she talked about the job she loved. So Ava Wright wasn’t entirely heartless. She cared about brides and loved weddings. According to the brochures in her duffel bag, her wedding-planning business in the U.S. had been called Happily Ever After. Yet Ava herself
made it a point never to smile, let alone feel happy. Why not?

“So how did you and your father end up not speaking to each other? It sounds to me as though you worked together.”

“We worked together just fine for years, though as my business branched out I worked with other churches.” Ava nibbled her lower lip before speaking, her voice softer now, so that Jason had to strain to hear
over the sound of the boat and the sea. “Last fall my mother was hit by a car while crossing the street in front of our family home. The doctors put her on life support. My father insisted on pulling the plug. I begged him not to. I told him he was killing her, but he did it anyway.”

Jason felt a knot form in his throat. So Ava had a heart after all. And it had been hurt. Badly. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s all in the past. I got a call from Queen Monica the week after my mother’s funeral, wanting to know if I could plan the vow-renewal ceremony for her and King Thaddeus. Monica and her sister Julia had been bridesmaids in weddings I’d done in Seattle—they grew up there, you know. She knew me and trusted me. I came to Lydia. They asked me to stay on for the rest of the royal weddings. I
returned to Seattle just long enough to pack my essential things and dispose of the rest.”

Ava turned to him from looking out to sea. “So you see, I left everyone in Seattle behind months and months ago. No one there has any reason to think about me, much less want to murder me. The threat must be coming from Lydia. Perhaps someone doesn’t want Prince Alexander’s wedding to go off well. Have
you thought of that? Kill the wedding planner, ruin the wedding.”

“I thought you said Prince Alexander’s wedding was ready to go, save for the final rehearsal.”

“Yes, but I do have a number of final meetings next week. And anyway, a murderer wouldn’t necessarily know that I’ve got all the plans made already.” Ava blew out an impatient huff. “The threat has to be coming from Lydia. That’s
all there is to it.”

But Jason wasn’t ready to accept that fact, not when the survey of Ava’s past had revealed so much. Bracing himself for what might be an angry response, he asked a hard question. “Who was driving the car that hit your mother?”

Instead of anger, Ava winced as though she’d been struck, and appeared to blink back tears. “I don’t know. The car drove away. There weren’t
any witnesses. The only person who could have answered that question was my mother.”

* * *

To Ava’s relief, she spotted the distinct castle ruins that marked the island of Dorsi just ahead of them in the open sea. Good. She couldn’t talk about her past much longer, not without crying. And Jason Selini had already seen her unsteady and embarrassed. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction
of watching her cry.

Though that seemed to be the captain’s intent, with all the probing, painful questions he’d asked. What could her mother’s death possibly have to do with anything? It had been months and months ago, halfway around the world. And the police had ruled it an accident.

The motor grew silent as Captain Selini slowed the boat, steering it nimbly toward the opening to a
narrow inlet, past rocky cliffs that protected the secret cove. As the boat traveled around a bend to where a soft sand beach stretched out behind the rocky promontory, beyond the sight of anyone traveling past the island, the captain scowled, his eyes trained behind her.

“What?” She looked back to see what caused him to stare, but saw only the beautiful blue waves.

“I’d feel more comfortable
if I knew we weren’t being followed.” He shook his head. The boat had already slipped past the cliffs, blocking it from the sight of anyone who might pass by the island, but also blocking their view of the sea.

“Do you really think someone could find this spot? None of those boats were close enough to see where we came in.”

“They could if they were watching us with binoculars.” The captain
leaped onto the beach, towing a rope behind him, which he used to secure the boat to the jutting branch of a fallen tree. Then he held out his hands toward her.

Ava hesitated. She hadn’t taken his hand getting into the boat, but should have. And jumping down past the lapping water onto the soft sand was vastly more difficult than stepping off a pier built for the purpose of making it easy
to get on and off boats.

Reluctantly she reached for his hand. Leaning forward, she pushed off with her feet as her fingers brushed his.

“Oof!” To her dismay, in her effort to avoid hitting him, she landed with one knee in the soft sand.

“Are you okay?”

“Fine.” Ava stood, brushing the sand from her knee. Realizing she wasn’t hurt, she straightened and led him toward the path
to the Queen’s Tower. “It’s this way.” She hurried up the trail, the soles of her black leather walking shoes sinking deep into the sand.

The sandy trail turned to rocks as the path grew steeper, narrowing between the sheer wall of an ascending cliff on one side and the steep drop of the descending cliff on the other. Ava trusted the captain to follow her—he could surely see her footprints
clearly, and once he was on the path, there wasn’t anywhere else he could go. She was glad for that. Having only visited the island once, she might otherwise have had trouble finding what she sought.

A moment later the limestone tower loomed above her, and she ducked through the arched doorway into a wide stone room. The forsaken place felt cold, with sunlight penetrating only through the
doorway and a couple of windows framed by thick stones. She shivered and looked back.

Jason smiled at her as he approached. Ava felt her heart lurch—with relief, of course, just relief—at seeing him still behind her. It wasn’t as though her heart had any reason to be doing flip-flops at the sight of his smile. She just didn’t want to be alone on the island. And Jason had saved her life. Surely
whatever happiness she felt at the sight of him was due to the knowledge that he would protect her now, just as he had done earlier.

“There are stairs up to the top of the tower—it’s got a glorious view of the entire island. From there we can see—”

But Jason extended his hand and cut her off. “Shh—listen.”

Ava clamped her mouth closed and tried to make out any sound besides the
cool wind and the hammering of her heart after the brisk climb. Wondering if perhaps the stone walls blocked outside sounds, she tiptoed toward the captain, still straining to hear. As she neared him, she detected his scent, faint but manly, reminding her of being in his arms. She shook off the memory. The man had a fine set of shoulders, she’d grant him that, but she wasn’t about to waste any time
wishing she was close to him. She knew better. And the man very nearly hated her.

Finally, hearing nothing, she asked, “What?”

“I thought I heard a boat motor.” He shook his head. “They may have stilled the engine as they approached the island.”

“No one is supposed to approach the island.” Ava met his eyes and saw concern and perhaps a glimmer of fear. The captain didn’t show fear
often, of that she felt certain. Today had been an exception, and for good reason. “Do you think we were followed?”

“Quick.” He took her hand and led her toward the arched opening to the stone stairs that led to the top of the tower. “Let’s get to where we can see. If anyone’s followed us, I can use my cell phone to call the guards to bring a helicopter.”

Ava followed him up the stairs
quickly. Hip-high parapets encircled the flat landing that towered at least twenty feet above the rest of the island. “Careful of the wall.” She repeated the warning Kirk had given her on their previous visit. “Some of the old stones are loose. If you lean on them, they could fall.”