Royal Wedding Threat (6 page)

In spite of her words, Jason walked close to the edge, placed one hand on the upward jut of parapet and looked
back down the trail, over the treetops, toward the cove where they’d left the boat.

She marched over to stand beside him, fully intending to chide him for ignoring her warning, when she glanced in the direction where he looked, and gasped.

“A boat?” she whispered, watching through the gaps in the leafy treetops as a lone figure jumped from a second vessel. For an instant, she dared to
hope the man, whose face was hidden in the shadows of a dark baseball cap, might have watched them enter the forbidden island and come to warn them the island was unsafe.

But then the man finished tying his boat next to theirs and pulled an object from his waistband. She saw it clearly through a break in the trees, just before the man bounded toward the trail they’d taken to the tower.

Ava sucked in a breath and looked up at Jason.

He’d clearly seen what the man held, too.

A gun.

SIX

J
ason pulled out his phone and glanced back toward the stairs, then to the trail, thinking quickly. The gunman had no doubt seen their footprints in the sand and would have no trouble following them to the tower. The man would reach the top of the tower in two minutes or less.

Grimacing, Jason shoved his phone back into its holster. His reception was extremely low. Even
if he could get a call or text to go through, there was no way the royal-guard helicopter would make it there in time. If Jason called or texted them, he’d waste valuable time.

He had to get Ava to safety.

But how would they escape the approaching gunman?

“Is there another way down from the tower?” he asked Ava in a whisper.

“Not that I know of,” she admitted with a shaking
voice, her words so faint he had to stand close to hear. “The only way down from the tower is the trail.”

Jason cringed. He should have known better than to agree to come to the dangerous island with Ava. The last time he’d visited the place, he’d witnessed firsthand what a fall from that very tower could do to a man. Viktor Bosch, the previous head of the royal guard, had fallen to his death
from the Queen’s Tower. In fact, the Kevlar ropes from that very incident were still entwined around the parapets, extending down the back side of the tower past the treetops.

Crossing back to the other side of the tower, Jason scanned the trail. The gunman was already past the sand to the path that led past the cliffs. He’d reach the tower the very next minute. Jason grabbed Ava’s hand,
pulling her toward the back wall of the tower and taking hold of a rope with his other hand. It held securely, providing a possible means of escape. And given the circumstances, Jason was certain escape was far preferable to confrontation.

“Grab hold of this,” he whispered close to her ear. “I’ll help you over the edge.”

“What?” Ava yelped a little too loudly. If the gunman knew for
certain where they were, he’d reach them that much more quickly.

“We’re going to have to rappel down the back side of the tower. There’s no other way to escape.”

“Can’t you fight him off?”

“He’s got a gun. Either or both of us could be shot.”

“So we’ll fall to our deaths—is that better?”

Jason hardly listened to her protests. He could hear footsteps echoing up the stone
stairs from the room directly below them. In a moment the gunman would spot the steps, realize where they’d surely gone and find them. There wasn’t time for Jason to send Ava over the wall and still follow her, even if she was willing to go.

“Shh,” he whispered as he looped one arm securely around her slender waist. “Hold on to me.”

With his other hand still tightly gripping the military-grade
rope, Jason swung one leg over the wall and pulled Ava down after him.

Her whole body shuddered with a suppressed whimpering scream as she held tight to him. He could feel her heartbeat racing and didn’t doubt she was terrified. He didn’t feel particularly confident, either, not given the way she wriggled with fear or the fact that the gunman would surely spot them the moment he looked over
the wall.

And he’d no doubt look over the wall.

“I need both hands to climb down.” Jason found Ava’s ear and pressed his mouth close, whispering as quietly as he dared and hoping the wind from the open sea would bury his words instead of carrying them to the gunman. “Hold on tight to me. I can’t hold on to you.”

To his relief, Ava didn’t fight him, but tightened her hold around
him—one arm looped over his shoulder, next to his neck, the other curled under his opposite arm, so that she clung securely without choking him. Aware the gunman could spot them at any moment, Jason began the descent hand over hand, moving as quickly as he dared. To his relief, the top of the tower was encircled by jutting corbels, so that the crown projected outward several feet beyond the stem.
Once Jason had descended far enough that they hung below the cover of the treetops and the base of the corbels, he paused to catch his breath.

Ava, too, readjusted her grip.

“Are you okay?” he dared to whisper in a voice no louder than a breath.

Her head bobbed silently just below his chin. She was nodding. A good sign.

The rope shuddered in his hands.

Ava froze.

It took Jason a moment to realize what must be happening, as the rope continued to vibrate oddly, shivering between his fingers until they swayed slightly as they dangled from the tower.

The gunman above must have realized where they’d gone—could probably even catch a glimpse of them if he leaned over the side of the tower far enough. He couldn’t shoot them because the thick stone corbels
shielded them, and anyway, he didn’t have to shoot. It was just as expedient to cut through the rope and let them fall to their deaths.

Jason prayed the rope would hold as he began to climb down again, the rope burning in his hands as he let them drop long stretches in a sort of controlled fall that ended up not being quite as controlled as he’d hoped. They were still ten or more feet above
the uneven ground when the rope went to tatters beneath his fingers, and they half slipped, half fell to the ground.

The base of the tower was a steep slope. With Ava still clinging tightly to him, Jason caught the earth with the soles of his boots and slammed backward, sliding on his rear end down the loose gravel until he was able to dig in his heels enough to skid to a stop.

“Are
you okay?” he whispered as dislodged rocks rattled down all around them.

“Fine.” Ava jumped up before they’d completely stopped. She grabbed his hand and tugged him toward some trees. “This way. I know a place to hide.”

* * *

Ava led the captain through the overgrown foliage toward the ruins of the cathedral. She’d looked down from the tower long enough to get her bearings. The
ancient chapel was off to their right. Its roof was many centuries gone, its ceiling the open sky, but at the rear of the transept, a small door led to a back room from which the deacons of old would have entered, which Kirk had pointed out as the way he intended to enter for the wedding.

The old wooden door had long since rotted away, but thick vines curled all around that end of the building,
completely covering the doorway. And the room itself had a back door that led around the apse on the east end. They could hide in the room or escape out the back.

Assuming they reached the spot before the gunman saw them.

Jason pulled her back as they cleared the edge of the trees and entered the cathedral. “Where are you going?”

“There’s a room behind those vines. We can hide there.”

“Not if he sees us.” The captain looked behind them, peering up past the trees toward the tower.

Ava looked back, too. She could see the jutting parapets, now void of rope, but there was no sign of the gunman. “He must be on the stairs. Quick—now’s our chance.” She hoped to reach the hiding place before the gunman left the tower. If he’d spotted their flight through the trees, or even
if he assumed they’d fallen to their deaths and went around to check, he’d be headed their way as soon as he reached the end of the trail.

Loosening his hold on her arm, Jason swept his hand down to hers and gripped her palm with a nod. “Lead the way.”

Ava sprinted to the spot, fearful the gunman might try to take a shot at them as they ran through the open nave. But no gunfire sounded.
She found the edge of the vines where they curled around toward the altar. The heavy mass peeled back like a curtain, and Ava pulled Jason after her as she slipped behind, pressing her hand along the cold stone wall until she found the opening to the room and ducked inside.

Sunlight filtered in dimly from a missing bit of roof far above them, but mostly the room was all thick stones and heavy
vines. Ava panted, breathing freely for the first time since she’d spotted the gunman leaping off his boat.

The captain still had tight hold of her hand, and she leaned against him, her heart screaming with pent-up terror and amazement that they’d survived their fall from the tower and their flight through the trees.

It took her a few moments to begin to catch her breath as she processed
all that had happened and tried to decide what they should do next. Slowly, she became aware that she’d pressed her cheek to the captain’s shoulder—again. But rather than step away and draw attention to what she’d done, she pinched her eyes shut, listening for any sound of the gunman as she debated what to do next.

She didn’t feel she ought to lean on Jason, but then again, the room was quite
tiny and it wasn’t as though she’d be able to put much space between them. Given the terror that surged through her, she felt grateful for the sense of security he provided. Quite simply, she didn’t want to let go of him. Besides, she had far more important things to worry about than her proximity to the captain.

How were they going to get back to their boat without crossing paths with the
gunman? Granted, the island was overgrown with trees and vines, and there were plenty of ruins to hide among, but still, the gunman had to guess they’d need to reach their boat to escape. All the man had to do was lie in wait on the trail and jump them when they tried to slip past.

Jason scowled at his phone, then whispered, “If I could get a call or text to go through, I’d use my phone to
call royal-guard headquarters and have them dispatch a helicopter to the island. I’m afraid we need to get to higher ground.”

“That’s an excellent idea.” Ava focused on the hope he offered her, refusing to be discouraged by their current lack of a phone signal. If a helicopter arrived in time, Jason’s guards could apprehend the gunman, and she wouldn’t have to fear for her life anymore. “I’ll
try to peek out and see if the way is clear.” She reached toward the vines that shielded them from sight.

“Be careful.” Jason’s hand brushed her fingers, reminding her once again of how very close they were to each other in the tiny room and how very close they’d been. In case Ava hadn’t already been convinced of the captain’s strength, his climb down the rope with her clinging to him had
demonstrated his capabilities quite persuasively.

She pushed those thoughts from her mind and focused on peeling back the leaves without rustling anything. For all they knew, the gunman could be just on the other side. She half expected to see the barrel of his gun pointing through the vines toward them, but as a glimmer of light filtered in through the thick foliage, she saw only the yellow
limestone walls of the chapel.

Pinching one eye shut, she peered through the peephole she’d made.

“Is it clear?” Jason asked softly.

Ava startled when she spotted the gunman. She grabbed Jason’s arm as he spoke, wishing he’d fall silent but not daring to make a sound to shush him.
He’s there,
she mouthed, glancing at Jason for only a second before returning her attention to the
gunman who’d entered the far end of the chapel.

“Try to get a good look at him,” Jason told her in a faint whisper, his lips brushing her ear. “See if you recognize him.”

Ava tried to ignore the shiver that ran through her at the captain’s accidental contact. She did her best to get a good look, but the leaves obscured so much of her view the man was little more than a moving shadow
across the grassy floor of the cathedral ruins. She tried to guess what she could of his build, but other than her assumption he was of fairly average height and weight, there was little she could discern, certainly no distinct, identifying features.

As she watched, the man did a quick sweep of the cathedral, checking behind each ancient pillar before darting back out the way he’d come. She
saw the design on his ball cap and felt her blood turn cold.

The man wore a Seattle Mariners baseball cap. She’d seen a million of the caps back home, but none since she’d been in Lydia.

The man turned away, headed in the other direction, and Ava focused on the most urgent issue.

“He’s leaving,” she whispered excitedly.

But Jason didn’t look quite so pleased. “Is there any
other way he can reach this room?”

Ava’s hope fell. “If he comes around the back way.” Considering what she knew of the path from the tower to the cathedral, the gunman had surely scoped out the other side of the cathedral and would loop around the back side. From there, he could go any number of directions, including through the back entrance to their tiny room.

“Show me.” Jason squeezed
her hand. “Is it safe?”

“We’ll have to stay back. The vines aren’t nearly so thick on that side.” Ava led him down the narrow hallway, slowing her steps and listening as they neared the doorway on the other end. She leaned forward to look past the vines.

“Let me.” Jason placed one hand on her shoulder, stopping her, as he stepped past her and leaned forward to peer through the leaves.
He blinked twice before glancing back her way, holding one finger to his lips in a gesture of silence and looking back again. She studied him as he stood there, his attention on the gunman. There was no denying the captain was handsome. Surely the odd shivers of attraction she felt toward him were superficial, nothing real or deep or lasting. She and the captain fought far too much for there to
be any sort of affection between them. And she wasn’t nearly ready for any more heartache in her life, not now or anytime soon.

Finally, after what felt like a much longer time than it probably was, the captain stepped back toward her.

“He’s gone down the path that leads to the automated lighthouse on the north end of the island. This may be our best opportunity to make a break for it.
Let’s go—but be quiet. We don’t know if he came to the island alone.”

Ava held tight to Jason’s hand as she ran after him back through the chapel and up the trail toward the royal-guard speedboat they’d left tied in the cove. Given Jason’s warning about other possible gunmen loose among them, she wasn’t surprised that he didn’t attempt to use his phone until they reached the foot of the trail
from the tower, where the trees gave way to open grass and the rocky trail turned to sand.