A Royal Mission

Straightening a little to maintain her balance, she glimpsed his gun and a chill of fear curled through her. Don’t be too quick to trust him, her inner voice cautioned. He could simply be under orders to see that you’re not injured for the time being.

“You said something about mice and snakes? Did you see any?”

Realizing he was worried that she was hallucinating, Victoria smiled dryly. “No. My parents never allowed my sister and I to use profanity, so when we would feel the need to curse we would name things we found disgusting.”

They had reached the bathroom, and Victoria released her hold on him and took hold of the door-jamb. “I can take care of myself from here.”

He regarded her doubtfully.

She glared up at him. “I insist.”

Carefully, he freed her.

Using the wall for balance, Victoria entered the bathroom and closed the door, but instead of reveling in her privacy, she found herself missing her host’s support. With her forehead pressed against the wall for stability, she unfastened her pants, pushed them and her panties down, then sat. The drugs were definitely wearing off. Her movements, although still sluggish, were more coordinated.

With her elbows on her knees, she rested her head in her hands. Memories of her incarceration in the cabin flooded over her. Being escorted by her current host had been a great deal different than being escorted by The Whisperer. The Whisperer’s touch had left her feeling groped and unclean.

Her gaze turned to the tub. The need to wash off The Whisperer’s touch overwhelmed her.

“Are you all right?” the man asked through the door.

“I’m fine. I’m going to bathe.”

“I don’t think you’re steady enough yet.”

“I’m going to bathe,” she returned, her voice holding no compromise.

His silence gave away his reticence, but finally he said, “If you feel faint, yell.”

Victoria remained sitting while she stripped. Once finished, she stared at the pile of discarded clothing. “I think I’ll burn them.” She was certain she recalled seeing her suitcases in the bedroom. If that had been merely wishful thinking, she would borrow something from her host, but she was never going to slip one toe into the clothes on the bathroom floor ever again.

Climbing into the tub, she drew the shower curtain and turned on the water. As the hot water cascaded over her, she was certain nothing had ever felt this good. Her legs were still weak and when she bent over to pick up the bottle of shampoo on the side of the tub, dizziness threatened to send her reeling. Sitting down under the flow of the water, she waited until the sensation had subsided, then lathered her hair.

Luxury. Absolute luxury. She issued a sigh of pure pleasure as she rinsed the suds out of her hair, then soaped her body.

Standing by the door, fresh towel in hand, listening for any sign of trouble from inside, Lance frowned more darkly at himself. If she required help, he needed to be there in an instant. Time to bite the bullet.

Opening the door, he entered the room. The shower curtain prevented him from seeing her, but the remembered feel of her in his arms gave his imagination fodder and he found himself visualizing her nude body, wet and sudsy. Fire ignited within him. Erase that thought! he ordered himself.

“Are you all right?” he demanded.

Startled by his voice, she scooted to the back of the tub and peered around the curtain. “What are you doing in here?”

Lance had never seen a woman look more desirable. It took a great deal of effort, but outwardly he maintained a cool, indifferent facade. “I figured that if you fainted, I wouldn’t be much help in the hall,” he said with staid formality, while inwardly he fought a bout of lust more powerful than any he’d ever experienced.

She let the shower curtain fall between them again, seemed to take a moment to rinse thoroughly, then reached her arm around the curtain. “May I have a towel?”

Lance placed the towel in her hand. In his mind’s eye he visualized her first drying her hair, then rubbing down her body. His imagination was definitely working overtime. Anger that he was having so much trouble keeping his mind on the business at hand raged through him. This was not like him at all. Even in situations where he could not control all of the elements, he was always in total control of himself. Victoria Rockford was having a very disquieting effect on him.

“I’m certain I can make it back to the bedroom on my own,” she said through the curtain.

Lance would have liked nothing better than to obey the dismissal in her voice. But he couldn’t. “I’ll just stick around and make sure you don’t need a helping hand.”

The towel securely in place, Victoria pulled back the curtain.

Lance felt numb. She was even sexier than he’d imagined. Duty, man. Remember your duty, he ordered himself. Stepping back, he gave her room to step out of the tub. When she teetered slightly, he caught her by the elbow. The contact sent a charged current of heat racing through him.

Acutely aware of his touch, Victoria was startled to realize that she had no desire to pull away. Instead, she liked the feel of his hand…it made her feel secure, safe. He’s allowed you to see him. If he’s one of the bad guys, he’s probably planning to kill you eventually! she reminded herself and the safe feeling vanished.

When he released her quickly after they’d reached the hall, Victoria recognized that he’d held on to her for only as long as was absolutely necessary for her to regain her balance. Glancing toward him covertly, she saw his shuttered expression and her fear increased. On one hand, he was taking very good care of her. But on the other, his cold, impersonal behavior indicated that he did not consider her someone he wanted to befriend.

Able to make it back to the bedroom on her own, she entered and closed the door. Curiously, she missed her stoic companion’s presence. You really are muddled, she mocked herself. She didn’t even know if he was friend or foe. And right now, her money was on foe.

Chapter Two

Outside the bedroom door, Lance stood immobilized by indecision. He was not certain his control was strong enough, should he insist on helping Victoria dress. The effect she had on him was more than disturbing. It was unnerving.

Finally, deducing she was steady enough to find her own clothes and dress herself, he returned to the kitchen and finished warming up some soup. He carried it back to the bedroom and knocked before entering. Inside, he found her dressed in a fresh pair of slacks and a lightweight sweater, sitting in the chair he’d occupied earlier, combing her hair. She stopped and looked his way.

“Your soup,” he said, extending the cup of hot liquid toward her. “I thought you should start with something light.”

“Thank you,” she said, accepting the cup.

Lance seated himself on the end of the bed and studied her. The sunlight shone on her hair, highlighting strands of gold among the dark brown tresses. His gaze traveled to her face. Even without makeup she was beautiful. She’s a Thorton, of royal blood, and a woman I am sworn to serve, he reminded himself curtly.

Victoria was aware of his scrutiny as she sipped her soup. Looking at him, she said, “I would like to go home now.”

“It’s not safe for you to leave here just yet.” He read the distrust in her eyes. The last thing he needed was for her to try to run away from him. “I assure you, my concern is only for your welfare. It is my duty to see that no harm comes to you.”

“It is your duty to keep me safe from harm?”

Deciding she was not ready to hear the full truth just yet, he said simply, “Yes.”

Victoria tried to remember what he’d told her in the cabin. The memory was too vague, too filled with shadowy images. “And who did you say you are?”

“I am Captain Lance Grayson, Head of the Investigative Division of the Royal Security Detail of Thortonburg. I was assigned to find you.”

Victoria had to admit he did look like a protector. But she still wasn’t ready to trust him. “Do you have some sort of identification?”

From his pocket, he produced a leather-encased gold badge.

It looked real, Victoria admitted. But it didn’t make any sense that someone from the Royal Security Detail would be looking for her. Their duty was to protect the royal family. There were other agencies for commoners to turn to. “So you found me. Why can’t you take me home?”

“Your kidnappers are still at large. It is possible they will worry that you can identify them. They might seek to eliminate you. For now, it’s safest to keep you in hiding.”

His reasoning sounded plausible. Maybe the royal security people were called in on kidnappings. Those were very rare occurrences in their little country. Enlightenment suddenly dawned on her. “It was a mistake, wasn’t it? The kidnappers kidnapped the wrong person.”

“It was no mistake.”

She looked at him skeptically. “Then, do you know why I was kidnapped?”

“For ransom.”

Her disbelief increased. “That doesn’t make any sense. In the first place, my father isn’t wealthy. He’s a headmaster. And in the second place, anyone who knew anything about us would know he wouldn’t pay even a wooden nickel to set me free.” She flushed with embarrassment at having admitted to a stranger how strained her relationship with her father was, but her companion showed no surprise, only curiosity.

“To aid us in capturing the person or persons who abducted you, I need to know all you can remember about your kidnapping.”

Victoria would have preferred to forget the whole ordeal, but she wanted The Whisperer caught and brought to justice. And, if Captain Grayson was on the level, he was certainly the man who could do just that. “I remember arriving in Thortonburg. I’d taken the bus from the airport. I got in late. Very late. I was walking to my flat, when I was grabbed from behind.” She paused as a tremor of remembered fear shook her. “Something evil-smelling was pressed over my nose and mouth. I woke in the cabin, bound, gagged and blindfolded.” Suddenly realizing she had no clue as to how long she’d been in captivity, she asked, “What is today’s date?”

Lance told her.

“I was held for well over a week,” she murmured, then added, “it felt more like a year.”

Lance obviously sensed the strain that remembering was causing her because his tone softened to a gentle but firm coaxing. “What do you recall of your captivity?”

Again she found herself not wanting to remember. It was only Captain Grayson’s presence that made her feel secure enough to allow her mind to go back to those dreadful days. He was, she thought, very like a granite pillar. For a moment she remained silent to allow the memories to become clearer, then she spoke again. “I remember that when I first woke, there were ropes binding my wrists. I had almost gotten them loose when The Whisperer arrived.”

“The Whisperer?”

“That’s the name I gave my captor because he always whispered.” She shivered. “It was an ugly whisper. Malicious. I could swear I heard amusement in it as if he was enjoying himself immensely.”

He won’t enjoy himself when I catch up with him, Lance vowed. “You say you had almost freed yourself when he returned?”

Victoria nodded. “He said it was lucky for me he’d arrived when he did. He said that if I’d freed my hands and taken my blindfold off and seen him, he’d have to kill me. Then he said that would be a shame because he’d gone to so much trouble to see that he didn’t have to go that far. He told me he’d waited to start giving me sedatives until the chloroform had worn off so that he could be certain not to use too many drugs on me at any one time. Then he said he’d have to use his handcuffs in the future.”

“Do you remember anything that might identify the man you call The Whisperer?”

Victoria studied her proclaimed rescuer. Again, the thought played through her mind that if he was truly on her side, she had found a champion who could protect her. But nothing about what was happening to her made any sense. And the fact that he refused to take her home continued to feed her suspicions.

Then there was his very official, very stiff manner. On one hand, it was assuring. On the other, she would have felt more at ease if he’d behaved, at least a little, as if he wanted to be her friend. Until she found out what was really going on, she would trust no one. And as soon as the opportunity arose, she would escape and search out the truth on her own.

Turning her mind back to The Whisperer, Victoria concentrated hard for a long moment, then said, “No, nothing definitive. He came a couple of times a day, I think, and would unbind me, lead me to the facilities, let me use them, then have me drink down a can of something that tasted like a food supplement. Then he’d make me swallow more pills. The first couple of times, I tried not to swallow them, but he put a gun to my head and gave me no choice.’ A shiver of disgust shook her. “Every time he came, I required more and more help from him.” Not wanting to remember anymore, she turned her gaze to the window. “Since you will not take me home, will you at least allow me to go outside?”

“Yes, of course.” He rose and took the mug from her, then offered her his arm.

Studying the holstered gun as she accepted his aid to rise, she wondered if she could extract it from the holster quicker than he could stop her. At the moment, she knew she couldn’t, and without the gun she was no match for his strength. So for now she would continue to play his game, whatever that game was. Once on her feet, she released him. She could not shake the fear that he was the enemy and his sturdiness unnerved her. “I can walk on my own,” she said.

Respectful of her wish, Lance stepped back and allowed her to proceed ahead of him.

Victoria moved slowly, not only because her body was still sluggish, but also because she wanted to survey her surroundings. The room across from the bedroom looked like a study. Pausing at the doorway, she asked, “Whose house is this?”

“Mine,” Lance replied.

His answer was encouraging. Surely he would not have taken her to his place if he intended to harm her. It would be too difficult to get rid of all the evidence that she’d been there. Wondering if he would stop her, she entered the study, hoping to find clues that would tell her if her host was being honest with her.

Aware of the furtive glances she’d cast his way, Lance knew she still didn’t trust him. He couldn’t blame her. Her kidnapping had been a terrible ordeal. And, because she didn’t know the whole truth, a confusing one. In her shoes, he wouldn’t be ready to trust too quickly, either.

He was well aware of the strained relationship between father and daughter, but for Victoria to suspect Malcolm Rockford wouldn’t lift a finger, or spare a dime, to save her saddened him.

He found himself thinking that most men would believe she was worth much more than her weight in gold and jewels. There was an aura about her that lit up a room. The Grand Duke was certain to be pleased when she was presented to him.

Hoping that allowing her the freedom to explore his home would ease her distrust of him, he remained in the doorway, making no move to stop her.

She paused in front of a large, well-stocked bookcase. It contained everything from classics to the most current modern fiction. “Have you really read all of these books?”

“Yes.”

Surprise registered on her face. She turned to him. “Really?”

“Yes.”

“I’m impressed.” She turned her attention to a wall with an assortment of photographs and plaques. The photographs were of him with Victor Thorton, Grand Duke of Thortonburg, and King Phillip of Wynborough, along with other members of their respective royal families. Inscriptions thanked him for his service. The plaques were special honors for bravery. There were also two glass shadow boxes with military medals, including two medals for valor. Clearly, she could see he was who he said he was.

She turned to him again. “You’ve had a very notable career.”

The stoic mask he had trained himself to always keep in place remained unchanged, but the honest admiration in her voice caused a surge of pleasure deep within. I’m merely relieved that she finally believes me, he told himself. Aloud, he said, “I take my duty very seriously.”

Victoria looked back at the photographs. His expression in each was the same one of cool command. Again, she turned back to him. “Do you ever smile?”

Lance knew others considered him a bit too grim, but he was comfortable with the path he’d chosen. Though many thought of him as cold and, perhaps, in some cases even unlikable, they always turned to him when they needed help. “Not when I’m on duty.”

Victoria continued to study him. “Maybe your muscles are already frozen in that position and you can’t smile.” She gulped, as if normally she was a bit more prudent than that.

Lance found himself having to fight to keep the corners of his mouth from tilting upward. “That is possible.”

Victoria saw the hint of amusement in his eyes. That he could laugh at himself made him seem a little less austere and certainly more human. In the next instant the amusement was gone, replaced by cool command. Clearly, he was intent on keeping any softer side of himself private. Heading to the door, she noticed that he stepped back immediately to allow her to exit.

“You have a very comfortable home,” she said, as she glanced into the kitchen, then continued on into the living room. “Definitely on the masculine side, but nice.”

Again Lance was surprised by how very pleased her approval made him. Long ago he’d stopped caring what other people thought and lived his life by his own personal code. “I hope that means you won’t mind spending a few days here, if that proves necessary.”

Victoria opened the French doors that led out onto a wide, screened-in porch facing the ocean. This was the kind of place she’d hoped to find for herself one day. But that was in the future. Right now she must deal with the present.

Although her body was still somewhat weak, the languid effect of the drugs on her mind had nearly worn off. At an early age, she had taken command of her life. It was time for her to take control again. “I hope you don’t take this wrong. Your home is very pleasant, your view is magnificent and you’ve been very kind, but I have a life to get back to. I took a leave of absence from my job because I felt the need to get away for a time. My mother’s death has been very difficult for me to accept. But I should be getting back before they decide to give my job to someone else.”

“I have already explained that it is not yet safe for you to return home.”

Again The Whisperer’s hot, ugly breath blowing against her face came back to haunt her and terror curled through her. “When will it be safe?”

“Soon.”

Victoria could not shake the feeling that he wasn’t telling her everything. Stepping out onto the porch, she considered going down to the beach, but her legs were tiring. “What kind of drug did they give me? And when is it going to wear off?” she demanded in frustration, seating herself on the porch swing.

“I can’t be certain what drug, exactly. Some sort of sedative,” he replied. “The reason you’re still sluggish is because of the cumulative effect and your forced inactivity. Being up and moving around should help you to improve fairly rapidly.”

Even knowing her host was who he claimed to be, Victoria remained uneasy. Being kidnapped didn’t make sense. Being rescued by royal commandos and then protected by such a high-ranking royal security person made even less sense. Looking up and down the beach, she saw no other houses. “Just exactly where are we?” Even as she asked, she wondered if he’d answer.

“We’re about an hour and a half southwest of Thortonburg.”

Alarms sounded in her mind. “That’s a bit far for you to commute, isn’t it?”

“I have quarters in the castle. This is my private retreat.”

That was plausible, she conceded. Still, as her gaze again swept the beach in both directions and she saw no signs that anyone else was near, her uneasiness increased. “Definitely private.”

“The thirty acres to the north belong to Sir Ralph Bryce. The twenty acres to the south belong to Charles Howser, the wealthy industrialist. Both like their privacy, so they have built their homes at quite a distance apart.”

Victoria knew the men from articles written about them in the tabloids. Both traveled extensively, causing her to guess they were rarely at their beach homes. If she did discover she needed to escape, she probably couldn’t count on finding one of them at home to aid her. “So just how long do you predict I will have to stay here?”

“The ransom is scheduled to be paid tomorrow morning in a park in the Mulberry neighborhood of Thortonburg. With luck, your captor will either return to the cabin and be caught there, or he’ll be captured when he attempts to pick up the ransom.”

“My father actually came through with the ransom?” she asked incredulously.

“Yes. But, since you have been freed, we’ll be putting out a decoy rather than the real money.”

Victoria hardly noticed what he said. She was still reeling from the knowledge that Malcolm had been willing to pay her ransom. “I still can’t believe Father came up with the money. If it had been my sister, Rachel, I could understand. He always favored her. But he treated me like dirt under his boot.” The thought that the threat of her death had made Malcolm realize he did care for her brought a rush of joy. For most of her life she’d told herself she didn’t care what he thought. Now she admitted that she had wanted him to care for her. He was, after all, her father. “I should call him.”

When she started to rise, Lance moved into a position that blocked her entrance into the house. “That wouldn’t be wise.”

Immediately, Victoria was on her guard. Maybe her host was a good guy turned bad. But that didn’t make any sense. If he’d wanted to kidnap someone for ransom, surely he would have chosen one of the royals. He certainly had easy access to them. “Why can’t I call my father?”

Lance had been prepared for this. “His phone might be bugged and we don’t want the kidnappers to know you’re free.”

“Surely you would know if it was bugged or not.”

She looked like a filly ready to bolt. Lance didn’t like being the one to deliver the news, but the time had come to tell her the truth. “There are things you need to know.”

His words carried an ominous ring. Meeting his gaze, Victoria saw uneasiness in the gray depths of his eyes. Clearly he was worried about how she would take whatever it was he had to tell her. Her body stiffened as she braced herself. “What do I need to know?”

“There is no easy way to say this.” Lance paused.

He’s going to tell me that he’s part of the kidnapping plot and has to kill me! Victoria’s hands balled into fists. She would not go down without a fight. “Just say it,” she demanded through clenched teeth.

“Malcolm Rockford is not your father.”

Victoria sat starting at him dumbly. If she’d made a list of a hundred things he might tell her, that revelation would not even have entered her mind. “That’s absurd.”

Lance saw the shock on her face and took a step toward her in order to catch her if she should faint. As he drew nearer, the desire to take her hands in his as an offer of support was strong. Telling himself it would not be proper, he held himself back. Deep within, he was forced to admit there was another reason he wanted to avoid any contact. Just looking at her had a disquieting effect on him. Touching her threatened to crack the shield he kept around his emotions and that was something he would not allow. “It is the truth.”

“Are you telling me that I was one of those babies who was accidentally switched at birth in the hospital?”

“No.” Lance had thought that once he got the first part out, the rest would be easy. It wasn’t. If she had idolized her mother, what he had to tell her next could be an even greater blow.