Christmas Conspiracy

Someone had locked them in the barn.

Someone had tried to kill them.

Logan dashed into the room, catching her as she fell against the nearby bureau. “What are you doing out of bed?”

She clung to him, hating the way the room spun in crazy circles. “I don’t know what we’re doing here, but I have to leave. Now. Oh, God, how long have I been out?”

“A couple hours. You’ve been sedated.”

“I have to go home.” The twins. They’d be upset. It had to be at least noon. And Paulina, the babysitter. Kat was so late. She tried to push past Logan. “I have responsibilities.”

Logan placed her back on the bed, and pressed her shoulders into the down pillow. He hovered over her. “You were severely dehydrated, suffering from exhaustion, thrashing and crying out in your sleep. I couldn’t take a chance that you’d hurt yourself.”

She stared into his face, struggling to keep it in focus, stunned he wasn’t a dream. She’d had enough over the past three years to wonder. She blinked. He was real. He’d changed. Oh, his brown hair was still cut short, a tad longer than a military cut, and he’d lost some weight, but more than that. His hazel eyes were stressed and tired in his lean face, but she also saw something in them she didn’t expect. Concern? Worry? For her?

Feeling woozy, unable to help herself, she let her hand hover over the scar marring his cheek, a scar that hadn’t been there three years ago. She wanted to touch him, but she couldn’t let herself. She had more than her own wishes to think about now. “I need to go home. You have to take me there.”

He clasped her hand in his. “Kat, it’s going to have to wait.”

“Not happening, Logan. I need to leave and there’s something I have to tell you on the way. You’re not going to li—”

The bedroom door slammed open.

“What do you think you’re doing, Carmichael? You will not touch her.”

A distinguished man, his salt-and-pepper hair perfectly styled, and dressed in a suit that must have cost two years’ salary, strode in. He acted as if he owned the world, and two hulking figures trailed behind him like mindless minions.

Logan turned, shielding her from view. Kat shoved at him to move aside but he planted his feet and crossed his arms over his chest.

“Are you trying to get her killed?” Logan’s soft voice dripped ice from every word. “I told you not to come here. What if you were followed?”

One of the burly bodyguards pushed to the fore. “You will not speak to His Majesty in that tone.”

Without moving, Logan stared the man down. “Back off, Sergei. I’m in no mood to play protocol games. I said I’d arrange the meet.”

“And no one commands the King of Bellevaux,” the ruler snapped, his accent deepening. “My business cannot wait. I have less than two weeks to ensure my daughter doesn’t embarrass me or her country.”

Kat leaned against the bed, the king’s words swirling in her mind. Okay, the sedative might still be wreaking havoc in her system, but the royal invasion had been doing a fine job of clearing her head until that bizarre comment. Who was this guy’s daughter?

Logan’s voice turned lower and deadlier. “And I’m responsible for making sure Kat stays alive, which you don’t seem to care about since you kept her true identity from me until it was almost too late.”

The king’s face reddened. “You found her. I’m here to claim her. Now step away from my daughter!”

“Excuse me? I’m not an object, and I am definitely not your daughter.” Kat peered around Logan and tumbled over the side of the bed, landing in a heap. He knelt to help her, but she shoved him aside and stood, fighting the dizziness. “Logan, what’s going on? Who is this joker?” she asked, praying her head would stop pounding.

Her ex-lover turned, and she gasped at the tension in his jaw making his scar stand out in relief. Logan let out a stream of air. “He’s your father. King Leopold of Bellevaux. You are Princess Katherine, his only heir.”

No. This couldn’t be happening.

“That’s why you showed up out of nowhere this morning? For him?”

The truth flickered in Logan’s guilty gaze.

A fledgling hope that he’d come for her after all this time went up in flames as hot and deadly as the barn fire. More and more of the sedative’s effect faded. She turned away from Logan to stare at the stranger who was supposedly her father. King Leopold. Impossible. She felt no bond with him.

The man, wearing Armani, looked her up and down as if he were studying a filly to purchase. “Good cheekbones. Passable figure. Maybe we can gloss over the cowgirl foolishness. I think we can make something of her. Bring her,” he said to the man at his side and turned his back. “We’ll begin her training on the plane.”

“Now hold on a minute—”

Sergei started toward her and Kat stepped back, looking for an escape. “I’m not going anywhere, and you can’t make me.”

“I can do exactly that,” the monarch said, his expression dangerous. “I am your father. And your king.”

Kat’s knees quaked, but somehow she remained upright. “No. My father is dead. Mom told me—”

“Your mother lied.” King Leopold raised his chin and narrowed his gaze, looking down on her. “You will come with me now and fulfill your duty. You will be announced as my successor in two weeks. As the future Queen of Bellevaux, there are naturally security concerns, so it’s best we get you to the palace immediately.”

Kat could barely breathe. “Security concerns?” Her mind whirled as the morning’s events became clearer in her mind. “Like people coming after me, trying to kill me because I might be a stupid princess?”

Logan’s words finally made sense. Kat turned on the king. “We were locked in that burning barn because of you?”

“You will be the next queen.”

“No way. I gave up tiaras for cowboy boots when I was six. Find someone else to play dress up.” Kat shoved Logan aside and stalked to her scuffed boots, propped against an elegant mahogany dresser. “I’m not putting my children’s lives in danger for anyone.”

“Children?” Both Logan and the king shouted at her.

Kat whirled around. “Yes. My children. And I need to get to them now. If a killer came after me, he could go after them, too.”

Kat grabbed her Ropers and stuffed one foot in, then the other. She ignored her shaking hands. She had to get to Lanie and Hayden. She needed to see her kids, hug them, hold them, make sure they were okay. They were her family. Her only family.

Her eyes stung. She didn’t need some father who didn’t bother coming around until she was full grown, bringing danger into her life. She didn’t need anyone.

She chanced a glance at Logan. His expression had turned stone still. She wouldn’t have been able to recognize how badly her words had shocked him if she hadn’t watched his index finger scratching against his thumb. She recognized the sign. She’d seen it the last time while she’d hidden from him. He’d come to her house right after she’d run. He’d cursed the empty building, then left. Kat had wanted to move, but she couldn’t. She couldn’t let herself hope.

A few months later she’d learned the hard way that she’d been right. Logan didn’t really want her.

The king interrupted her thoughts.

“Your offspring. Do you have a son?” A small smile tilted his lips.

She didn’t like the predatory gleam in his eye. “What does it matter? This facade is over. Go back where you came from, and leave me and mine alone.”

She stalked to the door, grateful the sedative had worn off so she didn’t resemble a drunk on a Friday night bar crawl.

“Stop her,” the king ordered his flunky.

Sergei lunged at Kat. She stumbled away from him.

Logan stepped between them, cutting the man off. “I don’t think so.”

“You dare—”

“I dare a lot,” Logan said. “Move away. Now.”

Sergei didn’t stop coming. Kat braced herself. She’d fight. For her kids. With a single swipe Logan laid the man on the ground with a Taekwondo move. Logan pressed his arm against the man’s windpipe. “Don’t think about crossing me. You won’t win.”

Sergei’s eyes bugged out. He coughed and nodded his head.

Kat had never seen Logan this way. He was swift and deadly. She had no doubt he could maim or kill Sergei if he wanted to. The muscles in Logan’s arms tensed as he pressed against Sergei’s neck once more, then let him go with a warning glare.

“You’ve made your point,” the king announced. “Which is why I didn’t fire you when my son was murdered on your watch.”

Kat gasped.

“Yes, young woman. Both of your half brothers were assassinated. Now do you see why you need protection?”

Kat’s body went numb. “Logan?” She looked toward him, wanting nothing more than reassurance, but seeing none in his gaze.

“I’m sorry. You do need protection. This morning proves it.”

She couldn’t listen any longer. “We have to get my kids now.”

“As my heir, you are coming with me,” King Leopold commanded, his face and voice stubborn. “Logan, retrieve the children and meet me at the plane. We’ll leave for Bellevaux at the earliest opportunity.”

“No!” She’d fought too hard to take control of her life—for her and her children. She raced across the suite, yanked the door open and bolted down the hall.

“Kat!” Logan bolted after her, jamming the door to the suite. A spew of curses rose as Sergei and his men slammed against the wood. She didn’t know how long it would hold.

Kat threw open the door to the stairwell. She had to get away. She’d go home, grab the twins and disappear. Someway, somehow. She’d never let her children around the man who claimed to be her father.

Heavy footsteps pounded after her, getting closer and closer. Within two flights Logan caught her by the arm and pulled her against him.

She shoved at his chest. “Let me go.”

He pressed her to the wall. “Calm down. I just want to talk for one second. We need a quick plan.”

She stilled. “We?”

“Yeah,” he said, touching her cheek. “We.”

“I’m not going with the king.”

“We’ll work something out, but you need to listen to me.”

She gritted her teeth. “Why should I trust you? You drugged me.”

“I didn’t know about your children. If I had, I would have done things differently. I would have taken you to get them first.” Logan dropped his forehead against hers. “Please, Kat. I won’t let anything happen to you or them. I promise.”

She took a deep breath. “You’ll get me out of here?”

Logan lifted his head and met her gaze. “I’ll find a safe place for you and your kids.”

The truth of his words hung in the air between them.

She finally nodded. She needed help.

He kept his Glock ready. “Let’s go. We have to keep moving.”

They raced down the stairs. “If the king finds us, you won’t just hand over my kids?”

Logan stiffened beside her. “How could you ask me that?”

“I knew you for one week three years ago and you said you were a rancher, but you work for a king now.”

“I am a rancher. One who’s done some jobs for King Leopold over the years,” Logan conceded. At the next level, he checked the small window to the hallway, before moving on. “I own a private investigation and security firm.”

Kat’s breaths came harder, but a flicker of hope glimmered. “Can you take us where I don’t have to worry about him coming after us?” She grabbed his wool sweater. “I won’t take any chances. Not with my children.”

“I understand needing to protect your family, Kat.” He helped her round the next level. “We’ll have to make preparations. How old are your kids?”

Kat hesitated. She’d never thought to face this moment. Not after he’d had his ranch hands turn her away. “They’re two and a half,” she whispered softly, not wanting to meet his gaze, but knowing she had no choice.

Comprehension flashed across his face, and he tightened his grip on her arm. “They’re mine?”

“I tried to tell—”

Above them, a door slammed open, and he cursed. “Save it. We need to get you out of here.”

He grabbed her hand and pulled her down the stairs before she could argue. She’d tried to tell him when she’d found out. He was the one who hadn’t wanted her.

When they reached the second to the last landing, a masked figure, pistol in hand, rammed through the door beside them. He aimed directly at Kat.

Logan tackled her and twisted his body to shield her. Both men’s guns went off.

Logan sucked in a sharp breath. “Stay back,” he snapped.

Faster than she could comprehend, he twisted his legs into a scissor lock around the assailant’s knees and ankles and tripped him. The man tumbled down the stairs and slammed into the wall headfirst. Logan raced to follow, then stopped.

“Damn,” he muttered.

The attacker stared sightlessly back, his neck at an unnatural angle.

Logan bent down and removed the balaclava that masked the man’s features, then swore. “This is one of Leopold’s guards. I warned him he’d been infiltrated. If you’d gone with the king …”

“What if he’d gotten near the children?” She couldn’t stop her voice from shaking.

Logan grabbed Kat’s hand and pulled her to him. Kat huddled against Logan’s chest, unable to stop trembling. Please let this be a nightmare. Please let me wake up. Please let my babies be all right.

Logan looked as if he wanted to say something, but he sighed and tapped his phone.

“Meet me at the back entrance. We’re going to Plan B.” A Russian curse sounded above them. “Sergei.”

They hurried out the stairwell and around the corner.

“I’m late,” Kat said. “I need to call my kids.”

“You mean our kids?”

Kat nodded, a feeling of dread spreading inside her. “Yes. Our kids.”

“You have one minute.” He slipped a small metal tool into a locked maintenance closet door, closed them in and handed the phone over. She fumbled so many times he finally took the cell back.

“What’s the number?”

Kat told him, then waited as he held the phone to his ear for a long time.

He hit a button and waited again.

“What’s going on?”

Logan frowned. “It just keeps ringing. Do you have an answering machine?”

Her heart stopped. “Yes, but Paulina should have picked up by now. She’s the babysitter and she wasn’t planning on taking the kids out today.”

“Well, the machine didn’t answer and neither did anyone else.”

THE THRONE ROOM WAS EMPTY.

It wouldn’t be for long.

The double doors whispered open and cautious footsteps crossed the marble floors toward the spot where the duke stood admiring the way the gold-plated walls glistened.

He ignored the simpering fool behind him and continued his perusal.

After the redecoration in the wake of the recent massacre, this was now a room befitting his future plans for Bellevaux. No longer would it simply be a tourist destination wallowing in a glorious past. Countries would be courting Bellevaux’s resources for the first time in a half century.

Rare earth metals were prized on the black market for weapon development. All he needed to take his place in Bellevaux’s history were the right partners. The man who could parlay the metals into money had landed in his lap. His greater dilemma—a princess with a royal bloodline accepted by the people. Leopold’s daughter was perfect, no matter how common. Once he had an heir off her, the American cowgirl could be disposed of. Everything was falling into place. As long as he maintained control.

“We have a problem, Your Grace.”

The Duke of Sarbonne turned. “Did I grant you permission to speak, Niko?”

His advisor swallowed. “I beg your pardon.”

“Very well.” The duke nodded. “I’m beginning to believe our friends in America are not as competent as they claimed. Too many mistakes. Too long to gather information. Perhaps they have no stomach for what is required.”

“There is news,” Niko’s voice rushed out. “The princess has children. One is rumored to be a boy.”

The duke stilled.

“Your Grace?”

“Leave me,” he snapped.

“As you wish.” Niko bowed, his entire body shaking.

The doors whispered shut. The duke placed his hands behind his back and studied the exquisite tapestry from the Middle Ages depicting his ancestor in ruthless battle as that duke defeated his brother and seized the crown of Bellevaux. The sword the man had used hung prominently behind the throne now. Luminal would probably still reveal the ancient blood of those fools who sought to challenge.

Modern-day warfare required a different manner of weapon, but the duke intended the present outcome to be no less lethal. He retrieved his cell phone from his pocket.

“I assume you’ve heard about the … complications?”

“Yes, Your Grace. Or should I say Your Majesty.”

“Soon.” He liked the way the title sounded. Before too long, the entire country would embrace him as such. “Eliminate them, but the princess must live.”

“Your Grace—”

“I told you, Victor, I need a princess. Take care of her illegitimate litter and you’ll have all the rare earth metals you can mine.”

“Then it will be done … Your Majesty.”

“Victor, I’m not finished. Any mistakes, and I will be … disappointed.” Sarbonne smiled at the memory of his morning’s activities. “A state which has proved … most unhealthy … for others in the past.”

Chapter Two

Logan pulled Kat around to the service elevator and punched the basement button. He didn’t want to meet anyone else. One bullet wound near his shoulder was enough for now. Good thing it wasn’t bad. He couldn’t deal with first aid until later, so the cloth napkin he’d stolen off a breakfast tray would have to suffice for a bandage.

Logan’s mind spun at the strange new truths shoved at him over the last few minutes. Kat was a princess. He was a father. No one was answering the phone where his children were supposed to be.

He had children.

Twins.

If he’d only known he could have sent a security team for them. He’d spent hours watching Kat sleep while horrible things could have been happening to his kids. The realization made him shake. He’d faced terrorists in Afghanistan and Iran, double agents who wanted him dead, and that didn’t come close to his fear at the responsibility for two innocent lives. Lives he should have been protecting all this time.

The service elevator doors slid open and Logan pressed Kat behind him. He peered into the hallway, looking for Sergei, or rogue gunmen. Maids and kitchen staff bustled toward two large sets of swinging doors.

“This way,” Logan said.

They followed a waiter and wove through the chaotic kitchen, then out through a delivery door.

Stepping into the bright winter sun behind the hotel, Logan’s tension eased a fraction as a familiar black SUV with its window slightly down screeched to a stop in front of them.

Kat pulled back, her glimpse of the driver’s stern visage and eye patch obviously scaring her.

“It’s okay. Rafe’s one of my best men.”

The certainty in his words niggled at Logan’s gut. He’d believed Daniel to be his closest friend and ally. Despite his trust, Logan had to keep his guard up.

He bundled Kat into the backseat and slid in beside her, his Glock on his lap. The darkened windows hid their identity, and he gave their surroundings a quick scan. Nothing tripped his alert wire. “Get us out of here fast, Rafe. Evasive maneuvers and keep your gun ready. I’m running red.”

Logan met Rafe’s intent gaze in the rearview mirror, but his right-hand man didn’t hesitate or question how badly Logan was wounded.

Rafe pulled out, constantly checking the special mirrors set up to accommodate the temporary patch over his left eye. “Where to?”

Kat grabbed the seat in front of her. “We have to go to—”

Logan interrupted her. “Just lose anyone following us for now. We can’t chance a tail.”

At the stricken look in her eyes, his own stress surged. “Soon, Kat. This is a precaution for their safety, too. It’ll just add a few minutes.” His heart pounded at the thought of what could happen in a few minutes. Then again, if he led the killers to Kat’s house, they’d all end up dead.

Logan’s cell phone rang. He checked the number, not surprised to see the king’s identification. Logan touched his earpiece. “I’m not bringing her to your hotel. I’ll get back to you when I’m sure she’s safe. By the way, if you’re missing a bodyguard, he broke his neck in the hotel stairwell.”

Logan ignored the tirade directed at him. “Yeah, well, your ‘faithful servant’ tried to kill Kat as we left. The background checks of your royal guards suck, Your Majesty. Think about that.”

Logan ended the call and tapped another line.

“Hunter here.”

Thank God. Logan couldn’t have asked for a better operative to shadow the king. Hunter was on leave from an organization that was so far out of reach even the CIA couldn’t pin them down. But his friend was based in Europe. He knew Bellevaux—and its politics.

“Keep the royal entourage in your sights. I need to know who’s communicating with whom. Someone leaked our location. Twice.”

His children’s existence could have already made its way to the wrong people. Just the thought and Logan’s stomach churned. If they’d been willing to burn Kat alive … He couldn’t let himself think of worse possibilities.

“You want to bring the rest of your team in?” Hunter asked.

“No,” Logan said. “Don’t call anyone until I know where the mole is. For now, it’s just you and Rafe.”

“Got it. Hunter out.”

Logan pocketed the cell, fighting the urge to call Kat’s house again. He could see her trembling beside him, her eyes wide and fearful, her knuckles whitened. Did she realize—as the SUV twisted and turned through downtown Houston getting lost among the traffic until they reached the third ward—that Rafe was bringing them nearer to her house all the time?

Logan had found her address while she’d been sedated. Would it scare her that he knew where she lived? If he found it, surely those searching for her had, too.

Unable to resist, he tugged her hand from her lap. “We’ll get there.” He stroked her soft skin. She heaved a shuddering breath and nodded, her fingers relaxing slightly under his caress.

Rafe took another turn aiming toward the 601 loop. “No one is following us. Where to?” he asked, giving Kat a curious glance.

“Can I tell him?” she asked.

“Yeah, I trust him.”

“But you don’t trust all your men.” She said it more as a statement of fact than as a question. “You just said as much to the man on the phone.”

Logan hesitated, hoping she didn’t hear about Daniel anytime soon. No need to worry her more than she already was. “I do trust them, and I don’t think the leak is from my camp, but I’m not willing to take chances with our children’s lives.”

Logan met Rafe’s shocked gaze in the rearview mirror for a half second, but that’s all it took for the man to understand how much the stakes had changed.

Imperceptibly, the SUV sped up and headed in the right direction.

“The address?” Rafe asked again.

“Pasadena,” Kat said quietly. She gave the location in a Houston suburb. They crossed south through some tough neighborhoods. Logan looked around, feeling his tension rise as he took in the sights. His kids were living in this area? Maybe in houses like these? Neighborhoods like these?

Places where walking to the grocery store could become a lesson in danger.

While he had a sprawling ranch, with dogs and horses and acres of land, and he lived the loneliest life a man ever had. All because Kat never told him he was a father.

Never gave him the chance to offer his kids something different.