The Lost Princes: Darius, Cassius and Monte

He slid open the little compartment, flipped out the battery and checked behind it. Nothing. He put the battery back and switched it off, then tossed it back to her.

“I’ll have to ask you to leave it turned off,” he told her. “A working mobile is a basic homing device.”

Funny—and sad, but turning off her cell phone would have seemed like turning off her source of oxygen until very recently. But now it didn’t really faze her. Most of the people she might expect a call from were gone. The people most important to her no longer existed in her life. With a shudder, she pushed that thought away.

But her mind was finally clearing and she was beginning to realize this whole security exercise was not the normal routine for overnight guests, at least, not in her experience. What the heck was he doing here?

She set the phone down and glared at him. “Would you like to explain just exactly why it’s suddenly too dangerous here?” she asked crisply. “And why you feel the need to search for bugs and homing devices? Are you expecting some sort of home invasion? Or just being friendly?”

The corners of his mouth quirked but there was no hint of humor in his blue eyes. “Just being careful,” he said evasively. “Crossing all the t’s, dotting all the i’s. As they say, better safe than sorry.”

“Hmm,” she said, cocking her head to the side as she gazed at him. “And yet, here I’ve been feeling safe for all these years without ever once submitting to a strip search. Just foolishly naive, I guess.”

Her tone was mocking and he felt the sting. “Ayme, I don’t like this any more than you do.”

“Really?” Her tone was getting worse and she knew it, but, darn it all, he deserved it. He took a step forward and she took a corresponding step back, staying just out of reach.

“Can you tell me what exactly you’re looking for?” she demanded. “Will you know it when you see it?”

“Yes, I’ll know it when I see it,” he said, nodding. “Now will you just stay put for a minute?”

“I don’t think so.” She made a sideways move that put even more distance between them.

“Ayme, be reasonable.”

“Reasonable!” She laughed out loud. “Reasonable? You call searching me to see if I’m wearing a bug reasonable? I call it unacceptable. And I’m not going to accept it.”

“You’re going to have to accept it.”

“Don’t you think any bugs are more likely to be in my clothing or luggage?” she noted quickly.

He nodded his agreement. She was absolutely right. But there was another element to this situation. Now that he’d alerted her to his intentions, he had to follow through without giving her a chance to go behind his back to get rid of anything she might know about that she had on her. He’d started this train down the track and he had to follow it to the end if this was to be in any way effective.

“I’m planning to search your things. But first I need to search you.”

He gave her a stern look as he followed her sideways move.

“Hold still.”

Reaching out, she quickly dragged a chair between them and gazed defiantly over it.

“Why are you doing this, David? Who’s after you? Whom do you suspect?”

He moved the chair aside and stepped closer.

“We don’t have time to go into that.”

“No, wait,” she said, half rolling across the bed and landing on her feet without losing her sheet. Now she’d put the entire bed between them and she was feeling a bit smug about that.

Not that her success would hold up. She knew that. Still, she hoped it was getting through to him that she was not happy about all this and she was not about to give in.

“David, tell me what’s changed,” she challenged. “Something must have.” She frowned at him questioningly. “When you first found me here, you were annoyed, sure, but now it’s different. Now you’re on guard in an edgier way.” Her eyes narrowed. “It was that phone call, wasn’t it?”

He hesitated, then nodded. “Yes,” he admitted.

“Do you know who it was?”

He shook his head. “No, but it seemed like a wake-up call. It made me realize I was being too casual about you.”

“Too casual! I beg to differ.”

He stared at her and growled, “Ayme, enough. We need to get going. But first, we’ve got to check you out. Someone might have put a bug on you somewhere, somehow.”

“Without me noticing?”

“That’s what they do, Ayme. They’re experts at attaching devices to your clothes or your purse or even your body in ways you wouldn’t think of.”

“Who? Who do you think would do that?”

“I don’t know. Maybe this character who gave you my name.”

She shook her head, thinking that one over. It didn’t make any sense at all. “But he’s the one who gave me your address. He already knows where you live. Why would he…?”

“Ayme, I don’t know,” he said impatiently. “And when you don’t know things, it’s best to cover all the bases. Will you stand still and let me look you over? I promise I won’t…”

“No.” Her voice was a little shaky, but adamant. “It won’t do any good, anyway. I’ve seen those TV shows. They have gotten very inventive about hiding things on people. There’s no way you can check it all. There’s no way I would let you.”

He sighed, shaking his head as he looked at her.

“You think I don’t know that? I can only do so much, and probably only find something if it’s pretty obvious. But I have to try. Look, Ayme, I’m really sorry, but…”

Her face lit up as she thought of a solution. She looked at him speculatively, wondering if he would go for it. With a shrug, she decided she had nothing to lose.

“I’ll do it,” she said firmly, shaking back her hair.

He stared at her. “You’ll do it? You’ll do what?”

Her smile was bemused. “I’ll do it. Myself. Why not? Who knows my body better?” She gave him a grin that was almost mischievous. “You’re going to have to trust me.”

He stared. Trust her? But that wouldn’t work. Would it?

Why not? asked a voice inside his head. Look at that face. If you can’t trust this woman, you can’t trust anyone.

Which was actually what he’d pledged from the beginning—don’t trust anyone. Still, there were times when you just had to make concessions to reality.

“Okay,” he said at last. “Go for it. We’ll see how you do.”

“I’ll see how I do,” she corrected. “You’ll be going over my bags and clothes. With your back to me. Got it?”

“Ayme,” he began in exasperation, but she signaled that he should turn away. It was pretty apparent that following her orders was going to be the only way to move things along, and they really needed to get going. So, reluctantly, he did as she demanded.

He went through her things methodically. He’d had some training in this sort of search in some security classes he’d taken lately, so he didn’t feel as strange handling her panties and bras as he might have under other circumstances. He had to take it on faith that she was doing her part. She chattered away throughout the entire exercise—and he didn’t find a thing.

“I really understand, you know,” she was saying. “And I want to do a good job at this because I figure, if I’m going with you, the danger is as much to me and Cici as it is to you.”

“You got it,” he said. “That’s the whole point.”

“So I just want you to know, I’m really being meticulous.”

“Good.”

“Searching every place I can think of.”

That gave him pictures in his head he didn’t want to dwell on and he shook off a delicious little shiver.

“Are you finished?” he asked at last, waiting for the okay to turn around.

“Just about,” she said. “Listen, I saw this one show on TV where they had these little homing signal things sort of stapled into a man’s skin. What do you think? Is that really a possibility?”

“Sure.”

She hesitated. “Okay then, I’ve been going over every inch of skin, feeling for any strange lumps, and I haven’t found anything suspicious. But just to be safe…”

He turned and looked at her. She was standing just as before with the sheet pulled around her and clutched to her chest, watching him with those huge dark eyes.

“What?”

She sighed and looked sad. “I can’t see my back. I can’t reach it, either.”

He stood very still, looking at her. “Oh.”

She licked her lips, then tried to smile. “You’re going to have to do it.”

“Oh,” he said again, and suddenly his mouth was dry and it felt like he hadn’t taken a breath for too long.

“Okay, then.”

He was willing.

Chapter Four

THIS was nuts.

David swore softly, trying to get a handle on this crazy reaction he was having. She was just a woman. He’d been with more women than he wanted to think about. He didn’t get nervous around females anymore. He’d gotten over that years ago. He’d made successful passes at some international beauties in his day, film stars, rock singers, even a female bull fighter, without a qualm. So why was his heart thumping in his chest as he approached Ayme to check out her back?

She stood there so demurely, holding the sheet tightly to her chest so that it gaped in back, exposing everything down to the tailbone, but not much else. The entire back was there, interrupted only by the slender scrap of lace that was the band of her bra, but that might as well have been invisible. He didn’t even notice it. He reached out to push her hair back off her neck, his fingers trailing across her warm skin, and the flesh beneath his hand seemed to glow.

“Okay, I’ll do this as fast as I can,” he said, then cleared his throat to try to stop the ridiculous quavering he could hear in his voice. “I’m just going to run my hand across your back a few times.”

“Get it all,” she said, head tilted up bravely. “I can take it.” She drew in her breath as his fingers began to move.

“But don’t linger,” she warned softly.

Don’t linger.

For some reason, those words echoed over and over in his head as he worked. Her skin was buttery smooth, summer-day hot, totally tempting, and every inch seemed to resonate to his touch. But he swore to himself that he wasn’t going to notice anything, no matter how crazy it made him. He wasn’t going to notice how good she smelled or how sweetly her curves seemed to fill his hand.

So why was his breath coming so fast? Why was his body tightening like a vise? This was insane. He was responding to her like he hadn’t responded to a woman in ages. And all he was doing was checking for foreign objects on her back.

And being subtly seduced by her gorgeous body. He closed his eyes as he made a last pass down as low as he dared let himself go, and then drew back, saying, “We’d better check your underclothes, too,” and heard his voice break in the middle of it.

He swore angrily, feeling his face turn as red as he’d ever felt it turn, but she didn’t look back. She reached under the sheet and pulled off her bra and panties in two quick moves and checked them herself.

“They seem clear to me,” she said without turning to look at him. “You can check too if you’d like.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” he said gruffly.

This was unbelievable. He felt sixteen again. How had he ended up here? There was a tension in the room that was almost electric. Was he the only one who felt it, or did she feel it, too? It was probably best not to go there. He turned to leave the room without looking at her again.

“Wait,” she said. “Do you think I’m clear?”

Reluctantly, he made a half turn back but didn’t meet her gaze. “I didn’t find any sign of anything, so I guess you are.”

“Good. I’m glad. So now you don’t suspect me any longer?”

He turned all the way and looked right into her dark eyes. “I suspect everyone, Ayme. Don’t take it personally.”

She made a small movement meant to be a shrug but almost more of a twitch. “I’m trying not to. But it’s not easy.”

His gaze was caught in hers and he couldn’t seem to pull it away. There had been a quiver in her voice, a thread of emotion he couldn’t quite identify, and it had touched him somehow. Looking at her, he felt suddenly confused, not sure how to respond to her.

“Go ahead and get dressed,” he said gruffly as soon as he managed to turn away from her. Not looking her way again, he went through the doorway. “We’ll get going in just a minute.”

She didn’t answer and he went into the kitchen, poured himself a glass of cold water and gulped it down, then took in a deep breath and tried to rationalize away what he’d just done.

It wasn’t what it seemed, of course. How could it be? He didn’t do things like that. His over-the-top reaction to her body was just a symptom of everything else going on around them—the muted fear, the preparations for running, the memories of his own tragic past. Just natural heightened apprehension. Hardly unusual. Nothing to be alarmed about.

She was just a girl.

Relieved and resolute, he went back into his more normal confident action state and returned to the bedroom with a spring in his step. Luckily, she appeared dressed and ready to go and when he looked into her face, there was nothing special there—no regrets, no resentment, no special emotions making him uncomfortable.

“Come on. We’ve got to get out of here.” He slung his overnight bag over his shoulder and reached for the baby. “I’ll get Cici. You bring your bags, okay?”

He led the way to the back steps, avoiding the elevator. It was a long, long climb down, but eventually they hit the ground floor, made their way to the parking garage and found his little racy sports car. He made Ayme and the baby wait against a far wall while he prepared for departure.

He’d done everything right. He’d switched out the license plates on the car. He’d checked under the hood and along the undercarriage for explosives. But even so, he winced as he started the engine with the remote, relieved when nothing went “boom.”

Another day, another risky move, he thought to himself as he helped Ayme into the car and began packing baby supplies away in all the nooks and crannies. One of these times the click from the starter just might be the last thing he ever heard.

Now the next dilemma—should he head for a big city where they could get lost in the crowd, or for the countryside where no one would ever think to look? For once he chose the country.

But that was still a long way away. First, he headed into a direction directly opposed to where he actually wanted to go. After an hour of driving, he pulled into a protected area and hustled Ayme and Cici out of the car with all their belongings. Then he hailed a cab and they went in a totally different direction, stopping at a garage where he had arranged for another of his cars to be stored. This car was a complete contrast to his usual transportation, small and boxy and not eye-catching at all.

Ayme carefully maintained a pleasant expression. She didn’t want to be a whiner. But she couldn’t resist, as they squeezed into the small, cramped car, saying “I like the sports car better.”

“So do I, believe me,” he told her. “This is my incognito car.”

“I can see why. You could probably join the Rose Parade unnoticed in this thing.”

Glancing sideways, he threw her a quick smile that had actual warmth and humor in it, and she tingled a bit in response. It was nice to know he could do that. She’d been worried that he might be all scowls and furled brows with very little room for fun. But it looked like there was hope. It might not be all sex appeal with him.

She smiled to herself, enjoying her own little joke. She would love to tease him but she didn’t quite dare, not yet. If he was right, they were running from danger here. Not a time for light-hearted humor.

Danger. She frowned out the window at the passing buildings. She wished she knew a little more about this “danger” element. Who was this dangerous person and why was he after David?

For just a moment, her mind went back to what had happened in the bedroom just before they left David’s apartment. The way her pulse had surged in response to a few hot looks from the man was all the danger she could deal with right now. Clear and present danger. That’s what he represented to a girl like she was.

Woman, she corrected herself silently. You’re a woman, darn it. So act like one!

“You might as well relax,” he said, glancing her way again. “It’ll be a few hours before we get to our destination.”

“I’m relaxed,” she claimed. “Don’t worry about me.”

“Why don’t you try to get some sleep while Cici is taking her nap?”

It was a sensible suggestion, but she wasn’t in a sensible mood. Despite her bone-aching weariness, she was too full of adrenaline to sleep now.

“But I’ll miss the sightseeing,” she told him. “I want to see the countryside.”

He glanced out at the gaunt, charred-looking buildings they were passing. “We’re not going through a lot of countryside right now. More like an industrial wasteland.”

She nodded, her eyes big as she peered out at everything, trying to take it all in. “I noticed that.”

“Our route is circuitous and it’s not going to take us through many of the nicest parts of England I’m afraid. I’m trying to keep it low key and stay away from places where I might see someone I know.”

“It’s smokestack city so far,” she noted wistfully. “Oh, well. Maybe I will try to sleep a little.”

“The views will be better in an hour or so,” he promised.

“Okay.” She snuggled down into the seat, closed her eyes and went out like a light.

He noted that with a sense of relief. As long as she slept, she couldn’t ask questions.

He really had mixed feelings about Ayme. Why had he brought her along, anyway? He’d almost left her behind and it probably would have been the reasonable thing to do. But he felt a strange sense of responsibility toward her and of course he wanted to make sure that she was protected.

On the other hand, she probably wasn’t going to thank him in the end for dragging her along on this wild-goose chase. She would be better off in a nice hotel in a touristy part of town where she could while away her time shopping or sightseeing or whatever. At the same time, he would have been free to slip in and out of various cities and countries without having to adjust for a baby. After a day hauling a child all over the landscape, she might be ready to accept a solution such as that.

It was a tempting proposition, but there was a major flaw in his thinking and it came to him pretty quickly. Someone out there in the world was fathering babies under his name. This was not helpful to the world situation or even to his own peace of mind. He had to find out who it was and he had to get it stopped. Until he’d managed that, it might be best to keep tabs on the young woman who’d dumped this particular problem in his lap.

Well, that was hardly fair. The problem had been there all the time. He just hadn’t been aware of it until she’d arrived on his doorstep carrying the evidence.

But when you came right down to it, all that might be an excuse to keep her around, just because he liked looking at her. He glanced down at her. She was super adorable when she slept.

He had never been one to be bowled over by a pretty face. After all, there were so many pretty faces and he’d had his share of romantic adventures back when he was indulging in that sort of thing. He wasn’t going to let a little fatal attraction get in the way of his plans.

He was hardheaded and pragmatic, as he had to be if he and his brother were going to succeed in getting their country back. Romance wouldn’t work in times like these, and even a casual flirtation could cloud a man’s mind and get in the way of the goal. What he and his brother planned to do was going to be hard, perilous and very possibly fatal.

Relationships were out. Period.

He wondered, and not for the first time, what Monte would think of what he was doing. He wanted to call him but this wasn’t the place—nor the time. He had to be somewhere secure. Later—once they found a place near the coast to stay for the night, he would find a way to contact his brother.

She slept for two hours and then woke, stretching like a kitten and looking up at him as though she were surprised to see him.

“Hi,” she said. “You’re still here.”

“Where would I go?” he asked, half amused.

She shrugged. “Since my life became a bad dream, I expect dreamlike things to happen all the time. Maybe a Mad Hatter at the wheel, or at the very least, an angry hedgehog.”

“It’s a dormouse,” he muttered, making way for another car to merge onto the roadway in front of him.

“All right, an angry dormouse.” She smiled, amused that he would know the finer points of the Alice in Wonderland story. “So you’re neither?”

“Nope. But I have been accused of White Rabbit tendencies in the past.” He gave her a sideways grin. “Always late for that important date.”

“Ah.” She nodded wisely. “Annoying trait, that.”

“Yes. They say habitual lateness is a form of selfishness, but I think it’s something else entirely.”

“Like what?” She was curious since she was always late for everything herself and would like to find a good new excuse for it.

But he never got to the point of telling her. Cici intervened with a long, loud demand for attention from the backseat.

“Wow, she’s hungry,” Ayme noted, going up on her knees to tend to her over the back of the seat. She pulled a bottle of formula out of the baby bag, regretting that she couldn’t warm it. But Cici wasn’t picky at the moment. She sucked on the liquid as though someone had been starving her.

“Don’t feel like the Lone Ranger, little girl,” Ayme cooed at her. “There’s a lot of that hunger thing going around.”

“Subtle hint,” he commented.

“I can get less subtle if it bothers you,” she said, flicking a smile his way. “Do we have any food with us at all?”

“Not that I know of.”

“Oh.” His answer was disappointing, but pretty much what she’d expected. “Are we planning to rectify that anytime soon?” she asked, trying to be diplomatic about it.

He grunted. “I guess we could stop when we see something promising.”

“Good. You don’t want me to start wailing away like Cici does. It wouldn’t be pretty.”

She spent the next ten minutes feeding the baby, then pulled her up awkwardly and tried to burp her. David noted the lack of grace in her efforts, but he didn’t say anything. She would learn, he figured. Either that, or she would find Cici’s father and head back to Texas, free of burdens and swearing off children for all time. It seemed to be one of those either-or deals.

“We need a real car seat for her,” he said as Ayme settled her back into the backseat. “If we get stopped by the police, this makeshift bed won’t cut it. We’ll probably both get carted away for child endangerment.”

She plunked herself back into her seat and fastened the seat belt, then tensed, waiting for the inevitable complaints from the back. After a moment she began to relax. To her surprise, Cici wasn’t crying. What a relief!

“When I was young,” she told David, “my father would put me in a wash basket and strap me to the seat and carry me all over the Texas Panhandle on his daily route.”

“Those were the days when you could do things like that.” He nodded with regret. “Those days are gone.”

“Pity.”

He almost smiled thinking of her as a young sprout, peering over the edge of the basket at the world.

“What did he do on his route. Salesman?”

“No, he was a supervisor for the Department of Agriculture. He checked out crops and stuff. Gave advice.” She smiled, remembering.

“It was fun going along with him. My mother worked as a school secretary in those days, so my father was basically babysitting me and my sister.” She laughed softly. Memories.

“Sam’s basket was strapped right next to mine. As we got older, we got to play with a lot of great farm animals. Those were the best days.” She sighed. “I always liked animals more than people, anyway.”