Dana Marton

Saved by the Monarch


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forward and bumped into a table, thought about Chancellor Hansen. Worry filled him for the old man. There’d been a gunfight after he and Judi had been thrust into the van. He wondered how the chancellor had fared.

      “Why did they bring us here?” she was asking.

      He wasn’t sure he should tell her. But the fact was, she was here now, her life in jeopardy because of him. She deserved to know. He finally reached a wall and moved alongside it, turned his back to feel for a window with his tied hands.

      “I was informed this morning that there’s an assassination plot against my brother, the crown prince.” As if Arpad hadn’t had a rough-enough month already. His chopper had nearly gone down two weeks before, due to malfunction. He’d been on his way to a ceremonial troop inspection. He was lucky he was still alive.

      In hindsight, fresh suspicion arose that the accident could have been planned. But no, a special investigative team had gone over every last screw of the chopper after the incident. Miklos had read their report. Thoroughly.

      “I’m in the army. Of the six princes, I’m the most involved with security. Could be whoever is behind the plot wants me out of the way so it’d be easier for him to get to Arpad.”

      A long silence followed his response. Then, “Why am I here?”

      “You were in the wrong place at the wrong time,” he said with regret.

      “Funny, but I’ve had that feeling ever since the plane landed,” she said in a droll tone.

      The corner of his mouth twitched up. Her sense of humor was refreshing. And she stayed relatively composed under duress. She hadn’t become hysterical at any point during the kidnapping—another trait that might come in handy for a future princess. Which she refused to consider, and for a split second he wondered if he could afford to let that whole issue drop. He hadn’t really wanted a bride. He wanted a reluctant bride even less.

      And she was nothing like the duty-bound daughters of the Valtrian aristocracy. Whoever he married wouldn’t simply be his wife—she would be a princess of the country. She would have endless duties and responsibilities. And she would be expected to fulfill every last one of them. She would be expected to make sacrifices for the people.

      If he were the only other person involved, he would have been willing to respect her explicitly worded wishes in the matter. But their union went beyond him; it involved the whole country. And despite some misgivings on his part, he couldn’t give up his hopes for their grand peacemaking alliance. The country needed that.

      “I’m truly sorry that your introduction to Valtria is like this. It’s a wonderful country. I wish your arrival could have been different.”

      “You and me both,” she groused, then asked, “Why do the people want the crown prince dead?”

      “Not the people. Some people. Three businessmen in particular.” The three men who led the so-called Freedom Council. “We have three major ethnic groups in the country: Italian, Hungarian and Austrian. There are some businessmen who would like to destroy the monarchy, divide the country along those ethnic lines and make their own republics.” How little she knew about the country was truly disappointing.

      “Which would be led by these powerful men?”

      At least she was catching on quickly. “Right. Each would have a small republic. They could then rewrite the laws to suit their best interests, anything.”

      “Why?”

      “More power. More money. When Arpad takes over, he’s changing the country to a constitutional monarchy. Already, preparations are being made. The next step after that is joining the European Union. That will change everything. Not all EU regulations will be favorable for all current Valtrian business practices.

      “The bottom line is, for the Freedom Council the time is now or never. It’s easier to take out the royal family now and gain control of the country than try to take out a whole parliament once constitutional monarchy gets here.”

      “Don’t the people understand that they’re being manipulated?”

      “There’s a lot of propaganda out there right now to create tension along ethnic lines. That’s all people see.” He felt such regret over that, and wondered if, not having grown up in Valtria, Judi could understand.

      “For as long as I can remember, we were simply Valtrian,” he explained. “Now everyone is seeing themselves as Italian or Hungarian or Austrian, and centuryold grievances are being dredged up.”

      “The whole divide-and-conquer thing. And political instability brings economic instability, of course,” she added.

      So she did get it. He went on, encouraged. “The economy is suffering already. And the Freedom Council is doing its best to convince the people that it’s because the upkeep of monarchy is too expensive.”

      “You’ve said Freedom Council more than once. What is it?”

      “That’s what the rebel leaders are calling themselves. Pretty ironic, actually. Under their mercenary government, the people would be anything but free.”

      She remained silent for minutes. “I wish I knew more about Valtria.”

      “How much were you told of our history?”

      “My father used to talk to me about it. But he died and—I was too young to remember.”

      “And your aunt Viola?”

      “For the most part, she just tried to convince me to move back here. Gently,” she added. “She doesn’t like to say things she knows I don’t want to hear.”

      He rolled his eyes beneath the blindfold.

      Then he turned his head toward the door when he heard it open.

      Something clanged to the floor.

      The door closed again.

      “What do you think that was?” she asked.

      “Food.” He hoped.

      And got a sudden idea just as she asked, “What are we going to do?”

      “Escape,” he answered. “But we’ll have to get the blindfolds off first.” He moved toward her. “Keep talking so I can figure out where exactly you are. Just say something. Anything.”

      “For my thirtieth birthday I decided to visit the country of my ancestors and discover my heritage. At the airport I was kidnapped by a deranged prince—”

      “Greeted by an eager groom,” he corrected as his head bumped into hers.

      “Then I was kidnapped by other deranged men,” she finished.

      “What, that wasn’t in the brochure?” He made an attempt to lighten the mood between them. “People pay extra for extreme vacations like that.”

      Then his lips were on her cheeks, her skin silky soft. And they both fell silent.

      He ignored the heat that flashed through him and zipped straight to his groin. He moved his mouth up to the blindfold, grabbed the material with his teeth, breathing in her exotic flower scent. She held herself ramrod straight.

      “Relax. I’m not trying to seduce you.” And just for the hell of it, he added, “Yet.”

      But he could envision it in crystal-clear detail all of a sudden. Her tangled up in his sheets. Naked. Under him.

      “I don’t want you to confuse me with those women who throw themselves at the feet of handsome princes.”

      Disappointingly, her voice held no trace of passion. Instead, he got the distinct impression that she was mocking him.

      “You’re in no danger of that.” He pulled the blindfold off all the way at last. “Your turn,” he said, waiting impatiently to see again.

      A moment passed before he could feel her