“Shall I make an announcement over the speaker system?”
Pellea looked pained. “Oh, Kayla, you’ve been in Paris all this time and you don’t know how things have been. This guy is driving me crazy.”
Kayla held back a grin. That was Max. He drove everyone crazy.
“He’ll settle down,” she told the queen without really believing it herself. “Once he understands the way we do things.”
“The more he understands, the more he flouts the rules. You’re going to have to go out and track him down.”
Pellea made a sound of angry impatience and tossed her head in frustration. She was wearing a spectacular gown—deep blue silk threaded with gold, strapless, form-fitting, with a skirt cut to move sinuously as she danced…or walked. Kayla felt frumpy in her simple skirt and sweater.
“And I hope you’re prepared to kill him when you find him,” Pellea said dramatically.
“Your Majesty,” Kayla began, beginning to give in to a touch of anxiety. She was trying to think of a new excuse for him on the fly—but something that wouldn’t get her fired. The queen did have her emotional moments.
“Don’t.” Pellea held up a hand like a crossing guard. “I don’t want to hear any tales of woe. I don’t want to hear explanations and confessions. All I want is Prince Maximillian here where I can punish him.” She shivered with what looked like anticipation. “Or his head on a platter. That would do.” Her dark eyes flashed. “Do you understand?”
Kayla nodded. Despite everything, she was working hard to suppress a grin. She didn’t dare let it show. Pellea was so angry.
The trouble was, she knew very well that the Max she had known was sure to make Pellea even angrier as time went by. There was nothing she could do to avoid it.
“Yes, Your Majesty. I’ll do my best.”
“Just find him!”
Queen Pellea swept out like the storm she could sometimes resemble. Kayla took a deep breath and steadied herself. What now? How was she supposed to find a rebel prince who obviously didn’t want to be found?
It was always this way with Max. Rules were made for other people, not for him. He was easily the most infuriating—and the most charming—man she’d ever known. Just the thought that she would see him again any moment gave her a thrill that was electric. But it also gave her a dull, pounding headache. How was she going to work this? Heaven only knew.
She started by making a few phone calls. There were guards everywhere and security officers working the monitors at special locations. If he was in the castle, someone must have seen him. And some had. She got a lead here and there, and finally, an actual sighting from a hall guard who’d seen him disappear into the apartment of a local girl who was well-known for partying.
“Of course,” Kayla muttered acidly. “I should have known.”
She started off toward the place like a rocket, but deep in her heart, she dreaded the whole confrontation ahead of her. What was she going to do once she got to the door? Barge in on a seduction? She shuddered as she punched in the floor designation on the elevator panel.
“Darn you, Max,” she whispered. “Do you always have to make life so hard?”
She thought about the last time she’d seen him, almost two years ago, his thick, bronzed hair disheveled, his eyes bleary with pain. Emotional pain. They’d both been in agony that night, both mourning over the same tragedy. The next thing she’d known, he was gone.
The elevator doors slid open silently and she stepped off, heart beating, head aching. It was only a few steps to the doorway. She stood in front of it, wishing she were anywhere else. Her phone buzzed and she pulled it open. It was Pellea, of course.
“Yes?”
“Have you found him yet?”
She sighed. “I’ve got his location. I’m about to go in and see….”
“Watch him,” Pellea warned. “If there’s a balcony, he’ll jump.”
Kayla gasped. “You don’t think he’s suicidal, do you?”
“Oh, heavens no. He defies death for the fun of it. I swear he’s got to be an adrenaline freak.”
Kayla considered that seriously. “You know…” she began.
But Pellea wasn’t waiting to hear other views.
“Last week, we had a gathering of the new princes at the ski chalet, a meeting for them to get to know each other better. We’d barely begun cocktails when Max and the chalet manager’s two beautiful daughters took off on snowmobiles, racing off into the mountains as though it were nothing more than a free snow day. And they didn’t come back.”
“Oh.”
“No excuses the next day, of course. He thinks his smile covers all bases.”
“I see,” she said for lack of anything cogent to add. She felt a little lost with the queen battering her with complaints like this. A part of her wanted to defend him, but how did you defend behavior like this?
“Last night it was dinner with the Italian ambassador. We’re about to sign an important treaty with them. He didn’t show. And what was the excuse? He’d stopped in at a pub and got involved in judging a karaoke contest and lost track of time.”
“Oh, Max,” Kayla said in soft despair.
“So I say, watch the balcony. He’ll tie a rope to the edge and pretend he’s Tarzan. Don’t let him get away.”
“I won’t.” She only wished her determination was as stout as it sounded.
Pellea sighed. Maybe her tone hadn’t been convincing. “Give me your exact location. I sent a couple of security officers up to help you. I’ll key in directions for them.”
That startled her. “Help me do what?” she asked after giving the queen her location.
“Make sure he doesn’t escape. We’ll tie him up and drag him in if we have to.”
“We will?” She knew Max and she was pretty sure that wasn’t going to be done easily. This whole thing was beginning to resemble a nightmare. She stared at the door to the target apartment. Max was supposedly in there. They’d told her he’d gone in with a woman. Did the phrase love nest come to mind? This wasn’t the way she’d imagined their reunion might pan out.
“Now I want you to be forceful,” Pellea encouraged. “You must take him by surprise.”
Kayla gasped in horror as a picture of what that might mean spun through her head. “You mean … burst in on him without warning?”
“If you have to. Whatever you do, you’ve got to stop him from disappearing again. Call me when it’s over.”
“Yes, Your Majesty. Of course.” She hung up just as two security guards stepped off the elevator and marched over to join her.
“Sgt. Marander, ma’am, at your service,” the one who seemed to be in charge announced. “Here’s the master key. We’re here to back you up. We’ll be right behind you.”
She chewed on her lower lip. “Can I knock first?” she asked, rather forlorn.
His stare was steely cold. “I’m afraid not. Her Majesty specifically recommended a surprise attack. She’s afraid he’ll …”
“Escape by jumping off the balcony. Yes, she told me as much.”
He glanced at her and frowned. He probably heard the reluctance in her voice and didn’t approve. “Sorry, miss. Instructions from the queen are not to be taken lightly.”
She took a deep breath. “All right,” she said, straightening