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  “Ew, I hope not in the bed I’m sleeping in,” Evelyn had replied.

  “Who said anything about using a bed? He looks like the type to just pick a girl up and have his way with her right against the wall. Did you see how he was holding her and looking at her? Pure, unadulterated lust, I tell you.”

  “You think so?” Gary had said when he’d interrupted their conversation. “I was hoping we were doing the dance correctly. From your comments, I take it that we were.”

  “Oh, well, we weren’t gossiping about you and the princess or anything like that,” Evelyn had hurried to say. “Sylvia just meant that the two of you looked so good on the dance floor. So realistic.”

  “Evelyn’s right,” Sylvia’d chimed in, not appearing the least bit apologetic. “You looked as if you two knew each other’s bodies and the moves of that dance personally. Anybody watching would draw the same conclusion.”

  Gary doubted that, but it had felt good to let the women know he was well aware of what they thought about him and Samantha. He had left them with a warning about spreading lies. “You’re too pretty to have your nose growing longer because you can’t separate fact from fiction.”

  Evelyn had looked embarrassed but smiled, anyway. Sylvia had looked devious and hadn’t bothered to hide the fact.

  Now it was Sylvia who was complaining as she’d begun to walk toward Samantha. But Malayka stopped her friend and continued to approach the princess herself.

  Gary, who had been standing a few steps to the left behind Samantha, moved in closer to eavesdrop.

  “How much longer is this going to take?” Malayka asked. “And why are you showing us war things? I want them to see how pretty the island is, not hear about a violent past.”

  “Our past is the reason for our present,” Samantha replied diplomatically.

  Gary wanted to applaud her for taking the high road when she could’ve so easily responded another way.

  “Whatever,” Malayka quipped. “Let’s just get on with this. And when we get down to the beach, let me do the talking. The TV people will want to hear about the beach being a good location for wedding ceremonies and such.”

  “I don’t think now is the right time for that,” Samantha told her. “We should keep this outing about the history. Tourists find that interesting in addition to just going for how a place looks.”

  Malayka chuckled. “Who are you kidding? That’s just nonsense. But I should have known, especially since you’ve never planned a wedding. I’ll take it from here.”

  Malayka turned back to face the crowd. She was about to speak when the first shot rang out. It exploded against the corner of the tower, directly above Samantha’s head. Gary reacted instantly, throwing his body over hers as he yelled, “Get down!”

  CHAPTER 7

  Her hands were shaking as she gripped the sides of the soaker tub and lowered her body into the steaming, fragrantly bubbled water. When she was seated, Sam lay back in an even slower motion until her neck rested on the lip of the tub. She closed her eyes and tried to block out everything.

  The gunshots.

  The shattering rock.

  The screams.

  Gary’s full body on top of hers.

  Her eyes shot open at her last thought. Clearly keeping them closed wasn’t working, anyway. She rubbed her hands down her face then pushed back the tendrils of hair that had escaped the tight high ponytail she’d made when she’d finally closed herself in her rooms.

  Gary had picked her up off the ground and run to one of the parked cars. He had her in the backseat and was yelling at Phillipe to drive within seconds of the last shot. Twenty minutes later they were at the palace. Kris and Roland were both at the front doors when they came in. Salvin, the chief of guards, was also there, four other guards standing with him.

  “I’m fine,” she’d said immediately upon walking into the foyer.

  It had been the third time she’d said it in the last few minutes. It had apparently taken more than one time for Gary to understand and not scoop her into his arms again. That whole “being carried away” scene made her uncomfortable. Not as uncomfortable as being shot at, but still. She’d decided to deal with the things she could and, at the time, that was appeasable for her.

  Dammit.

  “What the hell happened?” Ro had asked before grabbing her into a tight hug.

  Sam had accepted the hug because, of course, her brothers would be concerned about her. But she’d pushed back from the embrace when it had lasted too long and she’d felt the dam inside her threaten to break free.

  “Shooter,” Gary was saying from behind her. “The entire area was checked a half hour before we arrived. Then the extra guard that rode in each car got out and checked again before the tour began.”

  Kris hugged her, rubbing his hand down the back of her head as he pulled back and stared at her as if his questioning gaze was going to solicit a different response.

  “I’m fine, Kris,” she had stated again. “Really.”

  He hadn’t believed her, but he had backed off, releasing her so that she could turn to face Gary.

  “Thanks,” she had told him, taking a breath because her legs were beginning to tremble. “Thank you for being there and for saving my life.”

  He was shaking his head before she could finish speaking.

  “No thanks necessary. I just want you to be safe,” he’d told her.

  Sam had been okay with that reply. Or, at least, she was going to have to be. The thought of arguing or debating at that moment was definitely going to be more than she could bear. No, she’d been wrong. In the next seconds, when Gary had stepped closer to her, he’d touched a hand to her shoulder. His next words, “I want you to be safe,” had tipped the scale on her tolerance.

  She had only been able to nod in reply before turning and taking the marble steps as quickly as she could without falling on her face and creating even more of a spectacle. There’d been enough eyes on her for one day, enough thoughts and glares and judgments. She hadn’t been in the mood for any more.

  Now she was in the tub, closed in her prettily decorated lavender, gray and white bathroom. Vanilla-scented candles were burning, the lights were turned down low and she was relaxing—or, at least, she was trying to relax. Only, her shoulders were still tight, her neck ached and, dammit, she could not stop shaking.

  Every part of her body was shaking now. Her fingers, her arms, her legs, her toes. Even her head was moving as she uselessly fought back tears. She bit her bottom lip and resisted the urge to sob. She wasn’t a baby. Yes, she’d been shot at, but she was still living, still breathing. She should just be grateful and…

  More tears came and now her teeth were chattering. Her shoulders jerked and before she could think of how to stop it, a sob broke free.

  The shots had been so loud and people had been screaming. Gerard may have been screaming the loudest. When she’d caught sight of him, he was lying on his stomach, arms folded over his head, crying like a child. Sam hurriedly used her hands to wipe the tears from her face. She took several deep breaths, releasing them very slowly so as to calm her racing heart. It worked, sort of, and the tears finally ceased.

  “Okay, get it together, Sammy,” she chided herself. “There’s someone trying to kill your family. That’s not a surprise.”

  No. It wasn’t a surprise, she answered herself, but it wasn’t a cheerful thought, either.

  “At least he was there to save you,” she continued. “Again.”

  “He” was Gary, of course. And, yes, he’d saved her. He’d pushed her to the ground with his body and lay there until the shots stopped. His broad shoulders and muscled chest were easily wider than the width of her body, which meant he’d completely covered her. His body was on top of every part of hers.

  Sam shivered, even tho
ugh the water was hot against her skin.

  He’d been standing behind her the entire time she’d talked to the group. Just as he’d sat next to her during lunch and he’d danced with her during the lessons. Boy, had he danced with her. The memory had Sam flushing.

  It was silly. All of this was just plain ridiculous. She’d seen Gary around the palace for the last two months but until the other day she hadn’t even known his name or why he was there. Yet she’d kissed him twice and today they’d danced as if a night of hot steamy sex was definitely in their future.

  It wasn’t just silly. It was impossible.

  She was attracted to him.

  Very attracted to him.

  That was a problem because Sam hadn’t been this attracted to a man since her college years in Paris. Kris had gone to the United States for college and Roland had opted to join the Royal Seaside Navy. Sam had flown to Paris on a fashion scholarship she’d been awarded just because of who she was.

  Since she was a little girl there had been agents approaching her father about the possibility of her entering into modeling or beauty pageants. Sam had never been interested in either. Both occupations would put her in the public eye much more than she actually wanted to be. Sure, as Grand Serenity’s goodwill ambassador she was still in the public, but that was her duty. It was her birthright and there was nothing she could do about performing the job her mother had left vacant.

  Accepting the scholarship had been Sam’s way of getting off the island and finally having time to just be a young woman and not a princess or a goodwill ambassador. She’d enjoyed that time even if the curriculum was less than she’d desired. And then she’d come home to do what was expected of her.

  She always did what was expected.

  Her eyes closed again and this time her internal body temperature was foremost in her mind. She felt just as she had when she’d been dancing with Gary. Hot. Agitated. Aroused.

  “That’s it,” she said with a sigh.

  Last night she was restless. Yesterday and today she was irritable. Now, even after she’d had a near-death experience and fretting over the life that she’d had no choice in, she knew what the real problem was.

  She was horny.

  That was probably unacceptable for a lady, especially a princess. But it was just that. Sam recognized the tugging in her center and the swelling of her breasts. She should have known when the night of the council dinner she’d been so eager to run across that room and kiss a man. At that moment she’d thought it was just some man she’d seen around the palace. She definitely should have known better because she’d enjoyed that kiss way too much.

  Now she was jittery and emotional and in desperate need of release. She was clearly in the desire stage of sexual pleasure. And if anyone ever heard her say such a thing aloud they’d likely think she’d lost her mind. But she hadn’t. Sam knew her body well. She’d taken the time to get to know it’s every warning and signal. That was her right and her decision to make.

  Knowing her own body and being able to give it what it needed was the best solution for the life she had to lead. Love and relationships weren’t in the cards because there was no way she could ever trust a man to want her and only her. Not the title. Not the money. Not the recognition. Only her.

  She’d learned that lesson the hard and painful way when her three-month relationship with Miguel Lopata was publicized on the front page of a Parisian tabloid with pictures of them necking on the couch in his apartment. Miguel had sold those pictures and the story of their romantic affair. He’d also taught her a very valuable lesson that Sam had carried with her ever since.

  With her eyes still closed she moved her now steadier hand to her breast and massaged slowly. Her body instantly reacted as her breast seemed heavier than usual, and her breath quickened. Sam knew this part well and continued without any further recriminations. She would feel better afterward, much better, and then she could deal with the other issues swirling around in her life. She just needed this little bit of leverage. Damn, she needed it.

  Her other arm slipped from the side of the tub, her hand skimming down her torso until she felt the short curls of pubic hair. In seconds she was touching herself, pleasuring herself. The sound of her moans echoed in the bathroom. Her mind went void of anything but the pleasure; the moment she would reach that precipice and soar higher than she had the last time she’d done this. Each time she aimed higher, needed more, because this, right here, was all she had in her life. It was all that she would ever have.

  When her legs trembled, her teeth bit into her bottom lip and her body vibrated with each spine-tingling muscle spasm that pulsated through her. She moaned slower this time, louder and longer as she rode that glorious wave.

  It took a few minutes before her breathing returned to normal and, when it did, so did everything else.

  “Damn!”

  Sam cursed herself and felt deflated at her inability to meet her own challenge. She hadn’t soared higher. She didn’t feel much better than she had before. She was still worried and still afraid and, dammit all, still aroused.

  * * *

  Gary was mad as hell.

  He’d been in Kris’s office for the past hour going over everything that happened that day. It all ended with the shots being fired, just barely missing Samantha’s head.

  “The guards combed that entire area but didn’t find anyone,” Kris reported after hanging up the phone on the edge of his desk.

  “This is bullshit!” Roland raged. “Now she has somebody shooting at us? How much more of this are we going to take without doing something?”

  “We don’t know for certain that Malayka is connected to this,” Kris stated evenly. “I know we’re all thinking it, but we have to have something more concrete than just our dislike of her before we go to Dad. And, yes, we have to go to him first, before we even think about slapping cuffs on the woman he’s planning to marry.”

  Gary had been sitting in one of the guest chairs across from Kris’s desk. He’d only sat because when he was standing he paced the floor like a lion stalking its cage. He definitely wanted out. He wanted to track down the shooter himself and strangle the bastard. He’d much rather have his own rifle and scope. He’d watch that fool for hours, making sure he felt perfectly safe before Gary finally pulled the trigger, killing the son of a bitch.

  Yes, he wanted him dead, even though Gary knew Kris would prefer him to be alive for questioning. Gary was beyond that point. The second he’d watched that bullet pierce the stone wall just inches above Samantha’s head, he’d known the capture-and-question part of this job was over. For him, anyway.

  Unfortunately, however, Kris was right in what he’d just said to Roland. They still had no evidence that Malayka was involved.

  “As a matter of fact, she was standing pretty close to Samantha when the first shot rang out. A few inches to the left and she could have caught the bullet. I doubt she’s in on her own murder plot,” Gary told them.

  His elbows were planted on his thighs and he’d been holding his head down, staring at the floor as he tried to gain some semblance of control before speaking to the princess. His control wasn’t really cooperating but Gary knew he had to add his comments to their conversation.

  “So you’re saying the bullet could have been meant for Malayka?” Roland asked. “I’m not buying that for one minute.”

  Gary was shaking his head as he sat back in the chair. “I’m not trying to sell that,” he replied. “I’m just stating the facts. Malayka was standing right there. So if she were in on the plot to kill one or all of you, why would whoever she’s in cahoots with have fired a shot that could have easily taken her out instead?”

  “He’s right,” Kris stated. “It doesn’t add up.”

  “None of this adds up!” Roland continued. “Dad wants to act like its some political s
trike against us, but Sam swears we have no enemies on the political front. You think it might be someone who’s banking with us because of the break-in at the bank just before the explosion. But even that investigation hasn’t turned up any leads. So what are we supposed to do now, just sit here and wait until whoever these people are finally get it right and kill us all?”

  “No,” Gary said as he stood. “We’re not going to wait. Not anymore. It’s time to put more pressure on the prisoners and get some real answers out of them. If they still won’t talk, we go to the next best source. Their family members. Find the people that are closest to them and see what they know, who they know. That’s how we’ll start to connect the dots and, as soon as we get a target, I’m taking him out.”

  Gary didn’t wait for any agreement or rebuttal. He turned and headed for the door. There was something he needed to do, something more urgent than sitting there talking about a plan that needed to be put into effect ASAP.

  * * *

  Gary approached Samantha’s room with the cautious steps of his former profession. He kind of felt like he was stalking his prey the moment he’d decided to climb the stairs to see her.

  Logic and reasoning said he should have gone back to his room to go over his notes about all the players in the palace situation. He should make some calls to find out more about the two men sitting in the Grand Serenity jailhouse. They were the key. He knew that without a doubt. One of them knew exactly what the endgame to this little plan was and if Gary just applied more pressure, if he used some of his military training, he was certain he could break them.

  Yet, that’s not what he’d done.

  He probably should not have walked out of the meeting with Kris and Roland, either. For all intents and purposes they were his employers, even though Gary had refused Kris’s offer of monetary reimbursement. Roland wanted to take action. Gary could definitely understand that and he respected the fellow military man for his quick thoughts and plans for immediate action. At the same time, Gary also knew the logic in what Kris was saying. They had to be sure that when they acted, there would be no mistakes because their father’s happiness was at stake. No, that wasn’t more important than their lives; Gary, of course, understood that, as well. But it was important to each of them.