Romancing the Crown: Nina & Dominic. Lyn Stone

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clicking on the beautifully veined marble. She had made it halfway there when a large hand closed around her arm. Oddly enough, it did not surprise her all that much to find herself staring into the furious blue-gray eyes of Ryan McDonough.

      After all, the possibility of running into him was the reason she was in such a hurry. If only she hadn’t taken the time to interview those two guards, she might have made it upstairs to the residential wing before he finished his business in the royal office. Without a doubt he would object to what she was doing just because it was her idea and not his.

      His long, strong fingers burned right through the sleeve of her beige linen suit. Every time he touched her, apprehension swept through her like fire in her veins. Not that he frightened her physically. Her own reaction to him as a man was what caused her fear. She worried what she might do if his touch gentled again as it had last night. No danger of that at the moment, she thought with a sigh. Right now he looked livid.

      Though he wasn’t hurting her, she knew better than to resist his grip. Maybe if she didn’t act as guilty as she felt, he wouldn’t frog-march her out of here like a prisoner. Nina smiled her friendliest smile. “I take it the audience with the king is over?”

      “What the hell are you doing here?” His voice, though he kept it low, seemed to echo in the cavernous entry.

      Nina knew he was about to read her the riot act for leaving the lab when he’d ordered her to stay put. She decided to brave it out rather than cower. “Asking questions. Something you—” she accused, poking him in the chest “—have obviously been neglecting to do around here!”

      He grabbed her finger and removed it from the indentation her nail had made in his tie. “And how would you know what I’ve done or not done?”

      “I asked!” she hissed. “The two people I’ve spoken with already were very eager to help. I’m on my way to request an interview with the princesses’ staff.”

      “Oh, no you’re not,” Ryan assured her. “Even you have to observe protocol.”

      He started for the main entrance, still clutching her upper arm. She had no choice but to follow or be dragged. “So make an appointment!”

      “I have. Now shut up and come on!”

      “Where?” she demanded, taking two steps to his every one in order to keep up.

      “Out of here before you get yourself shot. How’d you get past the guards?”

      Nina hated to tell him, but she knew he wouldn’t let it go. He’d be reaming someone out about lack of security. “Well… I showed my ID, told them I was Desmond’s sister and, uh, that I had your permission.”

      “Damn,” he muttered, shaking his head. He glared at the nice young guards with the big holstered weapons and all but shoved Nina through the doors leading outside.

      He glanced around. “How did you get here? Taxi?”

      She nodded, almost tripping in her attempt to match his haste as he ushered her around the arts wing to the parking lot to his car.

      “How did you know I was here?”

      Her smile was smug. “Saw the number you left Franz. Public Affairs office, the same one I called after I arrived at the airport yesterday. You came here to see the king and get me kicked on a plane, didn’t you?”

      “Yes.”

      Only when they were out of the palace grounds and he was occupied driving through the noon day traffic did Nina risk a question. “So, what did the king have to say about it?”

      He shot her a dark glance, then trained his eyes on the street again. “Trust me, you don’t want to know.”

      Nina bridled. “Don’t be an ass, McDonough. Apparently it didn’t work, since you’re so mad.”

      “When do you collect on your brother’s insurance?”

      She frowned at the abrupt change of subject. “What?”

      “Have you made the claim yet?”

      Nina almost laughed. “You’ve got to be joking! There’s no insurance.”

      “A policy for half a million, all paid up, plus the capital in the trust fund that paid the premiums,” he snapped.

      She was astounded. “How could… But that couldn’t possibly… I know nothing about anything like that! Who—?”

      “Don’t play dumb, Nina. Your father insured you both and made certain the premiums were taken care of.”

      She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose, trying to ward off the headache that was rapidly growing to gigantic proportions behind her eyes. “I swear I didn’t know. There was nothing like that in Dad’s papers after he died.”

      “And I suppose you knew nothing about Desmond receiving half your father’s estate? Get real, Nina, you couldn’t help but know.” He scoffed.

      “Yes, of course I knew about that.”

      “And resented the hell out of it, I bet,” Ryan commented.

      “No,” she argued. “I didn’t resent it at all. Desmond sold the property he inherited, which he was perfectly entitled to do. I guess he spent all the money.”

      That got Ryan’s attention. He stopped at a red light and turned to face her. “What makes you think so?”

      Nina hesitated, but guessed it didn’t matter now what anyone thought of Des. Lots of people were not that great about managing their money. “He called a couple of weeks ago wanting to borrow a bit from me.”

      “A bit? How much?” Ryan asked, creeping ahead as the light turned and no longer pinning her with that laser glare.

      Nina shrugged. “Twenty thousand. He said he would repay me with interest when he received his next quarterly allowance from the crown.”

      “Good God.” Ryan coughed a laugh of obvious disbelief. “So you’re here for repayment? King Marcus won’t authorize you a nickel if your brother didn’t sign a note, and even then—”

      “No,” Nina interrupted the tirade, “I didn’t loan Desmond anything. My assets are mostly tied up in investments and CDs, so I didn’t have access to that much cash at the moment. Besides, I never make loans, especially not to friends or family. I believe it eventually causes bad feelings.” “You’re right. It really is very bad business to loan money unless you’re a bank. Why did he need it?”

      “He didn’t say. I told him I was sorry, that it wasn’t possible, and asked him if he was in trouble of some kind. He said no, of course he wasn’t.”

      “Was he angry? How did he react to your refusal?”

      Nina shrugged. “He said never mind, then goodbye and hung up.”

      “Nothing else? Did he ask how you were doing? Tell you anything about how things were going with him?”

      Nina felt embarrassed to

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