popped Adele gently on the nose. “I had made plans for us to meet some trusted friends for an intimate dinner tonight, but—”
“Don’t change your plans,” she told him. “I’ll be busy packing and preparing for my trip to Golnar.”
“Are you sure you don’t mind? If you’d rather I stay here with you, I’ll be more than glad to cancel.”
“I’ll be perfectly all right here,” she told him. “At least for tonight. I doubt that anyone on my father’s staff will be able to come up with the information about this estate in the next twenty-four hours. After all, the place still belongs to your cousin Jules, doesn’t it?”
“Yes, but how did you know the chateau wasn’t mine?”
“Because, Yves, my wicked friend, we both know that you have no money of your own and depend on relatives and wealthy older ladies to support you.”
Yves clutched his chest and groaned. “I have shared too many of my secrets with you, chère.”
“And I with you.”
Grinning, Yves lifted her hand and kissed it. “Then it is good that we trust each other, is it not?”
Dedrick rolled over in bed and stretched. The loud banging on the door had awakened him from a peaceful sleep. The voluptuous creature lying next to him roused, eased out of bed, slipped on a silk robe and headed for the door.
“Ask who it is,” Dedrick told Vanda. “I can’t have anyone finding me here.”
“Don’t worry,” Vanda said, a devilish smile on her pretty face. “You can hide under the covers.”
She cracked the door a fraction and peered through the opening. Before she could stop the man, he shoved the door open wide and knocked her aside as he entered her room at Madame Pellonia’s, the most exclusive brothel in all of Orlantha.
“You fool!” the man shouted at Dedrick. “What if someone sees you here? Then the whole world will know why the princess doesn’t want to marry you.”
Dedrick rose from the bed leisurely, totally unconcerned with his friend’s outrage. “You worry too much.”
The intruder glowered at Vanda. “Leave us!”
Vanda frowned and looked to Dedrick for instructions.
He waved a dismissal. “Go. Go.”
Vanda huffed, then stomped out of the room and slammed the door behind her.
Dedrick dressed, taking his time as his friend glared at him, his arms crossed over his chest.
“We must go to the palace immediately. The king has hired an American private detective to find the princess and return her to Orlantha. You should be at King Leopold’s side, showing your support and concern. If he becomes the least bit suspicious—”
“Ah, but that’s your job, isn’t it? To waylay any suspicions.”
“Princess Adele actually told her father that she believed you were a Royalist.”
Dedrick laughed. “I’m sure dear papa didn’t believe her. Why would anyone suspect me?”
“If your wedding to the princess is canceled, we will have no choice but to eliminate her and leave the king without an heir. We prefer to take over Orlantha by peaceful means. The Balanchine army is half the size of Orlantha’s army. Once you become the prince consort, you will wield great power and can put many of our people in strategic positions within the government. And in time we will see to it that you become king of both Orlantha and Balanchine.”
“I would hate to lose the chance for a wedding night with Adele. She’s such a delicious little creature.”
“Is that all you think about?”
“I think about many things,” Dedrick said. “I think that once I am king of both Orlantha and Balanchine, you will not speak to me in such a manner.”
“Once you are king, no, I will speak to you with due respect. But until that day—” the intruder grabbed Dedrick’s lapels and glared directly into his eyes “—I am in charge. You will do as I say. Is that understood?”
Dedrick took a deep breath, clutched the other man’s hands and removed them from his coat. “I understand perfectly.”
“Good. Then go to the palace and assure King Leopold that you adore Adele and want nothing more than to be her husband.”
Dedrick grinned. “What if this American detective can’t find Adele?”
“My sources tell me that his firm is the best in the business. He will find her. It seems the princess was spotted with Yves Jurgen in Paris yesterday. This detective’s agency is tracking her down as we speak. And when he leaves Orlantha to go after her, two of our men will follow him and make sure nothing goes wrong.”
Matt’s flight landed at the Vienna International Airport Holzbauer with only a twenty-minute delay. His rental car, a four-door silver Opel Omega, was ready and waiting for him. He’d spent enough time on airplanes these past few days to rack up quite a few frequent-flyer miles. Of course, Dundee picked up the tab for his flights, since all of them were work related. Ellen Denby, Dundee’s CEO, had shot to hell his plans for a week of R&R in Paris. She’d phoned him only hours after Worth Cordell had taken a flight out of Roissy Charles de Gaulle, winging his way home to the good old U.S.A. Ellen had pointed out to Matt that he was already in Europe, only a short flight from Orlantha, so it would be foolish to send another agent to take the assignment. He’d tried to beg off. He should have known better. Ellen wasn’t the type who could be persuaded or pressured; she was the type who expected her orders to be obeyed without question.
He had to admit that, even though he really hadn’t wanted this assignment, he was curious as to why the lovely Princess Adele had flown the coop only a month before her wedding. During his interview with King Leopold, His Majesty had cited a case of premarital jitters as the reason his daughter had run away. But after sizing up the situation—and meeting the Duke of Roswald—Matt had drawn his own conclusions. Dedrick Vardan was a horse’s ass. Pompous. Arrogant. Condescending. And come to think of it, the wannabe prince looked a bit like a horse. Or maybe more like a mule. But the guy sure knew how to play the king like a fiddle. And Lord Burhardt had sent cold chills up Matt’s spine. His gut instincts warned him that the man would be dangerous if crossed. Then there was Colonel Rickard, who seemed to resent the fact that he hadn’t been put in charge of returning the princess to the fold. The king had told Matt he wanted his daughter returned to the palace, and gave him permission to use whatever means necessary to bring her home.
After taking a look at faxed photos of Yves Jurgen that Dundee had sent, along with more information on the man than Matt actually needed, it was easy to see why the princess had run away from Dedrick and straight into Yves’s waiting arms. Hell, Yves Jurgen was a damn pretty boy, and from his “rap sheet” he knew everything there was to know about women—how to please them and keep them coming back for more. Matt’s guess was that Princess Adele had run away for one last fling with her former lover before tying the knot with old mule face.
It really didn’t matter to him why the princess had run away. She was nothing more than an assignment to him. Dundee contacts
