of the burly bodyguards pushed to the fore. “You will not speak to His Majesty in that tone.”
Without moving, Logan stared the man down. “Back off, Sergei. I’m in no mood to play protocol games. I said I’d arrange the meet.”
“And no one commands the King of Bellevaux,” the ruler snapped, his accent deepening. “My business cannot wait. I have less than two weeks to ensure my daughter doesn’t embarrass me or her country.”
Kat leaned against the bed, the king’s words swirling in her mind. Okay, the sedative might still be wreaking havoc in her system, but the royal invasion had been doing a fine job of clearing her head until that bizarre comment. Who was this guy’s daughter?
Logan’s voice turned lower and deadlier. “And I’m responsible for making sure Kat stays alive, which you don’t seem to care about since you kept her true identity from me until it was almost too late.”
The king’s face reddened. “You found her. I’m here to claim her. Now step away from my daughter!”
“Excuse me? I’m not an object, and I am definitely not your daughter.” Kat peered around Logan and tumbled over the side of the bed, landing in a heap. He knelt to help her, but she shoved him aside and stood, fighting the dizziness. “Logan, what’s going on? Who is this joker?” she asked, praying her head would stop pounding.
Her ex-lover turned, and she gasped at the tension in his jaw making his scar stand out in relief. Logan let out a stream of air. “He’s your father. King Leopold of Bellevaux. You are Princess Katherine, his only heir.”
No. This couldn’t be happening.
“That’s why you showed up out of nowhere this morning? For him?”
The truth flickered in Logan’s guilty gaze.
A fledgling hope that he’d come for her after all this time went up in flames as hot and deadly as the barn fire. More and more of the sedative’s effect faded. She turned away from Logan to stare at the stranger who was supposedly her father. King Leopold. Impossible. She felt no bond with him.
The man, wearing Armani, looked her up and down as if he were studying a filly to purchase. “Good cheekbones. Passable figure. Maybe we can gloss over the cowgirl foolishness. I think we can make something of her. Bring her,” he said to the man at his side and turned his back. “We’ll begin her training on the plane.”
“Now hold on a minute—”
Sergei started toward her and Kat stepped back, looking for an escape. “I’m not going anywhere, and you can’t make me.”
“I can do exactly that,” the monarch said, his expression dangerous. “I am your father. And your king.”
Kat’s knees quaked, but somehow she remained upright. “No. My father is dead. Mom told me—”
“Your mother lied.” King Leopold raised his chin and narrowed his gaze, looking down on her. “You will come with me now and fulfill your duty. You will be announced as my successor in two weeks. As the future Queen of Bellevaux, there are naturally security concerns, so it’s best we get you to the palace immediately.”
Kat could barely breathe. “Security concerns?” Her mind whirled as the morning’s events became clearer in her mind. “Like people coming after me, trying to kill me because I might be a stupid princess?”
Logan’s words finally made sense. Kat turned on the king. “We were locked in that burning barn because of you?”
“You will be the next queen.”
“No way. I gave up tiaras for cowboy boots when I was six. Find someone else to play dress up.” Kat shoved Logan aside and stalked to her scuffed boots, propped against an elegant mahogany dresser. “I’m not putting my children’s lives in danger for anyone.”
“Children?” Both Logan and the king shouted at her.
Kat whirled around. “Yes. My children. And I need to get to them now. If a killer came after me, he could go after them, too.”
Kat grabbed her Ropers and stuffed one foot in, then the other. She ignored her shaking hands. She had to get to Lanie and Hayden. She needed to see her kids, hug them, hold them, make sure they were okay. They were her family. Her only family.
Her eyes stung. She didn’t need some father who didn’t bother coming around until she was full grown, bringing danger into her life. She didn’t need anyone.
She chanced a glance at Logan. His expression had turned stone still. She wouldn’t have been able to recognize how badly her words had shocked him if she hadn’t watched his index finger scratching against his thumb. She recognized the sign. She’d seen it the last time while she’d hidden from him. He’d come to her house right after she’d run. He’d cursed the empty building, then left. Kat had wanted to move, but she couldn’t. She couldn’t let herself hope.
A few months later she’d learned the hard way that she’d been right. Logan didn’t really want her.
The king interrupted her thoughts.
“Your offspring. Do you have a son?” A small smile tilted his lips.
She didn’t like the predatory gleam in his eye. “What does it matter? This facade is over. Go back where you came from, and leave me and mine alone.”
She stalked to the door, grateful the sedative had worn off so she didn’t resemble a drunk on a Friday night bar crawl.
“Stop her,” the king ordered his flunky.
Sergei lunged at Kat. She stumbled away from him.
Logan stepped between them, cutting the man off. “I don’t think so.”
“You dare—”
“I dare a lot,” Logan said. “Move away. Now.”
Sergei didn’t stop coming. Kat braced herself. She’d fight. For her kids. With a single swipe Logan laid the man on the ground with a Taekwondo move. Logan pressed his arm against the man’s windpipe. “Don’t think about crossing me. You won’t win.”
Sergei’s eyes bugged out. He coughed and nodded his head.
Kat had never seen Logan this way. He was swift and deadly. She had no doubt he could maim or kill Sergei if he wanted to. The muscles in Logan’s arms tensed as he pressed against Sergei’s neck once more, then let him go with a warning glare.
“You’ve made your point,” the king announced. “Which is why I didn’t fire you when my son was murdered on your watch.”
Kat gasped.
“Yes, young woman. Both of your half brothers were assassinated. Now do you see why you need protection?”
Kat’s body went numb. “Logan?” She looked toward him, wanting nothing more than reassurance, but seeing none in his gaze.
“I’m sorry. You
