Protecting the Princess. Rachelle McCalla
As though to reinforce the reality of the situation, another furious explosion rocked the earth, this time closer to the rear of the motorcade.
But her brother, Prince Alexander, and her sister, Princess Isabelle, would be riding toward the rear of the motorcade.
Right where the blast had struck.
Another bright ball of fire seared the sky.
Kirk punched the vehicle into gear and whipped the Jeep into a tight turn.
“What are you doing? What’s going on?” Stasi couldn’t believe the horrific sight she’d just witnessed—was still witnessing, as another loud explosion rocked the city behind them.
“Get down,” Kirk ordered.
Stasi’s eyes widened as she looked at him. What was happening? Were Kirk’s actions related to the attack? He’d been linked to such a horrible crime before.
“Down!” Kirk’s open palm pushed her head below the level of the dashboard.
She grabbed his wrist and tore his arm away from her royal head. “No. I won’t do what you say.”
Kirk stopped the Jeep with a jerk and glared at her. “Don’t fight me. Don’t you see? The royal family has been attacked. If anyone sees you, they’ll know you weren’t killed. I’ve got to get you out of here.”
Stasi looked at him dumbly. Too many disturbing things had happened that day. “What do you mean? You think someone might try to kill me?”
Throwing a glance in the direction of the motorcade, Kirk leaned close to her ear. His voice rumbled in low tones. “I’ve heard rumors.” Kirk was a sentinel in the royal guard. Stasi wondered if that was where the rumors he’d heard had originated. “I didn’t think there was any substance to it. Clearly I was wrong.”
“Rumors of what? This attack?”
Kirk’s hazel eyes closed as another blast rent the air. Pain struggled across his face. When he opened his eyes, his tone was patient, yet intense. “An insurgent uprising. A coup to overthrow your father’s government. Assassinating the royal family.”
“My family?” Stasi could barely muster the words. She felt as though her breath had been stolen.
“Please.” Kirk’s voice plunged to pleading depths. “You’ve got to stay down. Your life is in danger.”
Stasi shrunk in her seat, but her eyes didn’t leave Kirk’s face. “What are you going to do with me?”
“I’m going to hide you if I can.” He looked around at the empty streets. “But you’ve got to do what I say.”
Numbly, Stasi nodded, hardly able to believe what she was agreeing to. But really, she had no choice. She’d have to trust the man who’d been accused of killing her brother.
When Stasi all but disappeared into the pouf of her royal gown on the floor of his Jeep, Kirk tossed his canvas military duffel bag on top of her and prayed no one would stop them. The open Jeep offered little in the way of cover, and now that the loud explosions had ceased, the people who had rushed inside at the first sign of trouble began to peek curiously out of the buildings they passed.
Kirk took back roads to the marina. The attack shocked him, but he’d always been a man of action. He’d find a way to get the princess to safety, then come back and ask questions. Besides, it was likely too soon for anyone to know why the attacks had happened or who was behind them.
He slowed their vehicle as they approached the marina and found an out-of-the-way parking spot not far from the rocky cliffs. It was still a long trek to his sailboat, but that stage of the trip didn’t worry him nearly as much as what he was about to do.
Killing the engine, Kirk leaned over and lifted the duffel bag just enough to allow him to see Stasi’s frightened blue eyes looking up at him.
“We’re at the marina.” He laid out the bare facts of the situation. “There aren’t too many people around. I’m going to take you to my boat.”
He watched indecision war across her face. Would she trust him? Given the accusations that had been made against him in the past, he knew she’d have every right not to trust him. But she also had no other alternative, and he’d have to have her cooperation if he was going to get her out of the city alive.
And he had to get her out of the city. As a sentinel in the royal guard, he’d taken a vow to protect the royal family. There was no doubt in his mind that every minute she stayed in Sardis, her life was in greater danger.
“How am I going to get to the boat without anyone seeing me?”
Her question was an excellent one. With her golden-blond hair, inherited from her American mother, Princess Anastasia would easily stand out among the mostly darker-haired Lydians at the marina, especially since her dramatic curls were styled in an elaborate formal hairdo.
He couldn’t risk letting anyone even suspect the princess was with him. He was certain her life would depend upon that.
“I’ll carry you. You’ll fit in my duffel bag.” The enormous military-size bag was meant to carry everything a soldier needed during deployment. It was more than big enough for the petite princess.
Her mouth dropped open, and her head peeked up higher.
Kirk looked around warily. So far no one was paying them any attention. The explosions would have been clearly visible from the marina, and most of those milling about appeared to be caught up in discussions, or on the phone, staring toward the place where the smoke still rose, gesturing toward the plumes, no doubt trying to determine what had happened.
Fortunately, though the Jeep he’d driven belonged to the royal household, there was nothing about the vehicle to identify it as such. And nimble Jeeps were common enough on the steep terrain and narrow streets of Sardis, Lydia’s capital city.
Unfortunately, plenty of folks, including the royal guards who’d been standing at the gates, had surely seen the princess riding with him as they left the palace. If anyone wanted to locate her, they wouldn’t have to ask around long before they figured out she was with him. He would have to hurry if he was going to get her out of Sardis before anyone caught up to them.
Reluctance filled her face, but to her credit, the princess didn’t protest his plan. She ducked low while he emptied the canvas bag of what he could—his royal guard uniform and some books. These he stowed in the locked compartment under the rear seat. The key to the compartment was on the key ring he’d taken from the cabinet.
“Can you wriggle in there?” He settled the open military duffel over Stasi’s head.
The petite princess fumbled inside the oversize bag, and Kirk hopped out, circling around to her side of the Jeep and helping her tuck her feet inside before carefully upending the bag with her in it, and tucking the folds of her dress in after her.
Fearful eyes watched him pull the zipper up toward her face. He could see a hundred questions on her lips and knew she had to be afraid. Of the insurgents, and also, of him.
“I’ll keep you safe.”
She gave a tiny nod, and he zipped the bag closed.
Hefting the strap over his shoulder, he carried her as gently as he could without making a show of it. He tossed his head back and tried to look carefree as he made his way toward the boardwalk.
The youngest member of the Royal House of Lydia had always been light. This wasn’t the first time he’d carried her. Growing up best friends with her elder brother, Thaddeus, Kirk had spent most of his childhood playing with the royal siblings: Thaddeus, Alexander, Isabelle and Anastasia. He’d always had a soft spot for tiny Stasi, born almost two months premature, who’d tried so hard to keep up with the older children.
While the royal siblings seemed content to run on without her, Kirk