The Bodyguard's Prince (The Royal Wedding Book 1) Page 8

  “We know,” Squirrelly assured him, “We have your medical records.”

  If Toni hadn’t been busy trying to suck in oxygen past Bruiser’s forearm, she would’ve commented on that. How’d they get Alek’s medical records?

  It didn’t faze him. “Still, I’m willing to cooperate fully, to go along quietly and willingly, on one condition.”

  No! Nonono! Toni began to struggle anew, and maybe she’d made some kind of choked noise, because Alek’s stormy grey eyes snapped back to hers.

  “What’s the condition, Highness?” Baldy growled.

  “I’ll go peacefully with you—I’ll even help you if I can—if you bring Toni along, and swear not to hurt her.”

  Kneeling over him, his weight pinning Alek down, Scarface began to laugh. Even Squirrelly chuckled, turning to Baldy. “What do you say? Should we let him keep his bit of skirt? She’d probably keep him busy, if nothing else.”

  “The boss won’t like it—he didn’t say nothing about two prisoners.”

  “Please,” Alek said, but not in a pleading tone.

  What the hell are you doing? Don’t cooperate with them for my sake! Toni tried to shout, but she couldn’t. Her entire body—arms, legs, eyelids, tongue—felt as if it were made from lead. She could barely breathe, and felt herself go limp.

  “Eh, what the hell. You’ve got a deal, Highness.”

  At Baldy’s words, Squirrelly stood once more, the hypodermic needle still in his hand. If Toni had the breath, she would’ve sighed in relief. Alek was still in danger—she hated that he’d cooperated with the kidnappers!—but at least she’d be going with him.

  That relief lasted right up until Baldy pointed at her, and Squirrelly stepped near her with the needle. She began to struggle again, but Bruiser managed to squeeze even more, the needle moved towards her arm, and the world went black.

  Damn.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Alek concentrated on her breathing. In and out, in and out, raspy and painful-sounding, but at least she was breathing. There’d been a time there, right after she’d gone limp and he’d gone cold, that he’d worried he had lost her.

  And it had bothered him very much to think he’d lost her.

  So now, sitting on the sofa in the small apartment, her stretched out beside him with her head pillowed on his lap, he watched her breath, and thanked God they were both safe.

  Well, safe was a relative term and he knew it.

  Here they were, both locked in an apartment, who knows where. It seemed comfortable—reminded him of their family vacations at Mt. Viskan when he’d been a boy—but small. True to their word, the kidnappers had let him leave under his own power, although they’d zip-tied his wrists together, and duct-taped his mouth. The pain of that ignominy was only topped by how much it hurt when he’d had to rip the tape off after they’d been dumped here…would his beard ever recover?

  But what had been worse than how the kidnappers had treated him was what they’d done to Toni. After that monster of a man had choked her to within an inch of her life—Alek didn’t think he’d ever forget that terrifying shade of purple her skin had turned—they’d injected her with whatever sedative they’d planned to use on him.

  He’d fought them then, but when the bald man had pointed his weapon at Toni’s head, Alek shut up and let them tie him. It seemed they’d realized he would do anything—cooperate with anyone—if it meant keeping her safe.

  And they used that information to keep him moving out the window, across the courtyard, and into a waiting flower-delivery truck with a large open-seating area in the back. As they sped along for close to an hour in the dark—Alek tried to keep track of turns so he’d know where they were, but he lost count—he held Toni as best he could and glared at the kidnappers over his impromptu gag.

  It didn’t seem enough. He should’ve fought them, should’ve found a way to leave some evidence of a struggle. Instead, he’d caved completely, relying on diplomacy and promises as he’d been taught, just to save her life.

  Staring down at her now, he wondered what she would think when—if—she woke up. Would she approve of his compromise, or would she be disgusted he hadn’t fought for her? She’d probably be planning to attack them all single-handedly, before he’d stopped her. Did that make him a coward?

  She made a little noise, and turned her head. It wasn’t exactly a moan, because it was so raspy, and Alek wondered how badly her throat was injured. But maybe it meant she’d be waking up soon. It had already been close to five hours since they’d left the palace. At least, that was his best guess, since he didn’t know exactly what time it had been when they’d been kidnapped.

  They’d been dumped in here two hours ago, and their abductors hadn’t said a thing. They’d just pushed him into the room and yanked off the blindfold in time for Alek to see the huge guy drop Toni onto the couch. Then the bald one had cut the zip ties securing Alek’s wrists, given an ironic salute, and they’d backed out of the door.

  The first thing Alek had done was check Toni’s breathing. When he was sure she was alive and as healthy as she could be after being injected with whatever that had been, he’d hurried to check the door. Locked, of course, but so was the small window above the couch—the only two exits. His search of the small apartment became more and more frantic, as he looked for a way to escape or to contact the outside world.

  Nothing. Banging on the window didn’t even gain a response.

  The apartment had been well-stocked to hold him—or a prisoner, at least—and was utterly fortified. They were stuck here.

  By now, the sun was filtering through the eastern sky, and Alek had accepted his imprisonment. He’d been sitting at one end of the couch, Toni’s head on his lap, and had spent the last half hour alternating between watching her face and watching the shadows play across the walls of the room. That one window, high up, made him think they might be in a basement somewhere. It was dawn already, and he was still too wound up to sleep.

  Instead, he stroked her cheek, thinking about what was waiting for him back at the palace. By now, surely his absence had been discovered. Even if everyone had assumed he’d disappeared to his rooms with a willing partner—not the first time, after a formal event like last night’s ball—one of his guards would’ve noted Toni’s absence as well, and begun a search.

  Unless they thought she was the partner who’d joined him in his bed, and they wouldn’t be too far off, would they? He considered that kiss last night, considered how it had made him feel. Damn good was the answer, if he were being truthful. He was looking forward to repeating it, but just like last night, he wasn’t going to be the one to initiate it. After learning her history, he knew he would never be the one to push her past her comfort zone.

  Goading her into kissing him, though? Yeah, he could live with that. He could live with a lot more, and wondered how much goading it would take to get her to climb on top of him in that king-sized bed over there.

  Thinking about that had him smiling, not caring at all about his tape-burned lips and cheeks. And, of course, that’s when she opened her eyes.

  He held still as her gaze focused on him, her brows dipping in thought, and he imagined her trying to remember what had happened. Because of the way he was sitting, his face must’ve appeared upside down, so he twisted slightly—careful to keep her head supported—so they were more aligned. He kept his hand on her cheek, where he’d been touching her, just taking comfort from her warm skin.

  It was a good ten seconds before her gaze finally sharpened and he knew she understood. Her hand rose, but didn’t make it far, just touching his forearm.

  “Alek?” she whispered in a raspy voice.

  “Shhhh.” He moved his fingertips to her lips, wanting to remind himself how they felt, but also caution her against hurting her throat further. “I’m fine. I was worried about you, but I’m glad you’re back with me.” Anticipating what she might want to know, he went on, “We drove for a long time, but I don’t know the e
xact amount. We could be all the way on the other side of the kingdom by now.” He gestured around the small room. “They blindfolded me when we climbed out. I think we’re in an apartment complex, although we must be on the bottom floor. Maybe the basement.”

  Or maybe some serial killer’s private body-stash. It was difficult to guess, but Alek was determined to be positive about these things. After all, the place had been stocked with supplies for him, so that was a good sign. His mother had taught him diplomacy, politeness, and a strong sense of tradition can often get you things violence can’t, and he intended to apply the hell out of her lessons once “the boss” showed up.

  Toni’s lips twitched downward, but she nodded slightly. No-nonsense. “Help me up?”

  God, he hated to hear her sounding so weak, but he did everything he could to lift her upright. She rested her head against the back of the sofa, breathing deeply while she eyed their surroundings.

  “Locked?”

  He knew what she was asking and nodded. Even as weak as she was, Toni was already assessing their prison, trying to find a crack in their defenses. But he’d been over everything already, and didn’t think there was one.

  It must be killing her to be so weak that she couldn’t immediately jump up and test the door herself, but he really liked that she was willing to trust his assessment. It made him feel…well, like he was part of her team. Like she trusted him to know what she needed to know. He promised himself to live up to that trust.

  “There’s only that one window, and it’s locked from the outside. According to the logo it’s that bullet-proof stuff they put in the palace windows ten years ago, but I don’t know if this one is supposed to be for my protection or to prevent us leaving. The door is locked and reinforced at the hinges.”

  He stood up and padded barefoot—he’d shucked off his shoes and socks as soon as the kidnappers had left, while exploring—to the small kitchen area to reach for the tea kettle he’d kept warming. He’d found some honey and tea—his favorite kind—in the cabinet beside the microwave, and it sounded like she could use some.

  “Where?”

  He winced at how raw her voice sounded. “We could be anywhere, really. There weren’t too many sharp turns, and it felt like we were driving straight…but for all I know, we just drove in a big circle and are back in Solrighavn.” The tea was probably good enough as it was, but he stirred in three extra spoonfuls of honey, just to be sure. “If you’d been awake, I’m sure you could’ve kept track with your James-Bond senses, but I was woozy and worried about you.”

  Dammit, he sounded like he was whining, didn’t he? Alek hurried back to the sofa with the tea, sitting beside her and helping her to drink. Before she did though, she touched his wrists, where the marks from the zip ties still reddened his skin. The faint brush of her fingertips sent a shiver through him, and he wanted to grab her, press her against his body, remind them both they were still alive. Instead though, he forced himself to meet her gaze, and saw the guilt there.

  “I’m fine.” Now it was his turn to sound hoarse. He cleared his throat. “They didn’t hurt me, just like they’d promised. I’d rather be tied up than unconscious, so that was good.” He winced again. Way to go, idiot, reminding her of what happened to her.

  She must’ve seen the wince, and known what it meant, because one side of her lips curled upward in that wry grin he’d come to expect. She lifted the tea herself, and took a long sip of the honey-infused concoction.

  Once he thought her throat might be feeling better, he hesitantly asked, “How do you feel?”

  She pondered the question a moment, then responded. “Weak. Dizzy.”

  Was that because she’d been unconscious, or because of the sedative? He didn’t want to ask her now, not when she was just getting her voice back. He stuck two fingers under the mug and lifted it to her lips, which curled upward as she drank.

  When she’d finished the tea, he nodded, satisfied. Surely that much honey would help her throat. And he knew what else could help her…

  “Are you hungry?”

  She pondered the question for a moment before inhaling deeply. Marshalling her strength? “Yeah,” she said, “But I could go for a shower, too.”

  Her voice sounded stronger, and Alek was glad for it. As he watched, her fingers plucked at the dark material of her gown. Even though she’d been hot as hell last night, she was looking a little rumpled now, and understandably so.

  He nodded. “It’s your lucky day, then. The bathroom in this holding cell is state-of-the-art, and our captors were nice enough to provide some changes of clothing.” He nodded to the drawer under the TV. “The sweatpants and t-shirts will be baggy—the kidnappers were obviously planning on only me being stuck here—but would probably be a welcome change, huh?”

  She huffed a little, something that might be a laugh, and he felt a loosening in the band which had been tied around his chest for the last six hours. She was going to be okay.

  “In the meantime, I’ll whip us up something to eat.”

  Her head still resting against the back of the sofa, she tilted it slightly to stare at him, and raised one blonde brow. “You can cook?”

  Huffing at her incredulous tone, Alek pulled himself upright. “I’ll have you know I make the best damn fried egg sandwich I’ve ever tasted.” It was just about the only thing he knew how to make. “And there’re two cartons of eggs in there,” he nodded at the small fridge, “plus some prepared sides and microwave meals. Oh, and lox, cheese—basic sandwich stuff—and fresh fruit.” It was like whoever stocked this place knew his culinary skills were limited.

  “Swell,” she said, her lips twitching upwards. “I’ll make a quiche for dinner.”

  “If we’re even here that long,” he said as he snatched the cup from her hand. “Go take a shower, and when you’re out I’ll have more tea and an amazing breakfast of fried egg and cheese and sliced oranges.”

  “Sounds nice.”

  She was still smiling as she allowed him to help her to her feet, and moved slowly—carefully, like she was made of glass—across the room to the bathroom door. He watched, worried about how weak she was, reminding himself she was strong enough to overcome this.

  But once the shower turned on, and he pictured her in there naked and wet and hot, he had to distract himself by rummaging around for a pan to cook in. Bodyguard or not, wounded or not, selfish or not…he was damn glad she was stuck here with him.

  It was amazing how much more human she could feel after a steaming hot shower. Toni had been knocked unconscious before—growing up riding horses without helmets, then in the Army—but this had felt worse than that. When she’d found the pinprick on her arm, she realized the kidnappers must’ve given her the sedative they’d planned to give Alek.

  Standing there in the foggy bathroom, rubbing at that little red mark on her bicep, Toni analyzed her feelings. She’d been so terrified when they’d waved that syringe at Alek, so scared of what they were going to do to him. But now, knowing they’d done it to her…? For some reason, all she could muster was “meh.” But why? Did she not care about her own well-being—something her brother had often teased her about? Or was it just that she cared so much more for Alek’s?

  She’d cared for other clients’ well-being, certainly. But what she’d felt last night when those men had threatened Alek…that had gone beyond caring. She’d felt a deep, gut-searing terror that he would be hurt, the way she might if Eric or Lin or their parents were in trouble. When had she started thinking of Alek as family?

  When had she fallen in love with him?

  “Toni? Ready for breakfast?”

  Alek’s call from the other room broke through her thoughts, which she noticed were beginning to wander. She hated this foggy feeling, and vowed to consider these new realizations later. Was she in love with her employer? She was the one who’d kissed him, after all. Maybe he felt nothing in return for her—he was naturally a protective and loyal man. It was what made him such
a good ruler, if a bit prickly.

  Still, she couldn’t think about that now. Now, she needed to find a way out of here for both of them.

  Her stomach rumbled. Wait, no, now she needed food. Maybe then she could work on the lock on the door.

  A yawn took her by surprise, but she brushed it away. She needed food, then action, then she might allow herself to nap a little. Whatever she’d been doing on that sofa, it hadn’t been sleep.

  Later, she sat with Alek at a small table which had been tucked in beside the hot plate and microwave he’d used to cook the surprisingly good fried-egg-and-cheese sandwich he’d placed proudly in front of her.

  “So wait, where did you learn to cook like this?” Toni knew the question was rude, but she liked teasing Alek. And judging from the slight upward tilt of his lips, he didn't mind much.

  But it was an honest question, too. In all the months she been working for him, she'd never seen him cook anything. She’d never even seen him in the palace kitchens! They had an entire staff—two shifts of people!—entirely devoted to the royal family's meals. Every morning, breakfast was waiting for him in his sitting room, and his dinners were spent either with his family in the formal dining room, or with diplomats or businessmen who shared his interests. In fact, come to think of it, he spent his lunches that way too—working while sharing meals with people who could expand the interests of Aegiria. So where the hell had he learned to cook a fried egg?

  Alek took the time to chew and swallow, then wiped some crumbs off his beard with a napkin he’d pulled from a roll. It was a far cry from the formal dinners he was used to, but it felt right to Toni. Normal. Like the meals she’d grown up with.

  He cleared his throat as he reached for his tea. “Are you saying that because you’re appalled by my cooking skills?”

  She chuckled. “No. I’m downright impressed. This was my father’s go-to meal whenever he had to cook for us kids when we were younger.” She smiled at the memory. “Tastes like home.”