Her Every Pleasure Part 15

Sophia cast about for her courage when she saw the brooding glower on his face. Oh, yes, he had recognized her, all right, and she knew very well she had some explaining to do. The harsh staccato of his strides stopped as he halted, arriving before her.

"Your Highness," the lord chamberlain intoned, "Major Gabriel Knight, late of India."

Sophia held his confounded stare while the whole court waited for him to make his bow.

The consummate cavalry officer just glared at her.

She offered him a penitent smile; he narrowed his sapphire eyes and shook his head in subtle defiance.

The lord chamberlain cleared his throat insistently.

Gabriel shot the old man a seething glance and then begrudged Her Highness the most perfunctory bow.

Satisfied, she rose from her throne and took a graceful step down from the raised dais where her chair was set, offering him her hand to kiss. "Major, how good of you to come."

The whole court watched as he frowned at her extended hand; she waited, eyebrows raised. At last, he accepted, apparently unimpressed by the great favor it signified. The moment his fingers clasped hers, however, a shock of thrilling awareness arrested Sophia.

Gabriel seemed to feel it, too. Startled, they looked at each other for a breathless second. The searing memory of their secret night together charged the air between them, like the earth's atmosphere before a storm.

Sophia feared she began blus.h.i.+ng in front of the whole court. Her pulse clamored, but, oh, the attraction was as strong as she remembered.

Slowly, Gabriel lowered his lips to her knuckles. Trapped in his gaze, she caught her breath the second his warm, satiny lips brushed her bare knuckles. The smolder in his eyes held her spellbound. Never had a simple hand kiss felt so deliciously indecent.

From the corner of her eye, she noticed Lady Alexa studying him with obvious interest, but her flirtatious friend had better not even think about laying a finger on him. When it came to Gabriel, Sophia had no intention of sharing-but maybe Alexa would behave for once. She wasn't herself these days, badly shaken up by the attack. Alexa had been acting so clingy ever since Sophia had returned, alive and well, from her sojourn at the farm.

As Gabriel released her hand from his light hold, she dropped her gaze and cleared her throat slightly, scrambling to collect herself from his touch. Quickly regaining her poise, she bestowed a regal smile on him and gestured to the surrounding hall. "Welcome, Major, to my temporary home."

Her composure seemed to irritate him. He glared at her again. "Who are you?" he whispered fiercely.

She flicked a meaningful glance toward the lord chamberlain, who was already reciting her full name and various t.i.tles for his benefit. But Gabriel just kept staring at her in lingering incredulity.

When Alexa cleared her throat demurely, no doubt desirous of an introduction, Sophia gathered her skirts and started down the few shallow steps from the dais. "Major, would you kindly come with me?" She did not intend to discuss this in front of the entire court.

At once, the musicians stopped playing. All the courtiers and ladies dropped in a collective bow or curtsy, which they held until she exited.

As Sophia preceded Gabriel into the adjoining chamber, her Greek guards followed right along in formation; Timo and Yannis took up their places flanking the door. Ever since their brief separation, her loyal guards had barely let her out of their sight.

Giving them a quick look of grat.i.tude as she pa.s.sed, Sophia strode into the Map Room, an ancient, wood-paneled, square box of a chamber. It was smaller and darker than the sparkling throne room, but equipped with all the tools for strategy making. Maps and charts covered the walls. Loaded bookshelves bowed under the weight of dusty atlases, while globes and diverse timepieces were arrayed amid piles of books on st.u.r.dy oak tables.

But the Map Room's most intriguing feature was the grand topographical model of the known world laid out in a large circle on the floor, complete with miniature mountain ranges and blue-painted seas, crisscrossed with the golden lines of lat.i.tude and longitude.

Toy-sized models of great landmarks appeared at the appropriate locations: miniature pyramids at Egypt, a little Blue Mosque at Constantinople, Notre Dame at Paris, the Tower of London, the great colosseum of Rome, and so on.

The world model was quite old, and though the land formations stayed the same, of course, the owners.h.i.+p and names of countries had changed frequently. Parts of it were still being repainted to reflect the latest reallocations of territory after Napoleon's downfall.

Sophia swept past it as she crossed the dimly lit chamber. Still scowling, Gabriel followed her in and pulled the door shut behind him with a bang.

"Can I offer you refreshments, Major?" Heading toward the liquor cabinet, she glanced over her shoulder at him. "You look like you could do with a drink."

"Hang your drink, I will have answers! Who are you, and what the h.e.l.l is going on?" He tossed his helmet angrily onto a leather wing chair.

"Weren't you listening to the lord chamberlain?" she asked, trying to conjure a tone of conviviality as she poured him a splash of brandy. "I am the Princess Royal of Kavros. And I need your help."

"Why?" he demanded.

"Oh, because somebody's trying to kill me. That's how I ended up at your farm. Here." Lifting the hem of her long skirts up a bit to skim the floor, she brought the snifter over and offered it to him, gazing into his eyes.

In her heart, she still savored the memory of that cozy supper they had shared in his kitchen like two ordinary folk, a man and a woman enjoying simple, rustic fare.

Still glowering, the Iron Major made no move to take the drink. Sophia shrugged and tossed back a swallow of it herself. She feared she was going to need it. He was obviously furious at her. This was not going to be easy.

"I don't b.l.o.o.d.y believe this." Jaw clenched, he shook his head. "You're the person they want me to guard?"

"I'm afraid so. Gabriel, just give me a moment to explain-"

"Please do!"

She held up her hand soothingly.

He checked his fiery protest with a growl.

Not daring to press her luck, she got straight to the point. In truth, it was a relief to be able to tell him everything at last. "That morning that you found me sleeping in your barn, I had just barely escaped with my life from a deadly attack on my entourage. We were en route to this castle when we were ambushed by masked men."

His black eyebrows drew together in an ominous line as he listened to her account.

"The members of my security detail were taken by surprise." A pang of grief made her lower her head. "It went badly for my men, and the next thing I knew, my chief bodyguard was ordering me to flee-on that bay horse you found. There were certain coordinates I had to follow so that my guards could easily find me again when the threat had pa.s.sed. Those coordinates, Gabriel, led me straight to you. If that's not destiny, I don't know what is." She lifted her gaze and looked into his eyes with cautious hope.

He was frowning.

"When I took refuge in your barn, I thought the place was deserted. I thought the attackers might still be chasing me. I had to hide. When you woke me up and wanted me to leave, I didn't know what to do. I had to stay there at the proper coordinates so my men could find me again. You've served as a bodyguard-you must know this is a common procedure and that I am telling the truth." She shook her head, willing him to believe her. "When you supplied a reason to explain my being there, all that about your brother, I just...went along with it."

Looking slightly dazed, he let out a short, scoffing laugh and shook his head. "So, you're not a Gypsy at all, then."

"No, Gabriel," she said with a tender smile at his understandable bewilderment, "I'm Greek. Come. Let me show you." Turning his attention to the three-dimensional map, she picked up a slender wooden pointer.

"What's all this?" he muttered, glancing down at the sprawling, permanent model on the floor.

"The world." While he folded his arms across his chest, still scowling, she pointed to the mouth of the long, narrow Adriatic. "See here? Below the heel of Italy's boot, and west of the Peloponnesus."

He nodded, taking in the layout of the region in a glance.

"This little dotting of mountainous Greek islands, here, this is my homeland-Kavros." It was little bigger than a sprinkling of bread crumbs on the map, but she lifted her gaze and sent him a tentative smile tinged with pride. "Some say Kavros is the legendary homeland of Circe, the G.o.ddess who enchanted Odysseus for seven years on his way home from the battle of Troy."

His blue eyes flickered warily.

"My family has ruled these islands for hundreds of years-until Napoleon came along and threw us out. That was in 1800. I was only three the night my family had to flee for our lives. I grew up in exile here in England, living quietly under the protection of the Crown.

"All the while, the war against Napoleon was raging. My poor country became a battleground between the great powers. First the French invaded, then the Austrians kicked them out, next the Russians took over, and finally, the British gained a foothold. They established a naval base on the main island.

"When Napoleon was defeated, England laid claim to Kavros as the spoils of war. They made it official at the Congress of Vienna; Kavros became a British protectorate.

"It is a tiny country, but as you can see, its location offers a distinct strategic advantage to whoever controls it. Your amiable kinsman, Lord Griffith, explained the importance to me of England's interests at Kavros. Would you like to hear them?"

He nodded, still eyeing her in suspicion.

"Firstly, they wanted the base to reinforce England's holdings at Malta. Secondly, so the Royal Navy could safeguard vital trade coming out of Egypt by the overland route from India. Thirdly, the base is intended to give the British a stronger hand throughout Europe's midsection, here. All that was why Napoleon wanted it, too." She glanced warily at him. "And the others."

As she set the pointer down, Gabriel turned to her with a brooding look stamped across his chiseled face. She could see he was taking it all in, his arms folded across his chest.

"Unfortunately, your Marines can't make any headway with my people. We are a very stubborn nation," she admitted with a wry smile. "The people of Kavros are a simple folk-goatherds, winemakers, fishermen. They want to live in peace. But almost twenty years of war has reduced our land to chaos.

"Those loyal to my family have kept me apprised of conditions there." She shook her head at the disheartening realities that lay in store. "Ports and roads, bridges and aqueducts that we rely upon have been destroyed in the bombing and never repaired. The people are reduced to subsistence, and they're angry. They're not only tearing each other apart, now they've also begun las.h.i.+ng out at the British troops stationed there. My greatest fear is that one day, they'll go too far and provoke a retaliation from the Marines."

He snorted at this suggestion. "You are still not convinced of an Englishman's self-discipline?"

She took note of the reproachful double entendre in his murmur, but opted to ignore it.

"Because of all the unrest on Kavros, the English government has decided to restore me to my father's throne," she said. "I'm to be given full sway over domestic matters, while England will control our foreign affairs. Unfortunately, it is now clear that there are those who would prefer it if I did not come back at all. But I won't be stopped. This is my duty, Gabriel. My destiny. My people need me. And, if you're willing, I'd like for you to join me in my quest."

He stared at her for a long moment, then shook his head. "You'd better give me that," he muttered, reaching for the brandy snifter she had set aside.

He finished the rest of its contents in one large gulp. She watched him in wary amus.e.m.e.nt as he licked his lips. Then he set the gla.s.s down, eyeing her dubiously.

"Why didn't you tell me all of this from the start?"

"I couldn't! Gabriel, those were the rules."

"You didn't think you could trust me?"

"Don't be obtuse! How would you like it if someone you were guarding back in India ignored your rules and did whatever they pleased while you were risking your life for them? Considering all my men risked for me, the least that I could do was follow the b.l.o.o.d.y protocol, and if that meant lying to you, well, I'm sorry if you feel slighted. I wanted to tell you the truth, but when you shared the story with me about how you nearly died, my mind was made up to keep you out of it. Maybe I was trying to protect you, I don't know-"

"Protect me?"

"After all you've been through, I did not want you involved. Unfortunately, that is no longer possible. For me and for my people, there is so much at stake, and you're the only one I feel that I can trust."

"What do you mean?"

"As a result of the attack, the Foreign Office is now forcing me to accept an English officer as my new head of security. They tried to appoint some fool for the post, but I told Lord Griffith that if they're going to insist on this, then at least it will be a man of my choosing."

"And that's me?" he murmured with a skeptical stare.

She tried hard not to blush. "You've been a bodyguard before, and more important, you understand the Eastern way of warfare. It is my strong feeling that Ali Pasha of Janina is behind this..." Her words trailed off and he slowly paced away from her.

He gave the globe an idle spin as he sauntered past it. "So, you summoned me here because I'm useful to you." He cast her a smoldering but hostile look. "Is that why you lingered at the farmhouse with me? Because I was...useful?" he asked with pointed innuendo.

"Of course not! What happened between us, well, you can't deny we both wanted it. I admit, the thought of being able to spend time with you again holds-a certain appeal. And if we're together again in this fas.h.i.+on-"

"That's not what this is about."

She stared at him, her heart pounding. "It could be."

"No, Your Highness," he said in soft but pointed tone. "To be sure, I'm flattered by your interest in this lowly commoner, but you're dead wrong if you think I'm going to serve as your plaything as well as your bodyguard. You've already toyed with me enough, don't you think?"

She stiffened.

"I enjoyed it, of course, but what makes you think I'd even be willing, after the way you left me in that bed without a word?"

"What was I to say?"

"A simple good-bye would have been appreciated," he said idly while Sophia stood there, tongue-tied, to find her attempt to reestablish some sort of discreet romance with him completely rejected.

The most startling part was her realization that he was this hurt. He was trying to pretend he wasn't, of course-being a male, he had no other choice-but hurt was the most logical explanation for his rude facade of nonchalance.

Her mind was reeling. She hadn't dared hope that he cared about her enough to bother much over whether she left or stayed.

"Besides," Gabriel continued, distracting her as if he realized she had seen through him, "I don't suppose your current head of security will be very obliging about this little arrangement you're proposing. Or has he been duly sacked?"

"He is dead." Her stare sharpened, a hint of tears coming into her eyes. "Mock me as you like, but do not aim your sarcasm at him, Major. Leon gave his life so I could get away," she informed him, then drew a shaky inhalation.

Gabriel had gone motionless. He was staring at her. "I'm sorry."

She shook her head, avoiding his gaze as her tears thickened. "He was already wounded when he put me on that horse to ride away, but I didn't think..." Her voice failed her, her words trailing off as a tremor moved through her body. The funeral had been two days ago, but she still could not believe he was dead. The hope of having Gabriel as his replacement had been the only thing that had finally made her stop crying.

"I am sorry," he repeated, taking a step closer. "I meant no disrespect."

She wrapped her arms around herself and stared out the window. "Leon was like a father to me. That night I told you about, when I was a child and my family had to flee Napoleon's cannons, it was he who carried me as we all ran down to the s.h.i.+p. Now he's gone. And I must face the greatest task of my life without his counsel."

"It sounds like he prepared you well for it." Slowly, Gabriel came over to stand before her.

"He did everything in his power to try. Any shortfalls in my abilities are my own."

Gabriel lowered his head and touched her hand with a small, tentative caress. She let him take her hand. He curled his white-gloved fingers around hers. "Is he the reason you're so good with that knife?"

She mustered up a smile and met his tender gaze at last. "He taught me everything I know. It was necessary," she added in a cynical tone. "People in my family have a habit of winding up dead. My father, two elder brothers. That's how I ended up next in line for the throne. I'm the last one left. I may be just a woman, but I'm all my people have got."

"Sophia," he whispered. "Come here." He drew her into his arms, sheltering her in his protective embrace. Perhaps he sensed how badly she had needed to be held. With a lump in her throat, she hugged him hard around his waist, burying her face against his chest.

"Gabriel-I'm scared."

"Of course you are." He cupped her head under his chin, standing steadfast as he held her. "It's all right, sweet," he breathed, caressing her hair for a moment. "You're not as alone as you think."

With tears tumbling from her eyes, Sophia pulled back and searched his face intensely. Her heart pounded. "Does that mean you will help me?"

"Sophia." Holding her gaze with a stormy yet gentle look, he captured her face between his white-gloved hands and wiped her tears away with his thumbs. His voice was a husky whisper. "I could never turn my back on you."

"Gabriel." She slid her arms around his neck and hugged him for all she was worth. "Thank you," she choked out, kissing his cheek as more tears spilled from her eyes. "I know what I'm asking of you is a lot. We'll do everything perfectly so you won't get hurt again and no matter what, I'm sure you won't have to kill again, but I need you-"

"Shh." He hushed her with a finger over her lips, as if he knew she was making promises she could not keep.