Kitabı oku: «The Royal Treatment», sayfa 2

But until Morgan, the rightful king, either recovered from his illness or was succeeded by one of his sons, Morgan’s twin, Broderick, would remain temporarily in charge, reigning in his brother’s stead.

J.T. could not understand how twin brothers could be as different from each other as the king and Broderick were. Morgan was fair-minded and loyal, with an innate sense of decency. Broderick, on the other hand, couldn’t be trusted as far he could be thrown. But since it was J.T.’s sworn duty to protect the royals, he was bound to keep his opinions to himself and simply do his job.

As Franklin hung up the phone and leaned back in his black leather chair, J.T. turned to find the man studying him. “What’s this I hear about you and a female reporter having a public argument at the gate yesterday?”

He shouldn’t have been surprised. Not much got past Vancour. Which was why he was in charge of security around here.

“Not really an argument,” J.T. countered, crossing his right foot atop his left knee. “She wanted in. I disagreed. I won.”

Franklin’s bushy gray eyebrows lifted slightly. “So I heard. But the point is, we can’t afford to offend the press right now.”

“Offend her?” J.T. almost chuckled, but he knew it wouldn’t be appreciated. “With her attitude, she’s lucky she didn’t get shot. Lieutenant Gimble deserves a medal for putting up with her tirade.”

Franklin sighed and shook his head. “Ms. Erickson is a popular personality these days.”

J.T. shifted uncomfortably in his chair. He had the distinct feeling he wasn’t going to like the direction this conversation was taking.

His boss continued. “The queen watches her People in Penwyck reports every day.”

“Yeah,” J.T. said. “Real in-depth reporting there. What was her last bit? About the cats who’ve lived in the palace?”

“Doesn’t matter,” the other man countered. “The point is, your former wife’s making a name for herself.”

“I know.” There were only a handful of people on this whole island who knew that he and Jade had once been married. They’d divorced long before she’d become an on-air personality. Vancour knew only because of the security check J.T. had had to pass before accepting the promotion to the palace guard.

But this was the first time in two years the other man had mentioned it.

“No way,” J.T. muttered, suspicion crawling through him. He pushed himself out of the chair. “You’re not suggesting we let her into the palace to do her interview, are you?”

“No.” Franklin propped his fingertips together as he thought about it. “Not yet, anyway. Soon, though. Won’t be able to avoid it much longer. What I’m suggesting is that you show her around the palace grounds for now.” He shrugged. “Give her a little and maybe she’ll be satisfied.”

J.T. doubted that. “Not her. She wants an interview and she won’t be satisfied until she gets it.”

“No interviews. Yet.”

There was something in his tone, an underlying edge of excitement, that caught J.T.’s attention.

“Is there news on the king?”

Franklin studied J.T. for a long minute, decided he had no qualms about telling him what he knew. Jeremy Wainwright was the most trustworthy man he’d ever known. The lad was headed for big things one day, Franklin mused. Maybe even this job.

And in this office, with the door closed, the two men could talk freely, without worrying about being overheard or quoted.

Nodding, he said, “The king’s doctors seem to think there are encouraging signs. It seems he may be rousing from the coma.”

“That is good news.” Hell, it was great news. As a citizen of Penwyck, J.T. had been as worried about his king as anyone else. And being a member of the inner circle, he’d been a part of the coverup that had been so dangerous to his country. “So does this mean that Br—”

“No.” Franklin stood up, too. “The king’s brother will remain as temporary head of the country.” Pacing, he seemed to be carefully considering something as he said, “And frankly, the easier we can make this on the queen, the better. Her Majesty is inundated with problems and trying to keep things running despite Broderick’s interference.”

J.T. nodded and waited for the man to continue. It didn’t take long.

“The RET is doing what it can. But security here is up to us.”

The Royal Elite Team was probably champing at the bit to do something—anything. But when it came to palace security, the RII was in charge. And J.T. was just competitive enough to enjoy knowing that the members of the RET were clearly unhappy with the situation.

“I understand,” he said, though he wasn’t entirely sure he knew where Franklin was going with this.

The older man laughed shortly and stopped his frenetic pacing to stare at him from across the room. “I don’t think you do, or you wouldn’t be so agreeable.”

“What’s going on, Franklin?”

“I need you to distract your ex-wife.”

“That’s going above and beyond the call of duty.” Dumbfounded, J.T. swallowed back a rising tide of anger.

“You know her best. Know how to keep her off track. Keep her happy.”

If he’d known how to keep her happy, J.T. thought, they’d still be married. This was a bad idea. Real bad. And he didn’t mind saying so. “Won’t work. Jade’s not exactly my biggest fan.”

“Just buy us a couple of days.”

“And then what?”

“She’ll get her interview and you won’t have to deal with her again.”

Now that should be good news. But the fact was, J.T. had done nothing but think about her since seeing her outside the gates. She’d haunted his every thought, stalked his dreams and filled his mind until he couldn’t even draw a breath without imagining her scent.

Now that he’d seen her again after three long years, he wasn’t exactly in a hurry to be rid of her. And that surprised him as much as it would have her.

Vancour walked across the room slowly, keeping his gaze locked with J.T.’s. “I need your cooperation in this, Wainwright. Your king needs it.”

J.T. studied him. There was something in the other man’s eyes that hinted at the seriousness of the situation. Well, hell, they’d all been living in a pressure cooker for weeks. Ever since the king had collapsed unexpectedly.

Placate Jade.

From a purely male standpoint, that wasn’t such a tough assignment. There was so much history between them, though. So much hurt and pain and misery. Yet before the pain, there had also been…a connection between them that had been stronger and deeper than anything he’d ever experienced before or since.

But she also had an argumentative streak that would give the most patient man in the world the urge to throttle her. Just remembering how she’d stood up to him, shaken the iron gates and glared at him without an instant’s hesitation was almost enough to make J.T. smile. A man his size didn’t usually meet people who weren’t instantly intimidated. Jade never had been, though, and he’d always admired her for it.

She wouldn’t be an easy woman to manipulate. And if Franklin Vancour thought she could be bought off by a walk through the palace gardens, he was sadly mistaken.

Still…if all the palace required was a few more days’ respite, maybe J.T. could pull it off. Maybe he could keep her busy enough that she wouldn’t notice that she wasn’t any closer to the interior of the palace than she’d been yesterday. And, if he spent enough time in her company, perhaps the attraction he felt for her would die a natural death. Maybe this was what they both needed to completely end what they’d finished three years ago. Maybe they needed to spend time together again to realize that it was all really gone.

And maybe he was a masochist.

At any rate, it’d certainly be the most interesting assignment he’d been given since joining the RII.

He looked at Franklin. “A few days?”

The man nodded slowly. “At the most.”

“I’ll do my best,” J.T. told him.

“I knew I could count on you.”

A few minutes later, Jeremy was letting himself out of the security office and heading back to the guardhouse. Autumn sunshine spilled out of a cloudy sky and he told himself that he should enjoy it while it lasted. He had a feeling he was headed into stormy weather.

Three

The next morning, J.T. sat through the security briefing, but his mind was several miles away. Five, to be exact. He imagined Jade in a plush office, snapping orders at a battalion of minions. Once she’d finished making heads roll, she would no doubt sit back in a comfortable chair, sip a morning cup of tea and plan how next she would try to ruin his life.

And she’d do it all with a smile curving that fabulous mouth of hers.

Around him, the other members of the RII shifted and muttered to one another, but as far as J.T. was concerned, they had the easy jobs. All they had to do was concern themselves with defense of the palace. Routine tasks, with only the occasional chance to jump in front of some crazed assassin. He, on the other hand, would soon be dealing with the only woman who’d ever been able to get to him.

His fingers tightened around the pen in his right hand. Just to torture himself, J.T. had started his day by watching her early morning report on PEN-TV. Real investigative stuff, he mused now, making a point of relaxing his hand. Jade Erickson had looked directly into the camera and, with a beaming smile on her face, reported a story on the old smugglers caves. Then she’d even launched into the local belief that ghosts of long-dead pirates still haunted the dank caverns.

His amusement had died quickly enough, though, when he reminded himself that she’d walked out on him and what they might have had together for the opportunity to smile into a camera.

Of course, he didn’t want to think about just how good she’d looked, standing in the wind, with the roaring sea just behind her. How her auburn hair had flown about her face with abandon and how her sea-green eyes had seemed to stare directly into his.

All right, he thought, pushing her image out of his brain. He didn’t need to think about her now. He’d be seeing her all too soon as it was.

After a sleepless night, Jade was in no mood to be stonewalled at the palace gates today. She’d thought about it long and hard during the hours she’d spent sitting straight up in bed, gripping her self-defense weapon—a golf club. For weeks now, she’d been receiving those vaguely threatening letters. Only recently had they begun to get a bit creepier. But the video stalking was definitely upping the ante.

Yet she couldn’t allow this individual, whoever it was, to affect her work. If she crawled off into a hole and hid away, then the person trying to scare her would have won. Besides, there was no guarantee that hiding would protect her. Maybe it was safer to stay in the public eye. Certainly, it would be difficult, if not impossible, for someone to kidnap her out of the station. Or from in front of a news camera.

No, the thing to do was to go on with her everyday life as if nothing were wrong. To surrender was to lose power in this, and she wouldn’t allow that to happen. She’d fought for a long time to have the kind of career she’d always dreamed of. She’d given up the man she loved. She’d made this choice and now she would find a way to make it work.

In fact, she hadn’t even bothered to go into the station first this morning. Hadn’t had to. They’d run one of her taped pieces on the morning news. She’d simply called in and had Harry meet her at her apartment. Might as well beard J.T. in his den as early as possible.

“You okay?” Harry asked as he steered the station van down the tree-lined street toward the palace.

“Dandy,” she said, and tugged the hem of her camel-brown skirt over her knees.

“Well, you don’t look okay.”

“Gee thanks, Harry.” Jade smiled at her cameraman. They’d been together for two years and Harry was her best friend at the station. “You’re such a sweet-talker.”

The older man grumbled unintelligibly for a minute or two, then sucked in a deep breath and blew it out again. “I only meant that you look tired.”

So much for the miraculous properties of makeup. She flipped the visor down and peered at her own reflection in the small mirror. He was right. Jade sighed, flipped the visor back up and admitted, “I didn’t get much sleep last night.”

“Another letter?” he asked, his voice tight with worry.

“No,” she said quickly, “no more letters.” She’d already decided not to tell him about the videotape. The police and her bosses at the station weren’t concerned about the letters she’d been receiving. But Harry, bless him, was. No point in telling him about the tape. Anyway, she had the video with her and planned to take it to the police station herself this afternoon.

Besides, it hadn’t been worry keeping her up half the night. It had been dreams of J.T. Memories. His face floating through her mind and the recollection of his touch on her body… Nope. No sleep for Jade.

“That’s good.” Harry steered the van around a stalled car, pushed his way into the stream of traffic again, then asked, “So why are we hitting the palace bright and early? This could have waited until later.”

“Maybe,” she conceded, and stifled a yawn. “But why wait? If I catch him early enough in the morning, maybe he’ll be off guard.”

“Him?” Harry snorted a laugh and came to a stop as a gaggle of schoolchildren raced across the street, their laughter bubbling in their wake. Sliding a glance at her, the older man said, “I don’t think that man’s ever had his guard down.”

“You don’t know the half of it,” she muttered, keeping her gaze fixed on the passing traffic. Anything to make her mind too busy to dredge up yet another image of J.T. “There’s a first time for everything.”

“Yeah,” he muttered, stepping on the gas again, “and that goes for getting hit by lightning, run down by a car….”

“That’s the spirit,” she said with a laugh.

Harry shook his head as he parked the van. Throwing the gearshift into Park, he cut the engine and slanted her another look. “Spirit’s not going to cut it in this one, Jade. If they don’t want you in the palace, you’re not going to be able to charm your way in.”

She stared through the windshield at the palace gates fifty feet away. Uniformed guards were positioned just outside, and through the iron scrollwork, she saw more guards marching across the compound. None of them looked friendly. But then, they weren’t supposed to, were they?

This was her country, though. As a citizen of Penwyck, she had every right to enter that compound. Heck, she could sign up for a tour and get farther inside than she had yesterday. As that thought occurred to her, Jade’s brain raced with possibilities. It was as though she were in a cartoon and a light-bulb had just clicked on over her head. She could pay for a tour, and then somewhere along the route through the public rooms, she could simply…get lost. If she wandered away from her tour group and just happened to stumble into the royal family’s private quarters, no one could really blame her, right? After all, they didn’t behead people anymore. What did she have to lose?

“Oh,” Harry said softly, “I don’t think I like that look in your eyes.”

“I’m going to get inside the palace today,” she assured the man beside her. “By hook or by crook.”

“And when they arrest us?” Harry asked, his normal gloomy tone even more morose than usual.

Jade turned to look at him. Reaching out, she patted his arm and said, “We’ll ask for adjoining cells.”

“Now that’s real comforting, thanks.”

“Relax, Harry,” Jade said, a slow smile curving her mouth. “When have I ever gotten us in over our heads before?”

“Let’s see…” Harry held up his right hand, ticking off items on his fingers one by one. “There was the time you wanted to do an exposé on the Royal Navy and we got stuck belowdecks of that carrier when she shipped out.”

She waved one hand dismissively. “They found us within hours.”

“Then there was the time you wanted to do an aerial report from a hot-air balloon and you accidentally pulled the string releasing the hot air and we—”

“Made it safely down to earth,” she pointed out quickly. Besides, it had been a great report. She’d had to do outrageous stunts over the last couple of years. Anything to get herself noticed, to stand out from the crowd of pretty faces looking for a shot at success.

He sent her a look from beneath raised eyebrows. “Then there was—”

“Okay,” she said, holding her hands up in mock surrender. There was definitely a downside to having the same cameraman over the years. Especially one with a memory like Harry’s. “You made your point. So, there’ve been a few unfortunate incidents.”

“Unfortunate?”

“We survived.”

“They say God protects fools and drunks.”

She smiled wryly. “Since I don’t drink, I know which category you’re filing me under.”

“Me, too, Jade,” he said. “Though after a shoot with you, I rarely say no to a good, stiff drink.”

“We got the stories though, didn’t we?”

“True.”

“And now we’ve got a shot at the big time.”

His fingers tightened around the steering wheel. “Why are you making such a big deal of this, Jade? Why push for the interview now? Once the king’s better, the queen’ll be more than happy to talk to anyone from the press.”

“That’s why, Harry.” Jade shifted in her seat and leaned toward him. “I have to snag this interview. It’s what I’ve been working toward, waiting for for three years.” This is the chance I gave up my marriage for, she thought, but managed to keep that to herself. “This is my shot at proving to the powers-that-be at the station that I’m more than a fluff reporter. It’s my chance at a co-anchor job.”

She’d served her time on the gossip circuit. She’d done the lost-dog and hero-fireman stories. She’d covered parades and fairs and the opening of supermarkets, all the while telling herself that her time would come. That eventually, she’d have the career that had always been so important to her.

If she didn’t…then she’d failed.

And she’d walked away from J.T. for nothing.

That was something she couldn’t live with.

She unbuckled her seat belt, opened the door and stepped out. Slamming the door behind her, she leaned in the open window.

“I’m going to stop at the gates first. So get the camera. If we can get past J.T., er, Jeremy Wainwright, we’ll do it that way.” She patted the door. “Otherwise, I’ll be signing up for a tour this afternoon.”

“A tour? Oh, I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”

Reaching up, she straightened the lapels of her brown suede jacket, tossed her hair back from her face and gave him one last smile. “Ignore that bad feeling. I’ll meet you at the gates.”

“I’ll be right behind you,” he said, clearly unhappy about the whole thing.

Nodding, Jade walked off, her heels clicking loudly on the leaf-strewn sidewalk as she headed for the palace gates.

Harry looked after her for a long minute, then, shaking his head, moved to get his camera. There was no stopping her, he knew. The best he could do was be close by when the you-know-what hit the fan.

She looked amazing.

Even better than he remembered. And he would have been willing to bet that wasn’t possible.

J.T. watched her approach, not surprised at all that she’d shown up first thing in the morning. The woman had a head like a rock. Of course, that was a personality trait he could appreciate, being fairly hardheaded himself. He’d known yesterday that Jade would be back. She’d never been a woman to give up easily—except, of course, when it came to their marriage.

What a package she made.

That body of hers was enough to tempt a saint right out of heaven. Her hair lifted off the collar of her brown suede jacket and blew softly in the wind. He’d never understood how women could stand wearing high heels, as they looked particularly uncomfortable. But as a man, he was incredibly grateful that women were willing to put up with the discomfort. His gaze swept up her legs, enjoying the view, and when that view ended at the hem of her skirt, he lifted his gaze to hers. Even from a distance, it wasn’t hard to see the glitter of determination in her sea-foam-colored eyes.

Well, she wasn’t the only one who had a job to do, he told himself as he started for the gate. Distracting his ex-wife might not seem like much of an assignment, but he had never been one to question orders, either. So he’d do what Vancour expected of him. After all, no one had to know that he was almost looking forward to butting heads with Jade.

J.T. waved aside the uniformed soldier standing guard and waited for her himself. It didn’t take long.

In seconds, she was standing directly opposite him. Her gaze moved over the elaborate iron gate and paused on the lock before lifting to meet his.

“Morning, J.T.”

He nodded. “Jade.”

She waved one hand at the gate. “I see we’re still at a stalemate.”

“On the contrary,” he said, and had the pleasure of seeing a spark of curiosity light her eyes.

“Really?” she countered. “Because from where I stand, I still seem to be on the wrong side of the gate.”

“Opposite sides, huh? The story of our lives.”

“J.T….”

“Today, at least, that’s easily correctable,” he said, enjoying the suspicion now written across her features. In a few quick moves, he had the gate unlocked and was pushing it open just wide enough for her to slip inside.

But she didn’t.

Eyes wary, she looked from the opening to him and back again before asking, “What’s going on?”

He drew his head back, a look of pure innocence on his face. “Why, Jade. Don’t you trust me?”

“Said the spider to the fly.” J.T. laughed. God, he’d missed her. He’d missed it all. The fights, the loving, the laughter. It had been hard as hell to get to the point where he didn’t miss her every damn minute. Now here he was—about to put himself through the misery all over again.

And he couldn’t wait.

He slapped one hand to his chest. “Jade, honey, you wound me.”

One of her auburn eyebrows lifted in a high arch. “Not without a flamethrower, I’m thinking.”

He laughed again and paid no attention to the soldier standing nearby. Stepping through the gate to the sidewalk, J.T. stopped directly in front of her. In fact, he was so close to her he swore he could feel her heat shimmering around him. He could damn sure smell her perfume. The faint flowery scent surrounded him, slipping inside him to his weakest point and attacking.

She’d probably planned that.

Shrugging it off, he lifted his gaze past her to the older man hurrying up the sidewalk, video camera clutched in his arms like a child.

She followed his gaze. “That’s Harry. My cameraman. You remember him from yesterday.”

“Yeah, I do.” But truth to tell, Jeremy hadn’t really counted on having the cameraman following them around all day. So he’d just have to get rid of the guy. Shifting his gaze to hers, J.T. said, “Look, Jade. I’ve been instructed that I can allow you into the palace grounds. Give you a tour of the private gardens. Show you around a little. But no camera.”

She looked up at him, and he enjoyed the fact that she had to tilt her head far back to do it. His size had always been handy when trying to intimidate. Although it had never bothered her any.

“Excuse me? A tour of the gardens?” she repeated. “What about my interview with Her Majesty? J.T., I did a story on the palace gardens just last month. The people really don’t care all that much if the roses are still blooming.”

“It’s all you get.”

“I nee—want a hard news piece, J.T. And if I don’t get it, the station’ll just send another reporter.”

“Is that a threat?”

“It’s a promise.” She gritted her teeth as she added, “Probably Vince Battle.”

“Barracuda Battle?” Oh, wouldn’t the palace love that? The hard-edged reporter made every interview an exposé. He dug and dug until he uncovered every last bit of dirt there was to find, and what he couldn’t find he invented.

“That’s the one.”

“Perfect.”

“Well, we agree on something, anyway. We’d both rather have me do this.”

“Unfortunately, it’s not up to either one of us.”

With her right hand, she flipped the edge of her jacket back and planted her fist on her hip. She was trying like hell to hold on to her temper, and J.T. sort of admired her for the attempt. Still, he saw the sparks in her eyes and knew his Jade was alive and well. His gaze dropped briefly to the curve of that hip, then lifted slowly to appreciate the way her peach silk blouse caressed her breasts. Damn.

Scraping one hand across his face as if to wake himself up from a lust-induced coma, J.T. looked into her eyes and said, “All right. I can’t promise anything, but I think if you’ll be patient for a couple days…”

“Patient.” She said it as if it were a word foreign to her nature.

As he knew it was. “Give it a shot, Jade. It’s my best offer.”

She didn’t want to be patient. He could see it in her eyes, which were snapping with electricity like a storm at sea. “J.T.,” she said finally, “is this the real deal or did they just tell you to give me the runaround?”

Harry stepped up behind her, but she didn’t turn to look at him. She couldn’t take her eyes off J.T., once her husband, now the king’s pit bull. She wanted to trust him.

“Tours of the palace grounds can be…interesting,” he said, and his voice held a promise of more than just a tour.

But maybe, she told herself as she fought down an urge to fan herself, she was just reading more into his body language and that voice of his than was actually there. Was it all her? she wondered. Was she the only one experiencing flashbacks of better days, happier days? Did he ever remember their too brief but amazing time together?

“So,” he was asking, “do we have a deal?”

“Deal?” Harry demanded. “What kind of deal?”

Jade didn’t glance at him. “No camera?”

“No cameras?” Harry sounded outraged. “This is TV, not radio!”

“That stinks.” Jade looked at J.T., silently daring him to make it stick.

“That’s the deal,” he said. “The private areas of the palace stay private. So what do you say?”

Jade didn’t glance at Harry. She knew what he’d say. The man treated his camera like an appendage. He’d expect to go inside with her. And rightly so. They were a team. On the other hand, wouldn’t it be wise for her to take whatever she could get, here?

She kept her gaze locked on J.T.’s brown eyes as they stared directly into hers. She felt a…connection humming between them, and she wasn’t at all sure what to do about it. For so long she’d wondered what it would be like to meet up again with the man she’d loved so desperately. And now that it had finally happened, there was a cowardly part of her that wanted to run and hide. But she’d run three years ago, and that hadn’t brought her any peace. So this time she’d stand her ground and never let him know that he could still turn her knees to jelly. Now if only she could keep her hormones from zinging to life whenever she was around the man.

But that, she thought with an inward sigh, was a faint hope.

Okay, she’d take his tour. She didn’t have much choice, did she? It was take this deal or go pay her five pounds at the palace tour entrance. And at least with J.T. guiding her through the place, she’d see more than the public rooms and gardens. Plus, she considered, still meeting his gaze squarely, she could always slip away from him as easily as she could from a tour guide.

With that thought firmly in mind, she said, “Harry, go on back to the station. I’ll grab a cab when I’m finished here.”

Harry grumbled, but ambled off.

A moment later, Jade held out her right hand and said sweetly, “It’s a deal, J.T.”

Then his hand took hers and a burst of heat skittered along the length of her arm to shatter in her chest, splintering her veins with a liquid warmth that surprised her.

And by the look in his eyes—her touch had the same effect on him.