“Who—who told you?”
“A man who is actually loyal to me,” King St. Pierre replied. Coldly.
He obviously wasn’t too happy that Aaron had claimed Charlotte—as his fiancée—before the king had even claimed her as his illegitimate daughter and heir.
Aaron’s head began to pound as realization dawned. “This isn’t good...”
“No, it’s not,” the king agreed. “I trusted you and your partner. I believed the recommendations that Charlotte had given you both as exemplary chiefs of security. Yet you two were barely on the job a couple of months before my daughters both went missing.”
“They were not hired to protect me and Gabby,” Charlotte said as she joined them in the king’s den. The guard at the door would have not dared to deny her admittance—even if it wasn’t now common knowledge that she, too, was royalty, she could have easily overpowered the man.
She was that good. And Aaron was so proud that she was his.
“You’re supposed to be resting,” Aaron reminded her. For six months he had been so worried about her, but finding her hadn’t changed his concern for her. If anything, given what she had endured and the baby she was carrying, he worried more.
She shook her head. “I spent nearly six months in bed. That’s more rest than I can handle and retain my sanity.”
The king rose from his chair, all concern now. “But you’ve been through a horrible ordeal—”
“That was not Aaron and Whit’s fault,” she said. “They were hired to protect you . I was supposed to protect Gabby and myself.” Her voice cracked with fear and regret. “I am the one who failed.”
Aaron reached for her, sliding his arm around her shoulders. She was the strongest woman he’d ever met—physically and emotionally. But she was hurting now—for her sister.
“What’s not good?” she asked him.
And, just as they had all thought of him, Aaron couldn’t lie. “Somehow King St. Pierre learned that Gabriella’s pregnant.”
She shook her head. “That’s not possible. I didn’t learn that until after I talked to Aunt Lydia, and I haven’t told anyone but you.”
“And I only told Whit,” he assured her. “But the man who was shooting at her—he would have realized she was pregnant...”
The king slammed his fist into his desk again. “Are you saying that members of my own security team are trying to kill my daughter?”
Charlotte cursed with the vulgarity of a sailor rather than a princess. But then she had only just been identified as royalty. “This is why I wanted you to hire Whit and Aaron,” she said. “Because all of your other security staff were mercenaries.”
The king shrugged. “What is wrong with that? They are ex-soldiers, like Aaron and Whit.”
“Mercenaries are not ex-soldiers,” Aaron said. Because no one was ever really an ex-soldier. “They are still fighting but only now instead of fighting for their country or their honor, they fight for money.”
“So they are easily bought,” Charlotte explained. “And they are only loyal to the person who’s paying them the most.”
The king cursed now and dropped back into his chair as if he weighed far more than he did. His burden of concern and guilt was back—maybe even heavier than before.
“We need to call Whit,” Charlotte said, “and warn him.”
Aaron shook his head and lifted the phone he’d had clamped in his hand. “I’ve been trying. I can’t get a call through to him.”
“Call Lydia at the orphanage,” Charlotte said. “Maybe they’re still there.”
“She won’t pick up, either,” Aaron said.
Both of the royals sucked in little gasps of air and fear.
“But remember the reception is bad down there,” Aaron said, trying to offer them both comfort and hope even as his own heart continued to beat slowly and heavily with dread. “It doesn’t mean that anything has happened.”
Yet.
Would Whit realize before it was too late that the men who’d been sent as his backup
“A man who is actually loyal to me,” King St. Pierre replied. Coldly.
He obviously wasn’t too happy that Aaron had claimed Charlotte—as his fiancée—before the king had even claimed her as his illegitimate daughter and heir.
Aaron’s head began to pound as realization dawned. “This isn’t good...”
“No, it’s not,” the king agreed. “I trusted you and your partner. I believed the recommendations that Charlotte had given you both as exemplary chiefs of security. Yet you two were barely on the job a couple of months before my daughters both went missing.”
“They were not hired to protect me and Gabby,” Charlotte said as she joined them in the king’s den. The guard at the door would have not dared to deny her admittance—even if it wasn’t now common knowledge that she, too, was royalty, she could have easily overpowered the man.
She was that good. And Aaron was so proud that she was his.
“You’re supposed to be resting,” Aaron reminded her. For six months he had been so worried about her, but finding her hadn’t changed his concern for her. If anything, given what she had endured and the baby she was carrying, he worried more.
She shook her head. “I spent nearly six months in bed. That’s more rest than I can handle and retain my sanity.”
The king rose from his chair, all concern now. “But you’ve been through a horrible ordeal—”
“That was not Aaron and Whit’s fault,” she said. “They were hired to protect you . I was supposed to protect Gabby and myself.” Her voice cracked with fear and regret. “I am the one who failed.”
Aaron reached for her, sliding his arm around her shoulders. She was the strongest woman he’d ever met—physically and emotionally. But she was hurting now—for her sister.
“What’s not good?” she asked him.
And, just as they had all thought of him, Aaron couldn’t lie. “Somehow King St. Pierre learned that Gabriella’s pregnant.”
She shook her head. “That’s not possible. I didn’t learn that until after I talked to Aunt Lydia, and I haven’t told anyone but you.”
“And I only told Whit,” he assured her. “But the man who was shooting at her—he would have realized she was pregnant...”
The king slammed his fist into his desk again. “Are you saying that members of my own security team are trying to kill my daughter?”
Charlotte cursed with the vulgarity of a sailor rather than a princess. But then she had only just been identified as royalty. “This is why I wanted you to hire Whit and Aaron,” she said. “Because all of your other security staff were mercenaries.”
The king shrugged. “What is wrong with that? They are ex-soldiers, like Aaron and Whit.”
“Mercenaries are not ex-soldiers,” Aaron said. Because no one was ever really an ex-soldier. “They are still fighting but only now instead of fighting for their country or their honor, they fight for money.”
“So they are easily bought,” Charlotte explained. “And they are only loyal to the person who’s paying them the most.”
The king cursed now and dropped back into his chair as if he weighed far more than he did. His burden of concern and guilt was back—maybe even heavier than before.
“We need to call Whit,” Charlotte said, “and warn him.”
Aaron shook his head and lifted the phone he’d had clamped in his hand. “I’ve been trying. I can’t get a call through to him.”
“Call Lydia at the orphanage,” Charlotte said. “Maybe they’re still there.”
“She won’t pick up, either,” Aaron said.
Both of the royals sucked in little gasps of air and fear.
“But remember the reception is bad down there,” Aaron said, trying to offer them both comfort and hope even as his own heart continued to beat slowly and heavily with dread. “It doesn’t mean that anything has happened.”
Yet.
Would Whit realize before it was too late that the men who’d been sent as his backup
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