Royal Target (6 page)

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Authors: Traci Hunter Abramson

BOOK: Royal Target
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“I hope so,” Garrett agreed, leaning back in his chair.

They continued chatting while Garrett finished his dinner until finally a servant interrupted. “Excuse me, Your Highness. Your father is on the phone and wishes to speak with you.”

Garrett pushed back from the table and smiled at Janessa. “Thank you for joining me.”

Janessa nodded and stood as well. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” She watched him follow the servant out of the room and then stacked the dessert dishes on Garrett’s plate. Moving into the kitchen, she set the dishes on the counter and turned to Patrice. “Thank you again for a wonderful meal.”

With that, she left the kitchen and ascended the stairs to the rooms she would call home for the next five weeks.

Chapter 8

Garrett paced across his sitting room, flipping through the file in his hand. After his conversation with Janessa the evening before, he had asked his father to send him a complete background on her. He had expected to see a simple dossier outlining her various assignments and perhaps an evaluation or two. The thick file in his hand not only surprised him—it intrigued him.

She had been honest with him when she’d summarized her work experience—sort of. She had indeed worked for several months for the State Department, but she had been overly modest about how she had come to the attention of the Central Intelligence Agency.

The important conversation she had mentioned overhearing had actually been that of three men preparing to plant a bomb at the US Embassy in Madrid. Janessa had had the presence of mind to use her cell phone to take pictures of the three men, write down their conversation, and follow them to where they were preparing the explosives. The men had been in the process of moving the bomb when the police had arrived to take them into custody.

The rest of the file was filled with similar incidents. Some were simple undertakings, like recruiting various household staff of high level officials to share information with her or recognizing valuable information in seemingly meaningless conversations. Others were more complicated, like helping the Venezuelan government identify the route Columbian drug dealers were using to ship cocaine into their country.

Janessa’s training with the CIA had been extensive, which explained why she had been assigned to his security detail. Basically, she was a jack-of-all-trades. She had spent nearly a year working in different areas of the CIA, learning about everything from weapons to security.

Even with her file in front of him, he couldn’t quite picture Janessa as an intelligence officer. Then again, he wasn’t accustomed to working with intel officers who were women. The night before, Janessa had followed protocol precisely, yet she had done so with an air of casualness that suggested she might choose to stop at any time. When he had questioned her abilities, she had not seemed the least bit offended, nor had she found it necessary to detail her previous successes.

Her attire at the dinner had been simple and elegant, and several men in attendance had made a point to make her acquaintance. Garrett couldn’t say he blamed them. The highlight of the past several days had been his conversations with Janessa. Not surprisingly, he had awoken this morning with a sense of anticipation at the thought of spending time with her. If nothing else, her company would help break up an otherwise tedious day filled with meetings.

He hoped the press and public would warm up to her the way his guests had the night before. Janessa was beautiful in an understated way, but she was definitely someone who would be remembered after the evening was over. Even the women seemed to like her, surprising considering that Janessa was an American, a nationality occasionally looked down upon by the French.

He read through the file for several more minutes before realizing that his guests the night before might never have been informed of Janessa’s nationality. He looked out the window across the room, staring as he replayed the evening’s events. He remembered hearing her speak with Martino briefly in Italian. Her accent hadn’t been Meridian, but neither was it American. When speaking to Isabel, she had spoken in French, again without a discernable accent. Garrett couldn’t recall her ever speaking in English except to him.

When he came to the part of Janessa’s file that listed her religious preference, he could only smile at the irony. At times he still couldn’t believe that the woman who had been chosen as his fiancée was a member of the church he was determined to join. For a moment he let himself wonder what would happen if their engagement were real. What would his family do if he announced he wanted to marry someone of the Mormon faith, or that he wanted to marry in the LDS temple?

Again Garrett shook his head, reminding himself that this was all an act. For now he had to focus on what mattered most—playing a role that would help keep his family safe.

* * *

The early morning breeze dragged at the ends of Janessa’s hair as she stepped outside onto the terrace. The sun was still low in the eastern sky, and she had not noticed anyone stirring within the chateau walls except for some of the kitchen staff. Though she had considered a morning run on the beach, she wasn’t quite sure if that would be considered acceptable in her situation.

Deciding that a walk was the best she could do at this early hour, Janessa had dressed comfortably in jeans and a button-up cotton shirt. She stood for a moment and took in the view. The Mediterranean glistened beneath the rising sun, and a few boats were already out on the water. She drew a deep breath, amazed that she was standing here in the shadows of the chateau. Even more amazing was that somewhere inside the walls was a prince whom she was beginning to think of as a friend.

The fragrance of jasmine scented the air as Janessa passed by the expansive gardens. She continued to wander away from the chateau, past the gardens and up a well-trodden path. Another more familiar scent lingered as she stepped over the rise. A large white building was situated at the center of the paddocks and fenced pastures that checkerboarded the area. Janessa identified the building as the stables, guessing that it could house at least two dozen horses. Several horses were grazing in the grassy fields behind split-rail fences.

Enchanted by the setting, Janessa closed the distance to the stables, stopping near the door when she noticed a young foal frolicking around his mother. The mare lifted her head from grazing when Janessa rested a foot on the bottom rung of the fence. As though only half interested, the mare slowly walked toward her, the foal close at her heels.

Because the setting seemed to call for it, Janessa spoke in Italian as she ran her hand down the mare’s soft nose. “Aren’t you a pretty thing.” Her laughter rang out when the foal edged closer and nipped at her shoelace. Janessa wiggled her toe, laughing again when the foal startled, running and bucking the length of the pasture.

“That one is afraid of his own shadow.” An elderly man stepped from the stables carrying a bundle of hay under one of his burly arms. He tossed the meal-sized clump of hay over the fence at the mare’s feet.

“I think his mother is happy to have him distracted.” Janessa smiled as the foal cautiously approached her again. She reached out and stroked the soft muzzle, unconcerned when the foal nipped at her shirt.

“You know horses,” the man stated. “You will ride now?”

Janessa turned to him, beaming. “I would love to.”

“The horses need exercise,” he said and extended one of his weathered hands. “I am Paolo Saldera.”

“Gianessa Rogers.” She shook his hand, remembering that Paolo was the father of Enrico, the chauffeur. Though he moved with agility, Janessa guessed that Paolo was past seventy. What little hair he had was snow white, and his face was deeply creased with laugh and worry lines. “Are you done feeding?”

“Just finished.” Paolo nodded. “Come, I’ll show you around, and we’ll find a horse for you to ride this morning.”

Grinning, Janessa followed him inside. The horses were well tended, and nearly all of the stalls were occupied. She thought briefly of her riding boots that were currently in her parents’ attic and decided that her tennis shoes would have to do. Twenty minutes later, Janessa guided her mount down a trail to the east.

She rode over rambling hills through dense trees for nearly an hour before she emerged onto the beach. She glanced back to the west and could see the chateau. A breeze lifted off the water, pleasantly cooling the overly warm morning air. Turning to the east, she studied the naval base in the distance, noticing that the beach was completely deserted as far as she could see.

Impulsively, she turned east and urged her horse into a gallop. She laughed out loud as she met the wind head on, the sand kicking up behind her. Her hair whipped in the wind, and she tasted the sea air even as she urged the gelding beneath her to give her more speed. She hadn’t surrendered to this kind of reckless freedom in years.

As the horse beneath her began to breathe heavily, Janessa slowed to a canter and then finally to a walk. She continued down the beach, edging closer to the naval base. She thought back on her conversation with the director of the CIA. Though she could understand her country’s need for a naval base in this area, she hated the idea of more of these pristine beaches being destroyed to accommodate such an undertaking.

The Meridian naval base was more expansive than she had first imagined, curving around the jut of land to the other side. The docks were well maintained, but many of the buildings stood in various states of disrepair. She glanced back at the beach behind her, perfect except for the tracks her horse had left. An idea began to take shape. Perhaps she could help accomplish what her government needed without asking the royal family to compromise any more land for its defense.

She turned her horse back toward her temporary home and once again enjoyed the freedom and beauty offered where land and sea joined.

Chapter 9

Garrett descended the main staircase, wondering if Janessa remembered their date. Martino had already leaked their plans to the local press to make sure Garrett and Janessa would be noticed while they were together in the village. First they would have lunch at one of the popular restaurants in Bellamo, and then they would take a walk through the shopping district.

He glanced at his watch just as he heard heels clicking on the tile floor. When he looked up, he simply stared. Her thick, flame-colored hair hung down her back in ringlets, and her eyes were an even more vivid green than he had remembered. Her dress was pale blue, falling just below her knees. It was simple in cut and line, nipped at the waist, and had a modest neckline.

“I hope I didn’t keep you waiting,” Janessa apologized as she crossed the entryway. “I’m afraid time got away from me this morning.”

“You’re right on time.” Garrett opened the door and escorted her outside to the waiting limousine.

“Hello, Enrico,” Janessa greeted their driver as she descended the front steps.

“Good afternoon, Signorina Rogers.” Enrico pulled the door open and nodded to Garrett as they approached. “Your Highness.”

As soon as they were settled in the back and Enrico slid into the driver’s seat, Garrett asked, “Enrico, you know where we are going?”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

With a nod, Garrett closed the window between them and turned to Janessa. “I thought we might want to take a minute to talk about our history before we appear in public together.”

“Let’s see.” Janessa shifted in her seat. “We met three years ago when you moved to Washington to attend law school. We then crossed paths several times, first while I was working in Paris and then again when I returned home to the States. And, of course, I saw you in Caracas.”

“And now you’re here at my invitation to attend the gala.”

“One question though,” Janessa began. “What happens when the women you were really dating see our story in print? Won’t they challenge our story?”

Garrett shook his head. “I never dated anyone more than a couple of times while I was in the States.”

“Too many girls impressed with your title?” Janessa asked.

“Something like that,” Garrett acknowledged, relaxing enough to smile. “What about you? Any old boyfriends I need to know about?”

Janessa shook her head. “Apparently I was holding out for you.”

“That’s good to know.” Garrett’s eyes sparkled mischievously as the car came to a stop and the door opened. He stepped out and turned to help Janessa out of the car. He reached for her hand, a little surprised by how natural the gesture felt. Her hand was warm and smooth, and he kept it in his as they crossed the sidewalk to the restaurant.

He noticed the spree of cameras flashing behind them, and he expected that by the time they finished their lunch, the number of reporters outside would double. He had been honest with Janessa about his recent dating expeditions. Most of his socializing during law school had centered around study groups and public functions. Only when protocol demanded it did he bother to mess with individual entanglements. He supposed he could consider this date a result of protocol, but he had to admit that he had been looking forward to this outing all day.

The maitre d’ showed them to a table overlooking the sea. Garrett glanced out the window, appreciating the view of the crisp blue sky over equally blue water. A white sailboat crossed into his view as he took his seat across from Janessa. He wondered how she had remained single for so long. Clearly she was attractive, but beyond that was her intelligence, sense of humor, and, if he wasn’t mistaken, a healthy sense of adventure. Not an easy combination to resist. Then he qualified that thought. Those wouldn’t be easy attributes for him to resist, but some men he knew would find them a little intimidating.

A waiter took their drink order and then left them to study their menus. Garrett glanced at his, deciding quickly what he would order. When he looked at Janessa, he saw her ignoring her menu and instead staring out over the water.

“I can’t get over the view.” Janessa pulled her eyes from the Mediterranean to look at him. “This is the most beautiful place on earth.”

Garrett smiled. “I have often thought so myself.”

Over lunch, conversation flowed easily enough that no one near them would have guessed that they had met just weeks before. Garrett considered broaching the subject of religion, but when the waiter arrived to refill their drinks, he decided that topic would have to wait until the conversation could be just between the two of them.

After they finished their meal, they walked hand in hand through the main shopping district. A window display caught Janessa’s eye, and she pointed with her free hand.

“Do you mind if we go inside?” She motioned to an elegant white afghan in the window. “My sister’s baby is due next month.”

“Of course.” Garrett pulled the door open, trying to recall the details about her family. “You have five siblings?”

“Yes. I’m the oldest.” Janessa nodded. She moved to a display of beautifully crocheted blankets, turning when the shopkeeper approached. Garrett noted the surprise and awe in the shopkeeper’s expression as he greeted them.

“Good afternoon.” He bowed to Garrett before turning to Janessa. “May I help you with something?”

“I was just admiring the workmanship,” Janessa told him. “Are these all handmade?”

The man beamed with pride. “Yes, my wife makes them.”

“She’s very talented.” Janessa fingered a delicately crocheted afghan in pure white. “My sister would love this. I’ll take this one.”

As Janessa moved to the cash register to pay, Garrett stepped forward and put a hand on her shoulder as he addressed the shopkeeper. “Please have it delivered to the chateau, and put it on my account.”

“Of course, Your Highness.”

Janessa started to insist on paying herself, but when she noticed Garrett’s stern look she turned instead to thank the shopkeeper and then let Garrett guide her out of the store. As soon as the door closed behind them, she looked up at him. “Why didn’t you let me pay?”

“It wouldn’t look right,” Garrett told her.

“Oh.” Janessa narrowed her eyes, considering. Then, with a shrug, she fell into step beside him as they started down the sidewalk. “I’ll have to pay you back later then.”

“It’s not necessary,” Garrett said in an offhanded tone.

“Yes, it is,” Janessa insisted.

He didn’t respond, instead slowing when they approached the jeweler. “Perhaps we should stop in here,” Garrett suggested. “After all, we’ll need to shop for a ring at some point in the near future.”

“I guess I never thought about that,” Janessa told him. She glanced at the reporters hovering down the street and noted the position of Garrett’s security. “Though it would make an interesting story—Prince Garrett ring shopping.”

“That’s true,” Garrett agreed as he ushered her inside. He called the jeweler by name, having frequented his store many times before. Of course, most of his previous visits had been at the request of his mother. “Davide, may I introduce you to Janessa Rogers.”

“So pleased to meet you, signorina,” Davide greeted her. “What may I interest you in today?”

“We need an engagement ring, Davide,” Garrett told him, lowering his voice as he added, “A ring fit for a princess.”

Davide’s eyes widened, first with surprise and then with excitement. “Congratulations! Oh, I am so happy for you, Your Highness, signorina.”

Garrett put his hand on Janessa’s waist and guided her to a seat while Davide bustled to gather a selection of diamond rings. What had sounded like a simple venture turned out to be a major production. Davide felt that anything less than five carats was unacceptable, and Janessa thought
that her hands weren’t suited for such a large stone. Garrett settled the matter by choosing a simple, square-cut stone, larger than Janessa would choose for herself but small enough to suit her slight build.

Once the selection was finally made, Garrett stood and instructed Davide to have the ring sized and delivered to him at the chateau. As soon as they were outside, Janessa leaned close and whispered, “The stone really is too big.”

“It suited you,” Garrett said with sincerity.

She looked surprised. “Thank you.”

“Come. Let’s take a walk on the beach.” Garrett led her to an opening in the seawall. He smiled when she instinctively toed off her shoes and carried them in her hand.

“I don’t know how you managed to stay away for so long,” Janessa told him as they approached the surf. “Not having this view after growing up with it must have made law school that much more difficult.”

“Actually, a local artist painted a scene not unlike this one—just a small landscape of the view from my window at the palace. My father commissioned it as a gift for me right before I began my service with our Navy.” Garrett hesitated a moment as he reached down and picked up a seashell from the sand. “Like you, he must have thought that this view was something difficult to live without.”

“Even though I didn’t grow up here, I know I’ll miss it when the time comes for me to leave.” Janessa stared out over the water. Her hair caught in the wind, and for a moment Garrett saw in her face a vulnerability he hadn’t noticed before. She stirred in him a desire to protect, in spite of the fact that she was here to protect him.

He brushed a strand of hair from her face and then took both her hands in his. “Would it be terribly forward of me to kiss you right now?”

Both of her elegant eyebrows lifted as she answered his question with one of her own. “Does the prince often kiss women in public?”

“Princes rarely have private moments.”

“That may be true, but in this case, the only reason you want to kiss me is for your public.”

“You’re mistaken.” Garrett stepped closer. “The press has nothing to do with why I want to kiss you.”

Her eyes clouded with confusion as he took another step toward her. He had intended to keep the kiss brief, but as he pulled her closer, this thought was quickly dismissed. In that moment, he forgot the reporters and cameras and the reasons Janessa was here. Instead he thought only of her.

He drew back, even more confused by his emerging feelings now that he knew how she felt in his arms.

Her eyes were wary, guarded. “I don’t understand you.”

“That makes two of us,” Garrett managed. “Come on. We should get back.”

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