The Rebel King

even going to claim credit for 'I told you so.' because I didn't.'

'No, but you thought it. God, I hate it when you're right…' They were almost to the vestibule. She caught his arm to stop him and whispered. 'Nik-am I insane, or did the king-your father-just flirt with me?'

'Oh, you're not insane,' he said drily. 'Although I may be-with jealousy.'

She shot him a sideways look, pretending disgust. 'Now I know where you get it from. You can't help it-it's in your genes.'

Chapter 15

My God,' Rhia whispered, 'I can't believe I'm actually wearing a Givenchy. Me-the former Miss Trailer Park of New Orleans.'

Nikolas didn't comment; he knew how sappy he'd sound if he told her the truth, which was that in his opinion no queen or empress had ever looked more regal. Besides which, if he told her that, he was fairly certain it would only make her mad.

Although, to be truthful, lately he couldn't be certain of anything where Rhia was concerned. Since they'd arrived at the palace, she'd seemed…different. Edgy, nervous…lacking her usual poise and self-confidence.

'Are you sure I look okay in this thing? It's not too…you know…'

He didn't know what to make of her. It was the first time he'd ever known her to be insecure about her appearance. It was also the first time he'd seen her wearing a dress and high heels, and he did know what he'd like to make of that. Take them right off her again, as soon as he could possibly manage it.

He let his gaze slide over her-quickly, which was as much as his libido could stand. 'No, love,' he said gently, 'it's not too…any thing. It's just exactly right.'

'I don't know…it is from the nineteen sixties, after all.' She heaved in a breath, twisting and turning in front of the window in a way that made his mouth go dry as she tried to catch a glimpse of her reflection in the dark glass. She paused to throw him a look of bemusement. 'I still can't believe he let me wear his wife's-Queen Alexis's-your mother's clothes. I'm amazed he'd even still have them.'

'Yes, well I suppose it would be rather difficult to dispose of something like a queen's wardrobe.' Nikolas said drily, and to remove himself as far as possible from temptation, paced to the opposite end of the informal reception room in the king's private chambers, where they'd been left to await his majesty's pleasure. 'It's not as though one can simply drop everything off at the Oxfam shop. I should imagine some will eventually go to a museum.'

She gave a breathy little laugh. 'In the meantime, I'm wearing Givenchy. I feel like…who is it?' She snapped her fingers. 'Audrey Hepburn-Breakfast at Tiffany's. You know-the little black dress?'

He folded his arms on his chest and pretended to give her a critical once-over. Truth was, she did look a little like Audrey Hepburn-from the neck up: Dark hair piled high on her head, exotic eyes and luscious mouth…long, elegant neck. But from there down…from what he could recall, for all her grace and beauty. Audrey on her best day had never had curves like that.

Avoiding the issue, he frowned at his watch, then glanced at the doors that led to the king's inner sanctum. 'Wonder what's keeping our royal host?'

Her eyes jerked to his and her lips parted. The look that came over her face was one he'd never seen before- frightened, even confused. His heart began to pound as he asked hoarsely, 'What? Rhia, what's wrong?'

She shook her head-a quick, erasing motion-and pivoted away from him. 'Nik-it's nothing. I…'

He was at her side in an instant, gripping her arms and turning her to face him. 'It's obviously not nothing. Tell me.'

She gazed at him…opened her mouth. But the words wouldn't come. It's hard…I don't think I can…I'm sorry. She'd never tried to put it into words before-the feeling. The sizzling under her skin, like static electricity…the flashes of something just on the edges of her consciousness that never came into focus…the hum in her head that wasn't quite sound.

She swallowed…took a breath. 'I know this is going to sound…weird. I thought it was just nerves-you know. I'm wearing this dress, having dinner with the king, for God's sake. Anyway, I've been feeling it ever since we came in here. And then, when you mentioned him. I knew what it was. It's…'

'Your sixth sense,' he said quietly. Not mocking, not questioning. The relief that flooded her almost made her knees buckle. And she knew she'd never loved him more than at that moment.

She nodded and clutched at his arms. 'Something's wrong, Nik. Don't ask me how I know. I just do.' She twisted to throw an anguished look at the closed door to the king's private rooms. 'We can't just go barging in there-he's the king. What-'

'Who says we can't?' Nikolas crossed the room in long strides and gripped the ornate brass door handle. He pushed it, then looked at Rhia, who was right behind him. 'It's unlocked. Do you think that's normal?'

'I don't know,' she murmured through rigid jaws. The sizzling was more of a crackling now. she could feel it running along her scalp, lifting her hair. Her chest was tight with the certainty that she needed to get through that door. 'But I think we should find out.'

He nodded grimly. 'I'll go first-'

'Like hell you will. I'm the one with the training here.'

'Look, you don't even have your gun. If anything-'

'Who says I don't?' She lifted up her skirt to show him the Walfher strapped snugly against her thigh. 'Now-are we going to stand here and debate, or open this door?'

He shook his head wonderingly. 'Have I mentioned you're giving me an inferiority complex? Okay…you first, but go low. I'll cover your back. And…maybe you should leave the gun where it is until we know…'

'Right. Ready…let's go.'

Adrenaline surged into her veins as Nikolas pushed down on the handle and silently opened the door; she scarcely felt her feet touching the floor as she slipped through. She was a breath of wind, nothing more. A wide paneled hallway stretched ahead of her…empty. She moved swiftly along it, glancing into open doorways as she went, aware that Nikolas was right behind her, and that what she was looking for was somewhere ahead of her… somewhere close.

And so was danger. She could feel it lurking, like something watching from beyond the firelight…

The Walther lay heavy against her flexing thigh muscle as she crept closer to the end of the hallway. There was only one door left, the one door that wasn't standing open. She approached it like a cat stalking her prey…took her position to the right of the door. Nikolas moved silently to the left side, facing her.

On her nod, he lifted a hand, knocked sharply on the door panel and called out. 'Your Majesty, it's Nikolas. Are you all right in there?'

They waited, frozen, listening to the pounding of their own hearts.

Rhia held up three fingers, and he nodded, then pointed to her skirt and lifted one eyebrow. She shook her head; something told her it wasn't yet time to reveal her hidden ace. She held up one finger, then two, then three.

Again Nikolas gripped the handle and pushed open the door, but this time he managed to slip through before her, effectively shielding her from whatever might be waiting for them on the other side. The irresistible force that was her adrenaline-charged body collided with the immovable object that was his, and as the resulting explosion burst from her lungs in a gasp of helpless fury, she heard a cold, quiet voice.

Vladimir's.

'Come in,' he said pleasantly. 'I've been wondering when you two would decide to join us.'

Nikolas barely heard the words. For those first seconds he seemed to be swathed in a gauzy film that muffled sound, paralyzed muscle and cloaked vision so that he saw the impossible scene before him through a reddish fog: Henry Weston, his father, sitting in an upholstered Queen Anne chair that had been positioned to face the door. Behind him, Lord Vladimir, clean-shaven now, and dressed in black fatigues and beret, holding a handgun with the barrel pressed to the king's temple.

Nik came abruptly back to the moment when he felt Rhia try to slip past him. Catching her arm, he pulled her