“Her place is private, secluded. No one knows about it. And it’s secure to the hilt.”
“Way to bury the lead.” London rattled off the security code, and I punched it in and drove us into the long drive. Once the gate receded behind us, it rolled back out, and I noticed the electrical panels at the security gate. “What you’re telling me is those things go hot when you say they should?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know everything about her security, but she told me I’d be able to stay here and feel safe.”
Interesting. Had she known she’d need to feel safe before the bullets had flown? “I hope she has a manual for this place.”
Chapter 9 London
The princess and the protector
I had never been so relieved to reach a destination in my life. I knew I wasn’t being dramatic. Being locked in the car with Kannon for two solid hours only made me relive every second of that kiss. Pure torture.
Especially as he hadn’t said a word about it. Not one. I kept waiting for him to say something, anything. Instead, he was perfectly comfortable not addressing what had happened.
If he could pretend nothing had happened, well, so could I.
It helped that I had more important things to worry about. Someone had tried to kill me. Twice. They tried once and then came back around to make sure that I was dead. At least that’s the best I could come up with. I needed to talk to Roman again. Maybe he’d found out something that could explain what the hell was going on.
Aunt Rebecca had said there were people who were looking to take the crown from him, from us, but would they resort to murder? And hello, I was hardly in line to rule. Roman would eventually recover from the loss of Kissa, and he would marry. It would just take time. And then both Breck and Wilder were ahead of me. I was basically a commoner. Why anyone would care what the hell I did or if I had a child was beyond me.
You heard it with your own ears. You have a year to have a baby, or the royal line changes.
I hoped to God my aunt was being dramatic, but she’d had real fear in her eyes. My father’s sister had looked out for us since our parents died. She’d always been there. Always guiding.
Roman had been so young. Only twenty-two. When most men his age were sowing their wild oats and making mistakes, he’d been left to run a country. And the rest of us, well the rest of us were just unruly. The boys were the worst, of course. No one wanted me to be like Princess Stephanie of Monaco, so I had been reared with firmer hands. But I was still independent as hell.
If there was real danger, Breck would have been all over it. He would have been the first to warn me. No, my brothers didn’t know when they helped me escape. As soon as we were settled, I needed to find a phone and call them.
As we pulled up to Rian’s house, even my jaw went slack. I was used to her Paris flat. While well-equipped and gorgeous, and spacious for Paris, it was still Paris. Comfortable, but not overly roomy. Not like this. This was like something you’d see out of a James Bond film or some Malibu estate.
There was a piece of architectural art on top of the roof. It looked like a giant platinum wonton. I remember her telling me that when she’d built this place, she wanted a serene yoga retreat. Was it up there? I was a sucker for green spaces, but I couldn’t see anything outside of the gate really. But that giant wonton, that was visible. As was the whole top floor of the home.
When I told Kannon the code Rian had given me, he typed it in, and the massive metal gate swung inwards. Inch by inch, as the gate revealed more of the yard, more of the property, I gasped. Kannon just cursed under his breath and gave a low whistle. “Wow. This is…something else.”
“I have to say even I’m surprised. When Rian said she had a place outside of the city too, if I preferred, I didn’t realize it would be something like this. I really thought I’d stay with her in Paris.”
Nothing was going as I’d thought, but it wasn’t as if I had a real plan. Only to run from royal decrees I had no part of until my brother could figure it out. I hated the fact that I couldn’t do it myself. But I’d find a way. I could be my own savior.
I refused to look at Kannon.
He’s saved me. More than once.
I hated that I couldn’t do it myself.
The gates opened to a sprawling massive green that was perfectly maintained and cut. There were patterns cut into the grass. I couldn’t tell what they were from our vantage point, but there was clearly a pattern there. The drive was long and wound up to the house. And as we drove, I could see that there were several structures behind the main house.
We parked outside the garage, and then Kannon took a call. When I stepped out of the car, eager to grab a bag, I frowned. I had no bag. I had on Kannon’s shirt and a pair of panties. And my shoes. At least, I had my bloody shoes. I hadn’t thought to ask if I should ditch them or not. But surely, they were fine. They were just a pair of ballet flats. Completely innocuous.
With nothing to grab or carry, I strolled up to the front entrance, marveling at the bougainvillea and the roses scenting the air. They were gorgeous. Her landscapers were impeccable and amazing. I could see on the side
