Royal Rescue. Tammy Johnson

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Royal Rescue - Tammy Johnson


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FOURTEEN

       FIFTEEN

       SIXTEEN

       Dear Reader

       Extract

       Copyright

       ONE

      It was easy to get lost in a crowd. Years of hiding had taught her that.

      Thea James had gotten quite good at it, too. Her life had become a montage of staying one step ahead, never remaining in one place very long, keeping people at arm’s length. That was the part she disliked the most—never getting too close.

      Two things had gotten her through the past fourteen years of loneliness. The first and most important was her faith. The other was this day.

      Her brother, Leo, was to meet her here. Meeting once a year was the one risk they took that neither could go without, and this remote Missouri city was a central location for both of them.

      She checked her watch, hoping it would show she was early. They always timed it just right—5:00 p.m. in front of the courthouse. Surrounded by people all in a hurry to get home to warm houses and home-cooked meals, they could go unnoticed. For a few blissful, irreplaceable moments they could be themselves once again.

      Thea adjusted the ball cap on her head, making sure her hair was still tucked up neatly beneath its worn edges. She pulled her oversize winter coat tighter and glanced around, searching for the matching cap her brother said he’d wear so she could spot him more easily. A gust of freezing wind blew against her. The icy chill in the air reached through her skin, grabbing her heart.

      People bustled around her. Most of them had their heads down, scarves draped in front of their faces to protect against the biting wind. No one gave her a first glance, let alone a second, but still she sensed it.

      Something was wrong.

      Her fingers tightened around the medallion in her pocket. The raised family crest on its surface had nearly worn smooth from the many times she’d rubbed her fingers over it. It was all she had left of her family. Her past life faded away more and more every day into something that felt less like a memory and more like a dream. Ever since the attack at the safe house last week she’d been on edge. Every loud noise reminded her of gunfire, and every stranger was someone who might mean her harm.

      But this was more than nerves.

      She took a deep breath and whispered a quick prayer for strength.

      The hair spiked on the back of her neck as a voice spoke behind her.

      “Come with me.” The words were spoken so low for a brief moment she thought she’d imagined them, that the wind had merely carried a memory to her. A firm hand grasped her elbow and she jerked around to face a man wearing a red cap identical to hers. But he was neither a memory nor her brother.

      Her eyes darted around her, checking the escape route she’d planned earlier.

      “That’s not a good idea.” He spoke as if sensing her intent to run. His voice was soft and steady with a warm whisper of empathy. “You really don’t want to attract attention. Do you?”

      Thea glanced up into the brightest blue eyes she’d ever seen. An eyebrow arched as he studied her, waiting for a reply. Deep in his eyes she saw a hint of compassion. But if she’d learned nothing else these past few years, she’d learned compassion could be faked. He was right in thinking she didn’t want to make a scene, but if he thought she’d just stand here and meekly do as he asked, he thought wrong.

      “The way I see it, you are far more likely to gain attention if you try to stop me,” she said.

      His grip tightened on her arm. Her eyes flew to his fingers—long and manly, they held her with a firm, confident grip.

      “Maybe, but do you really want to put your theory to the test?” He tugged her against him as he spoke. Even through the layers of his heavy winter coat, she could feel his strength, sense his controlled power.

      Her mind raced with options. She could scream. She could take the chance that somewhere in the hustle of the few people still leaving the building there would be one Good Samaritan who would come to her aid. There was a chance she’d be able to slip away unnoticed during the rescue attempt. There was also a chance she wouldn’t. Judging by the determined look deep in his steely blue eyes, he wouldn’t give up easily. Any do-gooder from the small town wouldn’t stand much of a chance against him.

      “I could scream and have a police officer here within minutes.”

      Despite the bluster of her words and thoughts, she stood frozen in compliance. Obedience had for such a long time been her first instinct. Everyone had always told her where to go, when to be still, when to run. She was good at running. But she was tired.

      “That would be foolish and waste time.” He held her tightly against him, barely giving her space to breathe. “Time is something we don’t have an abundance of right now. Trust me. I’m here to help you.”

      Part of her wanted to believe him, but she didn’t.

      “I don’t need help.” She was here to meet her brother, not this man. She raised her chin and met his gaze. It had taken her a few years to discover she had a backbone. It had taken even longer to learn how to use it. “Especially not the sort of help that involves grabbing me and nearly yanking my arm off.”

      “I can’t help you if you run. If I let go of your arm, we both know that’s what you’ll do.”

      “You must have me confused with someone else.” The alarm bells that had been going off in her head resounded even louder. “As I said, I don’t need your help.” Slowly she jiggled her shoulder just enough to let the weight of her bag slide the strap down her arm.

      “Whether you realize it or not, you do. You need to come with me.” His unwavering gaze steadied on her and she stiffened, worried he sensed her intent. “Now,” he added in a firm tone, his breath a cloud of frosty, minty air between them.

      “What I need is for you to let go of me.” She tugged against his hold on her arm.

      His grip held firm.

      “You are Princess Dorthea Elizabeth Jamison, aren’t you?”

      A prickle of unease raced up her spine. He knew who she was. In the past that had rarely been a good thing.

      When she didn’t deny or confirm his question, he continued.

      “My name is Ronin Parrish. Your brother sent me.” He took his eyes off her for a second, skimming their surroundings as if looking for something or someone. “We need to go. We’ve already stayed here longer than we should have.”

      Fear swept through her. Her brother wasn’t coming.

      Leo would never have stayed away willingly, and he would never have given up her location, despite what this man might say. After all these years, the people who had killed her father had finally come after her, killing her bodyguard in the process. They must have gone after Leo, as well. Whoever this man was, he knew far more than he should. The fact that he was here and not her brother could mean he had a part in keeping him away.

      It could also mean he was telling the truth. But that was not a risk she was willing to take. She shook the thoughts of her brother away and dug deep for the strength she knew God had given her. She would have time later to deal with the emotions flooding her


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