Romancing The Crown: Drew and Samira. Eileen Wilks
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half brother had been jealous because Lorenzo lived in the palace, while Desmond had to settle for a house on the grounds. Now that Lorenzo was married, he’d casually relinquished what Desmond wanted so fiercely, preferring the privacy of a separate dwelling.
Drew doubted that the move had done anything to ease Desmond’s envy.
Lorenzo’s new wife, Eliza, let Drew in and showed him into the study, then withdrew discreetly.
Lorenzo was sitting at his desk with a map of the palace grounds spread before him, anchored at the corners by a book, a half-full decanter, a chunk of quartz and a .9-mm pistol. ‘‘If you’d like some brandy,’’ he said without looking up, ‘‘the glasses are on the credenza.’’
Brandy sounded entirely too civilized. ‘‘Not now,’’ Drew said, sitting in the chair across from his cousin. Lorenzo had been pressed for time that morning. He’d briefed Drew quickly on what they knew about Rose Giaberti, and he’d given him some instructions. Tonight Drew meant to learn more—and make a few suggestions of his own.
‘‘I hadn’t expected to see you back quite so early.’’ There was a gleam of amusement in Lorenzo’s dark eyes.
‘‘If you’re expecting regular reports on my sex life, you’re doomed to disappointment.’’
Lorenzo leaned back in his chair. ‘‘No. I wasn’t expecting you to be this prickly, either.’’
He hadn’t even kissed her good-night. She’d been angry when she learned he was taking her to the palace and on her guard when he took her home. That was one of the reasons for his restraint. There were others—he preferred not to do the expected. Her aunt had been waiting for her behind the yellow door at the top of those stairs. He wanted her to trust him, and quick, hot sex wasn’t the way to build trust.
But those reasons were garbage. He knew that, just as he knew that, wary or not, she’d wanted his kiss. But he remained unsure of his real reason. ‘‘Have you any evidence that a cell of the Brothers of Darkness remains intact here? Any names you can give me, descriptions, anything like that?’’
‘‘I’m afraid not. There were indications in the records we recovered after the raid on their headquarters that there had been a cell in Montebello at one time. Nothing to identify its members. We don’t even know for sure it still exists, though the bombing at the airport makes that seem likely. If so, it’s operating on its own now.’’
‘‘I don’t think she’d have anything to do with the Brothers.’’
‘‘You’ve reached that opinion based on one evening? An evening spent in the company of others?’’ He shook his head. ‘‘I don’t see how even you could have coaxed any confidences from her in between salad and chicken piccata.’’
‘‘Logic,’’ Drew said dryly, ‘‘is sometimes more useful than waiting for people to tell me secrets. First, the Brothers are exclusively male. Their beliefs about women wouldn’t allow them to admit a woman to their councils. At most she might be a friend or lover of one of the terrorists, but that doesn’t fit. This isn’t a woman who would waste time on a man who wanted to put her in purdah.’’
Lorenzo gestured impatiently. ‘‘People kill for love, for money, for more twisted or obscure reasons—hatred, revenge, even social advancement. We can’t assume she has no reason to cooperate with the Brothers just because we don’t know what it is. She could be part of some other group that’s climbed in bed with them for their own reasons.’’
‘‘If that’s the case, why isn’t she dead?’’
‘‘Because she tipped us off about the bomb, you mean? Trust me, that has occurred to me. She’s being watched. But it’s possible they don’t know who called in the tip.’’
Drew drummed once, twice, on the arm of the chair. ‘‘Your Captain Mylonas detained her for questioning at the airport, then took her to the police station. If the Brothers are too stupid to figure out what that means, they aren’t much of a threat.’’
‘‘Please. Mylonas is not one of my men, which he made quite clear. The idiot wouldn’t turn her loose until I persuaded his superior to override him. As to why she’s still alive…you have to remember that we’re dealing with a small, isolated remnant of our old enemy. The Brothers had resources in terms of arms, information and men that these people lack. They may not have enough men to risk exposing one of their number by trying to kill her right now. They’ll know we’re watching her.’’
It was some consolation. Drew’s heart was pounding too hard, and there was no reason for it. None. He steepled his fingers. ‘‘It’s also possible that she isn’t tied to the Brothers in any way. I’m going to proceed on that assumption.’’
Lorenzo’s eyebrows snapped down. ‘‘You want to tell me why?’’
‘‘Because that’s the most useful assumption for me to make.’’ Not because he found it impossible to believe otherwise. Though that was true, it was subjective and proved nothing. ‘‘I won’t be much help if she’s connected to the Brothers. She isn’t going to open up to me about that. But if she heard or saw something she wasn’t supposed to, she might have decided to use this psychic nonsense as a way of tipping you off without admitting she can identify one of the Brothers.’’
‘‘I see what you mean. She’d be afraid of what they would do to her if she identified one of them. But she may trust you enough to tell you the truth.’’ Lorenzo nodded. ‘‘All right. You work with your assumption, but don’t forget that’s all it is. Watch yourself.’’
‘‘Of course. You want to tell me why you had me bring her to the palace tonight?’’
‘‘Because I’m hoping like hell your assumption is wrong.’’ Lorenzo stopped suddenly, as if mastering whatever emotion had his jaw so tight. ‘‘We had another tip.’’
‘‘And?’’
‘‘There may be an attempt on the prince’s life at the Investiture.’’
‘‘Holy hell.’’ The Investiture was a centuries’ old ritual in which the king officially named his heir, who was then installed by the island’s elected body as the Crown Prince. ‘‘If they smuggle in another bomb…’’
‘‘They could wipe out most of the government.’’
Drew sat in bleak silence a moment, absorbing the implications. ‘‘How reliable was your tip?’’
Lorenzo shrugged. ‘‘Hard to say. It came from a petty criminal who sometimes turns informant. His information has been reliable in the past, but he’s never given us anything of this magnitude before.’’ Lorenzo paused. ‘‘He’s since disappeared.’’
‘‘Dead?’’
‘‘Or gone into hiding. The information he gave my man was vague. We’re trying to corroborate some of it. No luck so far, but it’s early yet.’’
‘‘You’ve told the king, I assume. He intends to go through with the ceremony?’’
‘‘I tried to talk him into postponing it. He refused. He’s convinced it’s necessary to hold the ceremony as soon as possible, both to secure the succession and as a symbol for the people. Hell, he may be right. My job, as he pointed out, is to make sure he can do his job.’’
That sounded like his uncle. ‘‘And the prince?’’
‘‘Lucas knows. The queen hasn’t been told.’’
‘‘I still don’t see why you had me invite Rose to the palace tonight.’’
‘‘Like I said, I’m hoping your assumption is wrong. If she’s one of them and seems to have easy access to the palace—to the prince—they may decide to make their attempt through her. It’s easier to guard a single, known quantity than