Romancing the Crown: Nina & Dominic. Lyn Stone
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it?” Ryan demanded. But he wasn’t all that surprised. “Franz Koenig,” he guessed.
It ticked him off that the king would think it necessary to recruit a spy from the team. Of course, it was entirely possible someone here had called within the last hour and asked for an update on the forensics. Lorenzo, probably. Franz would be duty-bound to give it. That scenario was much more believable than Franz as a spy, Ryan decided.
“You must not be upset that we insist upon keeping informed.”
The royal we? A not-so-subtle reminder of who was boss here. Ryan shrugged and smiled. “Not upset, Your Majesty. It’s just that I came to tell you myself and Franz stole my thunder.”
The king smiled back as he reached for the solid-gold fountain pen and opened the leather folder in front of him. “Nina Caruso will remain until we have all the answers. Go and find them.”
Ryan had no choice but to accept the dismissal. He ducked his head in his usual salute and turned toward the door. Damned if he’d bow and back out of the room.
“One further word with you, my friend.”
The deep commanding voice halted Ryan in his tracks, his hand on the gilded door handle. He turned, looking in question at the head of state. “Yes, Your Majesty?”
“We have every confidence in your skills and your objectivity. Keep Nina Caruso close to you in the event your current assumptions are correct and there is indeed a threat to her. Keep her very close.”
Ryan met the king’s unwavering gaze with one just like it. “And also in the event that my assumptions are wrong.”
“How better to judge?”
* * *
As Ryan made his way down the long hall leading from the royal offices to the enormous entry foyer, he mulled over all the king had said. And not said. He slowly realized that the sly old fox no more believed Nina Caruso was guilty of anything than Ryan did. This obviously was a smoke screen to hide the real reason the king wanted Nina to stay in Montebello. Hard to figure what that might be at this point.
At any rate, Ryan had no choice but to do exactly what the king advised—commanded, rather—and keep her as near as he possibly could. Her safety was paramount, as important to him now as solving the case. Maybe more so.
That didn’t say much for his dedication to the job. And this job had been his whole life for years now. It was what sustained him, gave him purpose and prevented his sliding back into that pit he’d climbed out of.
No matter what the king had said, Ryan knew his professionalism and his objectivity were at stake here. Keeping his hands off of Nina took up too much of his energy and concentration. Another excellent argument for sending her away. But that wasn’t going to happen now, so he would just have to deal with it.
Somehow, he had to find a way to distance himself even while keeping her within reach at all times. How the hell was he supposed to do that?
Nina hurried toward the grand staircase, her high heels clicking on the beautifully veined marble. She had made it halfway there when a large hand closed around her arm. Oddly enough, it did not surprise her all that much to find herself staring into the furious blue-gray eyes of Ryan McDonough.
After all, the possibility of running into him was the reason she was in such a hurry. If only she hadn’t taken the time to interview those two guards, she might have made it upstairs to the residential wing before he finished his business in the royal office. Without a doubt he would object to what she was doing just because it was her idea and not his.
His long, strong fingers burned right through the sleeve of her beige linen suit. Every time he touched her, apprehension swept through her like fire in her veins. Not that he frightened her physically. Her own reaction to him as a man was what caused her fear. She worried what she might do if his touch gentled again as it had last night. No danger of that at the moment, she thought with a sigh. Right now he looked livid.
Though he wasn’t hurting her, she knew better than to resist his grip. Maybe if she didn’t act as guilty as she felt, he wouldn’t frog-march her out of here like a prisoner. Nina smiled her friendliest smile. “I take it the audience with the king is over?”
“What the hell are you doing here?” His voice, though he kept it low, seemed to echo in the cavernous entry.
Nina knew he was about to read her the riot act for leaving the lab when he’d ordered her to stay put. She decided to brave it out rather than cower. “Asking questions. Something you—” she accused, poking him in the chest “—have obviously been neglecting to do around here!”
He grabbed her finger and removed it from the indentation her nail had made in his tie. “And how would you know what I’ve done or not done?”
“I asked!” she hissed. “The two people I’ve spoken with already were very eager to help. I’m on my way to request an interview with the princesses’ staff.”
“Oh, no you’re not,” Ryan assured her. “Even you have to observe protocol.”
He started for the main entrance, still clutching her upper arm. She had no choice but to follow or be dragged. “So make an appointment!”
“I have. Now shut up and come on!”
“Where?” she demanded, taking two steps to his every one in order to keep up.
“Out of here before you get yourself shot. How’d you get past the guards?”
Nina hated to tell him, but she knew he wouldn’t let it go. He’d be reaming someone out about lack of security. “Well… I showed my ID, told them I was Desmond’s sister and, uh, that I had your permission.”
“Damn,” he muttered, shaking his head. He glared at the nice young guards with the big holstered weapons and all but shoved Nina through the doors leading outside.
He glanced around. “How did you get here? Taxi?”
She nodded, almost tripping in her attempt to match his haste as he ushered her around the arts wing to the parking lot to his car.
“How did you know I was here?”
Her smile was smug. “Saw the number you left Franz. Public Affairs office, the same one I called after I arrived at the airport yesterday. You came here to see the king and get me kicked on a plane, didn’t you?”
“Yes.”
Only when they were out of the palace grounds and he was occupied driving through the noon day traffic did Nina risk a question. “So, what did the king have to say about it?”
He shot her a dark glance, then trained his eyes on the street again. “Trust me, you don’t want to know.”
Nina bridled. “Don’t be an ass, McDonough. Apparently it didn’t work, since you’re so mad.”
“When do you collect on your brother’s insurance?”
She frowned at the abrupt change of subject. “What?”
“Have you made the claim yet?”
Nina almost laughed. “You’ve got to be joking! There’s no insurance.”
“A policy for half a million, all paid up, plus the capital in the trust fund that paid the premiums,” he snapped.
She was astounded. “How could… But that couldn’t possibly… I know nothing about anything like that! Who—?”
“Don’t play dumb, Nina. Your father insured you both and made certain the premiums were taken care of.”
She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose, trying to ward off the headache that was rapidly growing to gigantic proportions behind her eyes. “I swear I didn’t know. There was nothing like that in Dad’s papers after he died.”
“And