The Princess's Bodyguard

The innkeeper frowned as he looked back and forth from Adele to Matt. “A lovers’ quarrel on your honeymoon? You must not argue. We will be happy to accommodate Mrs. O’Brien’s requests.”

“Thank you,” Adele said. “I have one more request.”

“Certainly,” the innkeeper replied.

“Will you please call the police and tell them that this man has kidnapped me?”

Chapter 3

H oly Moses! Matt thought. He’d have to do something and do it quickly, before Herr Gerwalt had a chance to comprehend and believe the princess’s accusation.

Matt grabbed Adele, hauled her up close to him and grinned sheepishly at Franz Gerwalt. “Such a kidder.” Matt forced laughter. “Always joking around about my kidnapping her because we ran off to get married and her father accused me of kidnapping his baby girl.”

Herr Gerwalt offered Matt and Adele a weak smile. “You Americans. I do not understand your odd sense of humor.”

“I’m not—” Adele said, but before she could complete her sentence, Matt kissed her again.

She bit his lip, then stomped on his foot. Huffing loudly, she turned to the innkeeper. “Don’t you recognize me? I’m—”

Matt swept her off her feet. Literally. This assignment was turning into a royal pain in the butt. If he didn’t have a sore foot, a stinging lip and wasn’t pissed off as hell, he might find humor in the situation. But as it was, he was about two seconds away from strangling the princess of Orlantha.

Turning around so Herr Gerwalt couldn’t see that he’d covered Adele’s mouth with his hand, Matt said, “We’ll just go on up to our room. Thanks for everything.” With a wiggling Adele squirming in his arms, Matt headed for the stairs, then paused. “By the way, I can make a long-distance call from our room using my calling card, right?”

“Yes, yes. Of course.”

“Okay.”

“I’ll see to the fire at once and have those robes brought up to you. And if you need anything else, please—”

“Yeah, thanks.”

The minute Matt reached the second floor of the inn, he bent his head to whisper in Adele’s ear. “Unless you want me to handcuff you to a chair and gag you again, then I suggest you behave yourself. Do I make myself clear?”

She glared at him, her big brown eyes narrowed to angry slits. She ceased squirming but didn’t respond to his warning.

He made his way down the corridor, looking for room 204, which turned out to be the third door on the left. After readjusting Adele in his arms, he inserted the key in the lock and opened the door. He switched on the lights in a quaint room, filled with what he assumed were European antiques. The low ceiling, small windows and heavy, dark furniture exuded an old-world charm. After closing and locking the door, he set Adele on her feet but kept a tight rein on her and continued holding his hand over her mouth.

“What’s it going to be, Your Highness? Are we doing this the easy way or the hard way?” He looked her right in the eyes. “Are you going to cooperate and act your part as the blushing bride? Are you going to be a good girl?”

She nodded agreement. Matt eased his hand away from her mouth.

They stared at each other. Matt grinned. Adele frowned.

Matt manacled her wrist and dragged her across the room with him, straight toward a door he figured was the bathroom. After opening the door and finding the light switch, he shoved her inside the tiny bath that had one small window above the old bathtub. Thick lace curtains blocked out the night sky.

“Take off your wet things, and as soon as the maid brings our robes, I’ll throw one in here to you.”

Adele nodded, but when she started to close the door, Matt stuck his foot in the narrow opening. “Leave it partially open,” he told her, pushing it open halfway.

“If you think that I’m going to undress in front of you, then you had better think again.”

“Get real, honey, you aren’t my type,” Matt said, then when he saw the serious expression on her face, he grinned. “I thought you royals were used to having people dress and undress you.”

“I have a lady’s maid. But I can assure you that I am not accustomed to undressing in front of men, certainly not a man who is a total stranger to me.” She clicked off the light in the bathroom.

Matt turned around, putting his back to her. “I won’t look. I promise. But do not close that door.”

“Why? What do you think I’m going to do, escape through the drainpipes?”

“I wouldn’t put it past you to give it a try.” His shoulders quivered as he chuckled silently. He could barely keep from laughing out loud.

“Has anyone every told you that you’re obnoxious?” Adele asked.

With his back still to her, he responded, “No, ma’am. People usually tell me that I’m smart, good-looking, fun to be with, loyal, good-humored—”

Adele huffed loudly. “Obnoxious and conceited!”

Matt chuckled. A loud knock at the door gained his attention. He glanced over his shoulder toward the half-open bathroom door and caught sight of a slender, naked shoulder, part of a naked back, a round hip covered with silk panties and a long naked leg. He sucked in a deep breath. Holy Moses! He snapped his head back around before the princess caught him spying on her.

“You behave yourself,” he told her. “That’s probably the maid at the door with our robes.”

“Please, let her in,” Adele said. “And ask her to prepare a fire in the fireplace. Also, make sure she’s remembered my extra pillows and—”

“I thought you were kidding. Damn, you really are a spoiled brat, aren’t you?” Matt muttered the last sentence under his breath as he opened the door.

“Güten abend. Wie sind Sie?” the maid said good evening and asked how they were, then she continued speaking to Matt in her native German, which he struggled to understand because the gray-haired, middle-aged woman spoke rapidly. He caught several words. Honeymoon. Robes. Pillows. Something about being wet. And he understood the word for fire.

She handed him the white terry cloth robes, then laid the two fluffy goose down pillows at the foot of the canopied four-poster bed. Matt eased sideways toward the bathroom and tossed one of the robes to Adele, who stood behind the door. She caught it in midair.

“Did she bring—”

“Two extra pillows. And she’s building the fire now.”

“May I come out? I have on my robe.”

“Just wait until she leaves,” he told Adele. “No point in being tempted to tell the maid—in German this time—that I’ve kidnapped you.”

Adele pushed open the door and stood in the doorway. Matt allowed himself a quick perusal. Why couldn’t this woman have been as homely as her fiancé? Why did she have to be so damn pretty? And small, delicate and well-rounded? He looked away hurriedly.

The maid rose from where she had knelt on the hearth, smiled at Matt and said something about dinner. She must have asked him if they wanted dinner served in their room.

“Want some dinner, honey?” Matt asked.

“She didn’t bring the brandy I requested, did she?”

“Do you or do you not want something to eat?”

“May I put in an order for both of us?” Adele asked. “That is if you trust me not to—”