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“We lost a man.” He passed on the news and reached for Rayne’s hand, held it for a brief second before she pulled it back.
No more information was coming through his headset, the line was quiet. He wanted to ask of the damage to the building, but how could he do that? To Tamas, the damage was absolute. He had lost a brother. Benedek gave thanks to God that his brothers had been late to the performance, that they would be spared whatever was going to happen.
As long as they were smart enough to stay away. Unfortunately, knowing his brothers as he did, he highly doubted that.
“Ceiling caved in here,” Tamas reported after a while, his construction-trained mind probably surveying even without conscious effort on his part. “Some walls collapsed, but all the load-bearing walls are still standing. No major damage to the structure. No breach in the outside wall to get us out of the place.” He paused. “I’m going to stay here for a few more minutes. ”
To say goodbye. “Take all the time you need,” Benedek said.
The siege of the opera house had its first victim. He wasn’t optimistic enough to believe that the man had also been the last.
A MAN HAD DIED.
It brought everything into sharp focus, making their situation even more frighteningly real. Rayne followed Benedek back to the security office where he was supposed to meet the others.
“How did you know they were going to detonate the bomb?” The way he’d been running for cover, it was as if he’d known exactly what was going to happen.
“They gave us an ultimatum.”
“Which was what?”
They were heading up the stairs. The prince remained silent.
“What ultimatum?”
He said nothing.
A man waited for them at the office door. Benedek introduced him as the director of security. Rayne wasn’t impressed.
“What do the protesters want?” she asked without preamble, in a voice that told the guy that she expected a clear and honest answer.
“Right now, they want you, Madam.” The man cast a nervous glance at the prince.
The words left her speechless.
“You’re not going anywhere,” the prince reassured her immediately.
Which was exactly what she’d been thinking, but she would have liked to be the one to decide that. “What on earth would they want with me?” She had no connection to this country, none whatsoever.
The prince explained with some reluctance.
A hostage. So they could get away after they killed him. And he was so insanely calm. Youth. It had to be that. He just didn’t comprehend how much danger he was in. Then again, he didn’t seem like a man who missed much. He had keen, sharp eyes that shone with intelligence. And desire if he looked at her for more than a second. She so did not want to have to deal with that.
And she wouldn’t have to if the rebels took her as a hostage so they could kill him.
She had to sit down. The folds of her gown draped over the chair, nearly making it disappear under the billowing material. Her brain chugged along at a snail’s pace.
He was to be killed.
“Hell of a country,” she said to herself.
“The best in the world.” Benedek’s eyes flashed. “Which doesn’t mean that we don’t have a few malcontents.”
“Odd, but I don’t recall civil unrest and murderous tendencies being mentioned in my pre-trip briefing. Must have missed a page,” she snapped, angry at the whole situation and that he would defend the very people who tried to kill him.
“You’ll be safe,” he promised, his tone instantly milder.
Men were coming into the room—the royal guard. A cell phone rang in Benedek’s pocket. Small and red, she saw when he took it out, handling it as if it were a poisonous snake. Tension immediately doubled as everyone held their breath.
The prince answered the call and listened. “She needs a little more time. She’s almost ready.” He pulled the phone away from his ear. “We got ten more minutes.”
“Freezer?” she asked.
“Not enough room for everyone,” he said.
The director touched his headset and spoke into it. “Tamas? Are you there?” He waited a few seconds as more royal guards came in.
Thirteen people were in the room now. Tamas was the only one missing.
“Tamas? Do you need help?” the director asked, then said after a short pause. “There’s no response.”
“The security cameras are out in that corner of the building since the explosion,” a guy sitting by the row of monitors said. They all spoke English, albeit with various accents, probably as a courtesy to her.
“I’ll go over there and see if he needs anything.” Another man got up to leave.
“We’ll all go.” Prince Benedek looked around at the people in the room. His bodyguard was scowling, but nobody questioned Benedek’s authority. She couldn’t imagine they would, and not because he was a prince. The man had a powerful presence and the aura of a leader. “It might be the safest place yet,” he went on. “The bomb in that section already exploded. Who knows where the others are?”
It made terrifying sense.
One of the older guards, Vilmos she thought his name was, protested some more that the prince should stay in the security office with some guards, but Benedek overrode him.
They trooped down the stairs then, through deserted hallways. The prince kept close to her. She found that she didn’t mind.
In a minute or two, they could see the first signs of damage, cracked walls and floor tile, then, as they turned the corner, the gift shop came into view. The ceiling had collapsed, wires hung from the wall, everything was covered in dust and rubble. It was the first visual they got of what that bomb had done, and it painted a scary future.
A body lay propped against one wall.
“Peter.” The director hurried over.
“Tamas.” The prince was ducking behind a chunk of busted wall.
She followed him and saw a man down just as the prince bent to check for a pulse. His face held so much cold anger that she drew back.
“What happened to him?”
He moved away, and she could see the bloodstain on the man’s shirt. Small cut, big stain.
“Knife wound,” someone spoke from behind her, and her head reeled.
The prince looked over the small group, even as his bodyguard moved closer to him. “Nobody goes anywhere on their own. They have a man in the building somewhere.”
He meant the rebels had a killer in the building. She glanced around, surprised at how well everyone else was taking the news. Meanwhile, her heart was racing so fast she could barely catch her breath.
Dark thoughts chased each other inside her head. The rebels didn’t trust their bombs one hundred percent. They had a backup plan, insurance, someone on the inside who could take out their small group, one by one if necessary, until he got to the prince.
“We’ll stay together,” Benedek was saying, taking control again. “We’ll be fine.”
But something told her they wouldn’t be.
They were trapped in a building rigged with some serious explosives.
And they were being hunted.
Chapter Three (#ulink_a1f950de-7fa0-5bfd-b5e8-969102e551ce)
“Have you looked out the window lately?” Miklos asked over the phone.
“Looking right now,” Benedek said. The rebel forces seemed to have dwindled. “What’s going on out there?”
They were back in the security office. At least from here they could keep track of the building with the help of the security cameras. No movement anywhere. Where in hell was the bastard who’d killed Peter and Tamas?
“The protest was staged by the Freedom Council. It’s confirmed.”
Benedek swore. He’d suspected as much.
“Some paid agitator stirred up the crowd,” Miklos continued. “Half of them didn’t know the real reason why they were marching on the opera house. They thought they were protesting new tax burdens. Now that the true reason is out, many are deserting the protest.”
“Even if every one of them leaves, the bombs remain. And we’ll still be locked in here.”
“We’re working on that.” Miklos’s voice sounded tight. “I have the bomb squad on standby. The second you find anything, you call.”
“We have other problems. Two men are dead in here.” Benedek told him who they were. “I think there’s an enemy inside.”
A moment of silence on the other end, then, “Could be that was their backup plan.”
“Or could be that was plan A. Surround the building, announce the bomb scare, and in the resulting chaos, an assassin could have killed the royal princes. Maybe using the bombs was the backup, in case the assassin didn’t succeed.”
“Except that we were late. You’re the only prince there.”
“And I want to keep it that way. I’m trusting you to keep our brothers at the palace.”
“Believe me, I’ve had my hands full with that. I had to wrestle Lazlo to the ground, not that I mind showing him who’s boss now and then.”
Benedek relaxed for a second, thinking about his twin. Then realized that if Miklos was keeping the others at the palace, that meant he was planning on coming over all alone, because there was no way Miklos could stay out of this. “Before you do anything crazy, think of your wife and your son.” It was the only leverage Benedek had.
“Don’t you worry about me, little brother.”
It wasn’t exactly the reassurance he needed to hear.
They didn’t talk long before hanging up. Benedek was putting the phone away just as the red cell rang.
“Time is up. I’m about to deactivate the lock on the front door. I better see Rayne Williams coming through there.”
The line went dead before Benedek could have demanded that the bastard call off his inside man. Not that he thought the guy would suddenly turn reasonable. But he would have liked to at least try and talk some sense into him given the chance.
“What is it?” the director asked.
“Same demand as before.”
“You should let them have me.” Rayne stood from her chair with a rustling of fabric, determination on her face. She looked like a heroine from some century-old legend. “It’d be a distraction. Maybe the security forces could grab the rebel leaders.”
Some of the guards kept staring at her when they thought she wasn’t looking. Benedek couldn’t blame them. She did look spectacular, as regal as any queen and sexy as hell in that low-cut bodice. Craig stood close to her, patting her hand now and then.
The gesture irritated Benedek—and so did the warm looks she shot back. “I can’t guarantee your safety, so no.” That she would even think that he would let her walk into danger…
She didn’t look happy with him, but after a moment said, “Even if we don’t all fit into that meat locker, you at least should go in there. You’re the prince.”
“She’s right, Your Highness,” his bodyguard immediately voiced his support.
He glanced at his watch. “Safe’s closer.”
“What safe?” Rayne was blinking at him.
“I haven’t received the new code this morning, Your Highness.” The director’s lips flattened.
“I have it.” Benedek was already heading toward the back. He opened a door that revealed a steel panel, and keyed in a code, then waited impatiently for the steel panel to open.
“WHY DOES AN OPERA HOUSE have a bank safe?” Rayne went in first as all the men motioned her forward, and she didn’t feel like arguing. The inside looked like flea market storage, which, under other circumstances, she would have appreciated. She had a weakness for flea markets and everything old.
“It’s a three-hundred-year-old opera house,” the director explained. “We have a lot of valuable antiques, furniture, paintings, Persian rugs that are hundreds of years old and worth hundreds of thousands. We use the safe when there’s work being done in the building. Also, the artwork in the hallways and rotunda are rotated continuously as pieces are restored. Some are stored here.”
The place was fairly full. With thirteen people on top of all those valuables, it was pretty crowded. Somehow Prince Benedek came to be standing behind her. As more people came in, she had no choice but to back up until her back was pressed against him. He was nearly a head taller than she, so her bare shoulders rested against his hard chest.
Normally, someone standing that close would have bothered her but under the circumstances, she felt comforted by his nearness. Comforted and something else, not that she was prepared to admit that.
Especially when she realized that she could feel his breath on her neck, that all he would have to do was dip his head to press his lips to her skin. What a stupid, stupid thing to think.
He would never do that. Why would he? So he’d sent her some flowers over the years, but he was hardly desperate. He probably had a dozen mistresses—the privilege of wealthy men. She pushed her ex-husband from her mind. Her marriage was over. She’d wasted enough years on Philip. She didn’t want to think of him ever again.
Minutes ticked by in tense silence.
The small space grew warm from their body heat. The day had been unseasonably warm for spring. She held still, not wanting to move against Benedek, but she was aware of their bodies touching, aware of every breath he took. A drop of sweat rolled down her neck. She hoped he wouldn’t notice that.
Heat grew inside her as well. Insane. They were fully clothed and in the middle of a crowd. She wasn’t the type to have her knees go weak at the sight of a man or from a touch. She wasn’t what they called sensuous. She’d accepted that over the years. It wasn’t important.
But if she did have some hidden side, couldn’t it have come out for any other man but him? She was done with rich and powerful men, and he was richer and more powerful than any that she’d met.
The building shook. The prince’s strong arms came to hold her around her waist like before. Without conscious thought, she put her hands over his, like before, feeling rattled for more than one reason.
