The Princess and the Bodyguard by Morgan Ashbury Page B

eyes in his head? She had gone nowhere, seen no one, in all this time. She’d spent her days going to class at the university, then coming home. She made sure to be here at the farm, for the children, almost every time they came.
    If she and Peter had any chance of being a long-term item, and she hoped for a lifetime with him, she’d better find an outlet for the fury he created in her with no effort at all.
    Closing her mind to her temper, she inhaled deeply. “Good. Because I don’t share, either.”
    “And I won’t sneak around.” This time, he narrowed his eyes in challenge, tossing down a gauntlet.
    Did he think that stipulation would put her off? If so, he was sadly mistaken, since that had been one of her own “rules.” Reaching up, she kissed him. “Excellent. That means I don’t have to spend the night without you. My bed or yours?”
    Her easy acceptance wasn’t, she could see, something he’d expected. He blinked once, and then a very possessive look came into his eyes.
    “You’ve had me in yours. Now I want you in mine.”

Chapter 11
     
    Fear for Rachel began to gnaw at his belly.
    The investigation had stalled, and Peter had no idea where to turn. He’d felt this way only once before in his life, when Philip had come to him that rainy Monday morning two years before and told him what he’d suspected after speaking to Rachel on the phone. That had been one race against time that, thank God, they had won.
    But this felt like standing guard against a ghost.
    “I am sorry, Peter. But we both knew it unlikely our lab would have any luck.”
    Inspector Claude Dumache sounded uncharacteristically solemn over the phone line. Peter had met Claude in London, when Peter had been working there as a security consultant. They weren’t exactly friends, more like friendly acquaintances, but Peter respected him professionally. After all, Claude had been instrumental in locating the house where Bordeau and Johansson had taken Rachel.
    “Damn it, Claude, I’m at a dead end, here. I can’t help thinking that this is tied to that other business in Geneva.”
    “And we pursued your hunch, mon ami . The commandant of the prison where Bordeau is being held proved most cooperative. He has had no letters from the outside, has sent none, and does not have access to a computer.”
    “And Johansson has been dead for over a year.”
    “Exactly. I took the liberty of looking back over our investigation. Interpol takes a very dim view of those who would kidnap and ransom a princess. At the time, we coordinated the intelligence in the apprehension of several known associates of the two men. No one seemed to be aware of the conspiracy. Neither of our prime suspects had any close family. There had been a party at the house the day before the arrest. But no one knew that Her Highness was in danger. Bordeau had spread word that she liked to party, and everyone believed him. Only when we questioned those students who knew her, after the fact, did we learn the princess had been ardently courted by that bastard, and that since being befriended by him seemed to have changed her behavior.”
    “What you’re telling me is that there is absolutely no evidence that connects this time to that. In fact, there’s no evidence, period.”
    “Yes. Unless you know of anyone who wishes the princess harm. Does she have any enemies? I do presume that you’ve asked her?”
    Peter ran a hand through his hair. “Well, there’s this journalist who didn’t seem too friendly the other day. But other than that, no, there’s no one. Princess Rachel has lived a nearly reclusive life since coming back from Switzerland. The only people she’s mingled with for the most part are the children who come to visit the family farm. And, yes, I’ve even checked out their families.”
    “We will keep doing what we can. We are eliminating people from our watch list, one by one. I wish we could do more to help. I will send you a copy of everything we