From Kiss to Queen (23 page)

“Oh, no! It's perfect,” Jane said before he could answer. “I love it.”

“That's just a promise token,” Mark added. He shot Sergei a wink. “Wait until you see the wedding band.”

Jane pulled back her hand and looked at him. “What does that mean?”

“You'll love your band, Jane. I promise.”

Mark let her know the topic was closed by resuming his breakfast, stifling a grin when his soon-to-be wife stabbed at her own food. The rest of the day was lost in preparing for the coronation and wedding. Mark was busy greeting and entertaining foreign dignitaries already starting to arrive for the ceremonies, and the palace was bursting at the seams by mid-afternoon.

Jane and Irina, he'd learned, had escaped the confusion by going to visit a nearby orphanage Irina had told Jane about. When Mark had looked out the window, it had been to see two women and two bodyguards departing, the four of them laden with gifts. The poor trunk had barely closed and the bumper had nearly been touching the ground as they'd driven through the gates, and Mark was quite pleased at his future wife's interest in her new country and people.

His pleasure, however, lasted only until six that night, when Jane burst through the door of his office with enough force to slam it against the wall. Either not seeing or not caring about the group of men with him—all of whom stood up at her entrance—Jane stormed up to Mark and slammed her fist down on his desk.

“I won't have it!”

“What won't you have?”

“I won't have
anybody
getting hurt because of me!”

“Who almost got hurt?” he asked, straightening in his chair.

“Petri. My bodyguard.”

“Calm down, Jane,” he whispered, finally rising and reaching for her.

She stepped away. “I will not calm down, dammit! There was a series of three loud pops just as Irina and I came out of the orphanage, and Petri threw himself on top of me to protect me from only God knew what.”

Mark became alarmed that Jane was cursing for real, which meant she was more than just a little angry. “What was the noise?” he asked, looking at the man who'd rushed in after her.

“It was nothing,” Jane answered for him. “A car backfiring. That's not the point!”

“What is the point, then?” he asked, inwardly relaxing.

“If that had been a bullet, Petri could be dead. Or hurt. Trying to protect me!”

“That's his job,” Mark said, also no longer caring about their audience. He could only focus on Jane right now and his own escalating anger. “That's what bodyguards
do
.”

“I won't have it, I tell you.”

“Yes, you will,” he snapped, walking around the desk to her. “It's either that or sit in your room, all safe and sound, forever.”

“Do you know Petri's married? And that he's got two little kids?”

Mark closed his eyes and counted to ten. It didn't help. He knew exactly where this conversation was going, and he didn't like it. “No, I wasn't aware of that,” he softly confessed. He opened his eyes, only to sigh when her glare intensified. “I know you don't want anyone's death on your conscience, but
none
of us have a choice in the matter.”

“I don't like it,” she whispered, her own eyes suddenly filling with tears. “I couldn't stand it if he got hurt. What makes my life more important than his?”

“That's not a fair question to ask me, angel. Your life is the most important thing in the world to me. And I imagine Petri is the most important thing in his wife's world. But that's not what this is about.”

“It's not about anything else.”

“He chose his profession, Jane. Nobody coerced him into guarding your life. And he's well trained. Basically,
it boils down to it being no one's decision but his and his wife's.” Mark waved the man in question to come closer. “Petri, please tell Miss Abbot how long and hard you've worked to get the position you have.”

Petri looked at his mistress. “I have trained for three years, and was finally promoted to guarding the royal family six months ago,” he told her in heavily accented English.

“But does your wife know
exactly
what you do?”

Petri nodded and smiled. “My Ileana is proud. She say it is safer than common soldier. And I am near home most time.”

Some of the bluster went out of Jane at his obvious pride. Mark led her back around the desk with him, sat down, and settled her on his lap. He nodded to Petri and bid him farewell in Shelkovan, then lifted her chin to look at him. “He's right, you know. Being a bodyguard is actually safer than being a soldier. And Jane, soldiers have been dying since the dawn of man, protecting their loved ones.” He softly rubbed her arm. “No occupation is safe. Our fishermen risk their lives every day so people they don't know may eat. And some of them die at sea. Our lumberjacks face untold dangers in the forest, but go to work anyway. Petri and the other guards are doing the jobs they've chosen. Let them.”

“I couldn't stand it if he got hurt.”

“I couldn't stand it if you did,” he softly countered. “So we will all be careful. I assure you Petri is. He's trained to see a threat before it arrives. The sudden sound took him by surprise and he reacted instinctively to
protect you.” Mark then swept her hair back on her bent head to see her face. “What of Aunt Irina?”

“She didn't take it very well, either, and was shaking all the way home. The other man had grabbed her and actually carried her back into the orphanage.”

“Then I should give both of them raises, should I not? They are good men.”

“I don't think this is going to work, Mark,” she whispered to his chest. “I don't know if I can live like this.”

“We will make it work,” he said, giving her a gentle squeeze. “But understand that because you've spent twenty-seven years taking care of yourself, it will take time to get used to letting others taking care of you.”

She pulled in a deep breath and looked up, appearing hopeful. “You're sure?”

Mark cocked his head. “Did you not risk your own life to save mine in Maine? Couldn't you have drowned in the lake or been killed by my assassins? And after, when you led me to safety, what were your thoughts? How did saving me make you feel?”

“I didn't think or feel anything about it,” she admitted. “I knew you were in the plane, so I just went in after you. And it was only natural to help you after.”

“And you didn't even know me. So imagine how I want to take care of you, especially knowing how much I love you.”

“I . . . I guess I understand,” she said, looking away—only to suddenly stiffen and look back at him, her eyes widened in horror. “There are a bunch of people in here,” she whispered. “I've been carrying on in front of strangers.”

“Then I guess I should introduce you.”

Jane suddenly looked as though she wanted to punch him, but apparently was too busy blushing in mortification. She was also eyeing the underneath of his desk.

Mark set her on her feet and stood up, keeping a possessive arm around her. “Gentlemen, I would like to introduce you to the woman who has agreed to marry me in two days, Miss Jane Abbot of Maine.” Keeping a possessive arm around her—more to keep her from bolting for the door than for support—Mark led her to the still-standing men. “Jane, this is Randall Creighton, the American Ambassador to Shelkova. The embassy is just now under construction.”

“Mr. Creighton,” Jane responded, her blush kicking up a notch.

“And this is Richard Sholms, an old school friend of mine from Oxford.”

“Mr. Sholms.”

“I'm enchanted, Miss Abbot. And Mark is lucky,” he returned, taking her hand and kissing the back of it.

“And lastly, this is Peter Banks. He's from England, and very interested in buying finished lumber from us. He, too, is an old school friend.”

“Mr. Banks.”

“Hello, Miss Abbot. I must say, I wasn't sure they made a woman brave enough to beard this lion,” he said, also taking her hand but not kissing it.

Mark took pity on Jane, who he knew was fighting to remain calm. “Why don't you go check on Aunt Irina,” he suggested as he started walking her to the door. “You'll see our guests again at dinner tonight.” He left the office with
her and closed the door to shield them from the onlookers, looked up and down the hall at the dozens of people running in different directions, and decided he didn't care. He kissed his fiancée until she started kissing him back, and continued kissing her until he heard her whimper.

“Just two more long nights and we won't have to stop,” he promised, kissing her swollen lips again when they opened slightly in shock. “Can you wait that long?”

“Y—” She had to clear her throat. “Yes,” she finally got out, staring at his mouth.

Mark used her chin to lift her gaze to his. “And Jane?”

“Yes.”

“I won't be the only one shouting this time.”

He left her standing in the hall after firing that shot, his last glimpse before he closed his office door being Jane's eyes nearly crossed and her cheeks a hot, passionate pink.

J
ane came instantly awake just as a large hand closed over her mouth. The decision not to panic didn't come easy as she felt a large, masculine weight dip the bed. But most alarming was the realization there was more than one man in the room.

“Don't scream,” a masculine voice whispered in her ear. “You'll wake the others.”

That wouldn't be a bad thing, Jane decided.

“Get up and get dressed. Quietly,” he ordered, the voice beginning to sound familiar to her. “But you must hurry. Is five minutes enough?”

Enough for what? A light suddenly came on and Jane blinked up at the man whose hand was still covering her mouth to find herself eye-to-golden-eye with a rascal prince. “Mhmlexi!”

He made the mistake of winking at her. “Ow! Don't bite, you witch!” he hissed, quickly drawing back his hand.

“Alexi. What are you doing? You scared the daylights out of me.”

“It's not daylight yet,” he countered, giving her a frown as he rubbed his palm on his belly. “But the sun will be up by the time we get there. Now hurry.”

“Get where?” she asked, sitting up and brushing her hair from her face.

“We're stealing you,” he told her instead of answering, “to go hunting.”

“We?”

“Sergei and me. We're sneaking out and taking you with us. Ever hunt snow grouse?”

Jane turned to Sergei, standing at the foot of the bed—looking much like she imagined the devil would look—holding three shotguns cradled in his arms. Slung over his shoulder were two packs. Jane recognized her gun and her long-lost backpack.

She looked at Alexi and smiled. “No, I haven't. Are snow grouse tasty?”

“Delicious. If you're lucky enough to get one in your oven. They're elusive creatures.”

Jane eyed both brothers again. “Why the secrecy?”

Sergei shrugged his free shoulder. “We thought it would be easier to escape this madhouse while everyone was sleeping.”

“Sounds like a plan to me,” she agreed. “Now leave and I'll get dressed. Five minutes.”

It took her nine, but the men were patiently waiting in the hall when she came out of her room. Jane followed
them down the stairs and out the front door to find two huge four-wheel-drive trucks waiting, with dark-tinted windows and three men standing between them. She recognized Petri, who smiled at her as he moved forward to open a door in the first truck.

She smiled back, but instead of getting in she turned and gave Alexi an incredulous look. “It's going to take two big trucks to carry home all our grouse?”

“No, little witch,” Sergei answered before Alexi could answer. “It's going to take these trucks to escape Markov, if we don't get going.” He turned serious. “I forgot your wounded shoulder. Will you be able to hunt?”

“I'd have to be dead not to be able to hunt. I hold my gun against my right shoulder, anyway.” She grinned at him. “Lucky for me, Dorjan didn't choose to hit that one.”

Sergei's eyes darkened with his frown.

“Ah . . . Why aren't we stealing Mark to go with us?” she asked. “He could probably use a little escape himself.”

“This is our day to spend with our new sister,” Alexi said on a chuckle, all but lifting her into the backseat of the truck. “After the wedding, he'll have you all to himself.”

Wow, he'd called her
sister
. It hit Jane then that she was about to get an entire family—a rowdy, bossy
family
, consisting of an aunt, a father, three big brothers, and a husband. Wow.

Petri drove the truck that she and Sergei and Alexi were riding in, the other two men following in the other truck. Within minutes they were out of the city and heading north into the forested land of Shelkova.

“Oh, it's gorgeous!” she exclaimed, looking out her window at the passing countryside.

“I'm glad you like your new home,” Alexi said. He was sitting in the back with Jane, but was looking at her instead of out the window. “You can understand now why we are so adamant to keep this land for our people. Today we'll be hunting a tract of forest that was cut about two years ago, but you'll notice plenty of old growth still standing. Clear-cutting would be more efficient, but we prefer to leave the best of each species of tree to reseed.”

Jane nodded that she understood. “And zonal cutting is better for the wildlife,” she added. “And new growth springs up quickly. Maine didn't have much of a deer and moose population until harvesting began back in the seventeenth century and opened up the woods.”

“Which is why we're holding firm again the consortium, as they're known for coming in and raping the land, then simply going in search of another country to exploit.”

“That won't happen here,” Sergei growled from the front seat. “Not as long as there's a Lakeland on watch.”

Jane nodded again, having no problem believing him. “But is it true what Mark said? Can you really stop these men?” she finished asking in a whisper.

“We'll stop them.” Sergei turned in his seat to see her. “Maybe not by killing them as you suggested, but the law we're about to pass should be just as effective when it becomes illegal to sell any lands to outsiders—only lumber and finished products like furniture.”

“And that will stop the threat against you?”

“Against
us
, Jane. And yes, it will, as the consortium won't be able to operate in Shelkova—with or without Lakelands in power.”

“When will the law take effect?”

“It's complicated,” Sergei said. “Although most of the forest is government-owned, there are many other large and small landowners we must consider in order to be fair to everyone. Parliament is debating those very details right now.” He shrugged, facing forward again. “The law should be in effect in another few months.”

Happy to hear that news, Jane went back to looking out her window. They made one stop before they began their day of hunting. The two trucks pulled into a homestead that was full of clutter, children, and lots of dogs running around.

Jane was immediately enchanted.

She didn't even wait for Petri to open her door, but bounded outside and made for two small children having a party with no fewer than eight jumping, yelping puppies. She threw herself right into the center of them, sitting down in the dirt and suddenly getting swamped by clumsy legs and lolling tongues. “Oh, heavens! What happy little beasts you are,” she laughed, trying to protect her face. Not that she cared. Within seconds her hair was in tangles from being tugged on and chewed by the young dogs. The two children stood off to the side, their eyes widened in either awe or confusion.

Jane made a grab for one of the puppies and pulled it away from her face so she could smile at the children. “Come,” she beckoned, waving them over and then patting the ground beside her. The little girl, looking about four years old, shyly moved closer. Jane laughed as one of the puppies grabbed the girl's coat and pulled her down onto Jane's lap, and she immediately protected the girl's face from a tongue washing.

Guessing the children didn't speak English, Jane contented herself with starting a tug of war with the puppies, carefully wrapping an arm around the girl and encouraging her to help win the small war. Soon the boy joined them, not about to be left out.

Sergei stood beside Alexi and watched their new sister make a complete ass of herself over two children and the boisterous litter of puppies.

“Have you figured her out yet?” Alexi asked his brother.

“Not yet,” Sergei said, shaking his head and grinning. “And you know what? Neither has Markov. He believes he has, but she's going to keep surprising him for years to come. I'm afraid getting her to agree to marry him was nothing short of opening Pandora's box.”

“I like her.”

“So do I. She's genuine.”

“She's also perfect for Shelkova, and exactly what we need for a queen.”

“And for a sister. Have you noticed how happy the household is? Dad looks and acts ten years younger. He's like . . .”

“Like before mother died,” Alexi finished softly. “We've all missed her, but Dad was especially hit hard by the hole she left in his life. Even the challenge of rebuilding a country wasn't enough to reignite that spark, which is why he's turning it over to Markov.”

Sergei chuckled. “Poor Jane. She's been fawning over Dad since she got here, telling him not to overdo it and to rest. She's always trying to get him to rest.”

“She's going to explode when she finds out the lie we've all been perpetuating.”

“Dad can't help it. He's enjoying her concern too much. It's been five years since he's had such babying from a woman. Aunt Irina's been great, but she knows Dad too well to fall for his sympathy attempts.”

Sergei turned and held out his hand to the man approaching them. The poor fellow's eyes kept darting from the two brothers to the crazy woman sitting on the ground playing with his children.

“Yearman.”

“Your Highness.”

Sergei slapped the man on the back. “Today, Yearman, it is Sergei and Alexi. No ‘Highnesses.'”

The man nodded agreement, his eyes darting back to the woman in the dirt, one daughter and four puppies on top of her. Between the yelping and giggling and shrieks, the din was near deafening. Sergei noticed an uncomfortable Petri standing nearby, looking ready to jump in should one of the young canines turn assassin.

“I'd like for you to meet your future queen, Yearman,” Sergei offered, starting the stunned man on his way toward Jane.

Alexi finally had to haul Jane out of the chaos and then dust her off. He tried to pat down her hair, but it was a hopeless task.

“Jane. This is Yearman, the owner of the dogs and children. He's coming hunting with us,” Sergei explained to the disheveled woman. His grin broadened as Yearman hastily pulled off his hat and bowed to Jane.

“Your . . . Highness,” Yearman stammered, turning a dull red.

Jane first looked bewildered by the title, and then
startled. But she suddenly smiled and reached for Yearman's hand. “Hello, Yearman. And my name is Jane. I like your household.”

“Th-thank you.”

“You've got some beautiful dogs. And children.”

Yearman beamed, although Sergei didn't know if it was the dogs or the kids he was more proud of.

“They good hunters,” the man said, puffing up his chest.

It was the dogs, apparently.

“I have two come with us today,” Yearman went on. “They find you many grouse.”

“Oh! It's been years since I've hunted with dogs.”

“Then let's go,” Alexi chimed in as he brushed away two puppies that had just discovered the tassels on his boots.

Jane turned to say good-bye to the kids and puppies, intending, apparently, to wade back into the group. But Sergei latched on to her and pulled her back to the truck. Yearman and his two dogs got into the second truck, which took over the lead as they left the homestead.

Sergei, who was now sitting in the back, with Alexi in front, watched with amusement as Jane wiggled excitedly and asked question after question about grouse hunting in Shelkova, about Yearman, and about his dogs. Alexi did most of the answering, as he was the more avid hunter in the family. Or he had been, until Jane Abbot had arrived.

It turned out to be a day Sergei would not soon forget. And neither would Alexi, judging by the scowl he wore all the way back to Yearman's house. Jane and that infamous shotgun of hers had taken two grouse to every one of theirs.

At first his new sister had complained they wouldn't get any birds, considering seven people and two dogs would be tramping around in the woods making enough noise to scare the whales clear out at sea. But the bodyguards kept their distance and the dogs lived up to Yearman's bragging. Alexi was soon disgusted and Jane was soon gloating, not the least bit shy about rubbing her success in Alexi's face.

Now they were all tired, Jane especially, Sergei feared. Their walk back to the trucks had her limping considerably, and Sergei was ashamed that he'd forgotten her bad ankle.

It was because she made them forget. Once a person got to know Jane, they stopped seeing her limp. All they saw was her vitality, her enjoyment of life, and her impish smile. Those gunmetal eyes would light up at the least provocation and dance with merriment.

No, a person didn't see her limp at all.

As soon as they arrived back at Yearman's house, Jane was back out of the truck, sore or not, and back in the middle of the puppies. It was as he was standing there, as mesmerized as the rest of the men, that inspiration struck. Sergei turned and smiled at Yearman, then pulled him aside to have a little talk.

“He should have accepted my gun,” Jane complained thirty minutes later, back in the truck that was headed home. “It was the least he could have taken. I know it's not a fancy gun, but it's serviceable.”