What in the world?
Burke Yates slammed on his brakes, skidding to a halt at the entrance to the parking lot beside Anderson Ranch B&B. As if oblivious to the presence of his silver Ford F-600 flatbed idling there, a trio of black SUVs rolled his way, appearing to have every intention of hitting him head-on.
He shifted into reverse and backed up until the dual rear wheels of his truck dipped into the ditch on the opposite side of the road.
The black SUVs careened out of the parking lot without slowing down. The one in the front came within inches of clipping his extended sideview mirror on the driver’s side.
Burke resisted the urge to lay on his horn. The windows of all three SUVs were darkly tinted, so it was impossible to make out more than the outline of their drivers. However, his gut told him they knew they were acting like jerks. Honking to draw more attention to that fact would only stoke their egos further.
Wondering if their disappearing taillights had anything to do with his friend’s emergency phone call, Burke grabbed the first parking spot he came to. Pushing open his door, he hopped to the ground and slammed it behind him. He locked it by pressing the key fob in his pocket as he jogged to the front double glass doors of the B&B.
His friend, Brody Anderson, was pacing inside by the massive stacked stone fireplace that graced the waiting area. The dark-haired farmer paused and glanced up at Burke while the door was still swinging closed behind him.
“There you are!” Relief infused his voice. He pushed his Stetson back and strode Burke’s way, but he didn’t stop when he reached him. He plowed right into him with a body slam of a bear hug. “Thanks for showing up and saving my marriage.” He sounded like he was only half joking, a detail that piqued Burke’s interest further.
He clapped the guy on the back. “Almost got mowed over by a whole line of SUVs on my way into the parking lot. What’s that all about?”
“That,” Brody abruptly stepped back, “is the problem I was telling you about over the phone. A very big problem I didn’t ask for on the morning of my kid’s first Christmas.”
Burke frowned in concern, his thoughts immediately flying toward Brody’s wife and infant. “Are Star and the baby safe?”
“Yep.” Brody’s tanned features didn’t relax. If anything, the lines in his face deepened. He angled his head for Burke to follow him toward the nearest Authorized Personnel Only door. He lowered his voice, still talking as Burke fell into step with him. “I’m not letting them anywhere near this place until I’m sure we’ve got the hatches battened down on security.”
He pushed open the silver swing door in front of them. A commercial kitchen materialized on the other side.
“Where’s Crew?” Burke gazed around in fascination at the massive chrome appliances and impeccably clean workstations. Being behind the doors of the inner sanctum that comprised Anderson Ranch B&B never failed to fill him with awe. It was impressive how the Andersons had turned a rickety three-story red barn on a failing ranch into the booming B&B and steakhouse it now was.
“On a Christmas cruise to the Bahamas with Grecia.” Brody let out a resigned huff of air at the mention of his younger cousin, a recent college grad who normally ran the place. “They’ve been planning it for eons. It’s a delayed honeymoon of sorts. He’s earned it. They both have.”
Burke nodded, knowing his friend was referring to the fact that Crew had been required to finish serving out his parole before embarking on a trip out of the country. He wasn’t a bad person. He’d just made some really poor decisions during his teen and young adult years, like hanging out with the wrong crowd during a drug bust. Though he wasn’t personally partaking of any controlled substances, he’d been hauled away in handcuffs along with the rest of them. Fortunately, his cousin had gone to bat for him and offered to serve as his sponsor. Thanks to Brody, Crew was now walking the straight and narrow.
Brody greeted a few members of the serving staff on his way to the massive sub-zero fridge. He returned with a pair of water bottles and tossed one to Burke.
“Thanks.” Burke caught it with one hand, unscrewed the lid, and tipped it up for a swig.
They ended up on a pair of stools at the long bar in the back of the room. It was where the ranch hands normally ate. Only one was seated there at the moment. He nodded silently at them and kept shoveling in his breakfast burrito.
Keeping his voice low, Brody got right to the point. “Our unexpected guest has made it clear that she and her entourage are staying here indefinitely. She gave us a hefty deposit to secure their block of rooms.”
“She?” Burke’s eyebrows rose. He still wasn’t clear on exactly who this unexpected guest was.
“The princess.” Brody gave him an incredulous look. “It’s the whole reason I’m begging for your help on Christmas day.”
Burke drew a deep breath and let it out. “That’s your story, and you’re sticking to it, eh?”
Brody looked exasperated. “I take it you didn’t bother reading the text I sent you? Or the attached links to a few news articles?”
“Nope. It looked way too long.” Burke finished downing his bottle of water, sensing he needed to be better hydrated for what came next. “I was with my family when you called.” Like everyone else on Christmas morning who’s fortunate to have a family. He glanced at his watch, hoping his meeting with Brody wouldn’t go too long. Otherwise, he’d be missing the big Christmas lunch his family gathered for every year, which was like a practice run for the big Christmas dinner they’d enjoy a few hours after that. He was mentally kicking himself up one side and down the other for picking up the phone and allowing Brody to pull him into whatever he was trying to pull him into.
Brody ducked his head, looking miserable. “Listen, I’m really sorry about—”
“Lay it on me, bro.” It was an inconvenient time for everyone. The sooner Burke got to the bottom of what Brody needed, the sooner he could get back to celebrating Christmas with the people he loved the most.
“Right.” Brody drew a heavy breath. “The name of our VIP guest is Catarina Sophina Olivia Joy Belmont. You’ve probably heard of her.”
“Doesn’t ring a bell.” Burke didn’t keep up with any of the royal families. “What’s with the train-sized name?”
“I’m getting to that part.”
“I’m all ears.” Burke folded his arms, wishing his friend would hurry up and spit it out.
“First things first. Her regular team of bodyguards seem to be missing.”
“Missing?” That was a new one for Burke. Just when you think you’ve heard it all.
“Yes. Missing. They arrived to the B&B with her. Then they received some mysterious call and said they were being pulled to another assignment. Miss Belmont tried everything she could to detain them, but they took off anyway.”
“Like they had demons chasing them,” Burke interjected. He’d been there. He’d seen firsthand how recklessly they were driving.
“So it seems. Miss Belmont has assured me this has never happed to her before, and whatever miscommunication occurred will be corrected quickly. All she needs is some temporary protection until matters can be resolved.”
“Which is where I come in.” Burke hunkered down on his stool to be briefed on an assignment he couldn’t have been less enthusiastic about.
“Exactly, and they intend to make it worth your while. No worries there.”
“Who are they?” Burke wanted to be clear about who he was working for.
“Her family. They own a resort in the Maldives called Mount Belmont. It spans three islands.” He gestured grandly with both hands, like he was showing off a big imaginary fish. “It’s climbing the charts as one of the world’s top choices for honeymooners.”
“Yippity doo da.” Burke couldn’t have cared less. All he could think about was his mother’s fresh-baked dinner rolls and the two hams she had simmering in crockpots.
Brody talked faster. “Their biggest claim to fame is being a royal escape. The main event center on the resort is a replica of Neuschwanstein Castle in Germany, the same castle that inspired the Cinderella Castle in Disney’s animated movie and the Sleeping Beauty Castle in Disneyworld. It’s all in the news articles I sent you.”
Still not interested. Burke gestured impatiently to keep him talking.
“Their guests love the royal theme. So much so that Mr. and Mrs. Belmont staged a coronation ceremony last summer to officially declare themselves the reigning king and queen of Mount Belmont.”
Ah. I see where this is going. Burke curled his upper lip at his friend. “Transforming their spoiled only child into a princess.” He reckoned anyone rich enough to own a few islands could call themselves whatever they wanted, though he still didn’t see how any of this concerned him.
“She’s a princess no matter how you slice it,” Brody agreed. “She’s been called everything from like royalty to prettier than a real princess on social media. With that kind of wealth, folks treat them like royalty, too.”
“Are you saying I should bow when she enters the room?” Burke scoffed. Over my dead body! He didn’t care if she was a direct descendant of the legendary King Arthur himself.
“Please remain seated,” a scathing female voice cut in. “Your long pointy boots look like too much of a tripping hazard.”
Burke swung his head around in amazement and discovered a tall, slender woman standing just inside the kitchen. The silver door swinging behind her told him she’d just entered.
One thing was immediately clear. She was way overdressed for their small cattle town. She was wearing a formal blue gown that looked too loose — like she’d recently lost weight or something. Her blonde hair was piled in a regal up-do, with a few stray tendrils dangling against a pair of diamond teardrop earrings. What really caught his attention, though, was the white bandage taped across her forehead and the very real shadows beneath her eyes.
Burke leaped to his feet so quickly that he nearly knocked over his bar stool. Brody did the same. Neither of them, however, even came close to tripping over the toes of their boots as they hurried her way.
Pausing to stand in front of her, Burke thrust out a hand. “I’m Burke Yates with K&G Security. Pleased to meet you, ma’am.” He wasn’t sure what part of her ridiculously long name she preferred to be called, so he made no effort to tackle it.
“I’m Catarina Belmont.” She tipped her elegant, fine-boned chin up haughtily. “I hope you’ll overlook my lapse in manners. My right hand isn’t currently in shaking condition.” Her tone indicated that her manners weren’t the ones she found lacking.
More amused than insulted, he eyed the plaster cast peeking out from the fabric covering her wrist. “Maybe I should bow after all,” he drawled, “and skip the handshaking business.”
Though he meant it as a joke, her pouty lips tightened. “My friends call me Cat.” She eyed him coolly. “You may call me—”
“Your highness.” He treated her to the mocking bow he’d mentioned only moments earlier. As he straightened, he caught sight of a shorter, curvier woman entering the room. She was more plainly dressed than Miss Belmont in a white silk blouse and navy slacks, but her blazer was the same shade of blue. He imagined it meant she was part of the princess’s entourage.
“I answer to that, too.” Catarina Belmont’s voice was dry as she turned to meet Brody’s gaze. “Is he the only bodyguard his company could spare?” Her point was clear. After laying eyes on him, she found him lacking.
“On Christmas morning? I’m afraid so, ma’am.” Brody looked and sounded harried. “But I’ve known him my entire life,” he hastened to add. “I assure you he’s the best.”
Burke didn’t bother hiding his smirk of triumph.
“At what?” she shot back.
His smile peeled off his face and disintegrated. He half turned toward the door, sorely tempted to turn down the job and walk out on the cranky, entitled woman standing in front of him.
“At keeping you safe,” Brody returned evenly. “K&G Security carefully vets every employee. You couldn’t be in better hands.”
“I’ll just take your word for it.” The snide edge to her voice indicated she wasn’t ready to draw the same conclusion. She returned her attention to Burke with a scathing look. “We have a thousand things to get done today, so let’s giddy up, as you cowboys like to say.”
His eyebrows rose. “To their horses maybe.”
She gave him an exasperated look. “How else would you get a horse moving?”
“Like this.” He made a soft clicking sound between his teeth.
She wrinkled her nose at him. “Did you just blow a kiss?” Her face reddened. “To your horse, that is.”
“Nope.” He waggled his eyebrows playfully at her. “Would you like me to?”
Her high cheekbones reddened a few more degrees. “That won’t be necessary.” She spun away from him, pausing at the silver swing door to glance over her shoulder at him. “Are you coming?”
“Do I have to?” Burke muttered the question beneath his breath for Brody’s ears alone.
“I’m begging you,” his friend muttered back.
“Just shoot me now.” Burke shuffled his feet into motion, raising his voice when he caught up to his client. “I’m all yours, princess.”
“This way.” The woman in the royal blue blazer stepped around Catarina Belmont to open the door for her. The two women stepped through it, allowing it to swing shut in his face.
He followed them, sending a silent groan heavenward. “No offense, ladies, but it’s Christmas day. If y’all will just spell out what you need done, so I can—”
Miss Belmont cut him off with an upraised hand. “My staff will help with the unpacking while I catch up on some correspondence.” Her words were stiff. “All you need to do is keep watch over us.”
“While you unpack,” he repeated carefully, wondering if they truly expected him to stick around while they counted tiaras and glass slippers.
“While my staff unpacks,” she corrected. “Like I just finished telling you, I—”
“Have emails to catch up on. I get it, princess.” So does everyone else in the world. Big whoop!
“Do you?” she snapped as they reached the elevator. “Believe it or not, even the simplest tasks can be dangerous for a woman in my shoes.”
“So I’ve heard.” The elevator doors rolled open, and he slapped a hand over them to hold them there.
Catarina swept past him, and the short, curvy woman did the same. “The cast on my arm isn’t for decoration, Mr. Yates.”
“Never said it was, your highness.”
She gave him another scorching once-over. “Were you briefed on the hit-and-run accident that landed me in the hospital?”
He was starting to wish he’d read Brody’s text message more thoroughly, along with the attached news articles. “For the sake of being thorough, ma’am, how about you give me the highlights?”
“Meaning your boss didn’t take the time to brief you.” She made a long-suffering sound.
“Nope.” Brody wasn’t his boss, but he let that slide as he joined them in the elevator. He made a big show of shielding her with his shoulders, mostly as a joke, while the door rolled shut.
“What are you doing?” She shrank back from him, darting a nervous look at her companion.
“My job,” he reminded dryly. On top of being a snob, she had no sense of humor. His afternoon stretched in front of him, bleaker than ever. “In my pointy boots that I’ve yet to trip over.”
The elevator lurched upward, making Catarina Belmont totter in her heels.
On sheer reflex, his hand shot out to grip her uninjured elbow.
The expulsion of air from the other woman sounded suspiciously like a snicker.
Burke ignored her. “Do you have any idea why anyone would want to harm you?”
Catarina Belmont gently disengaged her elbow from his grasp. “My father has terminal cancer, so the reins of Mount Belmont will soon transfer to someone else.”
He raised a single eyebrow at her. “To you, I presume?”
“Eventually.” To his disappointment, she didn’t elaborate.
He could easily draw his own conclusions. It sounded like a power struggle was in play, along with the transfer of a sizable fortune. “Got any suspects?” His voice gentled as he took inventory of the additional cuts and scratches on her face that she’d attempted to cover with makeup. Though she clawed at him like a wet kitten every time he opened his mouth, she’d been through a lot. The proof was right in front of his nose.
“One.” Her curvy companion lifted her chin. “My father.”
Catarina Belmont gasped. “We have no proof of that!” She sounded thoroughly taken aback.
“He came out of nowhere,” the other woman retorted in a low, fierce voice. “After being gone most of my life and leaving your family to raise me.”
Oh? Burke’s interest level spiked. “And you are?”
“My cousin.” Catarina stepped in front of him as the elevator door swung open again. “That’s why we look so much alike.”
Burke prevented her from leaving the elevator by clasping her upper arms. “Allow me to clear the hallway first, princess.”
She bristled. “Oh, for pity’s sake!”
He popped his head into the hallway to ensure it was clear of traffic. It was.
With a snort of laughter, her cousin shimmied around both of them and stepped into the hallway first. She paused a few doors down to wave a room key over the door entry scanner. It flickered green as the lock disengaged. Pushing it open, she stepped inside.
Burke herded Catarina Belmont in after her. The first sound that met his ears on the other side was a handgun being cocked. He didn’t waste any time second-guessing what he heard. He simply acted. He lunged around Catarina to shield her with his body, wishing like crazy he’d had the foresight to wear his bullet-proof vest.
Instead of a gunshot, dead silence settled over the room.
A new voice piped up. “Sorry, um…that was just me.”
He found himself face-to-face with a third woman. She was older than the other two, a good twenty years older, with brown hair tucked tidily into a bun.
“It’s become a habit lately,” she informed him sheepishly, “to be prepared for anything.” She nodded encouragingly at Miss Belmont’s cousin. “Go ahead and lock the door.”
“Who are you, if you don’t mind me asking?” Burke was only half-listening for her answer. His attention was still focused on the way Catarina Belmont had plastered herself against his side. He gently wrapped an arm around her shoulders, shocked by how badly she was trembling.
“Becky Alford. Cat’s personal assistant.” The brown-haired woman frowned at her employer. “Are you alright, sweetie?”
“I, er…yes.” His client stumbled away from him to take a seat on the edge of the nearest mattress. “It’s just been a long morning.”
That you expected to turn into a gunfight? He scanned their surroundings, wondering how much the three women weren’t telling him about the dangers dogging their heels. He was standing in a suite of rooms with two adjoining doors. The accommodations were nicer than he’d been expecting, probably part of those upgrades Brody had been rattling on about the other day.
He cleared his throat, facing Catarina Belmont squarely. “Are you normally armed for battle while unpacking and writing emails?”
“Me? No.” She looked appalled by the thought. “Becky is the only one of us who carries. And you, I hope?” There was a hint of mockery in her voice as she stood and tipped her face up to him.
She seemed oblivious to how much closer her movements brought them — a mere two steps from kissing distance. He was aware, though. Very, very aware.
“Yep. That’s what you’re paying me for, princess.” After reminding her of her place, he yanked his gaze from her pouty lips, hating how long it had been since his last date. Any guy who reached the point of finding a spoiled, mouthy princess attractive was desperate. Desperately desperate.
Nothing good would come from fantasizing about a girl like her. Their lives were worlds apart. He’d be wise to remember it during the coming hours.
