“Possibly? Why else would she be here?”
“That’s what I asked myself for no other reason than my gut told me to. I looked for any attempted hacks to your server, any unusual hires, anything that might indicate interest in your business rather than Rachelle’s.”
“And?”
“And I found all of that. If you were not as paranoid—”
“Diligent.”
“—as you are about safeguards, she would not only have access to your bank account but to your dresser drawers as well. I am combing through every staff change we’ve had in the last month, but I may have to go back further. This woman is an insidious weed once she has a toehold. Thankfully, we’re a step ahead of her now.”
“Why would Delinda Westerly want to hack my server?”
“This is solely speculation, but it might be the same reason she’s making a show of inviting your contacts to the ball she’s planning with your father. She is not happy with the public treatment Rachelle has received because of you. Revenge? Blackmail? Hard to say.”
He didn’t want to return to seeing Delinda or Rachelle in that light. “Is there any evidence that Rachelle is aware of what her grandmother is doing?”
“None that I’ve come across.”
“Good. Then bring me the Narcharios woman.”
“I haven’t been able to locate her. She uses disguises, pays in cash, and she’s well funded. I can tell you she’s here, but that’s it.”
“That’s not good enough.”
“Understood.”
Magnus rose to his feet and paced the room. “Eric’s man said there were two people following Rachelle. Have you identified the man?”
“Yes. Goran Petek. He was in prison in Slovenia for murder until his conviction was recently overturned.”
“Someone bought his freedom. Where is he now?”
“Back in Slovenia. He returned yesterday and was picked up by their police. It seems evidence regarding his involvement in a second murder has come to light.”
“Neutralizing him without killing him.”
“Yes.”
“I don’t like that this has been playing out on our soil, yet this is the first I hear of it.” Magnus didn’t let himself fully process that a known killer had been stalking Rachelle. Emotion clouded his judgment, and he needed a clear head to protect her. “Who had Petek released in the first place?”
“We’re still investigating that.”
“I want someone in Slovenia today. I don’t care what it takes. I want to know who he was working for and what they wanted with Rachelle. This is a top priority. Are we clear?”
“Yes.”
“No one gets close to her unless they’ve been thoroughly checked. No one.”
“Understood.”
Angered that there was not more he could do, Magnus slammed his fist sideways against the wall. “She’s important to me, Phillip.”
“I know. We’ll keep her safe.”
Magnus swore. “I sent her into town.”
“Don’t worry, she’s far from alone.”
Chapter Nineteen
For someone who had been nearly invisible for most of her life, the trip into town bordered on the ridiculous. Magnus had said he would provide a driver as well as a guard for her, but somehow that had grown into four men in suits escorting Rachelle down the cobblestoned main street. So much for fitting in.
As she walked, people came out of their homes to meet her. She was tempted to tell them she wasn’t anyone of importance, but they seemed so excited that she didn’t have the heart to. One woman introduced an entire herd of children to her. Rachelle took the time to ask each a question based on their age. She knew from experience to ask the littlest about their toys and the older ones about themselves. There were many, many times in Rachelle’s life when she wasn’t confident, but meeting people and putting them at ease was what she did well. She liked people, and somehow, more often than not, they liked her.
It was natural when a conversation with a plump, older restaurant owner named Zinnia led to following her back to her kitchen to sample the woman’s ribollita, a vegetable soup thickened with bread. When Rachelle attempted to pay for the soup, the woman refused and said it was an honor to have her in her restaurant at all. Only then did Rachelle say, “Please, let me give you something. I think you have me confused with someone else.”
“No. No. I know who you are. You’re Prince Magnus’s woman.”
I wish that didn’t sound quite so much like he owns me, but I’ll allow it for cultural differences. “We’re friends, yes.”
The woman continued, “Maybe one day his bride.”
Whoa. “I don’t know about that.”
“He would not bring you here unless you were very important to him. We helped to raise him. We are his home. His trusted friends. You understand? Four guard you today. One is my nephew. One I had to beat with a stick to keep out of my garden every year until he joined the royal guard. Desi, I have not forgotten where all my ripe tomatoes went.” She turned toward the grown man, who smiled sheepishly at her reprimand.
“Yes, but my wife needed to practice, and now she makes the best sauce in Domovia. You said so yourself.”
“That is the only reason I allow your son to take my roses for his girlfriend. He’s in love.”
Desi frowned. “My son is fifteen. What does he know of love?”
“You were about his age when you started stealing my tomatoes.”
The other men laughed.
Desi did not.
In that instant, Rachelle’s impression of the guards changed. They were no longer intimidating strangers in suits. They had names, families, and a place in this loving community.
“Thank you, Zinnia, for a beautiful lunch,” Rachelle said. “Your warm welcome means more to me than you know.”
Zinnia nodded as she walked with Rachelle back out onto the sidewalk in front of the restaurant. “Be good to our Magnus. He does not open his heart easily, but there is no one who would fight more fiercely for Vandorra—or for you if he chooses you.”
If he chooses me.
Like it’s that simple.
“How did you become queen?”
“Oh, he chose me.”
Relationships are so much more complicated than that.
Standing on the curb with Zinnia, Rachelle wished it didn’t have to be. Imagine how simple life would be if nothing else mattered besides wanting to be with someone who wanted to be with you? For just a night, Rachelle wanted to experience that. Even if it didn’t last. Even if something that good couldn’t.
One night.
One perfect night. Then I’ll go back to reality.
On that note—“Zinnia, where do women buy clothing in this town?”
“Like a dress?” the woman asked.
“And other things.”
“Other things?” Zinnia smiled knowingly. “Like a pharmacy?”
Rachelle tried not to die right there of embarrassment. “No, a clothing shop.” She glanced down at her jeans, then back at Zinnia. “I’d like to get something more feminine.”
“One minute,” Zinnia said. She turned and called back into the restaurant, right over the heads of the patrons. “Niko. Where does your wife buy those little nighties you blame your five children on?” He called back the name of a shop in a larger neighboring town. “Oh yes. Do you think you could send her quick to buy something nice in a size”—she looked Rachelle over—“eight? Something that would have you propose to her all over again.”
One of the men offered to go. Zinnia told him he was too young to have good sense in such things, but she would tell his father that he offered. The room fell quiet after that. Desi might not have been the only one she’d ever taken a stick to.
A moment later, Niko said his wife welcomed any excuse to shop and would be happy to go.
“Oh no. Please tell him it’s not necessary.”
Zinnia thanked Niko and closed the restaurant door as they exited. “It shouldn’t be until your wedding night, but I’ve given up lecturing the young. You’ll do as you please anyway.”