understanding and betrayal on Gabriella’s face, she realized that he’d known. And anger chased away her guilt.
* * *
T HE SENSE OF betrayal overwhelmed Gabriella. She’d told herself that Whit wouldn’t have known—that he might not have been keeping secrets like everyone else in her life had. But when he’d looked from her to Lydia and back, he hadn’t been surprised by their uncanny resemblance.
He’d known that they were related. He’d known that Charlotte Green was more than Gabby’s bodyguard; she was her sister, too—an illegitimate princess.
But then so was Gabby. Just like the baby she carried was an illegitimate royal. She pressed her palms over her belly as the baby shifted inside her, kicking so hard that Gabby’s stomach moved. Her sister was also pregnant, her baby probably conceived the same night that Gabby’s had been.
Gabriella was happy for her, but she didn’t want to be with her. Not yet. Six months hadn’t been long enough for her to come to terms with how she had been betrayed—by her father. By her sister...
She hadn’t thought of Charlotte as just her bodyguard; she’d considered her a friend. She’d been such a fool...
Whit had gone with Lydia back to her office, so that he could use the landline phone—so that he could call for the royal jet to take her back to St. Pierre. He’d saved her from a kidnapper only to kidnap her himself—to take her somewhere she didn’t want to be.
She glanced out through that open window to where he’d parked the Jeep. The keys dangled from the ignition. During the past six months, she’d learned to drive a manual transmission.
She grabbed up her backpack from the bed and headed out to the Jeep. It would take a while for Whit to get his call through, and even longer for him and whoever he called to understand what each other was saying. By the time he finished with his call, she would be almost back to the airport.
Authorities must have been called. Someone would have reported the shooting and Whit stealing the Jeep. With the local police swarming the airport, nobody would try to kidnap her again. She would probably be safer there than here with Whit.
But her hand trembled with nerves as she lifted the handle and pulled open the door. She stepped up into the Jeep and slid beneath the wheel. But before she could swing the door shut behind herself, a strong hand jerked it from her grasp.
She didn’t look to confirm her fear of being abducted. But that hand couldn’t belong to Whit. He couldn’t have returned to the hut yet.
Had the men actually followed them but stayed out of sight until they’d found her—alone and vulnerable?
Chapter Five
Whit had left her alone and vulnerable. Some damn bodyguard he was.
And when he had stepped inside her hut and found it empty, he’d felt every bit as sick as he had when he’d seen that trashed hotel suite in Paris. The walls had been riddled with bullets, the rug and hardwood floor saturated with blood. He’d thought her dead then.
He didn’t think her dead now. He thought her pissed off. So he wasn’t surprised to find her trying to take off in the Jeep.
But she was surprised to see him. Her lips parted in a gasp when he stopped the door from closing. Then he reached for her.
She slapped at his hand and then turned, kicking out with her leg. Her foot connected squarely with his kneecap, which caused his knee to buckle and nearly give beneath his weight.
“Damn it!” he cursed her. And Charlotte. Her bodyguard had taught her some self-defense moves—in addition to teaching her how to shoot.
If the guy in the airport hadn’t been trying to abduct her, Whit might have felt sorry for him taking the bullet in his shoulder. He knew too well how that felt. His throbbed with pain, but he ignored the discomfort as he tugged her from the vehicle. “Where the hell do you think you’re going?”
“Whit?” She finally focused on him, her eyes widening with surprise. She stopped
* * *
T HE SENSE OF betrayal overwhelmed Gabriella. She’d told herself that Whit wouldn’t have known—that he might not have been keeping secrets like everyone else in her life had. But when he’d looked from her to Lydia and back, he hadn’t been surprised by their uncanny resemblance.
He’d known that they were related. He’d known that Charlotte Green was more than Gabby’s bodyguard; she was her sister, too—an illegitimate princess.
But then so was Gabby. Just like the baby she carried was an illegitimate royal. She pressed her palms over her belly as the baby shifted inside her, kicking so hard that Gabby’s stomach moved. Her sister was also pregnant, her baby probably conceived the same night that Gabby’s had been.
Gabriella was happy for her, but she didn’t want to be with her. Not yet. Six months hadn’t been long enough for her to come to terms with how she had been betrayed—by her father. By her sister...
She hadn’t thought of Charlotte as just her bodyguard; she’d considered her a friend. She’d been such a fool...
Whit had gone with Lydia back to her office, so that he could use the landline phone—so that he could call for the royal jet to take her back to St. Pierre. He’d saved her from a kidnapper only to kidnap her himself—to take her somewhere she didn’t want to be.
She glanced out through that open window to where he’d parked the Jeep. The keys dangled from the ignition. During the past six months, she’d learned to drive a manual transmission.
She grabbed up her backpack from the bed and headed out to the Jeep. It would take a while for Whit to get his call through, and even longer for him and whoever he called to understand what each other was saying. By the time he finished with his call, she would be almost back to the airport.
Authorities must have been called. Someone would have reported the shooting and Whit stealing the Jeep. With the local police swarming the airport, nobody would try to kidnap her again. She would probably be safer there than here with Whit.
But her hand trembled with nerves as she lifted the handle and pulled open the door. She stepped up into the Jeep and slid beneath the wheel. But before she could swing the door shut behind herself, a strong hand jerked it from her grasp.
She didn’t look to confirm her fear of being abducted. But that hand couldn’t belong to Whit. He couldn’t have returned to the hut yet.
Had the men actually followed them but stayed out of sight until they’d found her—alone and vulnerable?
Chapter Five
Whit had left her alone and vulnerable. Some damn bodyguard he was.
And when he had stepped inside her hut and found it empty, he’d felt every bit as sick as he had when he’d seen that trashed hotel suite in Paris. The walls had been riddled with bullets, the rug and hardwood floor saturated with blood. He’d thought her dead then.
He didn’t think her dead now. He thought her pissed off. So he wasn’t surprised to find her trying to take off in the Jeep.
But she was surprised to see him. Her lips parted in a gasp when he stopped the door from closing. Then he reached for her.
She slapped at his hand and then turned, kicking out with her leg. Her foot connected squarely with his kneecap, which caused his knee to buckle and nearly give beneath his weight.
“Damn it!” he cursed her. And Charlotte. Her bodyguard had taught her some self-defense moves—in addition to teaching her how to shoot.
If the guy in the airport hadn’t been trying to abduct her, Whit might have felt sorry for him taking the bullet in his shoulder. He knew too well how that felt. His throbbed with pain, but he ignored the discomfort as he tugged her from the vehicle. “Where the hell do you think you’re going?”
“Whit?” She finally focused on him, her eyes widening with surprise. She stopped
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