Brandishing a Crown

He stroked her arm, and her gaze fell to his hand. His fingers, his touch felt so gentle, yet his military background and leadership role indicated he possessed a steely strength and determination. That he would do whatever necessary to protect his people and his friends.

“We believe Sheik Amir may have been in the limousine,” Stefan said in a tortured whisper. “But this news cannot be made public. And I do not want it shared with any of your law officials, even your boss.”

Jane gave a clipped nod. She hated to lie to Osgood or other police, but she also understood the delicacy of this matter. Lives were at stake. “I just want to get to the truth,” Jane said. “If your friend was involved, talking to me might help us find him.”

“You will do your job,” he finally said. “I just ask that you discuss any leads you find with me and get clearance with our security before you go public with information.”

He sounded so sincere that against her better judgment, she agreed.

Suddenly the hairs on the nape of her neck stood on end, and her cop skills kicked in. Oftentimes criminals showed up at a crime scene and insinuated themselves into the investigation, so they could keep abreast of developments. That and a morbid sense of watching the police scurry around searching for clues.

She turned and studied everyone at the scene and the surrounding area to see if anyone looked suspicious.

STEFAN GRITTED his teeth. He did recognize the cell phone. It was Amir’s. Which meant the blood in the back of the limo most likely belonged to him, too.

Frustration knotted his insides. He did not like lying to Jane, but the earlier text made him extremely cautious.

Something about her tough-girl act impressed him. She wasn’t trying to be coy or use him. She was simply doing her job.

A refreshing change from the manipulative, seductive women who had tried to lure him into bed—and into marriage—and earn a position by his side on the throne.

But he did not have time to analyze his odd attraction to her. Finding Amir was of utmost importance.

“Was gunpowder used as the explosive?” he asked.

Jane adjusted her cap. “I will release my results once I’ve analyzed the samples at the lab.”

“But no signs of C-4 or another military ex plosive?”

Her eyes narrowed. “You do know explosives, don’t you, Prince?”

He nodded. “Among other things.”

Swinging the flashlight in a wide arc, Jane studied the angle of the limo, then shined the light on the edges of the asphalt next to the dirt.

Stefan followed the tracking light, and frowned as he noticed skid marks made by the limo. Then more tire tracks…

“There was another vehicle here,” Jane said. “Either the bomber himself or a witness.”

A witness would be invaluable. But if so, where was this person? “Perhaps someone found Amir and drove him for medical help.” At least he prayed that was the scenario. Not that this person had kidnapped Amir.

“I’ll have the sheriff check local hospitals.” She traced a gloved hand over one of the tire tracks. “I’m going to take plaster casts of these.”

“You can distinguish the make of the automobile by these impressions?” he asked.

Jane nodded. “If we look at the tread and wear, we can match them to a particular tire. There are databases that list which tires are installed from the factory on specific vehicles. And if there’s a hole or cut in the tire, that makes it even more unique.”

Stefan nodded, impressed.

“Let me get my supplies,” she said.

He watched as she spoke with the sheriff, then rushed to the crime lab van. Seconds later, she returned with a camera and supplies. She took photographs of each tire track at a ninety-degree angle, then from various angles, then measured the width and the circumference of the wheels as well as the distance between the front of the tires and the rear tires.

She also knelt and collected samples of the rubber left on the asphalt and dirt and bagged it to transport to the lab.

Stefan noted the meticulous way she handled each piece of evidence, logging it into an evidence log to ensure proper treatment.

There were also shoe prints on the dirt by the second car. She measured and cast those as well.

Finally, she stood and returned to him, looking up at him beneath the brim of her hat. “We need to take a sample of your foot impressions.”

He gaped at her, anger rising. “You cannot honestly believe that I had something to do with this bomb.” It was a statement, not a question.

Jane gave him a sardonic smile. “You tell me. You were here within minutes of the crime. You refuse to be open with me. You’ve asked me to cover up anything I find from the press. I know that you recognize that cell phone.” She sighed. “And you are a bomb expert. Do the math.”

“There is no math to be done,” he said, his voice hardening. “I am Prince of Kyros, here to make peace deals with your country and the limo my friends and I rode in earlier was blown up. I explained my reasons and you must accept them.”

Jane planted her hands on her hips, her expression defiant. “I don’t care who you are. I’m a crime scene investigator, and I’m going to find out what happened here. And whoever is involved is going to answer for this crime.”

Stefan’s cheeks burned. Edilio glanced up in concern from the car where he stood, and Jane’s superior, Osgood, did the same. Furious, Stefan jammed his hands in his pockets to keep from shaking the insufferable woman and finding himself handcuffed by the local law like a common criminal.

Osgood strolled over, scratching at his arm where it appeared a rash lingered. “Something wrong?”

“I just explained that we’ll need to take the prince’s foot impressions.” Jane smiled tightly. “For elimination purposes, of course.”

Stefan’s gaze met hers. He saw the challenge. But heat rippled through the air, a charged tension that made his body burn with desire.

Edilio approached, his temper flaring in his eyes, and the reporter hovering on the scene started toward them.

Sheriff Wolf caught the reporter, though, before he could snap a photo.

“You insult the Prince, Miss,” Edilio said in a harsh voice. “That is not acceptable. You must apologize.”

Stefan raised a hand to warn Edilio to calm down. The last thing he wanted was to cause an incident with the local police. Or for this reporter to capture it. “No need for apologies, Edilio. Let Miss Cameron follow her protocol.”

He gave Jane a seductive smile. “Take my prints, Jane. You will only prove that you are wrong about me. That even if you have a problem with me because I am a prince, that I am an honorable man, one you can trust.”

THE SUBTLE INNUENDO in Stefan’s voice sent a quiver up Jane’s spine. She didn’t really believe that the prince had anything to do with the bombing, and she had no idea why she’d baited him, but his presence totally unnerved her.

“I do not have a problem with you because you are a prince,” Jane lied.

Rather because he was a man.

She didn’t trust any man, especially a royal who could have any woman on any continent he desired. A man with wealth and power and people heeding his every beck and call.

She wanted him gone. Away from her so she could breathe normally again. So her fingers would stop sweating and her heart racing, and her mind would stop straying to dangerous avenues.

Like wondering what he thought about her. If he liked what he saw. If his hands were as sensual as they looked. And what it would feel like if he actually touched her with that sultry mouth.

Good grief. She was a moron to even think such nonsense.

“I’ll need your shoes,” Jane said.

“I will follow you to your lab and you may have them there,” the prince said in a tone that brooked no argument.

“Fine.” Jane grabbed the evidence box to transport to the lab, and strode toward her vehicle, but just as she crossed through the crime scene tape, the reporter shoved a microphone in her face.

“Can you tell us what you found? Who was in the car?”

Jane shook her head. “The department will issue a statement once the evidence has been processed and the victim identified. Now, please move, so I can do my job.”

Stefan smiled as she elbowed her way past the leech. It had irritated him when she had used that tone on him, but amused him now.

“Prince Stefan,” Edilio said. “Are you certain you want to cooperate with this woman?”

Stefan shrugged. “I think she will be useful in giving us information.”

“Such a crass female,” Edilio said. “I cannot fathom why some American women dress and talk like men.”

Stefan’s mouth quirked. Crass was not the word he would have chosen. Intriguing, sexy, smart. Not the type of woman he was accustomed to, but he would meet her challenge.

Still, responding to Edilio would only invite questions, so he refrained from comment.

Edilio drove and he tried to tame his libido as they followed Jane to the lab, parked and went inside. The crime lab was located in the brick courthouse in Dumont on the second floor and consisted of several offices and laboratories. Jane catalogued the evidence into their filing system, then settled at a workspace. With the late night hour, the lab was virtually empty, the halls reeking of pungent odors and chemicals.

“Find us some coffee,” Prince Stefan said. “I will phone Efraim and update him.”

Edilio nodded, then walked down the hall, and Stefan stepped into an empty corridor across from Jane’s lab to phone his friends.

“The driver was killed,” he told Efraim. “And there was blood in the backseat, but Amir was not inside.”

“Then he could have crawled away after the explosion, and he still may be alive.”

“It is possible,” Stefan said. “But Amir’s cell phone was discovered at the scene in the bushes. And there were tire tracks from a second car.”

Efraim grunted. “There was a witness?”

“Either that or the second vehicle belonged to the bomber. If he saw that Amir was still alive, he could have kidnapped him.”

Efraim cursed. “We must not let this information become known. Not until we discover the truth.”

“I agree.”

“I will handle making excuses to delay the summit,” Efraim said.

“Thank you, Efraim. But do not give up on it. We will make this happen.” Stefan’s phone beeped that he had another call. “I am sorry, it is my brother. I should take this.”

“Be careful, Stefan,” Efraim warned.

“You do the same, my friend.” Stefan connected his brother’s call.

“Stefan,” Thaddeus said. “We just received word that there was an attack on you and the COIN members. Are you all right?”

Stefan sighed. So much for staying out of the news. “I am fine.” He contemplated sharing about Amir but decided to hold off. Sometimes his brother had a loose tongue. “And yes, there was a bombing but we were not inside the limousine at the time.”

Thaddeus emitted a sound of relief. “Good. Now listen, Stefan. Father does not wish to frighten you but his condition is worse.” Thaddeus’s voice sounded anxious. “I think you should agree to the marriage with Daria and alleviate Father’s worries about leaving our country in turmoil.”

Stefan’s fingers tightened around the handset. “I do not intend to debate this matter with you, Thaddeus. I have made my decision and it stands.”

“But—”

Suddenly the lights flickered off, and Stefan tensed. A noise sounded. Footsteps. Something fell. Then a loud, shrill scream pierced the air, and Stefan’s blood went cold.

Jane…

Chapter Four

Jane screamed. Someone was attacking her, had grabbed her by the neck…

She grappled for something to use to defend herself, but her fingernails barely scratched the surface of the metal table, and she stumbled. The lab was pitch dark.

Who the hell was on top of her?

She struggled, pivoting to try to see his face, but a hand closed around her throat, choking her. Frantic, she raised her knee and kicked backward, thrusting her foot into her attacker’s shin.

He grunted and slammed his fist against the side of her head. Jane screamed again, flailing as she went down. Her head hit the corner of the table and pain ricocheted through her skull.

The darkness spun around her in a drunken rush, disorienting her. Then footsteps sounded. The back door to the lab swished open as if someone was leaving, but more footsteps pounded from the opposite direction.

Nausea clogged her throat as she pushed herself up to her knees and reached for the table edge to help her stand.

Suddenly a shadow crept into her vision, and she lurched into defense mode, threw her hands up and swung her fist toward her attacker.

The intruder caught her hands in his. “Jane, stop, it’s me! Stefan.”

Her breath rasped out as she fought the nausea again, but the voice registered.

The prince?

He took her by the arms and her knees buckled.

“Jane, are you all right?”

Jane sucked in a sharp breath. “Someone was here…attacked me.”

The prince gently smoothed the hair back from her face. She could barely make out his face in the dark, but his eyes shone in the sunlight beginning to peek through the slats of the blinds.

He pulled his hand away, and gasped at the blood on his fingers. “The gods, Jane, you’re bleeding.”

“The lights…” she said. “See if you can flip them back on. The evidence…I have to see if something is missing.”

“Forget the evidence,” he snarled. “You need medical treatment.”

Edilio suddenly raced up. “Prince Stefan, are you all right? I heard a scream.”

“I’m fine, but Jane was attacked. Search the building, and call an ambulance.” Edilio nodded and hurried through the door.

Jane gripped Stefan’s arm and tried to stand. “Find the lights. The breaker, in the hall. He must have tripped it.”

“First, you need medical attention.”

“No, I told you I’m fine,” Jane screeched. “Now get the lights.”

His long irritated sigh punctuated the tense silence. “Very well. But at least sit down.”

The room swirled again, stars dancing behind her eyes, and she clutched him, hating to show weakness and determined not to pass out. She would not be some helpless female. She was a crime investigator for heaven’s sake.

“You are bossy and insufferable,” he growled. But his hands were gentle as he helped her make her way to one of the chairs in the corner of the lab. She collapsed against the vinyl seat and leaned forward with her head between her hands, gulping air.

“Jane.” He brushed the back of her neck with his fingers. “Are you really all right?”

Gritting her teeth against the pain thrumming through her head, she reached up and squeezed his hand. “Yes. Now please, we’re wasting time while he escapes.”

He hesitated only another second before he raced from the lab. Jane blinked, intent on regaining her equilibrium, then ran her hand along the edge of the counter and found the phone. A second later she punched the number for security.

“Lock down the lab. We’ve been compromised. Suspect got away.”

“Roger that.” A brisk order to search the premises followed. “Do you need medical assistance?”

Jane hesitated. She hated to be babied, but she might need stitches. And documenting her attack was vital if they caught her assailant and went to trial. The prince’s security called an ambulance. “Alert Sheriff Wolf. I had evidence from the explosion in the lab. It might have been compromised. I’m going to check now to see if anything is missing.”

The lights suddenly flickered on, and she grimaced as she scanned the lab. Prince Lutece hurried in, his face a grim mask as he raked his gaze over her.

“You look like hell, Jane.”

A sardonic chuckle escaped her. “I thought princes were supposed to be charming.”

“Blood is not charming.”

“You’re right.” She eyed the evidence bags she’d logged in and frowned. “Dammit. The cell phone. It’s gone.”

STEFAN GROWLED deep in his throat. The attacker stole Amir’s phone.

Blast it. They might have lost a valuable piece of evidence that could lead them to the person behind the bomb attack.

And Jane—she looked so pale. Her eyes held hints of fear and pain, making his gut tighten with the need to soothe her.

Even worse, blood dotted her forehead, streaking her hair, reminding him that she’d been physically assaulted because of this case. Because of his friend.

A fact that infuriated him.

A fact that made him feel responsible.

He did not want to feel responsible for Jane Cameron, not a woman who seemed to snub her nose at his status.

Yet, he did want to alleviate her pain and fear.

His eyes fell on her hair, and his body hardened. During the attack she’d lost her ball cap, and her hair had come free of that ponytail. Her hair—it was golden brown and looked as silky as it had felt when he’d touched her earlier.

It also curled around her cheeks and made her look feminine and vulnerable.

Oblivious to his lustful thoughts, Jane pushed to her feet again but swayed, and he rushed to her. “Stay seated until the ambulance arrives.”

She sighed. “I’m fine. I need to make sure nothing else is missing.”

Stefan gritted his teeth.

He ached to pull her into his arms, hold her and comfort her. But the moment he stepped forward, she busied herself searching the evidence bags. “I hope security catches the bastard.”

He bit the inside of his cheek at her colorful language. “Did you see the assailant?” Stefan asked.

“No, it was too dark.” She angled her head toward him. “But I did manage to lift prints from the phone before the attack. I’ll plug those in the database and see if I get a hit.”

Footsteps sounded, and Stefan glanced through the glass partition and saw a man wearing a security uniform approaching along with Edilio. Two paramedics entered behind him with Sheriff Wolf on their heels.

“Ms. Cameron,” the guard said. “We searched the premises, but it appears your attacker escaped.”

“Do you not have security cameras?” Stefan asked.

“I checked them but he must have tripped them when he flipped off the power,” Edilio said.

A short, stout young man in a medic’s uniform hurried toward Jane. “Miss, are you the one who was accosted?”

Jane nodded. “Yes, but I’m fine, really. Just a bump on the head.”

“Let’s take a look.” He coaxed her to sit down, and Jane reluctantly allowed him to examine her head wound.

Sheriff Wolf moved inside, visually scanning the room. “What happened?”

“I catalogued the evidence into the system, then had started processing it when the lights suddenly flickered off.” She winced as the medic cleaned the cut. “Then someone attacked me from behind.”

The medic cleared his throat. “You might need a couple of stitches. We can transport you to the hospital—”

Jane shook her head. “Just fix me up with a butterfly bandage and I’ll be right as rain.”

“But you should go to the hospital and have a CAT scan,” he argued.

A skinny female medic approached Jane. “If you don’t stitch it up, you might have a scar.”

“I don’t care about a damn scar.” Jane gestured toward the other medic. “I’m not going to the hospital. Now I have to get back to work so bandage me or I’ll bleed all over the evidence.”

The medic insisted she sign a medical release denying hospital treatment, then placed a bandage on her forehead.

Stefan wanted to throttle the stubborn woman, but realized arguing with her was futile.

“Can you identify your assailant?” the sheriff asked.

“No,” Jane said. “It was too dark and he came at me from behind.”

“Coward,” Stefan muttered.

Jane swung her gaze toward him, and a small smile lifted the corner of her mouth.

“How do you know it was a male?” Sheriff Wolf asked. “Did he say anything?”

“His size, I guess. His hands were big.” She twisted her mouth in thought. “And when I kicked him, he grunted, deep like a man.”

Sheriff Wolf nodded. “Maybe he left his prints?”

Jane touched her throat absentmindedly, and Stefan’s jaw tightened. The bloody animal had tried to strangle her.

“No use. He was wearing gloves,” Jane said matter-of-factly.

“Did he take anything?” Sheriff Wolf asked.

Jane nodded. “The cell phone I collected at the crime scene.” She examined the evidence box. “The samples from the road and car seem to be intact,” she said. “And here are the blood samples from the car and the bomb particles. There were dozens of prints inside the limo, too.”

“I’ll file a report,” Sheriff Wolf said. “Keep me updated on the evidence once you finish.”

Jane agreed, then the sheriff and security guard left, and Edilio stepped into the hallway.

Stefan folded his arms. “My fingerprints will be among those in the limo,” Stefan said. “And so will the other dignitaries traveling with me. As I said, we took that limo into Dumont earlier in the evening.”

Jane’s eyes flickered with sudden understanding. “I know you’re concerned about the sheik. You think that you might all have been targets?”

Stefan could not deny the truth because Jane was too smart to already not have considered that theory.

“It is possible,” he said.

“Then why do you want to keep it from the press and the sheriff?” Jane asked bluntly. “They might be able to help you.”

There were not many people he trusted, and he did not offer that trust lightly. But this woman had nearly been killed because she was working this case, and perhaps because someone might have tried to murder Amir—and him and his friends.

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