Mollie Molay - The Duchess and Her Bodyguard

Logan choked back a laugh. “Commander,” he said jovially, “brace yourself. I think you’re in for a surprise.”

With Logan’s laugh ringing in his ears, Wade reluctantly gave up the possibility that, given enough time, he might have connected with the lady in white sometime during the party.

Logan led him back to the party and, to Wade’s bewilderment, straight to the side of the lady in white. At that point, the surprise Logan had promised him became the understatement of the year. Instead of acting as the escort of an innocent young girl as he’d been led to believe, his charge was the lady with the invitation in her exotic green eyes.

He took a deep breath and promised himself Undersecretary Logan hadn’t heard the last of this. A joke was a joke, but this was too much. And he wasn’t laughing.

Logan ignored Wade’s pointed look. “Your Grace, I’d like to introduce you to Commander Wade Stevens. As you requested, the commander will be your escort for the duration of your stay here in Washington. Commander, may I present Duchess Mary Louise of Baronovia.”

As requested?

Wade’s head swam as he acknowledged the introduction. Requested by whom? The lady in white herself?

He hadn’t set eyes on the duchess before tonight. And, outside of smiling at him over the rim of her flute of champagne, she hadn’t paid any real attention to him. There had to be a mistake, and one he would remedy the first chance he got.

“Delighted to meet you, Commander Stevens,” the duchess replied with a mischievous smile. She held out her hand. “I am looking forward to having you as my escort during my stay in your beautiful city.”

Wade glanced at the two Secret Service men hovering behind the duchess and eyeing him as if he were a suspect. Like it or not, he had to keep his questions for a later time when he and the duchess had more privacy. “Looks as if we’re going to be quite a cozy group,” he commented dryly.

After a glance over her shoulder, the duchess frowned. “As long as I have you as my escort, Commander, I’m sure I will not be needing anyone else.” She waved her hand in dismissal at the Secret Service men.

To give the men credit, they glanced at Wade and remained where they were.

Wade froze at her gesture. The sensuous duchess might have caught his attention, but her imperious royal manner was rapidly turning him off. It was time to make one thing clear: if he was going to be her escort, he intended to be in charge.

He gazed at her silently. Considering her age and her appearance, the Children’s Zoo was out. And along with it any other diversions intended for children.

“You won’t be needing the Secret Service?” he asked softly. When she shook her head, he turned to Undersecretary Logan. “This isn’t going to work, sir. Secret Service assistance is part of the package or the deal is off.”

Logan cleared his throat. “Excuse me, Your Grace, I’d like to have a moment with Commander Stevens.” At her cool nod, he drew Wade aside. “We have no choice in the matter, Commander. The request for your services came through Prince Alexis himself and has been sanctioned by everyone, with the possible exception of the president. I’ll see what I can do about making the Secret Service less conspicuous and more acceptable to the duchess, but I agree with you. They must remain.”

Logan turned back to the duchess and said apologetically, “The commander is right, Your Grace. There’s too much at stake here for you to go around D.C. without adequate protection. But I promise we will try to keep them in the background.”

The duchess handed her empty champagne flute to a passing waiter with an expression that confirmed Wade’s opinion of the lady. She was every bit as willful as she was beautiful.

“I want to see your beautiful city as an ordinary tourist,” she said with a smile clearly intended to charm the socks off of Logan, but wasn’t doing much for him. “I can hardly do it with an entourage. I’m sure the commander’s presence will be sufficient to protect me.” She patted Wade on his arm. “Right, Commander?”

Wade smothered a groan. It was bad enough that the duchess wasn’t the young girl he’d been led to believe. Children could be put in their place, but this was no child. The very adult duchess was a spoiled woman whose tempting lips and flashing eyes were set on charming him into going along with whatever she wanted.

Fortunately, he was experienced enough as a man and as a lawyer to know that when a woman uses her charms to get her way there’s bound to be trouble ahead. The trick was to stay one step ahead of the lady before she caused an international incident.

Bottom line, he sensed as he gazed down at her, was that her care and protection, with or without the Secret Service to back him up, promised to be a handful.

He glanced at the sculptured feminine hand that now clung to his arm. All his instincts to take advantage of the closeness she seemed to offer stirred, then died a quick death. He wasn’t a lawyer for nothing. Her smile was an act.

In his ten years with the Judge Advocate General Corps, he’d persuaded many a jury to see his side of a case before the court. This case was no different. Sooner or later he and the duchess were going to have to come to an agreement about the Secret Service, or his name wasn’t Wade Stevens. But not here in front of roomful of people. There was no point in creating a public spectacle of himself.

“Perhaps the duchess and I ought to have this discussion in private. Come to some sort of mutual understanding,” he quietly said to Logan. When Logan nodded, Wade motioned to the Secret Service men to hold off while he straightened out his charge. “Your Grace, please come with me.”

He offered his arm to the duchess and walked her to the library door. Before she could speak, he had led her into the library he’d left just moments before.

“Now see here, Your Grace,” he began as soon as the door closed behind him. “I don’t want to appear arbitrary, but there are some rules attached to the game we seem to be playing. Whether you like it or not.”

“Game?” The duchess wandered over to a floor-to-ceiling bookcase, drew out a leather-bound book and casually turned the pages. “I do not know what you’re talking about.”

“With due respect, Your Grace, I think you do,” Wade answered. “For starters, if you don’t mind the plain language, you’re going to have to knock off the royal act and come down off your high horse. If you’re serious about seeing D.C. as a tourist, fine. But you’re going to have to play strictly by the rules. My rules. The first of which is cooperating with the Secret Service. And,” he added grimly, “you might as well cut out the siren act to get your way. It isn’t going to work on me.”

The duchess thrust the book back on the shelf and turned to face Wade. Gold sparks of anger shot through her eyes. “Anything else, Commander?”

“Yes,” he said. “You’re going to have to stop acting like a duchess and more like a tourist from New Jersey.”

“But I am a duchess!”

“Maybe so, but with your regal bearing and custom-made clothing, no way in heaven are you going to pass for a typical tourist.” Nor like an ordinary woman, he added silently. Not with those green eyes and chestnut hair and a body sure to draw second glances.

He expected the duchess to protest. To use her royal status as an excuse to overrule this bodyguard-as-an-escort business. To his surprise she stared at him for a few moments before she bit her lip and spoke up.

“And how do you propose to change me into a typical tourist, Commander?”

He was a dead man.

Contrary to his hopeful expectations, instead of firing him, Duchess Mary Louise of Baronovia was actually going to go along with him! Grudgingly he had to give her credit. She’d not only gotten him for a bodyguard, she was smart. Smart enough to know when to fold.