Royal Wedding Threat. Rachelle McCalla

turned his attention to Ava next. “Are you okay?” He had her still tucked tight against him, but pulled back just far enough so he could see her face.

      One red-nailed hand clutched his shirt. She blinked up at him. “What was that?”

      Even more disheveled than after her last brush with death, the wedding planner didn’t look at all her usual prickly, put-together self. Jason felt his heart twist with sympathy. “That,” he groaned as he rolled onto his back in preparation for sitting up, “is proof that whoever bombed your car this morning is targeting you specifically.”

      * * *

      Ava pinched her eyes shut and held tight to Captain Selini’s shirt. She didn’t like the man—couldn’t stand him most days—but right now she’d have gladly buried her face against his shoulder and sobbed.

      The captain spoke rapidly into his earpiece, instructing his dispatcher to send men in a car. But his words came in shallow gasps and his face turned deep red as he struggled to breathe.

      “Are you okay?” Ava asked in a whisper, scrutinizing his features as she awaited his response. Had the car simply knocked the wind from his lungs, or was he seriously injured?

      Her conscience stabbed her. If she’d waited to cross the street with him as he’d said, would they still have been hit? The car had struck him directly and thrown him hard against the cement. What if he died because she hadn’t listened?

      It occurred to Ava as she stared at his face that the captain wasn’t as old as she’d assumed him to be, in spite of the early gray that flecked his hair. For all the times she’d argued with him, she’d never bothered to look at him closely—part of her personal policy against getting close to any person in any way. But now as she watched him from inches away, she realized he was hardly any older than she was.

      Jason Selini groaned as he sucked in a breath.

      Ava rolled onto her side, out of his way as he struggled to sit up. “Can I help you?” she asked, extending one hand, realizing only when she saw that her hands were empty that she’d left the plans for Princess Anastasia’s wedding in the car. Suddenly the plans didn’t seem so important. The captain appeared to be in real pain.

      “Is your back broken?”

      Jason winced. “I’m wearing body armor.” He strained to breathe. “That took the bulk of the blow, probably saved us both, but my steel plate is dented now.” Captain Selini grasped the steps as he pulled himself to standing. “Let’s get off this street.”

      Suddenly fearful that the dark car might return, Ava hurried to her door and let them into the small shared foyer, then led the way to her apartment door, unlocking it carefully.

      “Wait.” Jason’s hand covered hers. “They know where you live. They were waiting for us.” He ran his hands around the door frame. Ava assumed he was checking for trip wires or a triggering device of some nature.

      Fear pounded from Ava’s heart to her ears in one beat. “They’d have to come through the front door to get to this one. They’re both locked.”

      “Open it slowly.” The captain relented, straining to breathe, his face frightfully red.

      Wishing she could hurry and help the captain before he passed out, Ava nonetheless did as instructed, watching and waiting, ready to spring away if the captain gave any sort of signal at all.

      But nothing happened. Her apartment looked the same way it always did—blank white walls, minimal decor, honey-oak wooden floor gleaming in the midday sunlight.

      Captain Selini clutched his chest as he stepped inside, talking into his earpiece, between gasping breaths reporting on what had happened.

      “Are you sure you’re all right?” Ava closed the door behind him, then peered up into his face as he bent over, his face more purple than red.

      “My armor.” The captain twisted to one side, grimaced and turned back again, panting. “It’s cutting into my diaphragm.”

      “Do you need to take it off?”

      “Can you help me?”

      Ava wasn’t sure what to do, but she figured the captain must be in terrible pain to ask her to help him. Quickly, she unbuttoned the front of his uniform. Purple-faced and fumbling, he explained to her the straps and fasteners, and she pulled him free of the steel-plated body armor.

      He straightened immediately, his white T-shirt moving against his well-muscled back and shoulders as he pulled in a real breath for the first time since the car had struck, and flexed his brawny arms backward, testing his range of motion slowly.

      For a moment, all Ava could do was stare. She’d always assumed the captain, like all the other guards, was strong. They had physical-fitness requirements for their job, no doubt, so of course they worked out. But she wasn’t at all aware of how very physically fit the captain was until he threw his beefy arms up over his head and flexed his muscles, pulling in a deep breath as he assured himself of his full mobility.

      Ava’s mouth went dry and she watched him in silence. No, he wasn’t as old as she’d assumed. The man appeared to be youthful and fit and actually almost attractive, now that she paid attention. Of course, he had that permanent frown line between his eyebrows that made him seem older. But other than the ever-present scowl on his face, Captain Selini was...handsome.

      Rather than gawk, Ava returned to the tiny kitchenette that adjoined her open living space. “Can I get you something to drink, or an ice pack? What can I do?”

      “Get packed before that guy returns.”

      “Was he a guy?” Ava asked as she stepped from the kitchenette to the bedroom to gather her things.

      “I don’t know. The glare of sunlight on the windshield made it difficult for me to see him, but I thought the driver looked male. Did you get a look at him?”

      “I barely saw the car at all,” Ava confessed. She pulled out her duffel bag, then stared at her open closet and tried to think. How long was she planning to be gone? What should she pack? And what if the man who’d tried twice now to kill her showed up again? Perhaps she ought to choose more practical footwear. She only had eight days until Prince Alexander’s wedding. The adventures of the morning had already disrupted her schedule.

      She gulped a breath, trying to clear her head, to focus on what she needed to pack and not think any more about what it had felt like to be in Captain Selini’s arms. He had such very nice arms. And his manly scent was alluring, as well. That was another thing for her not to think about.

      “What can I do to help?”

      Ava spun around to find the captain standing in her doorway, looking very uncaptain-like in his T-shirt. Instead he looked like any normal person, but with extra-strong arms that had wrapped around her and saved her from the car. The terror she’d felt in that moment tore through her again, and she shuddered to think how close they’d both come to horrific injury, or worse. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

      “I never said I was.”

      “Can I get you an ice pack, then?”

      “You can get packed so we can get out.” The captain stepped into the small room, making it feel that much tinier with his wide shoulders occupying so much of the space.

      “How long do I need to pack for?”

      “A couple days should be fine. We can send a team back later to get the rest. Just grab the necessities, or I’ll do it for you. We need to get you to safety as soon as possible. I need to figure out what’s going on.”

      Rather than let the captain make good on his threat to select her wardrobe choices for her, Ava tossed clothes into the bag. “What do you think is going on?” she asked as she darted toward her bathroom for everything else she’d need.

      “Somebody’s trying to kill you.” The captain’s tone