Christmas Conspiracy. Robin Perini

weighed it down.

      Kat forced her eyes open, blinking painfully as light speared into her skull. A quick glance revealed an IV pole hanging beside her, hooked to her arm. Panic hit. Was she in a hospital? She couldn’t afford one. How long had she been out? Where were her children?

      She struggled to a seated position and tried to make sense of the room spinning around her. This looked more like a hotel than a hospital.

      What was going on?

      She couldn’t think clearly. Something important. She had to remember. Her thoughts scattered. She felt drugged. Whatever medication was in that IV had to go. She pulled at the bandages until she freed herself from the tube and the needle.

      A voice filtered in from the next room.

      “Rafe, I want you and Hunter on this one. I need people who know the players and the stakes.”

      It couldn’t be. The voice from three years ago. A voice that made her shiver with longing—and hurt. She’d thought never again to see the man who’d nearly stolen her heart. Logan Carmichael.

      His velvet tones had whispered in her ear in the dark. She’d shuddered under his touch, then she’d run, overwhelmed by what she’d felt for him. When she’d finally tried to reach him, she’d been turned away. Life, she’d learned all too well, gave no second chances.

      “You still have surveillance on the king and his entourage?” Logan listened, then let out a low curse. “The fool. I’ll be ready.”

      Logan’s voice was so cold, so deadly. Kat shook her head to clear it, then groaned. Why was she here in a hotel? She’d been at her weekend job. She’d been dreaming about Logan. Crazy dreams. Dangerous dreams about horses … and fire.

      Memories flashed. The fire! She gasped for air. “Logan!”

      She struggled to her feet and the room swirled around her.

      Someone had locked them in the barn.

      Someone had tried to kill them.

      Logan dashed into the room, catching her as she fell against the nearby bureau. “What are you doing out of bed?”

      She clung to him, hating the way the room spun in crazy circles. “I don’t know what we’re doing here, but I have to leave. Now. Oh, God, how long have I been out?”

      “A couple hours. You’ve been sedated.”

      “I have to go home.” The twins. They’d be upset. It had to be at least noon. And Paulina, the babysitter. Kat was so late. She tried to push past Logan. “I have responsibilities.”

      Logan placed her back on the bed, and pressed her shoulders into the down pillow. He hovered over her. “You were severely dehydrated, suffering from exhaustion, thrashing and crying out in your sleep. I couldn’t take a chance that you’d hurt yourself.”

      She stared into his face, struggling to keep it in focus, stunned he wasn’t a dream. She’d had enough over the past three years to wonder. She blinked. He was real. He’d changed. Oh, his brown hair was still cut short, a tad longer than a military cut, and he’d lost some weight, but more than that. His hazel eyes were stressed and tired in his lean face, but she also saw something in them she didn’t expect. Concern? Worry? For her?

      Feeling woozy, unable to help herself, she let her hand hover over the scar marring his cheek, a scar that hadn’t been there three years ago. She wanted to touch him, but she couldn’t let herself. She had more than her own wishes to think about now. “I need to go home. You have to take me there.”

      He clasped her hand in his. “Kat, it’s going to have to wait.”

      “Not happening, Logan. I need to leave and there’s something I have to tell you on the way. You’re not going to li—”

      The bedroom door slammed open.

      “What do you think you’re doing, Carmichael? You will not touch her.”

      A distinguished man, his salt-and-pepper hair perfectly styled, and dressed in a suit that must have cost two years’ salary, strode in. He acted as if he owned the world, and two hulking figures trailed behind him like mindless minions.

      Logan turned, shielding her from view. Kat shoved at him to move aside but he planted his feet and crossed his arms over his chest.

      “Are you trying to get her killed?” Logan’s soft voice dripped ice from every word. “I told you not to come here. What if you were followed?”

      One of the burly bodyguards pushed to the fore. “You will not speak to His Majesty in that tone.”

      Without moving, Logan stared the man down. “Back off, Sergei. I’m in no mood to play protocol games. I said I’d arrange the meet.”

      “And no one commands the King of Bellevaux,” the ruler snapped, his accent deepening. “My business cannot wait. I have less than two weeks to ensure my daughter doesn’t embarrass me or her country.”

      Kat leaned against the bed, the king’s words swirling in her mind. Okay, the sedative might still be wreaking havoc in her system, but the royal invasion had been doing a fine job of clearing her head until that bizarre comment. Who was this guy’s daughter?

      Logan’s voice turned lower and deadlier. “And I’m responsible for making sure Kat stays alive, which you don’t seem to care about since you kept her true identity from me until it was almost too late.”

      The king’s face reddened. “You found her. I’m here to claim her. Now step away from my daughter!”

      “Excuse me? I’m not an object, and I am definitely not your daughter.” Kat peered around Logan and tumbled over the side of the bed, landing in a heap. He knelt to help her, but she shoved him aside and stood, fighting the dizziness. “Logan, what’s going on? Who is this joker?” she asked, praying her head would stop pounding.

      Her ex-lover turned, and she gasped at the tension in his jaw making his scar stand out in relief. Logan let out a stream of air. “He’s your father. King Leopold of Bellevaux. You are Princess Katherine, his only heir.”

      No. This couldn’t be happening.

      “That’s why you showed up out of nowhere this morning? For him?”

      The truth flickered in Logan’s guilty gaze.

      A fledgling hope that he’d come for her after all this time went up in flames as hot and deadly as the barn fire. More and more of the sedative’s effect faded. She turned away from Logan to stare at the stranger who was supposedly her father. King Leopold. Impossible. She felt no bond with him.

      The man, wearing Armani, looked her up and down as if he were studying a filly to purchase. “Good cheekbones. Passable figure. Maybe we can gloss over the cowgirl foolishness. I think we can make something of her. Bring her,” he said to the man at his side and turned his back. “We’ll begin her training on the plane.”

      “Now hold on a minute—”

      Sergei started toward her and Kat stepped back, looking for an escape. “I’m not going anywhere, and you can’t make me.”

      “I can do exactly that,” the monarch said, his expression dangerous. “I am your father. And your king.”

      Kat’s knees quaked, but somehow she remained upright. “No. My father is dead. Mom told me—”

      “Your mother lied.” King Leopold raised his chin and narrowed his gaze, looking down on her. “You will come with me now and fulfill your duty. You will be announced as my successor in two weeks. As the future Queen of Bellevaux, there are naturally security concerns, so it’s best we get you to the palace immediately.”

      Kat could barely breathe. “Security concerns?” Her mind whirled as the morning’s events became clearer in her mind. “Like people coming after