Bait by Leslie Jones Read Free Book Online Page B

royal households. Also between the princess and the many charities and institutions for which she is patroness. I act as a national and international political and social advisor.” Her eyes snapped. “I do not take dictation.”
    Gabe felt a flush stain his cheeks. Well, and hadn’t she put him in his place? What would she have said if he told her she had great gams?
    â€œMy apologies, Dame Deni. I actually do know who and what you are. Your thirty-­two years of ser­vice to the royal family has been exemplary. You are a vital part of the princess’s success, and everyone knows it.”
    She huffed, but after a moment amusement flickered in her eyes. “You are having a jest with me, then?”
    â€œYes, ma’am. I apologize.”
    She eyed him for a moment, then threw back her head and laughed. “Few dare nowadays. It is refreshing.”
    Deni led the way into the apartment, and he stepped inside the richest, most opulent home he’d ever seen. Apartment? The term became meaningless as he took in the forty-­foot ceiling, the gray stone laced with golden tones stretching from the foyer to the entrance of what he assumed was supposed to be a sitting room, which was all curlicues of gold in faux columns and velvet-­looking furniture. Totally outside his comfort zone. Still, he was here to disappear into the background. That he did exceptionally well.
    He walked into the sitting room and experienced a jolt of unreality. A twin set of beautiful women stood by the floor-­to-­ceiling windows. One was the Crown Princess Véronique de Savoie; the other was plain Christina. So, this was a test. He strode across the floor and stopped a few feet away from them, scanning each face closely. There were minor physical differences between them—­but which was which?
    â€œGood afternoon, Your Highness,” he said to the woman on his left. A hint of surprise and even satisfaction flashed through her eyes. He turned to the other woman, who wore an identical expression. “And Your Highness.”
    â€œPlease, monsieur, address me simply as Ronnie. It will make things much easier, non ?” The first one held out an elegant hand. He took it, wondering what he was supposed to do with it. Kiss the knuckles like he was some servant? In the end, he merely shook it gently and released her fingers. The princess on his right offered her hand as well.
    â€œWe are grateful for your experience and willingness to aid us in this difficult time,” she said. Surely, this was Christina? “My fiancé has been terribly concerned.”
    â€œ Oui . Perhaps you know of him? Lord Brumley, Baron of Daversporth? He sits as a member of the House of Lords,” said the one on the left.
    Would the real Princess Véronique expect him to know a member of the British aristocracy? Mistake number one for Christina. Unless the princess was merely being polite? She’d said “know of him,” not “know him.” Maybe Lord Brumley had been in the news? Now that he thought about it, maybe he did remember hearing the name, in conjunction with a foreign aid package. Maybe.
    Damn it! He’d worked with Christina. He should be able to tell them apart, but he couldn’t. Their stance, facial expressions, hand gestures, and accents were all identical.
    â€œParliament is in session, so we are unlikely to see him,” the other one said. “He will be no hindrance to our little ruse.”
    â€œThat makes things easier.” Well, he had a fifty-­fifty shot. Gabe inclined his head to the woman on his left. “Some members of my team will be arriving shortly to take you to the safe house. They’ll turn you over to Trevor’s team, who are waiting for you. You have to do what they tell you, when they tell you. It’s the only way I can guarantee your safety. Do you think you can do that?”
    She glanced across at the other princess. “We