Royal Protocol by Christine Flynn Read Free Book Online

sounded, too, as she slowly rose and rested her hand on the back of the chair. “If you’d kindly arrange it, I’ll meet with the speechwriters in an hour,” she said to her.
    Gwen could barely get through some of those greeting-card commercials without choking up. Seeing her friend’s distress, her throat began to feel suspiciously tight. “Here or in the royal office?”
    “Here. Please. You might also have Mrs. Ferth start canceling preparations for the state dinner,” she added, turning to her rooms. “And I could use some tea and headache tablets.”
    Fully prepared to do as she’d been asked, Gwen gave an automatic little curtsy. But the door had no sooner closed behind the queen than Harrison blocked her path to the telephone.
    “That dinner can’t be canceled.”
    The burning in her throat gave way to a choke of disbelief as Gwen blinked at his very solid-looking chest.Certain she had misunderstood, she looked up at him as if he’d spoken in an utterly alien dialect.
    “I beg your pardon?”
    “You can’t cancel, it,” he repeated, his tone as unyielding as his stance. “It’s too important.”
    “Considering everything else that’s going on, a dinner is too important?” Incredulous, she stared up at him, crossing her arms beneath her breasts. Thinking better of the position when his glance immediately dropped between her lapels, she settled for clasping her hands in front of her.
    “Calling these preparations off is the very first thing we should do, if for no other reason than to make Prince Owen’s captors think Penwyck isn’t going to sign the treaty. That would keep the prince safe. At least for a little while,” she amended, having no idea how his safety could be ensured after that.
    “It can’t be canceled,” he repeated flatly. “Just continue with your plans for the celebration.”
    At his stubborn insistence, or maybe it was the order, the delicate arches of her eyebrows drew toward center. “I don’t believe the queen or anyone else cares to think about celebrating with the king ill, one of her sons off climbing mountains heaven-only-knows where, another son missing and an estranged member of the royal family standing in for the Crown. In case you didn’t notice, Her Majesty is upset.”
    She was upset, too—with the inconceivable turns of events, the uncertainty of their outcomes and with him. Especially with him. He’d shown no compassion whatsoever for their queen.
    He betrayed no sympathy for her now, either. “None of this is about people having a good time at a party,” he informed her, the frustration he’d held back finallytaking hold. “It’s about perception and power and Penwyck’s credibility as a nation with the United States, Majorco and some two-bit subversives who don’t have the guts to play by the rules. The alliance will take place. It will be celebrated as planned. It’s what the king wanted, and it’s what he’ll get.”
    “At the cost of his son?” she demanded, still torn by the pain she’d seen in her friend’s face.
    For a moment Harrison didn’t say a word. With her eyes locked on his, he realized how easily she would be able to push him to reveal more than was wise to defend his decisions. Feeling a certain sympathy for the men who’d come up against Mata Hari, his irritated glance moved from the blue fire flashing in her eyes to the challenging tilt of her chin. When he realized he was staring at her incredibly tempting mouth, he jerked his glance back to hers.
    “You do your job,” he growled. “I’ll do mine.”
    “I take my orders from the queen.”
    Silence fell like a rock.
    In that echoing stillness, Gwen suddenly realized she was shaking…inside, where the man looming over her couldn’t possibly notice. But the nerves in her stomach were quivering all the same.
    She was normally utterly correct in protocol, and never would she have dreamed of challenging the man regarded by many as being nearly as powerful as the