Page 34 of Savage Games

“Is that Harris?”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

Richard snatched up the mobile. “The threat is worse than we thought and I want fucking answers. I want you and your team here now.” Looking at his watch, he said, “Take the helicopter. It usually takes about an hour and a half to get to Paris from London. I’ll expect to see you then.”

Richard handed the phone back to one of the women and took the one from the young man who breathlessly said, “The palace, Your Grace.”

“Tell her I need an Instrument of Consent by tomorrow,” said Richard into the phone. After a brief pause, he barked, “I don’t give a damn about royal protocol. Tell her it’s for Richard,” before he handed the phone back to the flustered young man.

The palace?

Royal protocol?

Holy shit! By her, did Richard mean the queen?

And what the hell was an Instrument of Consent?

Richard placed his hand on my lower back and extended his arm out to force the encroaching horde of staff to take several steps to the side as we passed.

The second woman was practically running to keep up with Richard’s long strides… as was I.

“The chef is at your residence preparing the meal. It will be ready when you arrive, Your Grace.”

Richard nodded. “And the other item?”

The woman’s cheeks flamed. “I’m still trying to get ahold of them. There is no answer.”

“In my contacts, there is the mobile number for Bellettini. Use it,” he responded.

That was the name of the CEO of Yves Saint Laurent.

What the hell was going on?

I wanted to ask, but by then we were being whisked down a long narrow hallway through a set of double doors. I had expected to at least see some form of customs, so it was a shock to feel fresh cool air hit my face and bare legs.

Outside, waiting along the curb, was a small motorcade; two security SUVs at the front and back of a long limo, and several motorcycle cops. Richard and I were quickly hustled into the limo. The moment the door shut, it seemed eerily quiet compared to the chaos we had just experienced.

As disconcerting as I had found the chaos, being alone and isolated in a limo with Richard seemed worse.

“I don’t understand. How? When?” I couldn’t even form the questions.

Richard gave me a tired smile and stroked my hair before wrapping his hand around my neck to pull me close against his shoulder. He kissed me on the forehead. “You should know by now… I always get what I want, when I want it. No matter the cost.”

As the motorcade pulled away from the Gare du Nord train station, I watched the lights of Paris through the car window and tried not to think about my future with Richard.

For the moment, I just wanted to be lulled by the beauty of the city and imagine we were a normal couple on a normal romantic holiday.

Despite the late hour, the city still hummed with activity. Couples walking arm in arm. Stylish women walking even more stylish little dogs. Outdoor cafés filled with laughing people leaning over tables littered with empty coffee cups and half eaten biscuits.

As we drove over the Seine on the Pont au Change, I caught my first glimpse of Notre Dame. It was sad to see the building looking so dark and cold, but you could see the outline of scaffolding enfolding her in its skeletal embrace.

As the motorcade turned right, I craned my neck to try to possibly catch a glimpse of the lights of the Eiffel Tower. I thought I could see the top but I couldn’t be sure.

Richard chuckled. “Don’t worry. I will take you to see the Eiffel Tower tomorrow.”

Realizing I was sitting on the edge of my seat, leaning over him, I abashedly shifted back and leaned into the plush cushions, trying to appear more like the sophisticated, world-traveled women I assumed he had dated as opposed to the awestruck young American girl I was.

“Do you take the elevator to the top with all the common mortals, or is there some top-secret entrance for Godlike billionaires?”

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