Page 88 of The Midnight Princess
“That seems dangerous.”
“Nils?” she prompts. Grabbing a heavy wrench, she bangs it against a metal work table.Pop, pop, pop.
At the sound, I freeze. Nils moves fast, shoving me up against the car, shoving my head down as he fumbles for the handle, yanking on it several times. Time slows to a crawl, and all the while, Alma keeps hitting the table.
After a few frantic seconds, Nils relaxes and I straighten, pushing a hand through my hair and smoothing my tie with an unconscious gesture.
“Chol nia, what was that?”
She throws the wrench down with a clatter. “That was the sound of shots fired. In the event of a real-life emergency, having a closed door wastes precious seconds. If something happens, the safest place is to bundle you back into the car and speed you to a safe place. Your security can’t waste precious seconds trying to get the door open.”
“Has that ever happened to you?” The thought makes my blood turn to ice.
Her neck tightens, and she picks up the wrench, returning it to its home. “Historically, Sondmark hasn’t had a lot ofassassination attempts. The nineteenth century was different, of course. Anarchists were always blowing up carriages or knifing grand duchesses on holiday.”
She’s not looking at me, and her lips are dry as she continues. “Vorburg has had a worse time, I think—”
Doesn’t she know I know when she’s hiding? I cut her off, pinning Nils with my gaze. “Has she ever had her security compromised?”
He nods. “A few times. The one that taught us the most happened more than a decade ago. A union strike got out of hand, and we were lucky no one had a gun. One of them made it into the car.”
“He got right out again,” Alma rushes, bundling the memory away.
I pin Nils with a look.
“Because she ordered the driver out of the car and refused to take the assailant to the palace.” He glances at Alma. “Nerves of steel, that one.”
She shakes her head. “Thank you very much, Nils. I’ll take it from here.”
The head of security jogs off, and Alma steers me to the Mercedes. A flame ignites at her touch.
She pushes me onto the seat, hands braced on the roof and the door, trapping me with her frame. I want to wrap my arms around her waist and pull her inside, to make a little trouble in the backseat of a car like a couple of kids.
“Jacob.” Her voice snaps me out of my thoughts. “You have to remember the security implications of getting out of a car. No matter what flourishes I add next, don’t forget that Nils already taught you the only thing you have to know. If you always do what your security team says, you’ll be in good hands.”
Her eyes are intent, and I nod. “Do what they say,” I repeat. “I won’t forget.”
“Good. Now I’ll help you with the aesthetics.”
“I have an aesthetics problem?” I hold her eyes. This has been the most difficult week of my life, and I can’t stop wanting her.
“Stop it,” she whispers. For a second, I see how weak she is for me.
Alma clears her throat. “Most of your paparazzi shots will be as you cover this stretch of ground. Get it right, and you’ll be in control of the press rather than them being in control of you. Now…” She pushes me deeper into the car and wedges herself in the narrow space between me and the door she closes behind her. The dark interior of the Mercedes feels like a cave at twilight, embers dying in the fire. No one can see through these windows. It would take so little to bend my head.
She catches my expression and tilts her chin, exposing the column of her neck.
“Stop it,” I whisper.
Her lashes flicker in triumph but she hasn’t forgotten that I’m here to get an education. “You won’t have a skirt to manage, so it’s relatively straightforward. The trick is to be simple and direct,” her hand touches my knee, and I grip the leather seat, trying not to go deaf and blind with wanting her.
“Try not to twist too much as you exit,” she continues. “Left leg out, straighten, followed by the right. Fasten your suit button—” Her lips twitch.
“What?”
“That’s the picture they’ll post, if you get it right—you buttoning up your suit.”
“Why?”
