Page 33 of His Forever Princess

"They've apprehended him. He claims he was working alone, but we'll sweep the hotel. Local police are en route."

A lone gunman. Gideon felt some of his tension drain away.

Alessandra was still trembling in his arms, though she'd composed herself and now swept one hand across her cheeks.

"I imagine you still want to meet with the ambassador,” he said quietly.

She glanced up, the tip of her nose still red. She was so close. All he had to do was lean forward, close those few inches...

But he didn't. This was real life. Alessandra was still a member of the royal family, and now a TV camera had entered the room. Some reporter must've gotten wind of the guards' movements and followed them.

Two guards were already ushering the cameraman and reporter out, but Gideon knew better than to make a spectacle. Even though he dearly wanted to.

Alessandra took a half-step back, and he let his hands fall away.

"Is it safe?" she asked, her words encompassing both him and the guard.

"We're sweeping the conference room floor first. The ambassador is already here, and his security team is frantic to ensure his safety."

"I'd like to sign today," Alessandra said. "This is too important to delay."

He'd known she would say that.

As the guard faded back, she glanced up at Gideon almost shyly. "I worried you’d gone to the airport."

His heart leaped. Worried was good. “No airport.”

"No. Because...?"

"Because there are things I need to say."

She was looking at him with such a hopeful, warm look that he wanted to sweep her in his arms and kiss her.

And of course, an aide chose that moment to interrupt. "Your Highness, they're ready for you."

Duty called.

It was only a matter of minutes before Alessandra was ushered into a large conference room. He remained at her side, mostly because of how tightly she was gripping his hand. Inside the room, a dais showed where she would stand, along with the ambassador. There were fewer photographers and reporters than he'd expected. And a larger security force, the men in dark suits outnumbering the press.

He attempted to let go of Alessandra's hand as she neared the stage, to fade back and stand against the wall, out of the limelight.

She turned to him. And didn't let go.

"Come up there with me."

He shook his head. "My place—"

"Is right next to me."

Maybe she was still frightened.

"Not because of any threats." Or maybe she'd read his mind. "Because I need you beside me."

His heart thumped hard. "What about—" He cut himself off as he glanced to the stage. There wasn't room on that little platform for both him and Arnault.

Except Arnault was nowhere in sight.

"There's a lot I need to talk to you about," she murmured. "He isn't here. And he won't be. I want it to be you, standing beside me."

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