Wulfie and Rae were back there.
Dieterwas back there.
When she turned, Wulf and Rae were lying on the ground. Wulf reached for her and covered her with his body.
Dieter was falling on top of both of them, shielding them both.
But he was looking at Flicka, his storm-cloud gray eyes wide as he watched her and drifted toward Wulf.
Flicka reached toward him, her hand closing on empty air.
Behind her, Pierre’s voice ordered, “Quentin,maintenant!”
An arm cinched her waist, and she was yanked from behind into the SUV.
Quentin Sault, Pierre’s head of security, had grabbed her and thrown her in the back seat.
Still watching out the vehicle’s door, she saw some other wedding guests running toward them to take shelter in their car, but one of the security guys slammed the door as the SUV jumped forward.
Behind her, Pierre asked, his voice frantic, “Are you all right? Were they shooting at you again?”
His arm slid around her waist.
“You are okay, yes?” He looked at her dress, stroking her sides.
Flicka swiveled in his grasp as the speeding SUV buffeted them from side to side as it tilted around corners. “I’m fine, right?” She looked at the blue dress she wore, and she was rumpled and wrinkled, but not bloody. Nothing hurt. “Yes, I’m fine. I’m fine. You’re okay?”
“Yes, Quentin shoved me inside just as the first round hit.” Pierre held her to his chest. “After yesterday, I didn’t know what to think.”
She broke his embrace and leaned over the front seat. “Who was down? Was Wulf hurt? Rae? Georgiana?What happened?”
Quentin was on his cell phone, speaking in rapid Monegasque to someone. He leaned his head back and told her, “We have no accounts of injuries. The area is cleared. I am liaising with Luca Wyss of the Hannover team. He will give us specifics. I will tell you if anyone was wounded.”
“Tell me if Wulfram von Hannover is all right!”
Quentin spoke into the phone, then to her, “He is in his car, unhurt and secure.”
“And Rae Stone? And Georgiana? And Dieter? And Alexandre?”
“Who are Georgiana, Dieter, and Alexandre?” Quentin asked.
“Georgiana Oelrichs or Johnson. I’m not sure which she would say. Dieter Schwarz, who is Wulf’s head of security.You should know that.Alexandre Grimaldi, Pierre’s cousin and third in line for Monaco’s throne. You should have been protecting him. You should know where he is.Why don’t you know where the number three is?”
Quentin talked on the phone some more, mostly just sayingyesornoafter he gave them the names to check on. He covered his phone and told her, “I have been transferred to Dieter Schwarz. He is calm and professional and, I assume, unhurt. Neither Luca nor Dieter have information about Georgiana or Alexandre. We will add them to our must-trace list.”
“Thank you.”Flicka sat back in the seat.
Pierre wrapped his arms around her. The smoky scents of whiskey and his aftershave wafted from his collar. “We’re not going to the supper. We’re going straight to the plane. I want you safe at home, inside the Prince’s Palace in Monaco. It’s a fortress. We’ll be safe, there.”
Flicka rested against him.
He kissed her temple. “My security men will make sure you’re protected.”
Texts
Flicka von Hannover
I hid the texts from Pierre.
