The Bodyguard (Norcross #4) - Anna Hackett Page 0,34

burgundy Henley that was snug enough to showcase his muscled biceps.

Rome spun. “Sofie.” He held out a hand.

She took it and moved closer.

“This is Ryder Morgan. He’s a former Air Force combat medic who now works as a paramedic.”

“Hello, Mr. Morgan,” she said.

“It’s nice to meet you, Princess Sofia. And it’s Ryder.”

“Thank you for coming at short notice.”

He lifted his chin, his gaze dropping to her hands. “Why don’t you take a seat? We can take care of those nasty scratches.”

Rome gripped her waist and lifted her onto a stool.

She smiled at him. Beside her, Ryder opened a huge, black bag resting on the island. Then he lifted one of her hands and started cleaning.

“Sofie,” Vander said. “I spoke with the police. Ryder’s brother, Hunter, is a detective with the San Francisco PD. Hunt said the guys who tried to grab you aren’t talking. He’ll keep trying, but these guys are professionals. Hunt got the impression that they were afraid of whoever hired them.”

She nodded. Another swipe of the antiseptic made her wince.

“Feet next.” Ryder crouched and started on her feet. The man grinned at her. “Never said this to a woman before, but you have pretty feet.”

She laughed at the man’s teasing. When she looked up, she saw Rome scowling.

“Your Tetanus shot up to date, Princess?” Ryder asked.

“Yes. I had one last year. And call me Sofie.”

“We need to increase security,” Rome said. “Take guards with us when we travel. Beef things up around the house.”

Her pulse jerked. That would make things trickier when she needed to sneak out. She cleared her throat. “Whatever’s necessary.”

Ryder finished putting bandages on the worst of her scratches.

“Her knees are scratched up too, Ry,” Rome said.

Ryder pushed up her trousers. “Ouch.”

Her knees were scraped up badly.

“You’ve got some bruises, too.”

She waved a hand. “That’s just from my own clumsiness.”

The paramedic tipped some more antiseptic solution onto a cloth. “Sorry if this hurts.”

“I’m sorry to hear more jewelry was stolen from your exhibition,” Vander said.

“It’s a real shame,” she murmured.

“I heard today that the fire killed someone in the house. They found a body in the ruins.”

She gasped, her heart kicking against her ribs. “Oh, no.”

“A young man. He was asleep in an upstairs bedroom.”

God, a life cut short. Sofie’s hands balled into fists. The Black Foxes had no regard for life.

When she looked up, she found Rome watching her. She blew out a breath and made herself relax.

But inside, anger burned.

She had to get the jewelry back.

And those responsible had to pay.

A poor man had lost his life. Like Tori. The bloody Black Foxes.

“They need to be caught,” she said.

Rome cocked his head. “They?”

Crap, had she given away the fact that she knew more than she should? “The thieves.”

“Ace is poking around,” Vander said. “Discreetly.”

Ryder finished and patted her leg. “Maybe Robin Hood will get the jewelry back again.”

“We don’t need some adrenaline junkie vigilante involved,” Rome said.

Sofie kept her face blank. Then she feigned a yawn. “I think I need some rest. Thank you, Ryder.”

“My pleasure.” He shot her a killer grin.

Rome tipped her chin up. “Okay?”

She nodded.

“You did good today, Sofia,” Vander said. “Kept a cool head.”

“Not really, but I was aware that if I didn’t fight back, they’d take me.”

“You’ve had some self-defense training,” Rome said. “Heard you hit all the right spots on your attackers.”

She nodded. “I’ve worked with the palace security a little.”

“Get some sleep. If you need anything, I’m down here.”

She saw no glimpse of anything personal in his face. She really wanted to see that heated desire again.

But maybe not with two other men in the room.

With a smile and a nod, she headed upstairs. She locked her bedroom door and pulled out her black laptop.

Her belly hardened. She had a job to do. She needed to find the tiara and get it back.

Needed to find out who was responsible for the death of an innocent man.

Tonight.

It was time to get to work.

She did a little creative hacking and read the police reports.

There. There were security pictures of the masked thieves. They weren’t great quality, but they were clear enough to see that one had a tattoo on his forearm. She tapped her nails on the edge of her laptop. It was a coat of arms.

A specific coat of arms. For the old Russian Empire.

She knew someone with the same tattoo, but on his bicep. Andrei Petrovich. A Russian prince.

Sofie pulled up information on his family and associates.

He was a loud man, who’d copped a feel