Chapter 14
“Where the hell is she?” Falk growled, ready to tear apart every door in this damn palace until he found Ciara.
“She went out through this door, Your Highness,” one of her bodyguards explained.
Falk looked at the man, but had to tamp down on his increasing anger when he recognized the worry in the younger man’s eyes. If her bodyguards were concerned, that meant that this was really bad.
“Check every door. Even if it’s locked, check inside.” He thought about that for a moment, then pointed to the cluster of guards. “Especially if it’s locked. Is there someone with a master key for the rooms in this area?”
A member of the cleaning staff ran down the hallway, a set of keys in her hand. “There isn’t a master key, Your Highness, but I have the keys to all the doors in this section of the palace. Other guards are searching the rest of the palace.”
Falk took the keys and hurried to the back hallway. He searched every room and storage closet. Behind the tenth door, he found Ciara lying on the floor.
For a moment, he nearly lost his mind, thinking that she’d been killed. Bending down, he touched the silky skin on her neck and, with a groan of relief, found a pulse. It was too fast, but steady.
“She’s alive!” he snapped when two of her bodyguards hovered behind him, trying to see her over his shoulder.
Gently, he rolled her onto her back. Then, with gentle touches, he searched her body for wounds. When he found nothing, he looked at her face. She’d been crying. There were mascara streaks going down her cheeks.
With infinite care, he lifted her into his arms. When he stood up, he looked at the closest guard. “Take me to her room. And summon a doctor.”
The group of guards backed up, wary now. Falk strode down the hallway, following behind another guard who was literally running to lead the way. “Keep to the back hallways,” he ordered. “I doubt that Ciara wants anyone to know that something happened tonight.” He thought about Ramit and Maggie and how blissfully happy they’d looked tonight. This was their night and he suspected that Ciara had stepped out for a breath of air because she was upset with him, and didn’t want to ruin the gala.
Berating himself for being such an ass, he carried Ciara down the back hallways. These weren’t as beautifully decorated as the main hallways, but they were more efficient, more direct. The back hallways wound through the rooms, allowing the palace servants to easily get from one area of the palace to the next without disturbing the occupants or guests. It was the same at his palace, but he wasn’t familiar with these back hallways. It was something he should explore though.
But not until he figured out what had happened tonight. Had Ciara stepped into the cleaning closet to escape him and the door had locked automatically?
No, that didn’t make sense. Which meant that the door to the closet only locked from the outside, in order to keep people from pilfering cleaning supplies. If it locked from the outside, then why was Ciara locked in the closet?
The answer made his temper flare all over again. Someone had locked her into the closet!
A door opened and Falk carried Ciara into a large, open suite. He looked around, then followed the bodyguard to the next room. It was her bedroom. The space was decorated with soft, pale pinks and sheer, white curtains. There was a large, crystal chandelier hanging over the center of the room. It was the exact opposite of his own bedroom which was done up in shades of dark brown and forest green.
But this style felt right. It looked like Ciara, all pretty and feminine.
Gently, he lowered her down onto the bed. “Where’s the palace doctor? And don’t let Ramit know that anything has happened tonight. He’ll find out soon enough.”
The guard nodded, then murmured something into a hidden microphone.
Meanwhile, Falk stared down at Ciara, brushing her pretty, dark hair off her face. The elaborate twist was completely undone. The silky locks draped over her unconscious features, making her look softer, more beautiful.
“Ciara,” he whispered, brushing his lips against hers. “You’re safe now.” It was reminiscent of an old movie he’d heard about, but at this point, he’d do anything to make her better.
Unexpectedly, her lashes fluttered. Her caramel colored eyes stared up at him, a slow smile curved her pretty lips. “Falk,” she whispered back. A moment later, her fingers fluttered to his hair, then the tip of her index finger brushed against his frowning mouth. “What’s wrong? Why are you angry with me?”
He kissed the tip of her finger. But in that moment, he also heard Ciara gasp. “Where am I?” And she tried to sit up.
“Relax,” he urged, pressing her shoulders back against the mattress.
“Someone…I was locked in a…!” she stopped, her eyes huge with a fear that he didn’t understand. Even as that understanding dawned on him, he watched as Ciara struggled to hide her panic.
“Talk to me, habibi ,” he urged softly, needing to hear what had happened.
But even as he urged her to explain, he watched as Ciara tamped down on her emotions, suppressing the fear, banking it away so that she could deal with it when she was alone again.
“Ciara, what happened to you?” he asked again, pressing one of her hands in his, needing her to trust him.
“Nothing. I was just…” she looked wildly around. One hand flew to her hair. “What happened to my hair?”
“You were locked in a storage closet, love,” he explained, trying to smooth out the rough edges of his voice, not wanting to panic her further. “You must not have realized that the door locked automatically.” He lied, but he didn’t want her to know that someone had done it deliberately.