She remembered vividly the picture of Bennett lying on the stone floor of the terrace, the blood seeping out of him and onto the dark rock. It took little imagination to see Alexander there.

She could lose him. Though she knew he wasn’t hers, had never been hers, the threat of losing him clenched the muscles of her stomach. Whether or not he loved her, whether or not he trusted or respected her, she wanted him alive and whole.

And the forty-eight hours were up.

Perhaps it had been only a threat. Giving in to fatigue and nerves, she leaned back against the cool wood of the door and shut her eyes. The Bissets weren’t taking it seriously. If they were, wouldn’t she have seen extra guards at the gate? Wouldn’t security have been tightened around the palace? Because she had checked personally, she knew Armand was in Cordina, meeting with the Council of the Crown. The rest of the royal family were keeping both official and social engagements as usual.

And the forty-eight hours were up.

Nothing was going to happen. Anything could happen. Why did it seem that she was the only one wrapped up in nerves?

Royalty! she thought, and pushed herself away from the door. Did they think that because their blood was blue it couldn’t be shed? Did they think that a title worked as an invisible shield against gunfire? Even Bennett refused to listen to her. In fact, he wouldn’t even discuss it with her. Trust them to bind themselves together in this. But all she could see was the picture of wagons drawing into a circle as Indians attacked.

Enough, Eve warned herself. She was through losing sleep over them, all of them. She had a company to run and plays to produce. She’d leave the Bissets to run their own lives and their own country.

Then she heard footsteps, whispers. And froze.

Her first reaction was quick and primitive. Run. Almost as it formed came another. Protect.

Eve braced herself against the wall, breathing deeply. Her legs spread, knees bent, her body turned slightly, she lifted her arms to complete the fighting stance. Warriors had used it for centuries when facing an enemy with no more than body and wit.

As the footsteps came closer, she drew her right arm back, her shoulders set straight as a ruler. She took one step forward, leading with her stiffened open hand. Her breath came out in a whoosh. She stopped a scant half inch from Bennett’s straight, aristocratic nose.

“Damn, Eve, I didn’t think you’d be that upset about me dating one of your people.”

“Ben!” With muscles gone limp, Eve collapsed against the wall. She’d gone white as a sheet and he could do nothing but grin. “I might have hurt you.”

Healthy masculine pride came to the rescue. “I doubt it. But what are you doing lurking around the corridors?”