Free Bait by Leslie Jones Page B

Princess Véronique would be the highlight of their miserable stay. Lifting their spirits also increases their odds of survival, you know.”
    â€œI’m not willing to risk the children. It would be safer if we weren’t there.” Her empathy inexplicably warmed him.
    â€œI disagree. Also, it’s the perfect venue for my first public appearance as Ronnie. Low-­profile, small audience. If your guys have the back end covered, nobody could get to me. Assuming, of course, they wouldn’t blow up the hospital.” Her eyes widened. “They wouldn’t, would they?”
    He didn’t think so. He and his team had, in fact, discussed that in great detail. The original assassination attempt had been a clumsy shot from a fair distance, indicating an amateur. Either the princess or her fiancé could have been the target; and, when the bullet went wide, the assassin vanished rather than start spraying bullets into the crowd. In fact, they had concluded the hospital visit would be safe enough for the patients. He’d vetoed the visit hoping Christina would change her mind and stay inside the palace.
    Could he now afford to be seen as changing his mind?
    Looking into her eyes, he decided that, yes, he could. After all, he needed her cooperation. They needed to be able to trust one another; and, at the moment, trust seemed an impossibility. His decision certainly had nothing to do with the soft plea in her eyes.
    â€œGabe? Would the children truly be at risk?”
    Eyes colored green to match Véronique’s. He found he preferred her own light brown color. He jerked his gaze away from her and focused, instead, on the rainbow spray created by another fountain up ahead.
    â€œI believe this assassin will make a play for you in the most public place possible, with lots of ­people and even camera crews. I’m not ruling anything out, but if he tries again very soon, the Veteran’s Hospital opening or the villa in Grasvlakten would be my picks.” Sweeping his gaze across the open space of the gardens, he added, “The first attempt happened in a public venue.”
    â€œPrincess Véronique attended a modern dance performance at Le Monnaie Opera House in Brussels on March second with her fiancé and his sister,” Christina said.
    As he was well acquainted with every detail of the attempt on Ronnie’s life, Gabe could only assume Christina wanted to impress upon him that she’d done her homework. She grew quiet as they passed an elderly ­couple sitting on a bench, heads close and hands clasped.
    â€œThey left after the performance and were walking across the street to have a nightcap at The Dominican,” she continued, when they were alone again. “Princess Véronique had just stepped past the gate when the wall lamp next to her head shattered. The shot came from farther down Rue Léopold, where it crosses Wolvengracht.”
    â€œFrom the roof,” Gabe confirmed, before she started describing the dimensions of the dome or the caliber of the rifle used. “Not far. Maybe a hundred, hundred and fifty yards. An easy shot for a professional. Since he missed, he either meant to, or is an amateur.”
    They wandered along paths made of white crushed rocks. Ahead of them, an enormous globe of the earth rested atop yet another fountain, water bubbling up from beneath it. All the damned water made it hard for him to hear. He led her away from it, toward the wall separating the gardens from the groves of trees surrounding it.
    â€œBut the threat came when they were outside, not inside the theater.”
    â€œYes,” he said, giving in. “If you really want to go, the hospital is probably safe enough. We can corral the kids and keep the staff away.”
    Her smile lit up her face and made her eyes sparkle. It took his breath away. “Thank you,” she said.
    Since he didn’t trust his voice in that half-­second, he merely