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      “Really, this isn’t necessary.”

      Gabriel glanced over at Lara Kincade, surprised that she had not wanted to call her security team or the police. He and Deidre had finally convinced her to call her head of security.

      “But it is. You have to take these things seriously even if you think they’re pranks.” He studied the little satin-covered doll with the big blue eyes and the blond yarn hair. “A voodoo doll is a signal, prank or no prank.”

      “I get this sort of ‘signal’ all the time,” she said, one arm wrapped around her waist, propping up the other arm she had lifted to her face. She stood just that way, her fingers curled against her chin, while she studied the red-satin-lined box with the odd-looking little figurine lying inside. “When I was young, I saw one of these in a store window down in the Quarter. I begged for it, but my mother refused to let me have it. She told me it wasn’t the kind of doll with which a little girl should play.”

      “It’s not the kind of doll a grown woman should fool around with, either,” Gabriel replied, his English not nearly as proper as hers. But then, he’d practically grown up down in the Quarter. He’d learned street smarts long before he’d studied photography, and he’d learned how to read people long before he’d studied journalism. And something about the woman standing in front of him didn’t wash. She was too calm, too practiced. “You can’t take any chances.”

      “They’re on the way,” Deidre said as she bustled around the room with a cell phone in her hand, her dark eyes wide with concern. “Ma’am, I’m so sorry.”

      “Deidre, you did nothing wrong,” Lara replied, her eyes still on the package. “Stop apologizing and please stop pacing.”

      Deidre skidded on the spot but looked anxious all the same. “I should have waited until we’d had the package checked by one of the guards. I know the protocol.”

      “Deidre, remind me again—you didn’t see who delivered this?” Gabriel said.

      Deidre looked at him, then glanced toward the princess.

      “Go ahead, answer him,” Lara said on a gentle voice. “He’s here to observe and take pictures, but he might be able to help.”

      “I didn’t see anyone, and Herbert has already gone home so we can’t ask him.”

      “Maybe we can call him. He might have taken the package.” Gabriel wanted to reassure the girl. “I’m trying to piece things together before we call the police.”

      “The police?” Lara glared at him and shook her head. “I told you, no police. My head of security—”

      A door down the hallway burst open and a tall bull of a man with tight graying curls muscled his way into the room. “Your Highness, we’ve alerted the team. We’ve got guards stationed all around the property.”

      “—is here right now.” Lara moved away from the offending package but waved her hand toward it. “Thank you, Malcolm. There it is. This is what all the fuss is about. Quite silly, honestly.”

      Malcolm glanced at the voodoo doll, then turned to stare at Gabriel. “What’s your take?”

      Gabriel lifted his eyebrows, surprised that anyone cared about his thoughts on this. He didn’t want to be involved in whatever was going on. He’d already met Malcolm Plankston through a thorough vetting interview that had left him wondering if the man would even let him go on with his assignment. Apparently, he’d been approved. “I take it very seriously,” he said. “I’ve encouraged Princess Lara to call the police.”

      “And I’ve discouraged that notion,” Lara retorted. “It’s another of those odd pranks people tend to play on me. Some of the locals don’t appreciate my interest in rebuilding New Orleans. They tend to forget that I lived here for many years myself.”

      “I agree with Mr. Murdock,” Malcolm said. “The authorities need to hear about this. You’ve stirred up publicity with this art fundraiser and the public knows you’re here. You’re vulnerable.”

      “No,” Lara said, shaking her head. “The local police will laugh in my face and tell me this is just someone’s way of welcoming me home. You know how they scorn my presence here. They think I’m just another celebrity wanting media attention. I won’t bring them in on this and that’s final.”

      Gabriel knew not to argue with a woman who stood tapping her expensive-looking leather pump against the polished wood floor. And he knew not to overstep his position by urging her head of security to go against her wishes.

      Malcolm lifted the doll with a pair of tweezers that somehow appeared out of nowhere. Probably from inside Deidre’s deep pockets. The woman kept pulling things out of each one like a magician pulling rabbits out of a hat.

      “Odd little thing,” Malcolm said, his mustache twitching while he seemed to stop blinking. “I’ll take it out to the shop and analyze it, but I think it’s harmless.” He dropped the doll, then turned to the princess. “I won’t call in the New Orleans police this time, Your Highness. But if anything else out of the ordinary occurs, I will have to do my duty and report it.”

      “Agreed,” Lara replied, clearly relieved that she wouldn’t have to deal with anyone else official tonight. “I promise I’ll keep you apprised. Deidre and I will be diligent on that account, I can assure you.”

      Malcolm cast a furrowed glance toward Deidre. “I assume you will make sure this never happens again.”

      Deidre’s eyes misted. “You have my word on that, sir.”

      “Good,” Malcolm the Intimidator said in his firm, gruff, no-nonsense voice. “Your position here could very well depend on it.”

      Lara walked around the desk and took Deidre’s hand. “It’s all right. You are not going to be dismissed. Go on to bed and get some rest. I’ll be fine.”

      Deidre rushed out of the room, her brown ponytail bouncing, her walnut-colored loafers squeaking.

      Lara had a serene look on her face when she reached out her left hand and placed it on Malcolm’s gray wool suit. “Don’t ever reprimand Deidre in that way again, Mr. Plankston. Do I make myself clear?”

      Malcolm swallowed, gulped and nodded. “I meant no disrespect, ma’am.”

      “Good night, Malcolm.”

      And the man was officially dismissed.

      Which left Gabriel alone with a princess. An ice princess.

      “Impressive,” he said, rocking back and forth on his boots. “I’ll have to remember not to get on your bad side.”

      She gave him an emerald-tinged stare. “Deidre has been with me since the day I married Theo. She’s a dear girl—not much younger than me, really—a bit shy but very efficient. I won’t have Malcolm bullying her since his team seemed to have entirely missed this delivery’s arrival. He knows this wasn’t her fault. I’m the one who insisted on relaxing my security while I’m here. I’m the one who wanted a little more privacy and a lot less formality.”

      Gabriel could understand her need for privacy, and he was pretty sure she should learn to relax a little more. But she was a princess, after all. “You’re known the world over. Privacy is a hard commodity to come by, especially when someone as famous and well loved as you comes to New Orleans. That’s the proverbial fishbowl way of living, Your Highness.”

      “That is a way of living that I have found very wearisome, Mr. Murdock. And please, call me Lara.”

      “As long as you call me Gabriel,” he reminded her with a soft twist of a smile. “And it’s time for me to go, too. Are you sure—”

      “I’m fine. If I know Malcolm, he’ll have a guard at the front door to make sure you get out safely and I stay in safely. I’ll show you out.”

      She

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