The Princess Predicament Read Online Free PDF

lies helping Gabriella, protecting her. But Charlotte had known there would be times like this when she wouldn’t be there, so she had taught Gabby how to protect herself.
    The man wasn’t much taller than she was. But he was heavier—much heavier even with the extra pounds she was carrying in her belly. Most of his extra weight was muscle. He had no neck but had a broad back and shoulders. And at the small of his back, there was a big bulge. He had definitely come in on a private plane and from some airport with about the same level of security as this one. None.
    Choose the most effective mode of protection .
    Charlotte had been trained to fight and shoot and had years of experience doing both. She had taught Gabby some simple but effective moves. But Gabriella’s experience using those methods had been in simulated fights with Charlotte, whom she hadn’t wanted to hurt. Then.
    A sob caught in her lungs. She didn’t want to hurt her now, either. Or avoid her like she’d initially thought. She wanted to see Charlotte and talk to her, give her a chance to explain her actions and her reason for keeping so many secrets. But Gabriella couldn’t do that if she didn’t get the chance—if she wound up held hostage or worse.
    And by effective, I mean violent...
    Charlotte Green had lived a violent life, and she possessed the scars to prove it. Both physical and emotional.
    Gabby only had the emotional scars until now.
    She wouldn’t be able to use her simulated fight moves to fend off this muscular man—probably not even if she wasn’t six months pregnant. But because she was six months pregnant, she couldn’t risk the baby getting hurt.
    So instead she reached for the gun and pulled it from beneath the man’s sweat-dampened shirt. The weapon was heavier than she remembered. She hadn’t held one in the past six months. But before that she’d held one several times. With both hands, using one to hold and balance the gun while she focused on flicking off the safety and pulling the trigger with the other.
    But the man held one of her hands. When he felt her grab the gun, he jerked her around and reached for the gun. So she fumbled with it quickly, sliding the safety and squeezing the trigger.
    Because she hadn’t wanted to hit anyone else in the crowded airport, she’d aimed the barrel up and fired the bullet into the metal ceiling. Birds, living in the rafters, flew into a frenzy. And so did the people as the bullet ricocheted back into the cement. She breathed a sigh of relief that it struck no one. But the cement chipped, kicking up pieces of it with dust.
    The man jumped, as if he’d felt the whiz of the bullet near his foot. And he lurched back. When he did, he released her arm. Now she had two hands, which she used to steady the gun and aim the barrel—this time at the man’s chest.
    People screamed and ran toward the exits. They thought she was dangerous. The man didn’t seem to share their sentiment because he stepped forward again, advancing on her.
    “I will shoot!” she warned him.
    He chuckled. Then, his voice full of condescension, said, “You are a princess. What do you know of shooting guns?”
    “More than enough to kill you...” Like the simulated fights, she hadn’t shot a weapon with the intent of hurting anyone...except for all the targets she had killed. She was good at head shots. Even better at the heart-kill shot.
    Of course those targets hadn’t been moving. And the man was—advancing on her with no regard for the weapon. He was mad, too, his eyes dark with rage. If he got his hands on her again, he wasn’t just going to kidnap her. He was going to hurt her. And hurting her would hurt her unborn child.
    So when he lunged toward her, she fired again.
    * * *
    A NOTHER SHOT RANG out. But it didn’t echo off metal as the earlier shot had. It was muffled—as if it had struck something. Or someone...
    Gabriella...
    Whit held back the shout that burned his lungs. Yelling her name might