Chapter Twelve
Genny lay dazed for a moment. Had she just agreed to marry the President of the United States? She had. Peter had asked and she’d said yes. Okay, she’d nodded her agreement, but that didn’t make it any less true.
Then someone had tackled her.
Frank.
He’d slammed her to the ground.
He rolled off her and now lay on top of Peter. Then Beatrice slammed down onto Genny.
“I wasn’t trying to kill your President. I was only saying I marry him. Would marry him,” she corrected her English.
She struggled to sit up, shoving at Beatrice, who didn’t give way.
“Damn it! Lie still, Ms. Beauchamp!” Beatrice’s voice was clipped, hard.
“That’s supposed to be Genny…” But she didn’t get much energy behind it as she became aware of what else was happening at Temple Preah Vihear.
Gunfire
