Crown Prince, Pregnant Bride! Read online

  “Or when you work for horrible people,” she shot back passionately.

  Shaking his head, he almost smiled. “The strange thing was, the Granvillis started to trust me after that. I moved up in the ranks. I gained power.” He looked at his daughter sternly. “Today, nothing like that could happen to me. And what I want for you is that same sort of immunity from harm.”

  She understood what he wanted for her. She ached with love for him, ached for what he’d gone through, ached for what her own mother had endured. Her heart broke for them all.

  But she still hadn’t been able to contemplate marrying Leonardo. Not then.

  To some degree, she could relate to his obsession to get and hold power. Still, it was his obsession, not hers and she had no interest in making the sort of down payment on a sense of control that marrying Leonardo would entail.

  But this had been the condition she’d been in when she’d first looked up and found Monte standing in her courtyard. She knew she’d never seen him before, and that was unusual. This was a small country and most in the castle had been there for years. You tended to know everyone you ran into, at least by sight. She’d jumped up and looked toward the gate, as though to run.

  But he’d smiled. Something in that smile captivated her every time, and it had all begun that afternoon.

  “Hi,” he’d said. “I’m running from some castle guards. Mind if I hide in here?”

  Even as he spoke, she heard the guards at the gate. And just that quickly, she became a renegade.

  “Hurry, hide in there,” she’d said, pointing to her bedroom. “Behind the bookcase.” She’d turned toward the gate. “I’ll deal with the guards.”

  And so began her life as an accomplice to a criminal—and so also her infatuation with the most wrong man she could have fallen in love with.

  Monte didn’t really appreciate the effort all this had cost her. He’d taken it for granted that she would send the guard away. She’d done the same thing the last time he was here—and that had been more dangerous for them both—because they’d already seen him in the halls at that point. The whole castle was turned upside down for the next two days as they hunted for him. And the entire time, she’d had him hidden in her bedroom.

  No one knew he was here now except Pellea—so far.

  “Was that the DeAngelis tiara you were talking about just now?” he asked her. “I thought I heard Leonardo bring it up.”

  She glared at him. “How long have you been here spying on me? What else did you hear?”

  He raised an eyebrow. “What else didn’t you want me to hear?”

  She threw her hands up.

  “Don’t worry,” he said. “The wedding-dress-design discussion and your talk with Leonardo were about it.”

  They both turned to look at the beautiful gown hanging against a tall, mahogany wardrobe. “Is this the gown you’re wearing to the ball tonight?”

  “Yes.”

  It was stunning. Black velvet swirled against deep green satin. It hung before him looking as though it was already filled with a warm, womanly body. Reaching out, he spanned the waist of it with his hands and imagined dancing with her.

  “The DeAngelis tiara will look spectacular with this,” he told her.

  “Do you remember what it looks like?” she asked in surprise.

  “Not in great detail. But I’ve seen pictures.” He gave her a sideways look of irony. “My mother’s tiara.”

  She shivered, pulling her arms in close about her. “It hasn’t been your mother’s tiara for a long, long time,” she said, wishing she didn’t sound so defensive.

  He nodded slowly. “My mother’s and that of every other queen of Ambria going back at least three centuries,” he added softly, almost to himself.

  She shivered again. “I’m sure you’re right.”

  His smile was humorless. “To the victor go the spoils.”

  “I didn’t make the rules.” Inside, she groaned. Still defensive. But she did feel the guilt of the past. How could she not?

  “And yet, it will take more than twenty-five years to erase the memories that are centuries old. Memories of what my family accomplished here.”

  She bit her lip, then looked at him, looked at the sense of tragedy in his beautiful blue eyes, and felt the tug on her heart.

  “I’m sorry,” she said quickly, reaching for him and putting a hand on his upper arm. “I’m sorry that I have to wear your mother’s tiara. They’ve asked me to do it and I said yes.”

  He covered her hand with his own and turned toward her. She recognized the light in his eyes and knew he wanted to kiss her. Her pulse raced, but she couldn’t let it happen. Quickly, she pulled away.

  He sighed, shaking his head in regret, but his mind was still on something else.

  “Where is it?” he asked, looking around the wardrobe. “Where do you keep it?”

  “The tiara?” She searched his eyes. What was he thinking? “It’s in its case in the museum room, where it always is. Didn’t you hear Sergeant Fromer? The guards will bring it to me just before I leave for the ball. And they will accompany me to the ballroom. The tiara is under guard at all times.”

  He nodded, eyeing her speculatively. “And so shall you be, once you put it on.”

  “I imagine so.”

  He nodded again, looking thoughtful. “I was just reading an article about it the other day,” he said, half musing. “Diamonds, rubies, emeralds, all huge and of superior quality. Not to mention the wonderful craftsmanship of the tiara itself. It’s estimated to be worth more than some small countries are.”

  Suddenly she drew her breath in. She hadn’t known him long, but she was pretty sure she knew a certain side of him all too well.

  “Oh, no you don’t!” she cried, all outrage.

  He looked at her in surprise. “What?”

  She glared at him. “You’re thinking about grabbing it, aren’t you?”

  “The tiara?” He stared at her for a moment and then he threw his head back and laughed. That was actually a fabulous idea. He liked the way she thought.

  “Pellea,” he said, taking her by the shoulders and dropping a kiss on her forehead. “You are perfection itself. You can’t marry Leonardo.”

  She shivered. She couldn’t help it. His touch was like agony and ecstasy, all rolled into one. But she kept her head about her.

  “Who shall I marry then?” she responded quickly. “Are you ready to give me an offer?”

  He stared at her, not responding. How could he say anything? He couldn’t make her an offer. He couldn’t marry her. And anyway, he might be dead by the end of the summer.

  Besides, there was another factor. If he was going to be ruler of Ambria, could he marry the daughter of his family’s biggest betrayer? Not likely.

  “I think kidnapping will work out better,” he told her, and he wasn’t joking.

  She’d known he would say that, or something similar. She knew he was attracted to her. That, he couldn’t hide. But she was a realist and she also knew he hated her father and the current regime with which she was allied. How could it be any other way? He could talk about taking her with him all he wanted, she knew there was no future for her there.

  “I’ll fight you all the way,” she said flatly.

  He smiled down into her fierce eyes. “There’s always the best option, of course.”

  “And what is that?”

  “That you come with me willingly.”

  She snorted. “Right. Before or after I marry Leonardo?”

  He looked pained. “I can’t believe you’re serious.”

  She raised her chin and glared at him. “I am marrying Leonardo in four days. I hope.”

  He brushed the stray hairs back off her cheek and his fingers lingered, caressing her silken skin. “But why?” he asked softly.

  “Because I want to,” she responded stoutly. “I’ve promised I will do it and I mean to keep that promise.”

  Resolutely, she turned away from him
and began searching through a clothes rack, looking for the clothes she meant to change into.

  He came up behind her. “Is it because of your father?”

  She whirled and stared at him. “Leave my father out of this.”

  “Ah-hah. So it is your father.”

  She turned back to searching through the hangers. He watched her for a moment, thinking that he’d never known a woman whose movements were so fluid. Every move she made was almost a part of a dance. And watching her turned him on in ways that were bound to cripple his ability to think clearly. He shook his head. He couldn’t let that happen, not if he wanted to succeed here.

  “Leonardo,” he scoffed. “Please. Why Leonardo?”

  Unconsciously, she cupped her hand over her belly. There was a tiny baby growing inside. He must never know that. He was the last person she could tell—ever. “It’s my father’s fondest wish.”

  “Because he might become ruler of Ambria?”

  “Yes.” How could she deny it? “And because he asked.”

  That set him back a moment. “What if I asked?” he ventured.

  She turned to him, but his eyes showed nothing that could give her any hope. “Ah, but you won’t, will you?”

  He looked away. “Probably not.”

  “There’s your answer.”

  “Where is Georges?” he asked, naming the Granvilli who had killed his parents. “What does he say about all this?”

  She hesitated, choosing her words carefully. “The General seems to be unwell right now. I’m not sure what the specific problem is, but he’s resting in the seaside villa at Grapevine Bay. Leonardo has been taking over more and more of the responsibilities of power himself.” She raised her head and looked him squarely in the eye. “And the work seems to suit him.”

  “Does it? I hope he’s enjoying himself. He won’t have much longer to do that, as I intend to take that job away from him shortly.”

  She threw up her hands, not sure if he meant it or if this was just typical male bombast. “What exactly do you mean to do?” she asked, trying to pin him down.

  He looked at her and smiled, coming closer, touching her hair with one hand.

  “Nothing that you need to worry about.”

  But his thoughts were not nearly as sanguine as he pretended. She really had no conception of how deep his anger lay and how his hatred had eaten away at him for most of his life. Ever since that night when the castle had burned and his parents were murdered by the Granvilli clan. Payment was due. Retribution was pending.

  “Is your father really very ill?” he asked quietly.

  “Yes.” She found the shirt she wanted and pulled it down.

  “And you want to make him happy before he…”

  He swallowed his next words even before she snapped her head around and ordered curtly, “Don’t say it!”

  He bit his tongue. That was a stupid thing to have thought, even if he never actually got the words out. He didn’t mind annoying her about things he didn’t think she should care so much about, but to annoy her about her father was just plain counterproductive.

  “Well, he would like to see you become the future first lady of the land, wouldn’t he?” he amended lamely.

  He tried to think of what he knew about her father. Marallis had been considered an up-and-coming advisor in his own father’s regime. From what he’d been able to glean, the king had recognized his superior abilities and planned to place him in a top job. And then the rebellion had swept over them, and it turned out Vaneck Marallis had signed on with the other side. Was it any wonder he should feel betrayed by the man? He was the enemy. He very likely gave the rebels the inside information they needed to win the day. There was no little corner of his heart that had any intention of working on forgiveness for the man.

  “Okay, it’s getting late,” she said impatiently. “I have to go check on my father.”

  “Because he’s ill?”

  “Because he’s very ill.” She knew she needed to elaborate, but when she tried to speak, her throat choked and she had to pause, waiting for her voice to clear again. “I always go in to see him for a few minutes at this time in the afternoon.” She looked at him. “When I get back, we’ll have to decide what I’m going to do with you.”

  “Will we?” His grin was ample evidence of his opinion on the matter, but she turned away and didn’t bother to challenge him.

  Going to her clothes rack, she pulled out a trim, cream-colored linen suit with slacks and a crisp jacket and slipped behind a privacy screen to change into them. He watched as she emerged, looking quietly efficient and good at whatever job she might be attempting. And ravishingly beautiful at the same time. He’d never known another woman who impressed him as much as this one did. Once again he had a pressing urge to find a way to take her with him.

  It wouldn’t be impossible. She thought he would have to get her past the guards, but she was wrong. He had his own way into the castle and he could easily get her out. But only if she was at least halfway cooperative. It was up to him to convince her to be.

  “I don’t have time to decide what to do with you right now,” she told him, her gaze hooded as she met his eyes. “I have to go check on my father, and it’s getting late. You stay here and hold down the fort. I’ll be back in about half an hour.”

  “I may be here,” he offered casually. “Or not.”

  She hesitated. She didn’t like that answer. “Tell me now, are you going to stay here and wait, or are you going to go looking for Leonardo and get killed?” she demanded of him.

  He laughed shortly. “I think I can handle myself around your so-called fiancé,” he said dismissively.

  Her gaze sharpened and she looked seriously into his eyes. “Watch out for Leonardo. He’ll kill you without batting an eye.”

  “Are you serious? That prancing prig?”

  She shook her head. “Don’t be fooled by his veneer of urbanity. He’s hard as nails. When I suggested you might be killed, I meant it.”

  He searched her eyes for evidence that she really cared. It was there, much as she tried to hide it. He smiled.

  “I’m not too keen on the ‘killed’ part. But as for the rest…”

  She glanced at her watch. Time was fleeting. “I’m running out of time,” she told him. “Go out and wait in the courtyard. I just have one last thing to check.”

  “What’s that?” he asked.

  She looked pained. “None of your business. I do have my privacy to maintain. Now go out and wait.”

  He walked out into the lush courtyard and heard the door click shut behind him. Turning, he could see her through the glass door, walking back into her closet again. Probably changed her mind on what to wear, he thought to himself. And he had a twinge of regret. He didn’t have all that much time here and he hated to think of missing a moment with her.

  Did that mean he’d given up on the kidnapping? No. Not at all. Still, there was more to this trip than just seeing Pellea.

  He scanned the courtyard and breathed in the atmosphere. The castle of his ancestors was all around him. For a few minutes, he thought about his place in history. Would he be able to restore the monarchy? Would he bring his family back to their rightful place, where they should have been all along?

  Of course he would. He didn’t allow doubts. His family belonged here and he would see that it happened. He’d already found two of his brothers, part of the group of “Lost Royals” who had escaped when the castle was burned and had hidden from the wrath of the Granvillis ever since. There were two more brothers and two sisters he hadn’t found yet. But he hoped to. He hoped to bring them all back here to Ambria by the end of the summer.

  He turned and looked through the French doors into her bedroom and saw the huge, soft bed where he’d spent most of the two and a half days when he’d been here before. Memories flooded back. He remembered her and her luscious body and he groaned softly, feeling the surge of desire again.

  Pellea was special. He coul
dn’t remember another woman who had ever stuck in his mind the way she did. She’d embedded herself into his heart, his soul, his imagination, and he didn’t even want to be free of her. And that was a revelation.

  If he survived this summer…

  No, he couldn’t promise anything, not even to himself. After all, her father was the man who had betrayed his family. He couldn’t let himself forget that.

  But where was she? She’d been gone a long time. He turned back and looked at the closed doors to her dressing room, then moved to them and called softly, “Pellea.”

  There was no response.

  “Pellea?”

  Still nothing. He didn’t want to make his call any louder. You never knew who might be at the gate or near enough to it to hear his voice. He tried the knob instead, pushing the door open a bit and calling again, “Pellea?”

  There was no answer. It was quite apparent she wasn’t there.

  CHAPTER THREE

  ALARM BELLS RANG IN Monte’s head and adrenaline flooded his system. Where had she gone? How had she escaped without him seeing her? What was she doing? Had he overestimated his ability to charm, compared to Leonardo’s ability to hand out a power position? Was she a traitor, just like her father?

  All that flashed through his mind, sending him reeling. But that only lasted seconds before he’d dismissed it out of hand. She wouldn’t do that. There had to be a reason.

  The last he’d seen of her she was heading into her large, walk-in closet at the far side of the dressing room. He was there in two strides, and that is when he saw, behind a clothing bar loaded with fluffy gowns, the glimmer of something electronic just beyond a door that had been left slightly ajar.

  A secret room behind the clothing storage. Who knew? He certainly hadn’t known anything about it when he’d been here before.

  Reaching in through the gowns, he pushed the door fully open. And there was Pellea, sitting before a large computer screen that was displaying a number of windows, all showing places in the castle itself. She had a whole command center in here.