Crown Prince, Pregnant Bride! Page 5

The moment the gate closed, Monte turned and tried to take her into his arms again, but she backed away, trying hard to glare at him.

  “Just stop it,” she told him.

  But he was shaking his head. “You can’t marry Leonardo. Not when you can kiss me like that.”

  She stared at him for a moment. How could she have let this happen? He knew, he could tell that she was so in love with him, she could hardly contain it. She could protest all she wanted, he wasn’t going to believe her. If she wasn’t very careful, he would realize the precious secret that she was keeping from him, and if that happened, they would both be in terrible trouble.

  Feeling overwhelmed, she groaned, her head in her hands. “Why are you torturing me like this?

  He put a finger under her chin and forced her head up to meet his gaze. “Maybe a little torture will make you see the light.”

  “There’s no light,” she said sadly, her eyes huge with tragedy. “There’s only darkness.”

  He’d been about to try to kiss her again, but some thing in her tone stopped him and he hesitated. Just a few weeks before, their relationship had been light and exciting, a romp despite the dangers they faced. They had made love, but they had also laughed a lot, and teased and played and generally enjoyed each other. Something had changed since then. Was it doubt? Wariness? Or fear?

  He wasn’t sure, but it bothered him and it held him off long enough for her to pivot out of his control.

  “Gotta go,” she said as she started for the gate, prepared to dash off again.

  He took a step after her. “You’re not planning to tell Leonardo I’m here, are you?” he said. His tone was teasing, as though he was confident she had no such plans.

  She turned and looked at him, tempted to do or say something that would shake that annoying surety he had. But she resisted that temptation. Instead, she told the truth.

  “I’m hoping you won’t be here any longer by the time I get back.”

  He appeared surprised. “Where would I go?”

  She shook her head. It was obviously no use to try, but she had to make her case quickly and clearly. “Please, Monte,” she said earnestly. “Go back the way you came in. Just do this for me. It will make my life a whole lot easier.”

  “Pellea, this is not your problem. I’ll handle it.”

  She half laughed at his confidence. “What do you mean, not my problem? That’s exactly what you are. My problem.”

  “Relax,” he advised. “I’m just going to work on my objective.”

  “Which is?”

  “I told you. I’m here to kidnap you and take you back to the continent with me.”

  “Oh, get off it. You can’t kidnap me. I’m guarded day and night.”

  “Really? Well, where were your wonderful guards when I found my way into your chambers?”

  She didn’t have an answer for that one so she changed the subject. “What’s the point? Why would you kidnap me?”

  He shrugged. “To show them I can.”

  She threw up her hands. “Oh, brother.”

  “I want to show the Granvillis that I’ve been here and taken something precious to them.”

  Her eyes widened. “You think I’m precious?”

  His smile was almost too personal. “I know you are. You’re their most beautiful, desirable woman.”

  That gave her pause. Was she supposed to feel flattered by that? Well, she sort of did, but she wouldn’t admit it.

  “Gee, thanks. You make me feel like a prize horse.” She shook her head. “So to you, this is just part of some war game?”

  The laughter left his gaze. “Oh, no. This is no game. This is deadly serious.”

  There was something chilling in the way he said that. She shivered and tried to pretend she hadn’t.

  “So you grab me. You throw me over your shoulder and carry me back to your cave. You go ‘nah nah nah’ to the powers that be in Ambria.” She shrugged. “What does that gain you?”

  He watched her steadily, making her wonder what he saw. “The purpose is not just to thumb my nose at the Granvillis. The purpose is to cast them into disarray, to make them feel vulnerable and stupid. To throw them off their game. Let them spend their time obsessing on how I could have possibly gotten into the castle, how I could have possibly taken you out without someone seeing. Let them worry. It will make them weaker.”

  “You’re crazy,” she said for lack of anything else to say. And he was crazy if he thought the Granvillis would tumble into ruin because of a kidnapping or two.

  “I’d like to see them tightening their defenses all around,” he went on, “and begin scurrying about, looking for the chinks in their armor. There are people here who watch what they do and report to us. This will give us a better idea of where the weak spots are.”

  She nodded. She understood the theory behind all this. But it didn’t make her any happier with it.

  “So when you get right down to it, it doesn’t have to be me,” she noted. “You could take back something else of importance. The tiara, for instance.”

  Something moved behind his eyes, but he only smiled. “I’d rather take you.”

  “Well, you’re not going to. So why not just get out of my hair and go back where you came from?”

  He shook his head slowly, his blue eyes dark with shadows. “Sorry, Pellea. I’ve got things I must do here.”

  She sighed. She knew exactly what he would be doing while she was gone. He would be in her secret room, checking out what was going on all over the castle. Making his plans. Ruining her life. A wave of despair flooded through her. What had she done? Why hadn’t she been more careful?

  “Arrgghh!” she said, making a small wail of agony.

  But right now she couldn’t think about that. She had to go meet Leonardo or he would show up here.

  “You stay out of my closet room,” she told him with a warning look, knowing he wouldn’t listen to a word she said. “Okay?” She glared at him, not bothering to wait for an answer. “I’ll be back quicker than you think.”

  He laughed, watching her go, enjoying the way her hips swayed in time with her gorgeous hair. And then she was gone and he headed straight for the closet.

  To the casual eye, there was nothing of note to suggest a door to another room. The wall seemed solid enough. He tried to remember what she’d done to close it, but he hadn’t been paying attention at the time. There had to be something—a special knock or a latch or a pressure point. He banged and pushed and tried to slide things, but nothing gave way.

  “If this needs a magic password, I’m out of luck,” he muttered to himself as he made his various attempts.

  He kicked a little side panel, more in frustration than hope, and the door began to creak open. “It’s always the ones you don’t suspect,” he said, laughing.

  The small room inside was unprepossessing, having space only for a computer and a small table. And there on the screen was access to views of practically every public area, all over the castle. A secret room with centralized power no one else knew about. Ingenious.

  Still, someone had built it. Someone had wired it. Someone had to know electronics were constantly running in here. The use of electricity alone would tip off the suspicious. So someone in the workings of the place was on her side.

  But what was “her side” exactly? That was something he still had to find out.

  The sound of Pellea’s entry gong made him jerk. He lifted his head and listened. A woman’s voice seemed to be calling out, and then, a moment later, singing. She’d obviously come into the courtyard.

  Moving silently, he made his way out of the secret room, closing the door firmly. He moved carefully into the dressing area, planning to use the high wardrobe as a shield as he had done earlier, in order to see who it was without being seen. As he came out of the closet and made his way to slip behind the tall piece of furniture, a pretty, pleasantly rounded young woman stepped into the room, catching sight of him just before he found his hiding place.<
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  She gasped. Their gazes met. Her mouth opened. He reached out to stop her, but he was too late.

  She screamed at the top of her lungs.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  MONTE MOVED LIKE LIGHTNING but it felt like slow motion to him. In no time his hand was over the intruder’s mouth and he was pulling her roughly into the room and kicking the French door closed with such a snap, he was afraid for a moment that the glass would crack.

  Pulling her tightly against his chest, he snarled in her ear, “Shut the hell up and do it now.”

  She pulled her breath into her lungs in hysterical gasps, and he yanked her more tightly.

  “Now!” he demanded.

  She closed her eyes and tried very hard. He could feel the effort she put into it, and he began to relax. They waited, counting off the seconds, to see if anyone had heard the scream and was coming to the rescue. Nothing seemed to stir. At last, he decided the time for alarm was over and he began to release her slowly, ready to reassert control if she tried to scream again.

  “Okay,” he whispered close to her ear. “I’m going to let go now. If you make a sound, I’ll have to knock you flat.”

  She nodded, accepting his terms. But she didn’t seem to have any intention of a repeat. As he freed her, she turned, her gaze sweeping over him in wonder.

  “Wait,” she said, eyes like saucers. “I’ve seen you before. You were here a couple of months ago.”

  By now, he’d recognized her as well. She was Pellea’s favorite maid. He hadn’t interacted with her when he’d been here before, but he’d seen her when she’d dropped by to deal with some things Pellea needed done. Pellea had trusted her to keep his presence a secret then. He only hoped that trust was warranted—and could hold for now.

  But signs were good. He liked the sparkle in her eyes. He gave her a lopsided smile. “I’m back.”

  “So I see.” She cocked her head to the side, looking him over, then narrowing her gaze. “And is my mistress happy that you’re here?”

  He shrugged. “Hard to tell. But she didn’t throw anything at me.”

  Her smile was open-hearted. “That’s a good sign.”

  He drew in a deep breath, feeling better about the situation. “What’s your name?” he asked.

  “Pellea calls me Kimmee.”

  “Then I shall do the same.” He didn’t offer his own name and wondered if she knew who he was. He doubted it. Pellea wouldn’t be that reckless, would she?

  “I’ve been here for a couple of hours now,” he told her. “Pellea has seen me. We’ve been chatting, going over old times.”

  Kimmee grinned. “Delightful.”

  He smiled back, but added a warning look. “I’m sure you don’t talk about your mistress’s assignations to others.”

  “Of course not,” she said brightly. “I only wish she had a few.”

  He blinked. “What do you mean?”

  She shrugged, giving him a sly look. “You’re the only one I know of.”

  He laughed. She had said the one thing that would warm his heart and she probably knew it, but it made him happy anyway.

  “You’re not trying to tell me your mistress has no suitors, are you?” he teased skeptically.

  “Oh, no, of course not. But she generally scorns them all.”

  He looked at her levelly. “Even Leonardo?” he asked.

  She hesitated, obviously reluctant to give her candid opinion on that score. He let her off the hook with a shrug.

  “Never mind. I know she’s promised to him at this point.” He cocked an eyebrow. “I just don’t accept it.”

  She nodded. “Good,” she whispered softly, then shook her head as though wishing she hadn’t spoken. Turning away, she reached for the ball gown hanging in front of the wardrobe. “I just came by to check that the gown was properly hung and wrinkle-free,” she said, smoothing the skirt a bit. “Isn’t it gorgeous?”

  “Yes, it is.”

  “I can’t wait to see her dancing in this,” Kimmee added.

  “Neither can I,” he murmured, and at the same time, an idea came to him. He frowned, wondering if he should trust thoughts spurred on by his overwhelming desire for all things Pellea. It was a crazy idea, but the more he mulled it over, the more he realized it could serve more than one purpose and fit into much of what he hoped to accomplish. So why not give it a try?

  He studied the pretty maid for a moment, trying to evaluate just how much he dared depend on her. Her eyes sparkled in a way that made him wonder how a fun-loving girl like this would keep such a secret. He knew he had better be prepared to deal with the fallout, should there be any. After all, he didn’t have much choice. Either he would tie her up and gag her and throw her into a closet, or he would appeal to her better nature.

  “Tell me, Kimmee, do you love your mistress?”

  “Oh, yes.” Kimmee smiled. “She’s my best friend. We’ve been mates since we were five years old.”

  He nodded, frowning thoughtfully. “Then you’ll keep a secret,” he said. “A secret that could get me killed if you reveal it.”

  Her eyes widened and she went very still. “Of course.”

  His own gaze was hard and assessing as he pinned her with it. “You swear on your honor?”

  She shook her head, looking completely earnest. “I swear on my honor. I swear on my life. I swear on my…”

  He held a hand up. “I get the idea, Kimmee. You really mean it. So I’m going to trust you.”

  She waited, wide-eyed.

  He looked into her face, his own deadly serious.

  “I want to go to the ball.”

  “Oh, sir!” She threw her hands up to her mouth. “Oh, my goodness! Where? How?”

  “That’s where you come in. Find me a costume and a nice, secure mask.” He cocked an eyebrow and smiled at her. “Can you do that?”

  “Impossible,” she cried. “Simply impossible.” But a smile was beginning to tease the corners of her mouth. “Well, maybe.” She thought a moment longer, then smiled impishly. “It would be fun, wouldn’t it?”

  He grinned at her.

  “Will you want a sword?” she asked, her enthusiasm growing by leaps and bounds.

  He grimaced. “I think not. It might be too tempting to use it on Leonardo.”

  “I know what you mean,” she said, nodding wisely.

  He got a real kick out of her. She was so ready to join in on his plans and at the same time, she seemed to be thoroughly loyal to the mistress she considered her best friend. It was a helpful combination to work with.

  He lifted his head, looking at the ball gown and thinking of how it would look with his favorite woman filling it out in all the right places. “All I want to do is go to the ball and dance with Pellea.”

  “How romantic,” Kimmee said, sighing. Then her gaze sharpened as she realized what he might be describing. “You mean…?”

  “Yes.” He nodded. “Secretly. I want to surprise Pellea.”

  Kimmee gave a bubbling laugh, obviously delighted with the concept. “I think Leonardo will be even more surprised.”

  He shook his head and gave her a warning look. “That is something I’ll have to guard against.”

  She sighed. “I understand. But it would be fun to see his face.”

  He frowned, wondering if he was letting her get a little too much into this.

  “See what you can do,” he said. “But don’t forget. If Leonardo finds out…” He drew his finger across his throat like a knife and made a cutting sound. “I’ll be dead and Pellea will be in big trouble.”

  She shook her head, eyes wide and sincere. “You can count on me, sir. And as for the costume…” She put her hand over her heart. “I’ll do my best.”

  Pellea returned a half hour later, bristling with determination.

  “I’ve brought you something to eat,” she said, handing him a neatly wrapped, grilled chicken leg and a small loaf of artisan bread. He was sitting at a small table near her fountain, looking for all
the world like a Parisian playboy at a sidewalk café. “And I’ve brought you news.”

  “News, huh? Let me guess.” He put his hand to his forehead as though taking transmissions from space. “Leonardo has decided to join the national ballet and forget all about this crazy marriage stuff. Am I right?”

  She glared at him. “I’m warning you, don’t take the man lightly.”

  “Oh, I don’t. Believe me.” He began to unwrap the chicken leg. He hadn’t eaten for hours and he was more than ready to partake of what she’d brought him. “So what is the news?”

  “Leonardo talked to his father and we’ve decided to move the wedding up.” Her chin rose defiantly. “We’re getting married in two days.”

  He put down the chicken leg, hunger forgotten, and stared at her with eyes that had turned icy silver. “What’s the rush?” he asked with deceptive calm.

  The look in his gaze made her nervous. He seemed utterly peaceful, and yet there was a sense in the air that a keg of dynamite was about to blow.

  She turned away, pacing, thinking about how nice and simple life had been before she’d found him lurking in her garden that day. Her path had been relatively clear at the time. True, she had been fighting her father over his wish that she marry Leonardo. But that was relatively easy to deal with compared to what she had now.

  The irony was that her father would get his wish, and she’d done it to herself. She would marry Leonardo. She would be the first lady of the land and just about impervious to attack. Just as her father so obsessively craved, she would be as safe as she could possibly be.

  But even that wasn’t perfect safety. There were a thousand chinks in her armor and the path ahead was perilous. Everything she did, every decision she made, could have unforeseen repercussions. She had set a course and now the winds would take her to her destination. Was it the best destination for her or was it a mirage? Was she right or was she wrong? If only she knew.

  Looking out into the courtyard, Pellea shivered with a premonition of what might be to come.

  Monte watched her from under lowered brows, munching on a bite of chicken. Much as she was trying to hide it, he could see that she was in a special sort of agony and he couldn’t for the life of him understand why. What was her hurry to marry Leonardo? What made her so anxious to cement those ties?