Читать книгу An Officer and a Princess - Carla Cassidy - Страница 10

“T raitor!” The crowd of people shouted, their fists raised in rage. “You’re a traitor to the crown!” The mood was wicked…dangerous and several of the people picked up rocks and threw them at the man before them.

The man, resplendent in a naval uniform with ribbons and medals decorating his chest, didn’t flinch, didn’t attempt to escape the crowd’s wrath.

Adam watched in horror as his father was stoned. Then suddenly the scene changed and it was Adam being stoned. The rocks of various sizes and shapes thudded painfully into his body as the crowd feverishly chanted.

“Traitor!”

“Traitor!”

There was no hazy transition from sleep to awareness. One minute he was dreaming and the next moment he was wide awake, the horrid nightmare merely a bitter aftertaste in his mouth.

He was instantly aware of aching bones and sore muscles, but knew the soreness wasn’t from a nightmare stoning, but rather from attempting to sleep in the lumpy chair next to the bed.

He pulled himself upright from his slumped position and checked the luminous dial of his wristwatch. Almost two. Despite the lateness of the hour, light illuminated the spaces around the curtains at the window. Adam knew the light came from the bright sign that proclaimed the name of this establishment.

He focused his gaze on the bed, where Isabel slept soundly. She was on her back and the sheet had fallen down around her waist, giving him a tantalizing view of her rounded breasts covered with the thin lilac silk of her nightgown.

He knew he shouldn’t look, but he couldn’t help but drink in the lovely sight of her. In sleep her features took on a soft vulnerability rarely seen when she was awake. Her long lashes cast shadows beneath her eyes and her mouth was opened slightly, as if awaiting a lover’s kiss. Her skin looked creamy and touchable.

Frowning, he jerked his gaze away from her.

It had been awkward when they’d prepared to go to bed. Adam hadn’t contemplated all that this subterfuge would entail. He’d certainly not considered the fact that it might include sleeping with Isabel.

He’d changed from his clothing into a pair of athletic shorts in the bathroom while she’d gotten into her nightgown in the bedroom. Then, once she’d gotten into bed, Adam had left the bathroom and insisted he would spend the night on the chair.

Pulling himself up, he silently walked the length of the room in an effort to unkink muscles, and tried to keep his gaze away from the slumbering princess. But it was impossible.

It was as if in sleep she called to him and he found himself at the edge of the bed, gazing at her more openly, more intently than he ever did when she was awake.

From the first moment he’d laid eyes on her, he’d found her beautiful, with an earthy edge to her features that whispered of a latent sexuality.

He frowned once again, pulled his gaze away from her and instead stepped over to the window. Pulling the curtain aside, he peered outside and to the deserted street below. But his thoughts were distant.

Thinking of the nightmare he’d suffered, his stomach clenched tight and he felt the suffocating press of emotion inside his chest. For a little over a year he’d lived in the shadow of the suspicions about his father.

He knew his father wasn’t a traitor, would never sell out to another country, but knowing and proving were two different things. He’d been trying to find out exactly what had happened to Admiral Jonathon Sinclair when Isabel had called him home because of the kidnapping of King Michael.

And so, his personal mission had been put on hold for a greater mission…to find Isabel’s kidnapped father. He let the curtain fall closed once again, then turned as he heard Isabel stir.

She turned her head and opened her eyes, appearing drowsy and still half-asleep. “Adam?”

“I’m right here,” he replied softly.

“What are you doing?”

“Just prowling a bit. I couldn’t sleep.”

She stretched languidly. “That’s because you’re trying to sleep in that awful chair. Come to bed, Adam. Nothing terrible will happen if we share the bed.” Almost before the words were out of her mouth, her eyes had drifted closed and she was once again asleep.

Adam contemplated her words. Nothing terrible will happen if we share the bed. He didn’t want to think about getting back on that chair, with its lumpy back and ill-stuffed seat.

But, the vision of Isabel in that gold short top and that miniscule skirt haunted him. As they’d discussed the various people on Meagan Moore’s list, Isabel’s full, ruby lips had taunted him, and her floral-and-spice scent had made concentration difficult.

He was accustomed to seeing her in a business setting, with both of them in uniform, not in a casual setting with her wearing next to nothing.

With a tired sigh, he threw himself back into the torturous chair. She might not think anything terrible would happen if they shared the bed, but he wasn’t so sure. In his state of heightened awareness where she was concerned, he wasn’t sure he could trust himself.

When he awakened again, dawn was trying to seep in around the edges of the curtain. With a groan, Adam struggled to his feet, his back an aching mass of muscle from the awkward position of his sleep.

Isabel was still asleep. She’d claimed the very center of the bed and was sprawled on her stomach, her face buried in one of the pillows.

Although it was early, Adam knew he couldn’t sleep anymore. He rarely required more than three or four hours anyway. Quietly, he pulled clean clothes from his duffel bag, then went into the bathroom.

A moment later, standing beneath a surprisingly hot, strong spray of water in the shower, Adam thought about the task ahead of him and Isabel.

He knew the investigation into the king’s kidnapping had begun with the focus on the immediate family members and their friends. Nobody had been spared scrutiny, including King Michael’s brother, Edward, who had now assumed the king’s responsibilities, and his two sons, Luke and Blake. Since Michael’s kidnapping, Blake had married Rowena Wilde, Isabel’s lady-in-waiting.

No red flags had gone up with anyone who had been investigated so far, leaving everyone to speculate on just who had been giving Shane Moore his orders. Who had been responsible for the king’s kidnapping? And why?

In a last-ditch effort to force the hand of the conspirators, a rumor had been circulated that Prince Nicholas had been found dead, but so far that rumor had prompted no move from the guilty.

Today was Shane Moore’s funeral and Adam wondered how many of Shane’s cohorts would show up to pay their respects. Although Isabel hadn’t mentioned it yet, he had a feeling he and “Bella Wilcox” would be among the bereaved.

He sighed and shut off the shower. He hoped he and Isabel weren’t in over their heads. He knew if anything happened to Isabel while she was with him, it would be another nail in the coffin of his family name.

Dressing, he shoved these thoughts out of his head. He couldn’t focus on his family problem now. He had to stay focused on pretending to be Adam Wilcox, not Lieutenant Commander Adam Sinclair.

He stepped out of the bathroom, surprised to see Isabel awake and propped up on the pillows. The sheet demurely covered her, only a whisper of lilac silk visible at her shoulders.

“I hope you saved me some hot water,” she said, a little edge of crankiness in her voice.

“And good morning to you, too,” Adam said dryly.

She frowned and raked a hand through her hair. “I don’t suppose this place has room service.”

“Ha, fat chance,” Adam retorted. He sat on the chair to put on his shoes. “But, if you’ll get dressed, we should be able to find a place to have breakfast someplace nearby.”

“Coffee…that’s what I need,” she said as she shoved the covers back and stood.

Adam averted his gaze, but not before he caught a glimpse of her with the silky nightgown clinging to every curve. His internal temperature skyrocketed, and he was grateful when she disappeared into the bathroom.

He scrubbed a hand down his face and leaned back in the chair. This was going to be harder than he’d thought. He hadn’t slept well and was already dreading another night on the damnable chair.

However, the thought of lying next to Isabel on the too-soft mattress, the thought of feeling her body heat washing over him, filled him with an almost unbearable tension.

He’d fought his feelings for Isabel for years. First, when she’d been a recruit under his command. Even then, there had been awareness between the two of them, a heady tension that had filled him both with excitement and dread.

Any relationship between an officer and a recruit was strictly forbidden, and neither of them had been willing to jeopardize their careers for a tempestuous foray into romance, no matter how appealing that romance might have been.

But, you aren’t her commanding officer anymore, a small voice whispered inside his head. True, he wasn’t. But, she was a princess, and he was a man with a dishonorable stain on his family name.

Half the people in the country of Edenbourg believed his father was a traitor. Adam certainly wasn’t a potential suitor for Princess Isabel.

Besides, if the newspapers were correct, she was already bound to the pretty-boy Sebastian Lansbury and King Michael had given his approval to the match right before his kidnapping.

It was best for Adam to keep his mind on two goals…the first was to find the king, and the second was to clear his father’s name. Isabel was just as taboo for him now as when she’d been his recruit and he’d been her commanding officer. And he would do well to remember that over the next couple of weeks.

Isabel polished off the last of her second buttered croissant, feeling much better than she had when she’d first awakened.

She and Adam sat in a small café just down the street from the King’s Men Tavern. It was early enough in the morning that only a few patrons drifted in as Adam and Isabel ate breakfast.

Isabel was once again clad in “Bella” clothes, although she’d chosen the least risqué of what she’d packed in deference to Adam’s wishes.

Bright purple slacks hugged her tightly, and a blouse the same hue clashed cheerfully with her hair color. Spike heels and dangly earrings completed her fashion statement for the day.

Adam was a lot less creative in his dress code. He was clad in another pair of black jeans and a clean gray T-shirt that did magnificent things to his gray eyes.