Читать книгу Saved by the Monarch - Dana Marton - Страница 7

He didn’t have time for this.

“Aunt Viola?” Miklos drew up one eyebrow as he glanced toward the chancellor. The future princess’s companion and social secretary seemed to have been amiss in her duties. To say the least.

“Lady Viola Arynak. A distant relation to Lady Marezzi,” the chancellor supplied, looking thoroughly off balance.

“Arynak?” Foreboding filled the prince.

“Dr. Arynak’s cousin.”

Which might have explained a lot. Was she also averse to delivering bad news? Had she left the princess’s engagement out of her education altogether? Although he couldn’t comprehend why anyone would think of the prospect of being married to him as bad news.

“Engagement?” she asked again, color returning to her face. She had the fine features of Valtrian aristocracy and lively eyes that made it near impossible to look away from her.

“An agreement was reached between our parents at the time of your birth, then reinforced at the time of your leaving Valtria.” When her father was appointed Valtrian ambassador to the United States.

She really had an attractive mouth. Even when it was hanging open.

“I was two when my family moved to America. You—you pedophile!” Outrage shook her voice.

“I was not quite thirteen at the time and wasn’t given much say in the matter,” he said mildly. “You came up to my knee and hugged it. The families took it as an agreement.” She’d been a charming toddler, large blue eyes that had turned lavender over the past decades and curly red hair that had grown into auburn waves.

She flashed him a look of contempt.

Far from the look of adoration she’d regarded him with back then. He hadn’t known what to do with her, felt lucky that protocol required nothing but a short introduction. He’d been relieved that she was so young, that the alliance he was expected to make with her wouldn’t have to happen for endless years yet. Two decades had seemed an eternity to his thirteen-year-old self.

But that particular eternity had just come to an end. And his fond fantasies of an obedient wife who toed the line and understood the responsibilities of the monarchy were rapidly coming to an end with it.

The fire in her eyes was something to behold. “This is the twenty-first century. You can’t be serious,” she admonished him.

He didn’t even answer that. Duty was everything to him. That she would question hers the moment she was required the first small thing annoyed him to no end and didn’t fill him with optimism regarding his future wife’s character.

He would marry her anyway. He was prepared to make that sacrifice. She could be key to uniting the country again. Her father had been an extremely popular lord and political figure, a son of the Italian minority living in Valtria. Her mother had been a descendant of the Austrian-related branch of Valtrian nobility. Her marriage to him would be far more than just a happy occasion for all the people to come together at last and celebrate. Their joining would be symbolic, could even start the country on the path of healing ethnic wounds if it were played in exactly the right way.

“I’m an American citizen. I got that when my stepmother adopted me. You can’t make me do anything I don’t want to do.” She threw him a so-there look that was haughty enough for a princess while also incredibly hot.

“Valtrian-American,” he corrected and wondered if that, too, might not have some use yet. She’d spent most of her life outside the country. She had no alliances yet, no preferences, no past here to dredge up. She could be seen as a fresh breath of air to the royal family, impartial, sympathetic to all the people of the kingdom. Something to discuss with the chancellor when they had a sane minute.

His cell phone rang. Under normal circumstances, he wouldn’t have picked it up in the lady’s presence, reserving his full attention for her. But at the moment, he was glad for any diversion from the disaster their meeting was turning into. Seeing the chief of security’s number on the display made his decision for him.

“What happened?”

“Two bodies were found in the catacombs. Palace guards.” The man’s voice was grave and apologetic at the same time.

“Procedure followed?”

“Yes, Your Highness. Emergency procedures for the possible infiltration of the palace are being put in place. The royal family will leave for a weekend hunting holiday to Maltmore within the hour.”

He loved Maltmore, a fine hunting castle, had fond childhood memories of the place and Monsieur Maneaux, the Frenchman who had taught the young princes sword fighting there. Under the current situation, to remove the royal family to the castle from the royal palace for a few days was the best course of action.

Which was going to be questioned by the media, since it had been unscheduled, but the chancellor would come up with some innocent reason. Maybe even involving the arrival of Lady Judit.

“Very well.” His ancestors had built Maltmore in the foothills of the Alps, a location as majestic as it was well defensible.

But also a hundred miles from the capital. Which meant he would have a hard time investigating the goings-on at the royal palace from there. “I shall be staying in residence.” The rest of the “Brotherhood” could just investigate from the safety of the castle walls. Actually, that suited him pretty well.

“Your Highness, I must advise—”

“I shall be staying in residence with the Lady Judit.” The perfect excuse for him to lag behind his family.

The prince and the future princess are getting to know each other. Courting.

The press would turn it into something mushily romantic, and nobody would guess the dire situation at the palace, news of which could not come out under any circumstances. With all the upheaval in the country, the supposed Freedom Council that worked to bring down the monarchy would capitalize on information like that, use it as proof that the people were fed up with the royals. The council would gain more power, and their power was even now almost too much to handle.

His mother was ill—she had to leave. His brothers, if they stayed, wouldn’t be able to help themselves, but would try to investigate and look for any excuse to perform some heroic deed. He could never hope to keep an eye on all of them. They were better off at Maltmore. But he should be able to keep a close eye on Judit. How hard could it be to keep track of one young woman? And the monarchy’s enemies didn’t know her yet anyway. She wasn’t a target.

“We’ll talk when I get there.” He hung up the phone, then addressed Lady Judit. “I’m sorry, but your official schedule will have to be changed.”

Under the circumstances, maybe it was best if she weren’t out there, prancing around the countryside. He’d see to it that she would be kept busy at the royal palace, while guarded heavily. They might even spend more time together than originally planned. He found that he didn’t altogether mind that prospect.

“I don’t have an official schedule.” She glared at him.

The chancellor drew up his shoulders and shook his head, nonplussed. He seemed completely out of sorts and taking this mix-up badly. He probably felt responsible.

“If we were engaged all this time like you say, how come you never contacted me? If I hadn’t decided to come here, would you have just forgotten about it and let it all go?” Judit asked.

“I’ve been busy. I’ve been patient, trying to give you the time you needed.” And relieved that she’d stayed away, to be truthful. He had a full life, a career in the army, a pretty busy schedule. It’d always seemed that they would have plenty of time yet. Which led the chancellor to his ultimatum. Might as well tell her some of that.

“If I hadn’t made arrangements before my fortieth birthday—” he felt a moment of embarrassment “—you would have received an official contact from the royal family that requested your presence here. Chancellor Hansen would have organized the confirmation of our engagement.”

“When is your fortieth birthday?” she inquired.

“At the end of summer.”

“Procrastinate much?” She actually looked amused for a second.

His turn to glare at her.

“I think you want this as little as I do,” she observed.

“I want to do my duty.” That was all he ever wanted. Whatever it took to help the country and the monarchy. When one was a prince, personal feelings did not figure into the equation.

“I don’t want anyone to marry me out of duty,” she snapped, as if offended. But then she added on a softer voice, that suited her much better, “Can you understand that?”

“Lady Arynak mentioned none of this to you?” Miklos asked.

NOT REALLY. JUDI SAT ramrod straight on the leather seat, not allowing her shoulders to slump. Don’t let them see you scared.

The limousine felt smaller than a Mini Cooper. The prince had what could be called an imposing presence, his intense energy filling the space and then some. Grainy pictures in tabloids were one thing. Sitting face-to-face with all that charisma was vastly different, heaven help her.

She wondered for a second if anyone had ever naysayed him. That probably didn’t happen too often. A man like him wouldn’t be used to resistance from women.

“My aunt is a sweet old lady.” She sounded defensive even to her own ears, but couldn’t help it. She loved Aunt Viola. Who was sweet. Too sweet, even. She had a tendency to say whatever anyone wanted to hear. But, hello, that was exactly why she was so very likable and had a gazillion friends.

“She did bring up from time to time that I should visit Valtria.” But Judi had always put it off, focusing on her studies at first, then on her career. And her aunt had mentioned marriage, urged her more and more often lately to consider that it might be time to start thinking along those lines, but Judi had been reluctant.

Not that she was commitment-phobic, although she’d been accused of just that by more than one ex-boyfriend. But it did seem that everyone she’d ever truly loved always ended up dying. Her mother when Judi had been three, her father when she’d been five, her stepmother when she’d been ten.

Maybe she was scared to fully fall in love and commit to a man. And her aunt hadn’t pushed or played matchmakers like older family members or some of her friends. She just wasn’t the pushy kind, which Judi very much appreciated. Having someone like Aunt Viola by her side was wonderful when life was filled with one harsh reality after another.

Like the fact that her parents had sold her out to some prince when she’d been a toddler!

He seemed annoyed but held it in check and remained studiously polite, a man who fully knew the meaning of aristocratic restraint. Which she appreciated. He was overwhelming enough as it was.

“Look, we’re both adults. We should be able to figure something out.” There had to be something she could say to make him see how absolutely crazy this all was.

He watched her as if trying to see inside her. “The country needs our alliance,” he stated simply.

His very presence demanded that she curtsy and say Yes, Your Highness. But in addition to her Valtrian heritage, she also had her indomitable American stepmother’s spirit in her. She called on that.

“That’s not up for negotiation.” She did her best to remain calm and match his cool demeanor.

Her father had been a high-profile political figure, then her stepmother after him. They’d both been dragged through the mud. If there was one thing she’d known for sure at an early age, it was that she would never become a public figure when she grew up.

“If I can make the sacrifice, why is it that you cannot?” His masculine, sensuous lips flattened. “A true daughter of Lord Marezzi would never refuse her duty.”

I would and I will—just watch me, Buster, she wanted to say but had a feeling that she would get better results by remaining civil and rational. She needed time. Delay. “I believe we really need to talk about this. I’m going to need time here. And a lot of questions need to be answered.”

He watched her darkly for a long moment. “Agreed.”

So he was willing to negotiate. It saved her from having to jump from a moving car and run for the hills. She felt a small sense of relief, the first since she’d gotten off the plane.

“You will consider the situation?” His face remained impassive, but his eyes betrayed that he wasn’t too happy with her.

Not that she was all that thrilled with him, either. “Yes.” The situation she would consider. Marriage to him, she would not.

Even if he wasn’t that bad to look at: raven-wing black hair and dark slate eyes, a straight, aristocratic nose and a powerfully built soldier’s body. Which, really, she should have been too angry to notice. It annoyed her to no end that she had. So he was handsome. So who cared?

He was archaic.

An arranged marriage. In this day and age? Who was he kidding?

Maybe he was crazy. Not a raving lunatic, but slightly off. Madness ran in the royal bloodlines of several European countries; she remembered that from history class. Just her luck. A whole, perfectly fine country, and the first person she ran into was their off-his-rocker prince.

They slowed for a sharp turn. She opened her mouth to talk some reason into the two men, but what happened next froze her. She watched the scene unfold, her body immobile from the terror she felt.

Two cars plowed through traffic and pulled to a screeching halt next to their motorcade. Two men got out. One pointed a grenade launcher at the limo behind them that was supposed to carry her entourage but was empty instead, save for the driver. The guy blew it to pieces.

Just blew it up without warning.

Fire shot to the sky.

Car parts rained to the pavement.

She might have screamed. She couldn’t hear her own voice, deafened by the explosion.

The guy pointed the grenade launcher at their car next.

If she’d had command of her limbs, she would have been hiding under the seats by now.

The prince opened the door and got out with murder on his face to confront the armed men. He stood tall and straight, focused on the attackers. “This is not necessary. I will come of my own will and listen to your demands.” His voice was clipped, betraying the restraint it took for him to just stand there.

He let himself be disarmed, but with enough tension radiating from him that she thought his control might break at any second and he would attack. She felt disconnected from the whole scene as if she were watching it on a movie screen. Her mind was numb with shock.

“No further violence is necessary.” His voice was tempered steel.

And for a moment, she wasn’t sure whether he was trying to convince the attackers or himself.

“I’ll go with you. We leave them here,” he stated.

“Everyone’s coming.” One guy kept his gun trained on the prince while another reached in and yanked Judi from the safety of the limo.

Faced with a grenade launcher, she didn’t have it in her to resist. She went like a rag doll.

The chancellor scampered to the far end of the expansive seat and wedged himself in. They would have needed a crane to move the man. The attacker pointed the grenade launcher at him.

She caught the prince shift on his feet and get ready to make his move, so she prepared to duck, knowing all hell would break loose in a second. But then, unexpectedly, the ceremonial army guard opened fire. Bullets pinged off the pavement and the cars.

The kidnappers gave up on the chancellor, and Judi was unceremoniously shoved into the back of a van, along with His Highness. Then the van took off, the attackers returning fire, swerving all over the road so badly that she banged against the van’s side.

She grabbed on to the one thing available for leverage—the prince. She could feel the flexing of an impressive amount of muscle under his military jacket, but there was no time to appreciate that now. The van swerved as bullets exploded all around it.

“Oh God, oh God, oh God.”

She’d been wrong, she thought. The prince wasn’t the only nut in the place. The whole country was insane.

She so should not have come here. She yelped as the gunfire intensified. She could see little in the dim van, the prince’s wide chest pretty much filling her field of vision. She prayed that the bullets wouldn’t break through the back door and hit them. She hung on even tighter as he put an arm around her and braced them with his feet to stop from bouncing. He held them both safe by sheer strength and will.

She was not impressed. All she could think of was that she should have gone with her first idea and celebrated her twenty-ninth birthday in Puerto Vallarta instead.

HIS HANDS WERE TIED behind his back and he was blindfolded, but his feet were free, so Miklos walked his prison to get a sense of it. When he bumped into something, he turned around to feel it. A chair. Which he catalogued as a possible makeshift weapon before he moved on.

“Where are we? It’s freezing,” Lady Judit asked from somewhere nearby.

“Up in the mountains.” He had no idea beyond that. The van had had no windows, and the men had blindfolded them before taking them out of the vehicle and into a building. He figured about two or three hours had passed since their kidnapping.

“The country’s security forces are out in full force looking for us. And probably most of the army. General Rossi would see to that,” he said to reassure her. “Lady Judit—”

“For heaven’s sake, can you at least call me Judi?” she snapped.

She really did have a difficult nature. “Judi. Please do not fear. I’m going to protect you.” A prince remained valiant under all circumstances. A lesson drummed into the six Kerkay brothers from early childhood by the chancellor.

She snorted.

Which drew him up short. He didn’t think a true princess would snort. Yet he couldn’t deny that he kind of liked her irreverent, spirited nature. Heaven help him. He would have been able to appreciate—he corrected himself—an irreverent and spirited nature in about any other woman, but not his bride, who would be a princess of the kingdom.

He moved forward and bumped into a table, thought about Chancellor Hansen. Worry filled him for the old man. There’d been a gunfight after he and Judi had been thrust into the van. He wondered how the chancellor had fared.

“Why did they bring us here?” she was asking.

He wasn’t sure he should tell her. But the fact was, she was here now, her life in jeopardy because of him. She deserved to know. He finally reached a wall and moved alongside it, turned his back to feel for a window with his tied hands.

“I was informed this morning that there’s an assassination plot against my brother, the crown prince.” As if Arpad hadn’t had a rough-enough month already. His chopper had nearly gone down two weeks before, due to malfunction. He’d been on his way to a ceremonial troop inspection. He was lucky he was still alive.

In hindsight, fresh suspicion arose that the accident could have been planned. But no, a special investigative team had gone over every last screw of the chopper after the incident. Miklos had read their report. Thoroughly.

“I’m in the army. Of the six princes, I’m the most involved with security. Could be whoever is behind the plot wants me out of the way so it’d be easier for him to get to Arpad.”

A long silence followed his response. Then, “Why am I here?”

“You were in the wrong place at the wrong time,” he said with regret.

“Funny, but I’ve had that feeling ever since the plane landed,” she said in a droll tone.

The corner of his mouth twitched up. Her sense of humor was refreshing. And she stayed relatively composed under duress. She hadn’t become hysterical at any point during the kidnapping—another trait that might come in handy for a future princess. Which she refused to consider, and for a split second he wondered if he could afford to let that whole issue drop. He hadn’t really wanted a bride. He wanted a reluctant bride even less.

And she was nothing like the duty-bound daughters of the Valtrian aristocracy. Whoever he married wouldn’t simply be his wife—she would be a princess of the country. She would have endless duties and responsibilities. And she would be expected to fulfill every last one of them. She would be expected to make sacrifices for the people.

If he were the only other person involved, he would have been willing to respect her explicitly worded wishes in the matter. But their union went beyond him; it involved the whole country. And despite some misgivings on his part, he couldn’t give up his hopes for their grand peacemaking alliance. The country needed that.

“I’m truly sorry that your introduction to Valtria is like this. It’s a wonderful country. I wish your arrival could have been different.”

“You and me both,” she groused, then asked, “Why do the people want the crown prince dead?”

“Not the people. Some people. Three businessmen in particular.” The three men who led the so-called Freedom Council. “We have three major ethnic groups in the country: Italian, Hungarian and Austrian. There are some businessmen who would like to destroy the monarchy, divide the country along those ethnic lines and make their own republics.” How little she knew about the country was truly disappointing.

“Which would be led by these powerful men?”

At least she was catching on quickly. “Right. Each would have a small republic. They could then rewrite the laws to suit their best interests, anything.”

“Why?”

“More power. More money. When Arpad takes over, he’s changing the country to a constitutional monarchy. Already, preparations are being made. The next step after that is joining the European Union. That will change everything. Not all EU regulations will be favorable for all current Valtrian business practices.

“The bottom line is, for the Freedom Council the time is now or never. It’s easier to take out the royal family now and gain control of the country than try to take out a whole parliament once constitutional monarchy gets here.”

“Don’t the people understand that they’re being manipulated?”

“There’s a lot of propaganda out there right now to create tension along ethnic lines. That’s all people see.” He felt such regret over that, and wondered if, not having grown up in Valtria, Judi could understand.

“For as long as I can remember, we were simply Valtrian,” he explained. “Now everyone is seeing themselves as Italian or Hungarian or Austrian, and centuryold grievances are being dredged up.”

“The whole divide-and-conquer thing. And political instability brings economic instability, of course,” she added.

So she did get it. He went on, encouraged. “The economy is suffering already. And the Freedom Council is doing its best to convince the people that it’s because the upkeep of monarchy is too expensive.”

“You’ve said Freedom Council more than once. What is it?”

“That’s what the rebel leaders are calling themselves. Pretty ironic, actually. Under their mercenary government, the people would be anything but free.”

She remained silent for minutes. “I wish I knew more about Valtria.”

“How much were you told of our history?”

“My father used to talk to me about it. But he died and—I was too young to remember.”

“And your aunt Viola?”

“For the most part, she just tried to convince me to move back here. Gently,” she added. “She doesn’t like to say things she knows I don’t want to hear.”

He rolled his eyes beneath the blindfold.

Then he turned his head toward the door when he heard it open.

Something clanged to the floor.

The door closed again.

“What do you think that was?” she asked.

“Food.” He hoped.

And got a sudden idea just as she asked, “What are we going to do?”

“Escape,” he answered. “But we’ll have to get the blindfolds off first.” He moved toward her. “Keep talking so I can figure out where exactly you are. Just say something. Anything.”

“For my thirtieth birthday I decided to visit the country of my ancestors and discover my heritage. At the airport I was kidnapped by a deranged prince—”

“Greeted by an eager groom,” he corrected as his head bumped into hers.

“Then I was kidnapped by other deranged men,” she finished.

“What, that wasn’t in the brochure?” He made an attempt to lighten the mood between them. “People pay extra for extreme vacations like that.”

Then his lips were on her cheeks, her skin silky soft. And they both fell silent.

He ignored the heat that flashed through him and zipped straight to his groin. He moved his mouth up to the blindfold, grabbed the material with his teeth, breathing in her exotic flower scent. She held herself ramrod straight.

“Relax. I’m not trying to seduce you.” And just for the hell of it, he added, “Yet.”

But he could envision it in crystal-clear detail all of a sudden. Her tangled up in his sheets. Naked. Under him.

“I don’t want you to confuse me with those women who throw themselves at the feet of handsome princes.”

Disappointingly, her voice held no trace of passion. Instead, he got the distinct impression that she was mocking him.

“You’re in no danger of that.” He pulled the blindfold off all the way at last. “Your turn,” he said, waiting impatiently to see again.

A moment passed before he could feel her velvety lips on his left cheek, an inch or two above his mouth, next to the blindfold. Her firm breasts pressed against his shoulder as she leaned into him. She moved her mouth. The blindfold moved next, a scant centimeter only before it slipped from her teeth. She had to fit her lips to his skin again.

He didn’t mind the delay.

Then the blindfold was off at last, around his neck. She looked up, and they were nose to nose, her lavender eyes staring into his, her soft breath fanning his face.

“At least you think me handsome. That’s a start, I suppose.” Utterly ridiculous how pleased those words she’d let slip made him feel. A foothold, that was what they were. Something he could stand on while he fought to gain more ground. Courting a woman couldn’t have been that much different from conducting a military campaign.

She blushed a brilliant red, right to the tip of her ears. The response was so charming, he couldn’t help but smile at her. Maybe he was gaining ground already.

But she was gathering herself fast, her eyes narrowing, her mouth opening, no doubt with a snappy comeback. He couldn’t let her spoil the moment. He couldn’t give up the ground he’d gained; he wouldn’t give up an inch. That was not the path to victory.

So he leaned forward and kissed her.

Her lips were even softer than her cheeks, although she immediately pressed them together and pulled back. He followed and dragged his mouth across hers.

Her instant rejection of him on her arrival had injured his masculine pride, whether or not he was ready to admit that, and some part of him pushed to prove something to her, although he couldn’t have exactly said what that was.

All he knew was that he wanted her to look at him with something other than the ever-present disdain in those mesmerizing lavender eyes. Their arranged union was important. It had a purpose. They had roles to fulfill. He wanted her to consider that.

He was still intent on conquering when his eyes closed on their own. And in the next instant he was seduced by her softness and her scent. She was unlike any proper noblewoman he’d ever known. He had no idea what to do with her.

But a very clear and detailed image of what he wanted to do with her readily flashed into his mind. It would not have been the smartest thing at the given moment, nor in compliance with protocol.

All of a sudden, he felt as if he’d been starved for the taste of her for years, had been waiting for her. The meeting of their lips, the physical connection between them, was startling. He had expected to enjoy kissing her, but the sensations taking over his body went way beyond that.

Instant heat.

Instant need.

There was absolutely no way she could deny it, although he knew she would try. He didn’t even mind. He was looking forward to going a couple of rounds with her before she gave in.

He had no doubt in his mind that she would see reason eventually. The draw was too strong between them. He was prepared to pursue her until she accepted him.

Too soon, she twisted away. Her face was flushed, her eyes deep lavender pools.

He eased out of his focused need, into a teasing smile. “Would being married to me be that terrible?” He was surprised to find that her response would matter quite a bit to him.

She dragged in air, her nostrils flaring. She didn’t much look like the demure young ladies at court as she said in her toughest, meanest voice yet, “Don’t you ever do that again.”

He drew a slow breath, held it, then let it out as he considered.

“All right,” he said brusquely, even as his body demanded more of her. “I won’t kiss you again. You do, however,” he added, and let the challenge stand between them, “have my permission to kiss me any time you wish.”