Читать книгу Found: His Royal Baby - Raye Morgan - Страница 7

CHAPTER THREE

ALEXANDRA stared at her reflection in the mirror and wondered who that was looking back. She looked haunted, scared, hopeless. And she needed to appear calm and cool and collected. Could she be all those things at once?

Hardly.

Things were rapidly careening out of control. She’d done the unthinkable—brought the crown prince of Carnethia to her only hideout, the only place where she was sure she could be safe. She’d brought the man she was hiding from right into the heart of her refuge. What was she thinking?

But no matter how crazy it seemed, she hadn’t had a lot of choice. She couldn’t have left him in that hotel room. And what else was she going to do with him? Dump him by the side of the highway?

“We could leave him at the house of a loyalist I know who lives not far off the highway,” Henri had suggested. “From there, we could contact the palace and tell them where he could be found.”

She sighed. “And have the loyalist arrested for his trouble? I don’t think so.”

Not only that, but knowing the feelings left over from the war, she didn’t trust anyone on either side to do the honorable thing. She wasn’t going to let him out of her sight until they found a way to get him back where he belonged.

Of course, this set up quite a dilemma for her. She didn’t want to leave Dane alone, and she didn’t want to leave her baby alone, and yet she couldn’t let Dane know she had the baby with her. She was caught in a balancing act and felt like a tightrope walker whose rope had begun to sway. There had to be some resolution—fast!

Rising from the dressing table in her third-floor bedroom, she turned to look at where Dane lay on her bed, still under the effects of the tranquilizer. Henri had tied his legs together at the ankles and then bound his wrists and tied them above his head to a bolt he’d put in the wall behind the bed.

She hated to see that. She’d stood beside Henri the whole time he’d worked on it, urging him to be careful. But she knew the man was right when he insisted Dane had to be restrained somehow. Still, this was terrible. He was a prince. How could they treat him like this? Right now, she just wanted this whole thing to be over.

Moving closer, she looked down at him, checking his breathing as she’d done every few moments since they’d left the Lion’s Mane. He still seemed to be doing all right. She touched the pulse at the side of his neck and nodded. There was no sign of distress in his vitals.

Her face softened as she studied him. His eyes were shadowed darkly, but his color was good and his face was as beautiful as ever. Her smile was bittersweet. What right did he have to be so gorgeous? It wasn’t fair.

Memories flooded back, pictures of how she’d found him that last month of the war, barely alive, in the flooded ditch behind the warehouse on her family’s horse farm in the hills of Carnethia. She’d dragged him out of his smashed vehicle and into the stables and found a place with sweet, clean straw where she could keep him without others knowing.

She remembered every detail of that night, how he’d lain there where she’d hidden him, wounded and unconscious. She’d done her best, with her simple, rudimentary medical training, to clean out his wounds and sanitize them, to stop the bleeding and make him as comfortable as possible.

She didn’t dare tell anyone he was there. The Nationals were rapidly losing the war and they were frantic. They would have killed him with relish. She didn’t even dare go for medical help. The few doctors left on the National side were already overworked. Besides, emotions were running high and there was no guarantee that they wouldn’t have killed him either.

So she’d been alone, working on hope and whatever she could remember from her training, scared to death she would somehow blot out the flicker that remained of his life. But that hadn’t happened, and her ministrations seemed to have been enough. He was alive today.

She remembered the fear she’d lived with, how she’d watched over him, checking his wounds for signs of infection, nursing him through his fever. And hiding him from her family and the servants. It wasn’t until the third night that she began to hope he might not die after all.

And then he woke up, stronger than she could have expected he would be. The rest of what happened had seemed like a dream, even then. Somehow, they’d come together, and her baby had been conceived.

Remembering that now, she looked at him. He was still unconscious. His shirt was half-open, the buttons undone. Had those awful wounds healed? Moving slowly, she reached out, slipping her hand under the loose fabric and running it lightly down his chest. Everything she could see looked good and seemed tight and smooth.

She indulged in letting her hand take in the magic of his form for a few seconds. Her heart began to pound. Taking in a quick breath, she pulled away, but at the same time, she glanced up at his face and gasped. His eyes were wide-open, watching her. She jerked her hand away, flushing with chagrin.

“Enjoy yourself,” he muttered gruffly, giving a tug to his bonds and wincing at the effort to talk. “But when you’re finished, I wish you’d tell me what the hell is going on.”

“I was just checking…” she began guiltily. Her voice faded as she realized she had nothing to add. Her cheeks were bright with embarrassment, but she was determined to ignore all that. She frowned at him, lifting her chin.

“As to what’s going on, I think that’s pretty self-evident. We’ve got you tied up.”

That didn’t sound good. She traced her lower lip nervously with her tongue. She wished she could reassure him: This is just for now. We’ll be letting you go as soon as possible. But she couldn’t do that. He had to see her as strong and resolute.

“Be cooperative and you won’t get hurt,” she said instead, then turned away and grimaced.

“Are you insane?” he demanded angrily, glaring up at her. “This is kidnapping. You can go to prison for this.”

“No.” But she knew he was right. A dull panic was beating just under her radar, but she couldn’t let it surface. “Listen, we had to do this. We couldn’t leave you there in the hotel. I…we were worried that someone might do something.”

“Like shoot me with a tranquilizer dart?” he broke in scornfully. “Hey, too late. I think that’s already been done.”

“Dane, listen….”

But he wasn’t about to do that. Instead, he wrenched viciously at his bonds, cold anger in his face, swearing a blue streak as he yanked and twisted on the bed.

“Dane, stop it! You’re going to pull your arms right out of their sockets,” she cried, standing just out of reach and feeling helpless. “Stop and think. You’re not a wild beast who beats itself senseless against the bars of its cage. This will get you nowhere.”

He paused, breathing raggedly. Sweat glistened on his skin and a trickle of blood made a trail down his forearm. He’d only managed to tighten the cord that held him, but it hardly mattered.

He’d made this ridiculous display out of frustration and anger. He’d never actually expected it to help him get away. Whoever had tied him up had done a fairly professional job of it. The man knew his knots. It was going to take brains and cunning to get himself released. And that would take a bit of time.

“Dane, we only did what we had to do.” She rushed on before he had a chance to dispute that. “If you can stay calm, we’ll get through this. We’re working on finding a way to release you to your people. But it will take a little more time.”

He pulled on the rope that held his wrists. There was anger in his eyes. How could there not be? And yet, he was now calm, watchful.

“Tell you what, Alex. Cut this damn cord and all will be forgiven. Deal?”

“Sorry.”

And she really was. She just hated this. Her gaze fell on his wrists, torn raw by his actions, and she winced. “You’ll have to stay that way for now. But it shouldn’t be for much longer.”

He glanced around the room, checking it out. Was he actually tied up in her bedroom? Or was he dreaming? The whole situation felt surreal.

“So what’s the game plan, Alex?” he asked her icily.

She stood over him, hands on her hips, determined not to let him box her into a corner. He was framing this as all her fault. Well, in a way it was, but still, he had something to do with it. She hadn’t exactly invited him to drop in at four in the morning.

“You tell me,” she said with spirit. “And while you’re at it, can you explain just exactly why you had to get in the way this morning?”

He frowned, his dark brows lowering. “You know why. I wanted to talk to you.”

She sighed, looking down at him with troubled eyes.

“We can’t talk, Dane. Not anymore. What we have to do is negotiate. Don’t you see that? Like two huge ships trying to pass each other in narrow straits.”

“That’s ridiculous.” He dismissed it out of hand, looking around. “How did you get me here, anyway?”

“I had help.” She sank into a chair beside the bed. “And luckily, we managed to evade your security detail.”

His gaze came back to meet hers. “What security detail? I didn’t have one. I came alone to find you.”

She stared at him. She could hardly believe that. After the war and all both sides had been through, it seemed illogical at best. “Why would you do something so irresponsible? Who do you think you are?”

He searched her eyes, then laughed softly, though the laughter had a bitter edge.

“Alexandra, I wanted to talk to you. Just you. Not your advisors or guards or brothers. You. Man to woman.” He paused, then added softly, “Lover to lover.”

“Oh, Dane.” Closing her eyes, she turned her face away.

Watching her, he shook his head. “Where are we?”

She looked back at him and wondered what she’d been thinking to bring him here. She’d sent the rest of her entourage to Paris to stay with the community of exiles from the war who had gathered there. That was where her brothers were living and where their father was getting hospital care. She pretended to be traveling by train to Amsterdam, but instead she’d come to stay anonymously in the top two floors of a row house in Triade, a country town about fifty miles to the south. She would have good protection there. The building was owned by an old comrade of her father’s who was completely loyal and trustworthy. He would make sure no one knew she was there. She and her prisoner.

“I can’t tell you that,” she said to Dane.

“Of course not.” His gaze hardened. “More to the point, where’s the baby?”

She stared into his eyes for a long, long moment, then rose and headed for the door.

“Where are you going?” he called after her.

She whirled, frowning at him. “I’m going to see if I can’t find a way to send you home more quickly,” she told him. “Isn’t that what you want?”

“No,” he told her frankly with another hard yank at the rope that held him. “I want to see the baby and I want to see it now.”

“Dane!” Marching back, she glared down at him. “You are hardly in the position to be giving orders. We’re not in Carnethia. You’re not royalty here. You’re just a prisoner. So get used to it.”

Without another word, she turned on her heel and left, closing the door behind her.

Looking around the room again, Dane let off a string of obscenities. He’d fallen into a trap one more time. Hard to believe that someone so skilled and well trained could let this happen.