The Royal & The Runaway Bride (Dynasties: The Connellys Book 7)

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The Royal & The Runaway Bride (Dynasties: The Connellys Book 7) Page 10

by Kathryn Jensen


  “A sensible decision.” He grinned in approval.

  The women he’d grown up around would have spent his last lira in a minute. Alex understood the value of hard-earned cash, and he respected her all the more for that thrifty streak.

  They walked back to the boat then spent the afternoon investigating the shoreline from the water, stopping to chat with fishermen now and then. For as long as Phillip could remember, he hadn’t felt this relaxed, this happy.

  It was dusk before they sailed back into the sheltered cove on Altaria where they’d traded for the boat. Phillip regretfully turned over the dory to the fisherman they’d borrowed it from. He felt more than a little sad at leaving behind such a sturdy little boat.

  It was a far cry from the sleek, modern yachts he’d sailed all of his life. Even his experiment with plain, functional boat design seemed unnecessarily luxurious compared to the fishing boats of the island. The dory brought him back to basics, back to his love of the water and with the freedom and challenge it bestowed on all who sailed.

  As they walked into his villa’s foyer, a manservant met Phillip at the door. “La signorina Alex has a telephone message, from the United States. The caller, he say it is urgente.” He handed Alex a slip of paper with numbers written on it.

  She looked down at it and, as Phillip stood by, her wind-flushed cheeks faded to a chalky gray. “Oh.”

  “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  “I’m not sure. This is my father’s number, in Chicago. I should call right away.”

  He nodded. “Use my office. You’ll have privacy there if you shut the door.”

  Alex smiled gratefully at him, feeling guilty because, without even trying to, she was adding another level of deception to their relationship. That was, if they had a relationship and the weekend hadn’t been just a fling for Phillip.

  Nothing about it felt flinglike to her. What they had shared together seemed real, substantial, important. She hoped she wasn’t reading too much into the weekend, or into the man.

  They had made amazing love together. She shivered pleasurably at recalled sensations, but firmly pushed them aside. If her father had gone to the trouble of tracking her down here at a stranger’s house, his call must be of vital importance.

  She plucked the entire telephone off the inlaid surface of the massive dark wood desk. Dropping down on a couch at the opposite end of the book-lined room from Phillip’s desk, she set the phone in her lap. Alex dialed the summer house on the lake, having recognized the number there.

  Grant himself answered.

  “Daddy, it’s Alexandra. I’m sorry I couldn’t get right back to you. I was traveling and out of touch for a couple of days.”

  “It’s all right, dear. We were just worried about you. At first, no one at the palace seemed to know where you were. Then Daniel explained about your riding accident and about the horse’s owner taking you in. Are you sure you shouldn’t come home now and have our physician take a look at that shoulder?”

  A shadow passed across the window to Alex’s left, distracting her for a second. She turned, expecting to see someone, but no one was there. She frowned, puzzled. Had somebody been watching her through the window and quickly moved off before she could see them?

  Had it been Phillip? she wondered. But he didn’t seem the type to spy on her. If he wanted to know what her call was about, he would have asked.

  Her father was speaking and she tried to focus on his words, but an uneasy feeling stayed with her. Someone most definitely had been in that window a moment ago, someone who hadn’t wanted to be seen.

  “After you left town so quickly,” Grant continued, “we were all pretty upset. But your mother and I have wondered if you might want to come home and discuss your future more calmly…or if you might have had second thoughts about Robert.”

  “Not a one,” she said sharply, then regretted taking out the instant flare of anger brought on by her fiancé’s name, on her father. “I’m sorry, Daddy, it hasn’t been easy. I thought I knew him, but I didn’t.”

  “You’ve never explained why you called off the wedding.”

  It was true. She’d left a vague note saying there wasn’t going to be a wedding. She could destroy Robert Marsh’s career by telling her father the whole truth right now. He’d fire the jerk without batting an eye. But revenge wasn’t her style.

  “I just realized that his job meant more to him than I did,” she said quietly. Which was, after all, the truth. Climbing toward a directorship in her father’s company had inspired his romantic fervor. It hadn’t mattered whether she had blond hair or black, was short or tall, had a brain in her head. She was simply a vehicle.

  “Your mother can attest to my being a workaholic, too,” Grant offered gently. “If you love each other, you find ways to—”

  “No, Daddy. It wasn’t like that. I just…I don’t love Robert. I don’t suppose I ever did.”

  “I see.” He coughed once, then again. “Well, we won’t go into further details on that subject. You sound as if, at least now, you know your own mind. We’re here to support you, dear, whatever you decide to do next.”

  Alex smiled. If she knew nothing else, it was that her heart didn’t belong to Robert Dexter Marsh of Chicago. She was saving it for someone else. A man who loved her for who she was, whatever that might someday be.

  “Thank you,” she said. “For the time being I’m happy to be learning a lot about myself, very quickly, too.”

  “Good.” There was a brief pause on the other end of the line. Then Grant spoke again. “I actually have another reason for calling you, Alex. Since the attempt on your brother’s life, you know how careful we’ve all had to be. Until we find the person who tried to kill him and the reason behind it, we must be vigilant.”

  A warning tingle raced up her spine. “Has something happened at home? Is everyone all right?”

  “We’re all fine,” Grant assured her, but his tone was ominous and she thought she heard a desperate tiredness underlying his words. “I just wanted to pass along news of some odd things happening here, to keep you informed, just in case.”

  “Tell me about it,” she said tightly. “I half suspect that someone has been following me here in Altaria.”

  “Then be sure you’re never alone, and stay with people you know and trust. This Phillip Kinrowan, your host, is he a man to be relied upon? Do you know enough about him to put your life in his hands, Alexandra?”

  “He’s okay, Daddy. He’d never hurt me.” But was that true? Did she really know Phillip or was she just saying that because it was what she wanted to believe?

  “All right, then,” Grant muttered. “But I’d feel better if you were at the palace with ample security. Daniel is worried about you, too, you know. I think he believes your breakup with Robert might cause you to do something foolish.”

  “I’ll stop in and see him,” she promised.

  “Good.” He gave an audible sigh. “One last thing. Just so you know, my assistant, Charlotte, you remember her?”

  “Of course,” Alex said.

  “Well, she’s been acting strangely lately. I’m beginning to suspect she’s up to something she shouldn’t be, and if it has anything to do with this family or the company…” He let the thought go. “At any rate, I’m having Starwind and Reynolds, our investigators, follow her. I can’t tell you how deeply this troubles me. I’ve always thought Charlotte was a loyal employee, but I can’t afford even a small leak during the investigation.”

  “I know, Daddy. I’m sure even Charlotte would understand, given the circumstances. We all have to be careful.”

  She slid her gaze around to the window again, but nothing was there. Then, fleetingly, she thought of Phillip. He required a different sort of caution, didn’t he? She’d trust him with her life. But should she trust him with her heart?

  Seven

  Phillip walked through the stables early the next morning, still feeling the warmth of Alex’s body pressed up against his. Th
e previous night when he and Alex had returned from their experiment in frugality, neither of them had spoken of sleeping arrangements. After sipping brandies by the fire in his library, cuddled up on the divan, they’d strolled hand in hand to his bedroom as if by silent agreement. There they made slow, luscious love and fell asleep in each other’s arms. It had seemed the natural thing to do after the intimacy of their weekend together.

  In the morning when Cook brought him his coffee, there was a second cup and scone on the tray, along with sliced strawberries and a bowl of rich clotted cream. How the woman knew that his relationship with Alex had changed he didn’t dare to ask. Perhaps she’d first stopped at Alex’s room, found her bed empty then made the correct assumption.

  Whatever, they were now together, the household seemed to know it, and, to Phillip’s amazement, he welcomed this new development in his life.

  Never had he greeted a morning so happily. As if in direct contrast to his present mood, he recalled a reckless weekend a year or more ago. In hindsight, it had been a mistake. But he’d been so terribly lonely, and Angelica, a woman from the other side of the island, had seemed equally in need of companionship. Someone to talk to, to touch if only for a night or two.

  The mornings when they’d awakened together had been awkward. That Monday, he’d been honest with her and apologized if he’d led her to believe that he was interested in anything more than sharing a few nights with her. To his relief, she had taken his dismissal with a shrug and left after Cook had fed her a hearty breakfast. He hadn’t heard from or seen her since.

  But there was something odd about the way they’d met, Phillip mused as he crossed the yard toward the house again. And something unnerving about the way Angelica had moved through his house during those two days, taking in the furnishings, paintings, even the flowers in his garden with a possessive eye. Women like that made him nervous.

  No, more than nervous. They terrified him. How long had it taken him to see through his wife? How easy it had been for other women to portray themselves in a way that appealed to a man, then turn around and be another person entirely once they had trapped him into marriage.

  The bitterness he’d thought he had left behind returned with a ferocity that shocked him. Why now? Why when he was safe from deceit and feminine wiles? Perhaps it was just that the habit of being suspicious was so hard to break.

  Phillip cracked open the door to the library and looked inside. Alex was curled up on his couch, deeply involved in a book she’d pulled from his shelf. She was such a wonderfully different sort of female, so easy to understand. She came from simple beginnings and expected so little from him. She was a dedicated and gifted trainer. Her love of horses was evident in the way she spoke to and touched them in his stables. Alex was pure and honest and good. And, he was sure, she would never ask anything of him he couldn’t willingly give. That made her very special indeed. That made her safe to be around a man like him whose wealth and title had proven so tempting to others.

  He silently closed the door, leaving her to enjoy her book, and returned to the foyer where mail and phone messages from the weekend lay waiting for him. After sorting through the envelopes, he lifted the small leather-bound book that served as a telephone log. Dr. Elgado had called, checking on his patient. A contractor who was supposed to give him a bid on repairing several stalls in the north stable had tried to reach him. There was a formal invitation to a reception at the palace in two weeks. He would, of course, bring Alex as his date, if she liked and was still in Altaria. And his lawyer had called twice. He didn’t know what that could be about; there was no message other than a mention that it was important and he should return the call as soon as possible.

  “Phillip?”

  He turned with a smile to Alex who had come up behind him without his hearing her footsteps. She’d marked her place in the book with a finger held between the pages.

  “Good morning, again,” he murmured. Kissing her on the cheek, he lifted a stray wisp of ebony hair off her forehead, which was furrowed in concentration. “Something wrong? Your shoulder bothering you?”

  “No, nothing like that.” She glanced behind her toward the library. “Last night, while I was calling home—” She hesitated. “It’s probably nothing, but was anyone working outside the house, maybe on the grounds nearby?”

  He shook his head. “It was dark by that time. Why?”

  “I don’t know. It’s just that as soon as we came back here, I felt as if someone was watching me. There was a moment when, through the office window, while I was talking to my father…” She shrugged.

  Phillip frowned. “I don’t see how that could be. Or why.”

  She parted her lips as if she was about to say something more, but stopped herself.

  “What is it, Alex? Is something wrong?” Why did he suddenly feel that she wasn’t just confused or frightened by whatever she’d imagined or thought she’d seen? Why did he get the feeling she might intentionally be keeping something from him? “Do you have to return to Chicago sooner than you thought?”

  “No, no, it’s not that.” She chewed her bottom lip. Her green eyes looked troubled. “Listen, there’s something I need to tell you, something important I should have said to you days ago.”

  A warning tingle raced through his veins. The urgency in her voice was real and sharp. What could she have kept from him that would make her so jumpy? She gazed beseechingly up at him, and his heart stopped.

  She’s married, he speculated, and something inside of him died a little. He had been attracted to married women before. Some had even made it clear they were more than willing to ignore their vows to pursue an affair with him. But he had never allowed himself to become involved with a married woman.

  He felt a desperate anger surge within him. “The story about leaving your fiancé at the altar…that was a lie.” He ground out the words between clenched teeth. He said it aloud this time. “You’re married, aren’t you?”

  “No, no,” she said quickly, “all that’s true! And I’m glad I did leave Robert, because if I hadn’t I wouldn’t have met you!” Tears clung to her lashes.

  Phillip longed to reach out and dash them away, to draw her into his arms and comfort her. But a heavy feeling down low in his gut told him he wasn’t going to like what she was about to say next. He stepped forward and seized her by the shoulders.

  “Then what is it, Alex?”

  “I…my name isn’t—”

  The front door swung open and in strode Barnaby Jacobs, his lawyer. Phillip spun to meet him, scowling at the interruption. “What is it, Barnaby?” he snapped impatiently.

  “Guess you’ve already heard if you’re in that kind of mood,” Jacobs commented with a wry smile. Phillip somehow knew the pinched tug on the man’s lips wasn’t meant to convey humor.

  Then the lawyer’s glance took in Alex. “Sorry, didn’t realize you had a guest, my friend.”

  “Heard what?” Phillip barked.

  Barnaby frowned at Alex. “This young lady isn’t by any chance the one who—?”

  “Alex Anderson. She’s a trainer from the Connelly party, visiting the palace. Alex,” he said, turning to her, “meet Barnaby Jacobs, my attorney, and oldest friend, who seems to have forgotten his manners as well as lost his ability to explain himself.”

  “Sorry. I’m just glad— Oh, never mind.” The man still made no sense but he sounded relieved. His pale gray eyes flickered to Alex, then back to his client. He removed a straw hat from his head and held it, along with his briefcase, between two hands in front of him. “Listen, Phillip, we need to talk and it can’t wait.”

  Phillip raked his fingers through his hair. “Suddenly it seems that everyone has crucial news to share.”

  Barnaby looked puzzled. “I don’t understand.”

  “Never mind. Come on, both of you, into the library where we can talk without the whole household hearing us.”

  Phillip watched Alex as she walked ahead of him. She didn’t look like
herself. All the sparkle had left her pretty eyes, and she seemed deep in thought.

  It would figure, the one woman he’d have liked to stay with for more than a night or two, and she was having second thoughts about him. Damn it to hell! What had he been thinking getting involved with her? He’d known she was only going to be in Altaria for a few weeks at the most. But there was something more to her sudden change in attitude toward him. He could sense it.

  “All right,” Phillip said, rounding on the two of them, “age before beauty. Out with it, Barnaby.”

  The lawyer set his briefcase on the coffee table and waved Phillip to a chair. “On second consideration, it appears you haven’t heard the news. So you’ll be better off sitting down.”

  “If it’s that bad, I’ll stand, thank you.” He shot Alex a puzzled look, still wondering what had been on her mind that had upset her so. What was the woman so afraid of admitting to him?

  “Are you sure you don’t want this to be more private?” Jacobs asked, clearly with Alex in mind.

  “Just get on with it.”

  “All right.” The attorney opened his briefcase and took out a sheaf of papers. “The short of it is, a young woman claims you’re the father of her baby.”

  Phillip stared at the man, then at the papers in his attorney’s hand. “What? You’re saying I’ve been named in a paternity suit?”

  “Exactly.” Barnaby took a pair of reading glasses from his case and perched them on the tip of his bulbous nose. He consulted the pages before him. “A Ms. Angelica Terro affirms that you and she had an affair on or about the tenth of January of last year—”

  “Two bloody nights, over a year ago!” Phillip roared, avoiding Alex’s astonished gaze. He seriously regretted having involved her in this discussion. “I met the woman in a bar. It was stupid. I was lonely and upset, and she was there. End of story.”

  “Not precisely the end, apparently. You did sleep with her, right?” Barnaby asked, his tone grave.

 

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