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

by Kathryn Jensen

  He had no idea where it came from, this negative force that pricked at him, so that as soon as he felt drawn to Alex, he sensed her pushing him away. Even as they’d made love earlier, there was that mysterious struggle between them. They were like the ends of two magnets. When turned one way they drew together with amazing force; when one was turned the other way around, the energy repelled just as strongly.

  Cook served their meal. Phillip picked at the lobster tail swimming in melted butter on his plate. He watched Alex take a long sip of her champagne, then put the delicate crystal stemware down with shaking fingers. What was so difficult for her to say to him? Perhaps he could encourage her by starting the conversation.

  “I can’t tell you,” he began, “how much I appreciate all you did today.”

  She looked across the table at him, her right eyebrow lifting. “Me? I didn’t do anything special,” she murmured quickly, as if embarrassed at the thought.

  “Come on now,” he said with a forced laugh. “Eros might have been killed if he’d reached the highway before we caught him. Or, as you yourself pointed out, he might have trampled someone in his state of panic. You risked your life to go after him the way you did.”

  “I suppose,” she murmured, her sad gaze returning to her untouched plate.

  He reached out a hand and rested it over hers on the tablecloth. “What’s wrong, Alex? You can tell me. Does it still have something to do with Angelica?”

  She shook her head. “No. I was very proud of you. You knew from the beginning that you weren’t the father of that child, yet you were so willing to help them. Because of you, they have a chance of making it.” She smiled sweetly at him, but behind the smile something dark loomed.

  He took a deep breath. “So now you know,” he said slowly, with emphasis, to make sure she understood, “that I’d never desert you if you needed me.”

  She looked stricken.

  “That’s a good thing, isn’t it?” He frowned, sensing her unwillingness, even now, to speak words that were painful to her. “Unless you aren’t interested in continuing our relationship. Is that it?”

  He looked away from her when she didn’t answer, picked up his glass and drank down the remainder of his champagne in a single swallow. His stomach clenched and his hand felt unsteady as he placed the flute back on the table.

  Perhaps he’d been too confident all along. She wasn’t worried about his staying with her, after all. She was trying to think of a gentle way to tell him goodbye. What an idiot he’d been.

  “No,” she whispered at last. “Of course that’s not it.” She turned her hand over and laced her fingers with his, holding him as if she wanted to prevent his pulling away from her. “You see, when we first met—”

  “What is it?” Phillip demanded impatiently.

  She stopped midsentence, at first not realizing that he was speaking to someone else. Following his stony glare, she turned to find one of his servants standing behind her chair.

  “Miss has a telephone call,” the man said. “A Mr. Grant Connelly from the United States. Shall I bring the phone here or—”

  “I’ll take it inside,” Alex said quickly.

  “I hope your employer isn’t summoning you home,” Phillip said.

  Alex shot him a strange look he couldn’t interpret then rushed from the table.

  He poured himself more champagne, wishing for something stronger. His nerves stung with anticipation. He wished to God that he could read Alex’s mind. It couldn’t be as bad as she was making it out to be. Could it?

  Maybe the Connellys were putting pressure on her to leave, to return to her job back in Chicago. He could fix that. He could offer her a higher salary to come to Altaria and work for him. He’d make sure her hours were short, so that they’d have plenty of time to spend together.

  Whatever was wrong, he was sure he could handle it…if she let him. If she wasn’t just looking for a way out.

  In the dim foyer, Alex picked up the phone. She had been so close to telling Phillip everything. So very close. She was out of breath, dizzy and disoriented. If it hadn’t been for her father’s call, she would have blurted out her whole story right then and there.

  But she couldn’t put her father off when so much was happening within the family. They had all been terribly frightened when Daniel had come so close to death, and now that they were sure it had been an intentional attempt on his life and the investigation might turn up valuable evidence at any moment, she knew she had to talk to Grant.

  “Hi, Daddy, what’s up?” she asked in a whisper, hoping none of the staff was near enough to hear her. She stepped to one side, bringing the phone with her so that she could see Phillip sitting on the veranda.

  “I wanted to update you on the investigation from this side of the pond,” he said, using the English way of referring to the Atlantic. “I told you I was having Charlotte followed?”

  “Yes?”

  “Well, it seems she was acting strange for a reason. They tracked her to an obstetrician’s office. She’s pregnant.”

  Alex nearly laughed with relief. “Well, that’s innocent enough. What woman wouldn’t be acting odd if she thought she might be pregnant? She’s not married, right?”

  “No.”

  “Well, there you go.” Alex couldn’t wait to get off the phone, now that she knew the news wasn’t serious. Phillip looked restless. “She has a dilemma, and it’s been preying on her mind.”

  Alex could almost see Grant shaking his head in his grim way, as if he were in a board meeting, shooting down a proposal from one of his junior execs. “It may well be more than that. She’s not making public the identity of the father. And that might have some bearing on the case.”

  “How?”

  “If she’s in trouble, she could be vulnerable to certain situations. Let’s say that someone has infiltrated the company and is working against the family, then this person could be blackmailing her, threatening to reveal information that might cost her job. She might be protecting the father of her child, or, if he’s conspiring against us, she might be feeding him information. We just don’t know, but she could be the weak link in the organization.”

  “But she seems so nice,” Alex said with a sigh.

  “We’re playing with unscrupulous people, my dear. Don’t forget that. They’re capable of killing to get what they want, so they’re capable of anything. Starwind and Reynolds know that, and you should, too.”

  She closed her eyes, suddenly feeling very cold. She trembled. “I guess you’re right.” It was just that here, with Phillip, she had felt safe. Murder and treachery seemed so distant, even though it was here, in Altaria, where it had all begun.

  “So when are you coming home?” Grant asked. “Your mother and I are worried about you.”

  “I know you are. I’m so sorry you and Mom were left to explain your daughter’s disappearance. We’ll talk more when I come home. Let’s just say, for now, that I had my reasons for rushing off the way I did.”

  “I’ve never doubted that,” Grant said firmly. “And if you ever want to confide in us, you know that your mother and I are here for you, Alexandra.”

  “Thank you, Daddy.”

  It seemed to Alex a shame that now, when things were suddenly becoming clear to her, when she was finally grasping what life was all about, finally understanding how happy she could be with the very simplest of lives, she might lose it all by admitting to the man who meant the world to her that she had deceived him.

  Five minutes later, she hung up the phone. Her head felt so full at the moment. Her brother’s upcoming coronation, an attempt on his life, the possibility of her father’s company being the target of industrial espionage, the mysterious person following her. She should be home, helping her family through these trying times.

  Yet her heart was here in Altaria, and she owed Phillip the truth. Now. No more stalling, no more interruptions.

  Alex turned to leave the foyer when she glimpsed a flash of somet
hing light-colored on the landing above her. She looked up the stairway toward her room, barely visible around the corner. She was certain she heard a door open. A thread of light passed across the dim hallway. A latch clicked shut.

  Alex frowned. It could have been a maid of course. But her room was usually cleaned early in the day. Her shoulder ached dully, as if reacting to a change in the weather, or a warning of some sort.

  Rubbing the sore joint thoughtfully, Alex crossed the foyer and climbed the stairs to the second floor. As she neared the top, she thought about her father’s warning. A voice at the very back of her mind told her she should call Phillip or have one of the staff go with her, just in case there really was an intruder. Another voice reminded her how foolish she’d feel if she’d been spooked by one of the maids.

  Slowly, she stepped onto the lush silk oriental carpet that lined the hallway. For a moment she stood there, not moving, just listening. Muffled footfalls came from inside one of the rooms, moving cautiously, as if not wanting to be heard. Were they coming from her room? She turned her back on her room to look down the long passageway dimly lit by antique sconces. All of the other doors were closed, too.

  There was a click behind her, and she spun around to find Gregor Paulus, his hand still on her doorknob. He looked as startled as she felt, his lips quivering, then he produced a wary smile.

  “There you are, miss. I’ve been looking for you.”

  “In my room?” She narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously. “Maria didn’t tell me you were here.”

  “I couldn’t find her,” he said, as quick as ever with his answers. “So I thought I’d not bother the staff. I have an important message from your brother.”

  “He could have telephoned,” she said tightly. She didn’t believe the man. She was certain he’d been snooping through her room.

  “I’m sorry if I’ve intruded,” Paulus said obsequiously. “I was only trying to be discreet. You see, I know what you’ve been doing.”

  The words settled like an icy blanket of snow over a sunny day. Was the man threatening her? “I don’t understand,” she said slowly.

  “Your little game with the prince of Silverdorn.” His smile turned sly and humorless, reptilian. “He doesn’t know who you are, does he, Ms. Connelly? You’ve convinced him you’re a common working girl, isn’t that so?”

  She took a step back, her insides taut. “My relationship with Phillip Kinrowan is none of your business. You’re supposed to be my brother’s aide. That duty doesn’t include spying on his sister.” She was furious, and it showed in her tone. Her voice was louder than was wise, but she was losing her patience with the man.

  “I’m only looking out for our young king’s best interests,” Paulus objected smoothly. He appeared entirely too pleased with himself.

  “I don’t think you are, sir,” Alex hissed. “I think you might be looking out for your own interests, whatever they may be. Maybe I should tell Daniel that you’ve been stalking me, and see what he thinks of that.”

  She hadn’t known for sure that it had been Paulus, but as soon as she’d accused him, his face paled. Her guess had apparently been on target.

  “I’m offended!” Paulus snapped. “Why would I follow you around when I have—”

  “What’s going on up there?” a voice roared from the foyer below.

  Alex spun around to see Phillip rushing up the stairs in twos. Her heart jammed itself up into her throat. How much had he heard?

  Above all, she couldn’t allow him to learn of her deception from someone else. She must be the one to tell him. She kicked herself for having waited so long.

  Gregor Paulus snapped to attention, his beady eyes gleaming. “I’ve come with a message from the king for—”

  “For me,” Alex said hastily. “I’m going to have to go over to the palace for a few hours tomorrow. Gregor,” she said, turning to the royal aide, “thank you for stopping by to tell me on your way into town. I appreciate it. I’ll speak with you about this tomorrow.” She made sure he understood from her expression that she wouldn’t tell Phillip he’d been snooping through her room if he didn’t let the cat out of the bag for her.

  Paulus executed a stiff bow. “I’ll look forward to seeing you,” he said, his expression devoid of all its former sinister gleam. Had she imagined it before? He turned toward the stairs.

  Phillip waited until he heard the front door open then close with a solid clack. He turned to Alex. “What was that all about?”

  She started to move toward the stairs. “Let’s finish dinner. I’m still hungry.”

  “Alex, we need to talk. You’ve been trying to tell me something for days, and I’ve put you off. Now that slimy aide-de-camp shows up, and neither of you look as if you’re telling the truth.”

  She was already halfway down the stairs to the foyer, and he had no option but to follow her out onto the veranda. She sat down at the table, sipped from her glass of champagne, and her gaze took in the breadth of the horizon. It was the look of a woman who wasn’t going to stay in one place for much longer, and his heart lurched desperately.

  “If I were to tell you,” she whispered with effort, “that you didn’t really know me, that we may have moved too quickly to give a long-lasting relationship a chance at—”

  “I’d think you were trying to dump me,” he said with a laugh. Almost immediately, his face straightened. “We started this same conversation once before. What are you trying to say, Alex?” He hesitated when she dropped her head forward and stared hopelessly into her hands in her lap. “Are you trying to say you’re leaving, Alex?”

  She shook her head, looking tormented. “No. No, that’s not what I’m trying to do. I just think that…well, sometimes first impressions…they aren’t always accurate. Are they?”

  He scowled, totally confused now. What on earth was the woman getting at? “You mean, I’ve misunderstood something about you? Then straighten me out. What should I know about you that’s different?”

  Her words caught in her throat, giving them a raspy edge. “Just about everything.” Alex’s thin arms wrapped protectively around her ribs. Her lovely face paled to the shade of the marble statues in his garden.

  Phillip stared at her, feeling suddenly very cold. “You don’t work for the Connelly family, do you?”

  “No.”

  A rage had started to build on the hurt that came with the knowledge she’d lied to him. Lied to him not just once, but for days, and in the most intimate of situations. “Then why were you at the ball the night we met? Why did you seem so close to them when I first saw you that night?”

  She let out a deep sigh. “Because…because…” She bit down on her bottom lip so hard he was sure in another instant she’d draw blood.

  “Because you’re one of them. You’re a Connelly,” he guessed, and the moment he’d said it, he could see from the shattered look in her eyes that he was right.

  Phillip fell back into his chair and glared at her. She had deliberately deceived him. She’d played him for a fool. How she must have laughed when he’d confided in her about his marriage, about fearing women who were after his money and title! Had she boasted to her brother, the new king, about her little game?

  “The only time you were honest with me was when you told me you liked to playact at being someone else. You were pretending to be a horse trainer that night.”

  “Yes.” The single word sounded as if it had been ripped from her.

  “You even came here to my home in the hope of convincing me you could retrain Eros. And you kept up the deception for weeks.”

  “Yes,” she admitted again. Tears streamed down her soft cheeks, but he felt not an ounce of pity for her. “Yes…yes,” she sobbed.

  “Is that all you can say, Alex?” he roared, pushing out of his chair to his feet.

  He took two long steps around the table and spun her chair around. Bracing clenched fists on the wicker arms, he leaned over her and spoke into her face. “What is it you want f
rom me, woman?”

  “Nothing, nothing!” She wept uncontrollably. “I never wanted anything from you, Phillip. I swear there was no such motive. I just got caught up in the fantasy. By the time I realized what a horrible thing I’d done, by the time it really counted…it was too late to tell you. I was afraid of—” She broke off and stared at him as if terrified of continuing.

  He fought the desire to comfort her. She didn’t deserve his compassion, he told himself. Not after what she’d done to him, not after the way she’d so selfishly toyed with his emotions.

  “Afraid of what?” he growled.

  “Afraid of losing you.” The words slipped between her lips so softly he wasn’t absolutely sure he’d heard them.

  But words no longer mattered, not when they came from a woman whose rich-girl games trampled on people’s lives. She was like a stampeding herd of horses, blindly crushing everything in her path. She was ten times more dangerous than a creature like Eros. At least he never intended harm, he was just reacting to his own fear. Alex calculatedly destroyed trust.

  “Lose me?” He towered over her. “You never had me, lady!”

  “Phillip.”

  He shook his head violently. “You’re just like all the rest, aren’t you, Alex Connelly? Or is your name even Alex?”

  “It’s still Alex. Short for Alexandra.” Pride tinged her voice and brought up her tiny chin defiantly, but tears burned trails down the back of her throat.

  “Well, Alexandra, I don’t care to associate with people who find humor in hurting others. I’d appreciate it if you’d return to your brother. The two of you can have a good, long laugh at how successful your latest charade turned out.”

  “No! Oh, Phillip, it isn’t…wasn’t like that at all.” Her emerald eyes pleaded with him.

  “Goodbye, Alex.”

  She watched him walk away, her heart a throbbing lump in her throat, a wretched, hollow, hopeless feeling in her gut. She’d lost him, the one man who had ever, would ever make her feel special just for being Alex.

  Not because she was Grant Connelly’s daughter, an heiress, a jet-setter with a taste for adventure. With Phillip she had just been herself, or as closely as possible to the self she was just now discovering. She had been a woman who loved horses, who wanted to write stories and who made love in the most exquisite ways because she was in love with the man in her bed.