Day Leclaire’s The Royals Bundle

by Day Leclaire

  During the interminable journey, a single goal formed, burning in the forefront of her mind, and she latched onto it with unwavering determination. She had to escape and return to Prince Brandt, no matter what that entailed. But how? Slowly, an idea grew through her fear and worry.

  There was little question that her abductor was attracted to her, even if he fought hard to resist that attraction. She’d seen the desire in those extraordinary eyes of his, the hunger that had risen unbidden to score his face when his hand hovered over the tiny pink ribbon holding her bra in place. It had been strong enough an attraction for him to act on, despite the circumstances and the clear need for haste. Assuming nothing better presented itself, she could attempt to seduce him in order to free herself, no matter how distasteful she found the prospect. Then, once she’d returned to Prince Brandt, she’d marry him if doing so ensured her mother’s safety.

  It was a frightening plan, one that just a short week ago would never have occurred to her. But she hadn’t come up with a better idea, and right now time was her enemy.

  She wriggled in place, the floor of the SUV uncomfortable. Unable to stand it for another moment, she inched onto the backseat, shoving the blanket under her head as a pillow. Over the next several minutes, she surreptitiously peeled the duct tape off her mouth, wincing as the glue left her sensitive skin raw and chapped.

  She took several slow, deep breaths, gathering her courage to speak. “You have to take me back,” she finally called to Merrick.

  He didn’t seem surprised to hear her speak. But then, if he’d wanted to permanently confine her, he would have wrapped the duct tape around her head instead of slapping a short strip across her mouth. And he’d have taped her wrists behind her instead of in front of her. She grimaced, wishing she’d thought of that a couple of hours ago.

  “You aren’t going back.”

  She sat upright. “Why not? Why have you abducted me?”

  “Lie down,” he snapped. “Keep out of sight or I’ll gag you again.”

  She stretched out along the backseat, unwilling to put his threat to the test. Not that anyone driving by could have seen her. Twilight was full upon them. “You don’t understand. I have to go back. It’s a matter of life or death.”

  “Very melodramatic, Princess.” He made a sharp turn that almost sent her plummeting to the floor again. “But my reasons for taking you are equally imperative.”

  “Please.” She choked on the word, despising the need to beg. But she’d do whatever necessary if it meant getting to her mother. “I’m not being melodramatic.”

  “This is not the time for that particular discussion.” The SUV came to a sudden halt and this time she did roll onto the floor, landing on her hands and knees. “Welcome to your new home.”

  Before Alyssa could get up, Merrick opened the door and lifted her out, setting her on her feet. She shook her hair from her face and forced herself to confront him. Shoeless, wearing little more than his shirt and a rumpled petticoat, she’d never felt more vulnerable in her life. Not that she’d allow that to undermine her determination. “You have to listen to me. There’s more than a marriage at stake here.”

  “I know far better than you what’s at stake,” he bit out, holding her in place with a hand on her arm. “This is my country, Princess. You come here and upset the political balance. All I’m doing is resetting that balance by removing you from the equation.”

  “I didn’t choose to come back here,” she argued. “And I don’t care about your country’s political problems. I only care about—”

  She broke off at his expression and if his grip hadn’t tightened just then, she’d have fallen back a step. In the little light that remained she could see a fierce anger turn his eyes to burnished gold, warning that she should have selected her words more judiciously. He leaned in, huge and intimidating, his comment little more than a whisper in the sultry night air.

  “Interesting that you care so little for Verdonia when you’re intent on becoming her queen. But somehow I’m not surprised. Your type sells herself for fame and fortune. Money and attention, that’s all you care about. The throne. The crown. The jewels.” He emphasized his point by flicking her earlobe with his index finger where a heavy amethyst and diamond earring hung. The pair were a gift Prince Brandt had insisted she wear for their wedding. “You have no concern for the people or their problems, only for yourself.”

  His comments threw her. They didn’t make a bit of sense, but instinct warned she’d do well to listen rather than question or argue. He released her arm and assisted her toward a small house set beneath a stand of towering pines, steadying her as she picked her way around a scattering of stones gleefully intent on torturing her bare feet. The structure was a pretty A-frame, what she could see of it through the gathering darkness. The roofline and shutters were decorated with gingerbread trim painted a crisp white that stood in sharp relief against the charcoal stain of the siding. High above, a balcony jutted out from the second level and no doubt offered a spectacular view of the surrounding area.

  “Where are we?” she asked.

  He paused by the front door and removed a set of keys from his pocket. “In Avernos, on the border of Celestia.”

  A fat lot of help that was. Maybe if she knew where Avernos or Celestia were, she’d have a clue. But she didn’t. The names weren’t the least bit familiar. “Why are we here? Why did you abduct me? What are you going to do with me?” So much for listening rather than peppering him with questions.

  He shoved the front door open without replying and ushered her inside, flipping on an overhead light. She looked around, filled with a reluctant curiosity. Directly in front of her a staircase led to the second level. To her left she caught a glimpse of a great room complete with a stone fireplace and wall-to-wall shelving overflowing with books. A dining room occupied the right side of the house and she could see a doorway leading to a kitchen at the far end.

  Merrick gestured toward the kitchen. “Let’s get something to eat.”

  “I’d rather not.”

  “No?” He lifted an eyebrow. “We could pick up where we left off earlier, if you’d prefer.”

  An image of them in the woods flashed through her mind, of his mouth on hers. Of his hands on her. Of heated desire and helpless surrender. Her throat went dry and she moistened her lips in response. Lord, she could still taste his distinctive flavor. Worse, she felt a craving to taste it again. “No kissing the bad guys, remember?”

  A grin slashed across his face, changing his appearance. Where before he’d been harsh and remote, his features were now rearranged into an expression she found quite stunning. A tug of forbidden desire swept over her, causing her to stumble backward. He must have noticed her awareness of him, or at the very least sensed the shimmer of sexual tension humming between them, because his smile grew.

  “You sure?”

  “Positive.”

  She tugged at the tape that restrained her hands. What a fool she was, she conceded bitterly. She’d wasted endless time in the car imagining herself capable of seducing this man. It had seemed reasonable at the time, even straightforward. But she’d never bothered to consider how she’d set about accomplishing such an impossible task. Should she simply touch him, drape her taped arms around his neck? Would that even be sufficient to provoke him to make the next move, or would she have to push it further still? Was she supposed to initiate a kiss or just offer her mouth for his possession?

  None of those issues had been addressed when she’d come up with her idiotic plan. And even if she enticed him to kiss her again, what would be her next step? Did she allow him to fondle her, to remove the shirt he’d given her and untie the little bow that held her bra in place? She shivered as her imagination took it one step further—the final, terrifying step. Did she let him make love to her? And once she had him focused on her sexually, how did that help her get away? It would only work if she knocked him out, or something.

  Standing in front of
him, confronting all that innate masculine strength and power forced her to concede how futile her plan was, not to mention foolhardy. For one thing, she suspected he’d instantly figure out what she was up to, which wouldn’t be beneficial to her overall health and well-being. And for another, her reaction to him warned that he’d have more success seducing her than the other way around. How could she keep her wits about her when every time she came within arm’s length of him her body sizzled with desperate heat?

  Her mouth tightened. Just because her body responded to him in such an unwelcome way didn’t mean she had to act on that response. If seducing him wouldn’t work, she’d have to remain alert to other possibilities.

  “Well, Princess?” he prompted. “I assume your silence means you’d prefer to eat.”

  “If the choice is food or picking up where we left off, then yes, I prefer to eat.” He laughed at her dry tone, the sound deep and dangerous and far too attractive for her peace of mind. “Will you at least explain why you’re doing this?” she asked.

  He dismissed her question with a shrug. Planting his hand at the base of her spine, he guided her in the direction of the kitchen. “You know why. Don’t play games with me, Princess.”

  “Games?” She turned on him in outrage. “Let me assure you I don’t consider any part of this a game.”

  Once in the kitchen, he pointed to one of two chairs tucked beneath a small butcher-block table that had been positioned beside a wide picture window. In the final glow of twilight, she could just make out a fenced garden overrun with flowers, weeds, and to one side, a collection of indeterminate vegetables.

  “Sit, Princess. It’s pointless to keep up this pretence of ignorance.”

  “I wish it were a pretence. I wish all of this was.”

  Feeling the rising panic, she took a deep breath, striving for calm. Pulling out the chair he’d indicated, she curled up in it, drawing her knees against her chest beneath the voluminous petticoats. Her pink-tipped toes peeked through the rips in her stockings and she studied the smudges of dirt marring them as she considered how best to get through to Merrick. If she didn’t get answers soon, she wouldn’t have the necessary information to plan her escape, an escape that—second by second—became increasingly more important if she were to save her mother.

  “Why does everyone keep calling me Princess Alyssa?” she asked. “I’m not a princess.”

  Merrick paused in the act of removing a selection of meats, cheeses and fruit from the refrigerator and turned to study her. “You’re Princess Alyssa, Duchess of Celestia.”

  “No. I’m Alyssa Sutherland, soon to be Assistant VP of Human Relations for Bank International.”

  He ignored her attempt at humor. “You left Verdonia when you were just over a year old.” He placed the selection of food in front of her, along with a crusty loaf of bread and several bottles of sparkling water. “Your mother, an American college student who’d met the prince while on vacation, married and divorced him in the span of two short years. A bit of a scandal at the time. Apparently living the life of a princess wasn’t the fairy tale she’d envisioned. After the divorce, she took you back to the United States, leaving your father and your older half brother behind.”

  Alyssa hesitated. “She told me some of that years ago. But my father wasn’t a prince anymore than I’m a princess.”

  “It would appear your mother neglected to mention a few pertinent details about your background.”

  For the first time a twinge of doubt assailed her. What had her mother said in the few minutes they’d been permitted to speak? She’d been incoherent, tearfully apologizing for tricking Alyssa into coming to Verdonia and for not finding a way to warn her about the mess she’d managed to entangle them in.

  There had also been something about how she’d fled the country twenty years earlier, never suspecting Alyssa would be expected to assume her brother’s responsibilities—a brother she hadn’t even known existed. The one thing that had been abundantly clear was that in order to keep her mother safe, Alyssa would have to marry Prince Brandt.

  She tried again. “Everyone thinks I’m a princess. I assure you, I’m not. This is all some hideous mistake.”

  He saluted her with a sardonic smile. “Am I supposed to believe your story and let you go? Good try, but it won’t work.”

  “No, I thought you’d realize that you have the wrong person and help me figure out what’s going on.” Her feet hit the floor with a small thud. “I’m telling you there’s been a mistake. I’m no more a princess than I am this Duchess of Celdonia.”

  “Celestia. Verdonia is the country, Celestia is one of her three principalities. And there’s no mistake.” He tilted his head to one side. “Fair warning, this tactic isn’t going to work.”

  “It’s not a tactic.” Frustration edged her words. “I don’t know what’s going on.”

  “Enough!”

  Something in the roughly stated word had her swallowing nervously. “Fine.” She waited a beat and then whispered, “He has my mother, Merrick. He’s holding her hostage. That’s why I agreed to marry him.”

  Merrick stifled a groan. It was her tone more than anything else that stopped him in his tracks; the soft, American-accented voice was filled with fear and anguish. He vaguely recalled her mentioning her mother while they were in the woods, but he’d assumed it had been another ploy to gain her release. He kept his expression implacable as he joined her at the table but inside he was filled with rage at von Folke’s ruthlessness. “Regrettable.”

  “I have to know what’s going on. Please.” Her mouth worked for a moment. “Can you explain it to me so I understand?”

  “Eat. You’ll need your strength.”

  He fought a brief inner battle while she picked at the meal he’d provided, weighing his belief that she was in on von Folke’s plan against the possibility that she was an innocent victim in all this. If she were telling the truth, it was only fair that he explain the situation. Honor demanded as much.

  He left her long enough to fetch a map from the great room. When he returned, he spread it across the table, anchoring the corners with the bottles of water. Next, he removed a fillet knife from a butcher block on the kitchen counter and after first slicing the duct tape binding her wrists so she had more freedom to eat, he used it to trace the outline of the country.

  “This is Verdonia. It’s divided into three principalities.”

  She studied it with all apparent interest as she massaged her wrists. “Where are we?”

  He shook his head. “Not a chance, Princess.”

  “In general. You said we were on the border of Celestia and…and—”

  He tapped the upper portion of the map. “We’re just inside the border of Avernos. Mountainous and riddled with amethyst mines. The gems provide the economic backbone of Verdonia. This principality’s ruled by von Folke.” He broke off a chunk of bread and ate it before shifting the knife downward to the very bottom of the map. “The most southern principality is Verdon, the financial heart of Verdonia.”

  She glanced at him. “And the principality in the middle?”

  He outlined the S-shaped bit of land that curled between the northern and southern principalities, cupping each in turn. “Celestia. Traditionally the artisans who work the amethyst have come from this principality. Until ten days ago, your half brother ruled here.”

  She leaned forward and was forced to shove a tumble of unruly curls behind one ear in order to get a better look. In the few hours since he’d first seen her, she’d been transformed from regal princess to rumpled seductress, both of whom appealed far more than he cared to admit. His awareness of her disturbed him. It was one thing to take her, but committing such a dishonorable act, even for honorable reasons, had been the most difficult decision he’d ever made. But to compound it by lusting after von Folke’s intended bride…. Touching her, making love to her…. Damn it to hell!

  He shoved a plate of cheese in her direction and didn’t say anythin
g further until she’d helped herself to some. She nibbled at it with a marked lack of enthusiasm before cracking the seal on one of the bottles of water. Tipping back her head, she took a long drink, unwittingly revealing the creamy line of skin that ran the length of her neck.

  The memory of how she’d looked in the forest earlier rose unbidden to his mind. She’d lay sprawled in a lush pocket of ripe grass and summer leaves, like a sacrifice to the heathen gods of old, the scent of her lightly perfumed skin mingling with the odor of rich, fertile soil. Dappled sunlight had gilded her creamy skin, while the mystery of womankind had gleamed in eyes the color of aquamarines, tempting him to plumb its many secrets. And he’d wanted her. Wanted her more than he’d wanted any other woman. If it hadn’t been for the church bells…

  His mouth tightened. He’d come close to sacrificing both honor and duty in that moment. Too close.

  She eyed him quizzically. “You haven’t explained what’s happened to my brother. How’s he involved in all this?”

  He didn’t see any benefit in withholding the information. “My sources inform me he was paid a lot of money by von Folke to abdicate his position,” he replied. “When that happened, the title fell to you. Where before you were Princess Alyssa, now you’re also duchess of Celestia. Or you will be once church and state make it official.”

  Alarm flashed across her face. “I don’t want the position.”

  “Don’t you?”

  He could tell his skepticism annoyed her, but she impressed him by holding onto her temper, though she spoke with a clipped edge to her voice. “Even assuming all of this is true, why would Prince Brandt have paid my brother to abdicate?”

  “Two weeks ago the king of Verdonia died.”

  “Oh. I’m sorry.” She hesitated briefly. “I don’t mean to sound crass, but what has his death got to do with any of this?”