Day Leclaire’s The Royals Bundle

by Day Leclaire

  “So you’ve chosen to leave this sort of lifestyle behind,” he managed with impressive lightness. “Or you have until now.”

  “Well…” He caught a hint of self-mockery. “It is a royal ball. What woman could resist indulging in that sort of fantasy for one night?”

  The dance ended and she stepped free of his embrace before he could prevent it. “Then allow me to make your night as special as possible.”

  His offer gave him the excuse to touch her again, to take her hand and gather her close. To put an unspoken stamp on her that read mine. He’d learned over the years how to throw up a protective wall on the rare instance he needed privacy, a subtle signal for others to keep their distance. Most recognized and obeyed, and this occasion proved no different.

  Of course it helped that his staff ran interference whenever he gave them that certain look. Footmen shifted their positions. Matrons were intercepted and their hopeful daughters distracted by accommodating friends. It all occurred with the beauty and timing of an intricate dance with no one, he hoped, the wiser—especially not the woman on his arm.

  A clear path opened to the buffet set up in an anteroom adjacent to the ballroom, and Lander headed in that direction. Helping himself to one of the fragile china plates embossed with the Montgomery family crest, he filled it with a selection of tidbits. He dipped a strawberry in the molten chocolate fountain and offered it to her. To his amusement, she bit into the strawberry, her eyes half closing as she savored the rich dark chocolate.

  “Come on. I know someplace private we can go to eat this.”

  Bypassing the scattering of linen-covered tables, Lander led Juliana through the open French doors to the gardens beyond. Subtle lighting glowed along the gravel walkways and in the trees and shrubbery. He hooked a sharp right onto a path that most overlooked.

  “You know your way around,” she observed.

  “I’ve been here once or twice before.”

  The path dead-ended at a small lattice-covered gazebo. Vines twined up the posts and across the top, dripping fat white rose blossoms. Their fragrant scent hung heavily in the air, ripe and eager to lend assistance to a scene set for seduction.

  Lander plucked one of the plumpest roses, and after thumbing off the thorns, threaded it behind her ear. He allowed the back of his hand to trail along her cheek and down the endless length of her neck. He was amazed at the softness of her skin, the color and texture putting the rose to shame. Even the scent of her rivaled the most potent flower.

  “How did you come to be here?” he demanded.

  “Does it matter?”

  “No. Right now it doesn’t matter in the least. Only one thing does.”

  He tossed aside the plate he carried. Neither of them were hungry, at least not for food. Sliding his hands up along the bare length of her arms, he dipped his fingers into the heavy mass of auburn curls and tugged her close. She came willingly, lifting her face to his.

  Night shadows turned her eyes black, the moonlight picking out the occasional glitter of gold that slipped past the darkness. Her heart thudded against his, tripping light and eager. A soft smile tilted her mouth and he wondered if her lips were as soft as her skin.

  His younger brother, Merrick, had been labeled the impulsive one in the family practically from the moment of his birth, with his stepsister, Miri, close but not quite as bad. Lander had always chosen a more disciplined route. Steady. In charge. He allowed little to sway or influence him.

  But he had only to look at Juliana to want with a ferocity beyond his control. He didn’t care that the Verdonian election to choose whether or not he’d be the next king was only months away. He didn’t care that the press had him beneath a microscope. He didn’t even care that in all likelihood the woman he held within his arms wouldn’t make an appropriate wife, let alone an appropriate queen. All that mattered was finding a way to carry her off to his bed and lose himself in the fiery heat of her.

  Taking his time, he lowered his head and captured her mouth. Lightly. Just a gentle sample. Just enough to test flavor and texture. But that was all it took. One taste and he was lost. His mouth returned to hers and her hands curled into his shirt, anchoring him in place. Not that he planned on going anywhere.

  The kiss seemed to change with each and every breath. First fast and impatient, two people discovering a new, irresistible sweet—and desperate to sate their craving of it. Then curious, each eager to explore every detail about the other. Next came slow and languid as they savored what they’d discovered, relishing the ability to please, before the want grew too strong, the urgency too powerful to deny. The kiss turned stormy again. Demanding. Pulsing. Hard and reckless. Robbing them of all thought. He heard her moan and inhaled the sound, reveling in the helpless sign of desire.

  With each passing minute, with every hungry, biting kiss, his need for her coalesced into one inescapable certainty. Once she found out who he really was, there would be hell to pay. But he didn’t care. It would be worth it. Because no matter what obstacles he had to overcome, no matter who stood in his way, this woman was his and he intended to have her.

  Two

  She was lost. Totally lost.

  Juliana opened her mouth to his and drank greedily, aware that if there had been a bed here in the middle of their private glade, she’d have been on her back, opening herself to this man, giving herself to someone she’d known less than an hour. The knowledge had her shuddering in a combination of disbelief and desire.

  His hands drifted from her hair to her shoulders before skating down the naked length of her spine. He cupped her hips, tugging her against him until she was locked tight against his pelvis. She struggled to think, to speak, to plead. But even that was beyond her. All she could do was moan her encouragement. His hands were large and hard and she wanted them on her, wanted them to touch her in the most intimate ways possible, just as she wanted to touch him.

  Impatient, she snagged his bow tie and ripped it from its mooring. The pearl studs holding his shirt closed scattered beneath her urgent fingers. And then finally, finally, she hit hot, masculine flesh. She ran her hands across his chest and downward over hard, rippled abs.

  He returned the favor, finding the crystal button at the nape of her neck and slipping it through its hole. The cap sleeves of her gown slid down her arms and he eased back, tracing the swell of her breasts above the corsetted bodice. Gently he slid the silk downward, baring her. They both stood motionless for a long moment. The only sound was the desperate harshness of their breathing. Moonlight silvered them, giving ripe flesh an unearthly glow. The scent of roses mingled with that of desire.

  “God, you’re beautiful,” he murmured.

  “I want you. As crazy as that sounds, I do.” She laughed unevenly. “Maybe it’s something in the air.”

  “Or maybe we were meant to be here, like this.”

  “Fate?”

  He shrugged. “It’s as good a reason as any.”

  As though unable to resist, he reached for her, tracing his fingertip down the swell of her breast to her nipple. His face remained taut and hungry, filled with a determination she found impossible to resist.

  It took two attempts before she could speak. “I don’t even know your name.” That simple fact both bewildered and excited.

  “We know this.” His hand cupped her breast and he leaned down to feather a kiss across the tip, eliciting another helpless moan. “This is all that matters.”

  She hovered between common sense and lust. She craved this man, craved his touch, his kisses, his body. It didn’t matter that she’d only met him a scant hour ago. It had only taken one look, one single touch, for her to be willing to compromise the values and mores she held most dear.

  She’d never done anything like this before nor wanted a man quite so desperately. Even with Stewart, with the man who’d ultimately betrayed her, she’d never come close to experiencing such a total rending of control. If she’d learned nothing else from her past, it had been to live
with the utmost caution. To keep rampant emotions in tight check. As a result, she’d turned logic and rationale into her own personal religion. And yet, here she stood, ready to dive headfirst into a fast-moving river leading straight over a waterfall. Not that she cared. This one man, along with this one moment in time, governed every thought and deed.

  “We can’t do anything here,” she felt compelled to protest. “Someone might find us.”

  “In that case we have two options. We can stop. Or we can take this somewhere else.” He made the suggestion without inflection. And though he continued to hold her, he didn’t use those clever hands to try and influence her decision. “It’s up to you.”

  He was offering her a clear-cut choice, an opportunity to back out while there was still time. But she’d already made that choice. There was only one option available to her. She lifted her arms and wrapped them around his neck. Finding his mouth with hers, she sank into the kiss, offering herself without saying a word. It was glorious. Delicious. A fantasy beyond compare. If this were a dream, she hoped never to awake. His arms offered a world she’d never known, but one that she wanted more than anything. A world of passion and seduction, and oddly enough, protection. If she were very lucky, this night would never end.

  She snatched a final kiss before pulling back. “I’d like to go somewhere else,” she said answering his question. The ease and simplicity of her response amazed her. How right it felt and how deliriously free she felt saying it. “I’d like to go with you very much.”

  With an exclamation of triumph, he swept her into his arms. She grinned up at him about to demand that he carry her off to his fairy-tale castle and have his wicked way with her, when the sound of someone clearing his throat came from the edge of the copse. Instantly her “prince” spun them around into shadow, putting his back to whomever had joined them. He lowered her to the ground, refastening her gown to conceal her nudity.

  “Bad timing, Lander?” a laughing voice asked.

  “Damn it, Joc. Two minutes more and we’d have been gone.”

  Juliana stiffened. No. Oh, please no. It couldn’t be. A single, swift glance confirmed her worst fears. She gave herself a few precious seconds to catch her breath while mustering what little poise she still retained. Circling the man Joc had referred to as Lander—and why did that name send a warning bell screaming though her fogged brain?—she stepped into a patch of moonlight.

  “Hello, Joc,” she greeted her brother.

  “Juliana?” He uttered her name in sharp disbelief.

  Lander’s gaze switched from one to the other, his eyes narrowing. “You two know each other?”

  “I work for Arnaud’s Angels,” she responded calmly, shooting her brother a look, warning that she didn’t want him to reveal their relationship. To her relief, he gave a subtle nod of understanding. “I didn’t realize Mr. Arnaud would be here tonight.”

  “No,” Joc murmured dryly. “Obviously, you didn’t.”

  “If you’ll excuse me…Lander, is it?” She knew that name. How did she know that name? If only she could think straight. “I’ll leave you two gentlemen to your business.”

  Joc lifted an eyebrow. “Don’t be rude, my dear. As a representative of Arnaud’s Angels you owe His Highness more respect than that. After all, he is your host.”

  Lander started to speak, but after making a sound of disgust, fell silent.

  Juliana stilled. “What are you talking about?” But deep down, she knew. His name had sounded familiar, and perhaps if she hadn’t been so drunk on kisses she’d have recognized it sooner.

  Joc released a bark of disbelieving laughter. “Didn’t you realize? The man you’ve been kissing is Prince Lander. Or to be more precise, Prince Lander Montgomery, Duke of Verdon. The Lion of Mt. Roche.”

  Oh, no. It couldn’t be. What wicked-humored fate had put her in the path of the one man she wanted most to avoid? And why hadn’t she figured it out sooner? How was it possible that the very first time she’d chosen to cut loose, she’d selected to do it with him? When it came to ignorant fools, she took top prize in both categories. Lifting her chin, she faced Prince Lander with what little remained of her tattered dignity.

  “How very amusing,” she said, her tone making it clear she was anything but amused. She swept him a deep, formal curtsey. “I’m delighted I could provide Your Highness with tonight’s entertainment.”

  “It wasn’t like that and you damn well know it.”

  She could hear the frustration underscoring his words, but didn’t care. He’d kept his identity from her for reasons of his own, even after she’d made it clear that she had no interest in meeting Prince Lander. Maybe he’d remained silent because she’d warned him that she’d run if she came across anyone of consequence. Otherwise, he’d have revealed his name if only in the hope that it would have her tumbling into his bed all that more quickly.

  More quickly? She almost groaned aloud. How much faster could she have tumbled? It had only taken him a brief hour to sweep her off her feet, and that was without pulling rank, as it were. Murmuring an excuse, she skirted her brother and returned to the palace. She hesitated in the shadows just beyond the spill of lights from the ballroom, struggling to regain her self-control.

  How could she have been so idiotic? How could she have let a man—even a prince—rob her of every ounce of intelligent thought? But from the moment she’d first seen him, she’d been utterly lost, willing to go anywhere he demanded, give anything he requested, do whatever he required. The knowledge ate at her. With one painful exception, she’d never allowed a man so much control over her. And yet in the space of a single hour, Prince Lander had not only demanded that control, but had been given it without a single word of protest. Had she learned nothing from her past? Clearly not.

  Taking a deep breath, she stepped into the light and headed across the ballroom, walking casually, if determinedly, toward the nearest exit. Before she’d taken more than a half-dozen steps, a hand landed on her shoulder, spinning her around.

  “I’m sure you don’t intend to leave without dancing with me,” Joc stated. Not giving her a chance to protest, he swung her onto the dance floor. “So, tell me…What’s a nice girl like you doing in a palace like this?”

  “Oh, ha-ha. The more interesting question is, what are you doing here?” Juliana retorted in a furious undertone.

  “Visiting you, of course.”

  Blithe and casual. Typical of him. But she wasn’t buying it for a minute. She knew that beneath that good-ol’-boy routine hid the soul of a brilliant, hard-as-nails businessman. Whatever reason Joc had for being here, it was neither blithe nor casual. “You came all the way to Verdonia just to visit me? Try again, big brother.”

  “Maybe I should ask what you’re doing with Prince Lander.”

  As usual, he’d turned the tables on her with annoying ease. She focused on the dance for a full minute before replying. “I didn’t know he was a prince.”

  “Or you’d never have been with him?”

  She hated the gentle concern in Joc’s voice almost as much as she hated the question. “Not a chance.”

  His breath escaped in a sigh. “Just as well. I wouldn’t want any sister of mine mixed up with a Montgomery.”

  Her head jerked up at that. “Why not?”

  “We have a…history.”

  “What sort of history?” she pressed.

  “That’s not important.”

  Impatience lined Joc’s face, warning her to drop the subject. It was a striking face, lean and golden, with the blood of their Comanche ancestors contributing to the impressive bone structure. Black eyes, black hair and what some would call a black heart completed the package, though she knew better. Joc was the kindest, most generous man alive. Unless crossed.

  “Explain something to me, Ana—”

  “Juliana,” she corrected. “I don’t use my nickname, anymore.”

  “And why is that?” he demanded. “Why don’t you want him to know who you ar
e? What does it matter if I tell him you’re Juliana Rose Arnaud, my sister, rather than Juliana Rose, charity worker? You won’t be seeing him again.” He waited a beat before pushing. “Will you?”

  “No.” But how she wanted to.

  Deep grooves formed on either side of his mouth. “It’s because you’re my sister, isn’t it? That’s why you only use your first and middle names these days. Because you’re afraid of the attention you’ll receive if anyone finds out you’re Ana Arnaud, sister to the infamous Joc Arnaud.”

  Tears filled her eyes and she blinked them back before lifting her gaze to his, praying that he wouldn’t be able to tell how close to the edge he’d pushed her. She lifted a hand to his cheek. “It’s not that. You know I love you. I’m proud to be your sister.”

  “Then what stopped you from telling Montgomery the truth?”

  She shivered at the coldness of the question…and the underlying hurt. “I haven’t told anyone. I want the focus to be on the charity, not on me. Now that I know Lander is a prince, it’s even more imperative that I remain silent. He’s in the public eye. If the media gets a whiff of our involvement, they’ll be all over us. I can’t handle that. Not again.” Not ever again. “Don’t you see? It’s not just what will happen to me. It’s not fair to throw Prince Lander to the wolves without any warning.”

  “Is that the only reason? Because if it is, I can take care of the media.”

  The hard look in Joc’s eyes worried her. There was another reason she couldn’t be with Prince Lander, but she didn’t dare mention it. It would only anger her brother. “I came to Verdonia to escape scandal, not stir up more. Besides, it isn’t like I’m seriously interested in Prince Lander.”

  “Liar.” He hesitated, no doubt torn between whatever history stood between the two men and his love for her. “I may not care much for your choice, but if you’re serious about him, I can fix things,” he offered grudgingly. “Though to be honest, I’d rather you kept your distance. I don’t trust the man. Not with you.”