by Maya Blake
Her heart lurched, a reminder of that meeting with his defence minister rising to the fore. ‘You really think they would use news of a child as a tool?’ she muttered.
His hand rose again, this time more commanding. ‘It’s not a scenario I’m willing to wait around for or risk discovering first-hand. You will stay here until we settle things between us.’
He wasn’t going to take no for an answer.
That much was evident in the watchful intensity in his eyes. But the suspicion that he wasn’t giving her the full picture and that she really couldn’t very well stay on the plane for ever forced her to toss aside covers she couldn’t remember pulling over herself and, ignoring his outstretched hand simply because she didn’t think she could withstand his touch on top of everything else, rose to her feet.
Her shoes were nowhere in sight, neither was her weekend bag.
Before she could demand their whereabouts, he reached for her, sweeping her smoothly into his arms.
She suppressed a gasp as he pressed her against his hard-muscled body, reminding her with sizzling efficiency of everything she’d tried to forget about his physical perfection. And failed. ‘Put me down. I’m quite capable of walking.’
‘Your things have been packed in the car, including your shoes. Unless you wish to burn your feet on the baking asphalt outside, I’m your ride.’
There was no use arguing because he was already striding out of the plane.
If it hadn’t been the height of absurd childishness, she would have squeezed her eyes shut and pretended he didn’t exist.
But he did exist.
He was a solid unshakeable presence in her life, intent on...
What were Zak’s true intentions besides the excuses he’d tossed at her? And why couldn’t she stop the rush of awareness at being pressed so tightly against him?
Violet took a keener interest in her surroundings, eagerly wishing for anything to dissipate his effect on her. But even her surroundings were intent on assaulting her senses with an overload of beauty.
Tall palm trees swayed in the distance, a carpet of lush greenery extending left and right of the long runway as far as the eye could see. What she knew of private Caribbean islands was that they were compact, easily traversable from one end to the other.
Not this one, of course.
Several minutes after Zak had placed her in the front seat of a gleaming SUV and slid behind the wheel, they were still nowhere near their destination. Sunglasses shielded his expression from her and, apparently deciding to take a leaf from her book, he’d lapsed into silence once they were in the car.
Behind them, two more SUVs followed, one containing his bodyguards and the other with a boot full of luggage, triggering the suspicion that Zak intended to remain here for a while. It was that thought that triggered her speech.
‘How long do you expect this theatre to play out?’
He slanted a glance at her. ‘Theatre?’
She waved her hand at the scenery. ‘You say you’re trying to protect your family from the scandal you think my announcement will bring. But we could’ve had this conversation anywhere. Instead, you’ve brought me here to yet another symbol of your status. To what? Drive home the fact that I’m a mere commoner? You want to put me in my place, is that it?’
‘Yes. All of the above,’ he replied drily.
So drily, she couldn’t decipher whether he was serious or joking. Then she called herself ten kinds of fool for thinking he would deny the accusation.
‘I also intend to limit your access to the outside world, at least until we have a few things straightened out between us.’
‘There’s nothing to straighten out. I’m pregnant. I’m having a baby. End of.’
She wasn’t aware of the full extent of his tension until his grip visibly relaxed on the steering wheel. ‘I believe we’ve just settled the first thing to my satisfaction.’
About to frown, her jaw dropped as she stared at him. ‘You brought me here suspecting that I wasn’t going to go through with this pregnancy?’
One shoulder lifted in an eloquent shrug.
‘Establishing there’s a pregnancy and telling a father of his child’s existence doesn’t automatically mean the state is willingly accepted. Not yet, anyway.’
‘What other reason could I...?’ She froze, then gasped again, growing a little light-headed as his meaning sank in. ‘You believe I told you about the pregnancy to leverage it? For what?’
‘Off the top of my head? Everything you’ve ever desired since you were old enough to desire it. But your outrage is duly noted. As is your protectiveness.’
The last bit was uttered in a gruff voice, his gaze dropping to where her hand had somehow found itself over her belly again.
This time she didn’t drop it or attempt to disguise the action. They were alone, and really she was done being the soul of discretion about the child she carried. Zak had brought her here just so she’d be out of the public eye. She wasn’t about to deny her child’s existence.
She was still absorbing the twisted cynicism that informed his every action when they crested a low hill.
The white, sprawling plantation style house sat on top of another hill, surrounded on either side by tall swaying palm trees. And sloping away on either side, lush grass rolled away several hundred feet before turning into the white sand of a pristine beach.
All that perfection was set against a backdrop of a sparkling sea that couldn’t have more stunning if it had been drawn by the world’s most talented artist.
As prisons went, it was magnificent enough to snatch her breath from her lungs. On any other occasion, Violet wouldn’t have stopped herself from vocalising her appreciation.
But this wasn’t any other occasion. She’d been brought here for the sole purpose of being kept away from the world, a problematic stain that Prince Zakary Montegova had yet to decide what to do with.
The stony ache in her chest bruised her but she managed, barely, to hang onto her composure. She’d displayed far too many weaknesses in his presence already. The even bigger battle was ahead of her, so she had to keep her wits about her. Remain calm in the face of his highhandedness.
And find a way off this gilded paradise as soon as possible.
The moment the car drew to a stop, she reached for the door handle.
‘Violet, wait—’
She ignored his growled instruction. And stepped out onto baking paving stones.
With a yelp, she sprinted towards the front door of the mansion, fleeing the suppressed curse that sounded behind her and Zak’s quick strides as he chased her down.
So much for maintaining her composure.
The doors opened smoothly and Violet skidded to a halt, her face flaming as she caught the stares of a dozen uniformed men and women who comprised the household staff.
A few glances at her attire reminded her that she was still in the gown she’d worn to Remi’s wedding. Despite the air-conditioned interior, the heavy silk stuck to her skin, the short train dragging and out of place in this place where shorts and bikinis were the norm.
With her feet bare and her hair in disarray, she knew she looked a sight. Nevertheless, she plastered on a tentative smile as Zak sauntered to a stop beside her.
In deep languid tones, he made introductions, the amusement in his voice as he introduced her as Lady Violet Barringhall setting her teeth on edge.
There was nothing ladylike about her appearance. And it was all his fault. Once the majority of the staff had dispersed, they were left with the head butler.
‘We’ll take refreshments in the living room, Patrick,’ Zak said, and then he caught hold of her wrist.
Violet went along with him simply because she didn’t want to give an even worse impression of herself in front of his staff. The moment they were alone, she wrenched herself f
rom his grasp.
‘We can finish this thing now. I’m sure it’ll only take a few minutes. Then you can get me off this island.’
He waved a hand at one exquisite striped sofa. ‘Sit down, Violet.’
‘I’m getting tired of you ordering me about, Zak.’
‘You’re a guest in my house and I’m offering you due courtesy.’
‘I’m not a guest. I’m your prisoner. Let’s get at least one thing straight.’
His face tightened. ‘Very well. If you think yourself a prisoner then you should be aware of a few things. There is no way off the island except by boat or air, both of which are under my strict command. Attempt to solicit help from the staff and you will merely be embarrassing yourself. Is that clear?’
She swallowed a knot of disappointment.
He raised an eyebrow. ‘Did I just shatter your dreams?’
She forced a laugh. ‘Don’t flatter yourself.’
For a second, a bewildered look chased across his face but it was extinguished just as quickly. ‘Would you like a tour of the property? Most people are content with being in the lap of luxury. Perhaps you’ll change your mind after you’ve seen the place properly?’
‘If you wanted me to view this place as anything but a prison, you should’ve tried inviting me instead of kidnapping me.’
‘Would you have come?’
The question was so unexpected it left her speechless for a moment. Would she have dropped everything to spend time with Zak on his island paradise? When self-preservation alone dictated that she stay as far away from him as possible? ‘No.’
His nostrils flared briefly. ‘Then I have my answer.’
‘For someone so hell-bent on safeguarding your family’s reputation, don’t you think this is merely compounding it? What’s to stop me from going straight to the tabloids and reporting you to the authorities once you set me free? Or do you intend to keep me here for ever?’
‘Now, there’s a thought,’ he drawled.
The notion that he would even consider such a thing had her stalking over to where he lounged in the chair, master and commander of all he surveyed. ‘This isn’t funny, Zak.’
‘I’m most definitely not laughing. Sit down, Violet,’ he invited silkily, but with an edge to his voice that sent a shiver over her skin.
Because close proximity to Zak was a bad idea, and because she needed to gain some much-needed solid ground, she retreated to the farthest seat from him and sat down just as the butler entered, bearing a tray of drinks.
She accepted a glass of fruit punch, only realising how thirsty she was after the first sip. She set the glass down with a resolute click. ‘How long do you intend to keep me here?’
‘That depends.’
‘On what?’
‘On how agreeable you are to my terms.’
‘What terms?’
Dark grey eyes locked on hers.
‘No child, besides Jules, has been born out of wedlock in Montegovan royal history. And I’m sure you know the circumstances surrounding how my half-brother arrived in my family.’
‘I only know what I read in the tabloids. So unless you’re claiming those allegations weren’t true?’
‘For the most part, si, they were true,’ he stated tightly, his voice discouraging further interest.
It was clear this was a subject Zak didn’t like discussing. ‘Okay, but what does that have to do with the child I’m carrying?’
He regarded her with unwavering intent. ‘What do you think, Violet?’
Suspecting what was coming, she reeled in disbelief and shock. ‘Whatever it is, the answer is no.’
One eyebrow lifted. ‘I haven’t even asked you yet.’
‘No,’ she repeated.
‘Yes, Violet. I bear responsibility for the lack of protection when we had sex, but you also assured me that there was no risk of pregnancy. But what’s done is done. While I’m curious to know why your contraception failed, it’s immaterial at this point. You’re carrying my child and I intend to claim it.’
A handful of words with consequences that stretched far into her future. She folded her hands tightly in her lap to disguise their trembling. ‘What exactly does that mean?’
‘It means my child will bear my name, be brought up in Montegova under my care, take pride in his or her heritage, be afforded every privilege and welcome the responsibilities every royal Montegovan is due. And all of that will come about if his birth comes with the benefit of true legitimacy. Which is why the only sensible recourse is for you to marry me.’
* * *
Contrary to the near hysteria that had threatened to overwhelm her mere moments ago, an eerie sense of calm settled over Violet once he’d said the actual words.
‘No,’ she stated once again, thrilled when her voice emerged firm and solid.
Shock flashed crossed his face. Then his eyes narrowed. ‘No? That’s all you have to say? No?’
‘Pardon me, where are my manners? No, thank you,’ she amended, secretly thrilled when he immediately looked...perturbed again.
‘Perhaps you didn’t hear me properly. I want you to marry me, Violet. You will have the title of Princess, wealth beyond your wildest imagination, and, if you wish it a place in my trust to continue your career.’
Marry me.
Her heart lurched as those two words, contrary to everything she’d believed of herself and her future path, making her waver for a moment as she was inundated with might-have-beens. Her fingers bunched tighter. ‘I heard you, loud and clear. And you heard my answer.’
For a full minute Zak stared at her, his gaze unashamedly probing, seeming to delve beneath her skin. Then he eased back in his seat, his face turning alarmingly neutral.
She wasn’t fooled for a second by the arm he raised to rest on the back of his sofa, or the legs he casually crossed.
‘It’s been an...unsettling twenty-four hours. Perhaps you would like some time to consider all this?’ he suggested.
She summoned a small, hopefully dismissive smile. ‘What, the fragile little lady needs some time to wrap her head around everything that’s happening to her? Isn’t that just typical of your sort?’
One eyebrow elevated. And was that a tic going in his jaw? ‘My sort?’
‘Half-decent-looking men of means who believe all they need to do is crook their finger at a woman to have her swooning at their feet.’
‘Since I have first-hand evidence that you’ve never been intimately acquainted with any other man, even my sort, I’ll assume this is a sweeping generalisation?’
Her pretended calm threatened to evaporate as a warm flush consumed her face. Still, she managed a shrug. ‘Are you sure you can trust this evidence? For all you know, I could’ve been living it up in New York while you were...wherever you decided to swan off to.’
The tic intensified and the look he sent her was anything but neutral. It thrummed with volcanic fury. ‘I was in Australia. And for your sake, I hope you’re merely attempting to get a rise out of me.’
‘What if I am? Will that earn me a quick exit off this island?’ she countered.
His face tightened and she could’ve sworn his stomach muscles clenched hard. ‘It won’t, but confirmation of a dalliance with another man while you carry my child will definitely not sit well. Did you?’ he enquired with smooth, silky lethality.
Violet held his gaze in bold silence for a handful of seconds before the denial erupted from her throat. ‘No, I didn’t. But I assure you, I won’t be a well-behaved little prisoner if you insist on keeping me here. In fact, I’m certain you will regret it if you don’t put me back on that plane immediately.’
A layer of that ferocious tension eased from his frame as he took a slow, controlled breath, that regal head cocked mockingly. ‘We have time. Please, enlighten me as to how you plan to make
my life difficult.’
And allow him to use that shrewd steel trap of a mind to counter her strategy? Not likely. ‘Don’t worry, you’ll find out soon enough if you insist on pursuing this absurd caper. And it’s not just me you’ll have to contend with, you know. Did you stop to think about how my mother would take my disappearance at all? Do you think she’s going to just sit by and allow you to kidnap her daughter?’
Without the slightest hint of unease, he shrugged. ‘I’m confident I can handle your mother. Next.’
Unfortunately, Violet believed him. She suspected he could have her mother eating out of his hand with minimum effort.
Her heart clenched with that shame she’d never managed to shrug off when it came to her mother’s blatantly grasping antics. Heck, she was fairly certain Zak would receive a resounding endorsement of this kidnapping from her mother if it meant she could brag about it ad nauseam at future dinner parties.
As for the discovery that Violet was pregnant, it was why she’d guarded her new state with feverish zeal. Why she intended to keep it under wraps for as long as possible. Her mother’s discovery that she carried the next Montegovan royal would see her thrust into the sort of limelight her mother adored but Violet desperately abhorred.
Nevertheless, she couldn’t keep this a secret for ever. Neither could she avoid her mother for ever.
And it certainly didn’t mean she wanted to be kept here against her will, regardless of how stunning this prison was. She pursed her lips. ‘How about your staff? You employ the type of people who condone kidnapping, do you?’ she taunted.
‘Their loyalty is absolute and faultless or they wouldn’t be here,’ he stated, his voice deep, firm and completely unfazed by her cold accusations.
About to challenge him some more, she froze for a moment, unsure why until the distant rumble of aircraft engines had her surging to her feet. She rushed to the French doors in time to see the jet rising gracefully into the sky, its wings glinting in the dappling sunlight.