Contract Wedding, Expectant Bride

by Yvonne Lindsay

  Rocco looked at Ottavia.

  “The timing of this is—”

  “Unfortunate,” Ottavia inserted smoothly. “But I understand you need to go. Now go, get ready.”

  In the bedroom, Ottavia curled up on the bed and watched as he entered his dressing room and selected a suit and tie. The lamp’s light drew his eye to the shadowy curve of breast, revealed by the gossamer-thin material, and the sight of her punched longing deep in his gut. He wanted nothing more than to join her in that bed and show her just how much she meant to him, but he daren’t give in to the compulsion. His duty to his people came first. When he returned he would make it up to her. In his pocket, his cell phone buzzed discreetly and he answered the incoming call.

  “The helicopter is ready for you, Sire,” Sonja informed him.

  After thanking her, he hung up.

  “I will be back as soon as possible. On my return, we need to talk,” he said firmly.

  Not trusting himself to be able to pull away if he kissed her, he strode out of the bedroom.

  Thirteen

  Fifteen minutes later, Ottavia watched through the window as Rocco’s helicopter lifted from the helipad and circled the palace once before flying toward the capitol. Weariness dragged at her body. The night they’d spent together, on top of the nightmare and then telling Rocco of her past had all taken a toll. And then there was the confusion she felt over his behavior after Sonja had interrupted them. He’d been so distant, so abrupt. He’d barely looked at her.

  Maybe she was reading too much into his behavior. After all, he’d just received more bad news, he would hardly have been jumping for joy. But deep down she felt that something had changed between them.

  Her stomach growled. She supposed she ought to eat something but the idea of eating right now held no appeal. Ottavia took her time dressing before heading down one floor to the library where she’d spent much of her time since she was captive here. Settling herself on the cushions of one of the broad window seats, she started to read a novel she’d picked up a few weeks ago, but within minutes she was asleep. She woke several hours later to the unmistakable footsteps of Sonja Novak approaching her across the parquet floor.

  “Can I help you?” she asked, rising to her feet.

  “The king has called and asked if you could undertake a special project for him.”

  “He has?”

  “Yes, there is a dinner this evening here at the castle. The king has given instructions that you are to act as hostess. General Novak will be assisting you.”

  Ottavia’s stomach pitched. “General Novak?”

  Sonja nodded. “In His Majesty’s absence, Andrej is the ideal choice. He is familiar with General Vollaro, the Sylvano leader of their armed forces. The general and his wife, Rosina, have been invited here in a public gesture of goodwill between our two nations. King Rocco specifically requested you be there to entertain Rosina Vollaro. She’s shy and inclined to drink too much when her husband’s attention is occupied elsewhere.”

  “So I’m to babysit this woman while the men discuss business?”

  Sonja raised a brow at Ottavia’s tone. “I know you are more accustomed to mixing with men in a social context but I’m sure, with your many talents and vast experience, you can adjust.”

  As compliments went that one was about as backhanded as they came, Ottavia thought.

  “What time must I be ready?”

  “General Novak will meet you downstairs in the small salon at seven sharp. Do not keep him waiting. And, please, dress conservatively.” Sonja looked her up and down in distaste. “If you are capable of such a thing.”

  She was gone as quickly as she’d arrived and her visit left Ottavia feeling distinctly unsettled. General Novak. A shudder of distaste rippled through her. If it had been anyone but Rocco making this request of her she would have refused. Still, she reminded herself, it was probably a good example of the types of tasks she’d be expected to perform once she and Rocco were married. Acting as his hostess tonight was the least she could do for him.

  The only shadow she could see looming was having to spend time with Andrej Novak. But it was a small enough thing, wasn’t it, she tried to convince herself. A few hours at most. And Rocco trusted the man implicitly, so she had no reason not to afford him her courtesy, even if she couldn’t quite give him her trust. And yet, as she readied herself later that day, she couldn’t help but feel a sense of trepidation over what the evening would bring.

  * * *

  She’d been right to be concerned. Andrej Novak had a real problem with keeping his hands to himself and Ottavia struggled to keep a civil smile on her face as they greeted the Sylvano guests on their arrival. As the couple was shown into the small salon, Ottavia took the opportunity to step forward from the general’s restraining arm on hers to welcome the newcomers and to invite them to indulge in an aperitif on the terrace.

  After initial introductions, Rosina Vollaro and her husband drifted outside to enjoy their drinks in the evening sun. Ottavia was about to join them when Novak sidled up behind her.

  “Don’t think I’m not on to you,” he whispered in her ear.

  “I beg your pardon?” Ottavia replied, taking a step away but finding her movement blocked by his body.

  “Playing hard to get is attractive from time to time, but let’s face it. We both know what you’re just lining me up for when Rocco ditches you.”

  This time she managed to create some space between them. She injected as much ice into her voice as she could when she replied.

  “I’m here at His Majesty’s request. Do not speak to me in this manner.”

  “Or what? You’ll tell him?” The general laughed and it wasn’t a pleasant sound.

  “If necessary,” she answered haughtily.

  “You forget,” he sneered. “You are merely a transient being in his world. Here today, gone tomorrow.”

  But that was where he was wrong. She wasn’t transient at all. She was to be Rocco’s bride, but that news was not hers to share, not without Rocco’s authorization.

  “Our guests—” she started, but Andrej Novak interrupted her.

  “Are busily admiring the roses outside.”

  She cast a glance out the door—saw their guests standing by the profuse blooms of the potted Pierre de Ronsard rosebushes, reminding her that Rocco had left her a perfect bloom each morning until today.

  “Don’t think you can hold yourself above me, courtesan.” He said the last word with disgust. “Our king already tires of you.”

  “That’s not true!” she exclaimed.

  “On his way to the helipad, he told me you were soiled goods.”

  A rush of icy shock drenched her, making her skin crawl. Surely Rocco hadn’t told this creature her deepest, darkest secret.

  Novak continued, a self-satisfied expression on his face. “He keeps no secrets from me. We...share everything.”

  His emphasis on the word share hadn’t escaped her notice.

  “I am no part of that,” she said vehemently.

  He laughed again.

  “He didn’t have to leave the castle today. You know that, don’t you? It’s just that he couldn’t bear to be with you a moment longer after you spilled the truth about your sordid little life to him.”

  “That’s not true!” she blurted out.

  “Isn’t it?” He took a sip of his drink and then nodded in the direction of the terrace. “Go, you’re here to work. Now work.”

  Ottavia didn’t know how she managed to get through the evening but somehow she did it. She couldn’t believe that Rocco had divulged her past to this vile man. Or to anyone, for that matter. She thought back to this morning. Tried to analyze his demeanor. Sure, he’d been withdrawn after she’d told her story and, yes, he’d seemed angry, as well
. She’d assumed his reaction was due to shock, and perhaps that he’d even been angry on her behalf, but maybe there really had been something more. After all, he hadn’t wanted her to accompany him—had even cut her off when she had been about to mention their engagement. And he’d left without even kissing her. Did that mean the general was right?

  She felt brittle, as if the merest touch would be her undoing and she’d fracture into tiny pieces. She desperately needed space. The moment their guests left, Ottavia fled for Rocco’s chambers, closing the door behind her and dragging in one breath after another.

  She started when a knock came at the door and someone tried the handle.

  “Who is it?” she called, even though her gut told her exactly who was on the other side.

  “We need to talk,” Novak replied, his voice hard as steel. “Let me in.”

  “No, I’m tired.”

  “That’s a shame. I have a message for you from your king and I’m not about to deliver it through a wooden door.”

  Reluctantly Ottavia opened the door. “Tell me then,” she said, holding the door and ready to shove it closed the moment he’d delivered his message.

  To her horror, Novak pushed the door open and stepped inside. He gave her a smile that made her stomach clench.

  “Please, give me the message and leave.”

  “I don’t think so.” He came closer and bent forward, inhaling the air near her. “Your scent, it’s quite intoxicating.”

  Ottavia closed her eyes briefly and held her ground. “What did His Majesty want to tell me?” she said through gritted teeth.

  “Oh, that he isn’t returning tonight,” Novak said flippantly before reaching out to twirl a tendril of her hair around one finger. “I guess that means you’ll have to make do with me, yes?”

  “No!”

  Ottavia lurched away, felt the painful tug of her scalp as her hair caught in his fingers before releasing.

  “He said I could have you.”

  “He wouldn’t!” she said desperately.

  “Oh, you think not? Hmm, I wonder...” Novak circled her like a hungry wolf. “Does he know about Adriana?”

  Ottavia’s eyes flew wide open. “What about her?”

  A smug expression filled Novak’s face. “I see he doesn’t. It would be a shame, don’t you think, for her to be removed from her private institution and placed in a government-run one.”

  “That will never happen. I pay for her to be where she is.”

  “And should your funds suddenly dry up? What then?”

  “You don’t have that power,” she refuted.

  “Don’t I? It’s a terrible thing when a person’s bank details are hacked.” He paused to let his words sink in. She knew that her investments were safe. They were handled by a former client who had remained a close friend. The general was overestimating his power and influence if he thought he could wipe out her assets without anyone interfering. But even though she knew that logically, she couldn’t fight the instinctive fear at the thought of Adriana in harm’s way.

  “Remember what I told you, dear Ottavia. I see everything. I know everything there is to know about you—and Adriana. I can ensure she remains safe. All you have to do is one small thing.”

  She didn’t want to ask what it was. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. When she didn’t answer he reached for her and pulled her close to him, his hand tangling in her hair and pulling her head back.

  “Not curious as to what it is, courtesan?”

  She’d always been proud of what she did but the way he said courtesan made her feel sick to her stomach.

  He sneered lasciviously. “I see I’ll have to tell you.”

  And he did—in awful, explicit detail. She’d originally thought Andrej Novak had to have some level of decency in him. After all, he was Rocco’s childhood friend. And hadn’t he taken a bullet to protect the princess from harm less than a month ago? Or perhaps he hid his harsh and sadistic side behind a mask of duty to his king. Bile rose in her throat and she forced herself to swallow it down.

  “I won’t do it. My contract is with King Rocco.”

  “You will, or your precious Adriana will suffer. How old is she again? Oh, yes—fourteen—the same age as you when—”

  “No! You can’t!” she cried in horror.

  What he was suggesting was an abomination. She’d spent years doing whatever she could to protect Adriana. She’d give her life before she’d let anyone harm her. But Novak wasn’t asking for Ottavia’s life. He wanted her. She’d endured worse, she told herself, and survived. But Adriana wouldn’t. Did she really believe he’d be able to get access to Adriana, especially if Ottavia rallied all her resources to protect her. No...probably not. But she couldn’t be sure. Her resistance crumbled.

  “Fine,” she spat. “Let me go.”

  “Let you go?”

  “I need to prepare.”

  “Is that what you call it? Perhaps you could start by pouring me a drink.”

  “Let me change first,” Ottavia insisted.

  “This should be interesting. By all means,” he answered with a flourish of his hand. “Change, although I don’t see the necessity myself. You’ll be naked and willing beneath me soon enough.”

  Willing? Never, she swore under her breath as she retreated swiftly to the main bedroom. She grabbed a nightgown and robe, hastened to the bathroom and locked the door behind her. Did she dare remain here? Refuse to come out? No, she couldn’t. It was Adriana’s safety that was at risk.

  She peeled out of the gown she’d worn this evening, the same forest green one she’d worn the night of the reception for the princesses, and slipped into her nightwear. When she managed to force her mind away from the ordeal she was about to endure, it circled back to her horror at the idea that Rocco had told the general of her confession this morning. Had the tension she’d felt in his body as she’d told her story been repugnance toward her? Was it true that he no longer wanted her? If so, she would have preferred he’d ended their contract there and then, than hand her off as if she had no further value.

  Ottavia blinked back the tears that burned in her eyes. She’d been a fool. All her life she’d told herself she would never trust a man, never fall in love—and what had she done? The exact opposite. Well, she’d learned her lesson.

  She stared at her things on the countertop, her eyes alighting on the vial of sleeping pills she carried with her everywhere but so rarely used. An idea sprang to mind.

  How many would it take to render Novak senseless? she wondered. They were fast-acting but he was a big man, strong and heavily muscled. Not unlike Rocco in build, or in looks, she realized, but thicker set. One tablet would barely skim the surface, but she knew that if mixed with alcohol their effect would be heightened. Her fingers were untwisting the lid off the vial even as the idea expanded in her mind. In a second two white pills lay in her palm. Now, all she needed to do was somehow get him to take them.

  She would play seductress, coax him into having another drink, or two. And then, she would wait.

  * * *

  The man had the constitution of an ox, Ottavia thought in disgust as Novak stumbled with her in his arms while they danced awkwardly around the sitting room. She’d managed to crush the pills into his first drink, which should have knocked him out cold by now.

  “Enough of this dancing,” he said thickly. “Let’s get down to business.”

  “If you so wish,” she murmured in return, but even so her stomach turned. She couldn’t go through with this. Making love with Rocco had been a different thing altogether to what Novak had proposed doing with—no, she thought vehemently, to her because she would never, ever be a willing party to this.

  His feet dragged as he maneuvered her down the hall to Rocco’s bedroom where he pushed her down on
to the bed. He swiftly disrobed, throwing his clothing carelessly to the floor. His erection was thick and heavy and she felt her entire body shrink with loathing and fear as he stroked himself. She averted her eyes.

  “What’s the matter, courtesan?” he asked harshly. “Don’t you like what you see?”

  He lurched forward, clumsily landing on top of her, his body pinning her even as his hands ripped her nightgown from neck to hem, exposing her. He reached for her breasts—hungrily pinching and squeezing.

  “You’re going to like what we’re going to do next,” he slurred.

  Ottavia swallowed the scream that rose in her throat. What was the point in crying out? No one would hear her, anyway. Somehow she’d survive this, she told herself, fighting back the fear that threatened to paralyze her. Suddenly she felt a spark of hope. Novak’s eyes began to roll back in his head and his eyelids finally started to slide closed. Once he was unconscious, all she’d have to do was push him off her and she’d be free.

  In a sudden rush of breath, he was unconscious. But his full body weight collapsed upon her and held her captive. She could barely breathe and struggled to get loose from underneath him, all to no avail.

  A sound at the door penetrated the silence of the room and Ottavia’s eyes riveted on the wooden panel as it slowly swung open.

  “Rocco!”

  Fourteen

  Rocco took in the situation at a glance and was instantly sickened by the sight that greeted him. Behind him, he felt Sonja Novak push past and enter the room.

  “I was afraid of this. I should have warned you, Sire,” she started. “Ever since the reception, she’s been flirting with Andrej. I’m so sorry you had to find out this way.”

  Rocco strode across the room and with an almighty heave pulled Andrej’s naked form off Ottavia who, white-faced, scrambled to pull her ruined nightgown around her. Rocco couldn’t tear his eyes from her, couldn’t stop the overwhelming sense that he’d been taken for a fool. Anger rose, hot and swift.

  Ottavia struggled to her feet. “It’s a lie. She set me up. Her and—” A look of loathing crossed her features as she looked at the naked man unconscious at her feet. “That man. He told me you didn’t want me anymore, after what I told you this morning. That you’d given me to him. How could you?”