Not Fit for a King?

by Jane Porter

  Zale unpacked the lunch hamper in silence and Hannah was good with that. She didn’t think she could make small talk, not when her emotions felt so wild. How could she be falling for Zale this hard? How could she want him this much, even when she knew he belonged to Emmeline?

  Her conscience felt stricken and yet there was something else primal fighting with her guilt.

  Need.

  Desire.

  And the desire was so foreign to her. She never wanted a man like this. Hadn’t needed a man in years.

  “I’ll let you help yourself,” Zale said, handing her a plate.

  Hannah looked at all the food Zale’s chef had sent—roast chicken, baguettes, cheeses, potato salad, beet salad, fruit and more—but her appetite was nonexistent.

  “Would you have regretted making love?” she asked abruptly, looking across at him.

  Zale sighed. “You have an amazing body and I’d have no problem taking you, exploring you. But … considering there are still serious decisions to be made, I don’t think we can just jump into bed.”

  “So you’re still trying to make up your mind about me.”

  He hesitated, then nodded.

  Hannah clenched her hands together. “Forgetting the past, what worries you most about me?”

  He looked off into the distance, his narrowed gaze fixed on a distant point out at sea and then his shoulders shifted. “You’re just so different, Emmeline. You’re not the woman I thought I was marrying. And I don’t understand what’s changed.”

  Hannah’s heart sank. “You don’t like … me?”

  “No, I do like you. I very much like the woman that is here on the beach right now. You’re smart, playful, confident and sexy. But that wasn’t the woman I proposed to a year ago. And that concerns me. People don’t change this much. Not at our age.”

  “Would you feel better if I was more like the old me?”

  “Maybe. Probably. I’d at least be on familiar ground.”

  Hannah mustered a smile even though she felt like crying. “Then I’ll work on getting the old me back. Hopefully it won’t take long.”

  They returned to the palace midafternoon after more swimming and sunbathing but there was tension between them and Hannah felt the strain. She was glad when the helicopter arrived to take them back to the palace and told herself she was glad when Zale let her walk away from him and return to her suite of rooms.

  She wasn’t glad, though.

  She didn’t want to be alone in her rooms. She wanted to be with him. Wanted what they’d had for a moment on the beach—tenderness, closeness, passion.

  Hannah paced her living room absolutely desperate. She’d agreed to play pretend and it was killing her. She wanted to tell Zale who she was, wanted him to know the truth about her, but she knew once she told him, she’d lose him altogether.

  It wasn’t fair that the one man she wanted most in the world was the one man she couldn’t have.

  If only she really was Emmeline d’Arcy. If only she could be the princess he needed.

  A soft, muffled sound reached her and Hannah paused in the middle of her suite to listen.

  There it was again, a low cry—part whimper, part moan—and it sounded as though it were coming from her adjoining bedroom.

  Hannah stiffened, her skin prickling. She was about to call for the palace guard when she heard the word Mari, Raguvian for Mama.

  And then again.

  Someone was crying for his mother.

  Timidly she went to her bedroom door and pushed it slightly open. Light spilled into the dark bedroom. She could hear the sound of crying more clearly.

  Mama, Mama.

  Hannah pushed the door all the way open and the light from the living room illuminated the bedroom. She could see all the way across the large room. And although the far corners remained shadowy, she saw a figure in one sitting on the floor, hunched over.

  The figure rocked in the corner. “Mama?” he said, slowly lifting his head.

  It was a child’s voice coming from an adult body, and Hannah knew immediately who was it was. Dark brown hair, sloped shoulders, knees bent and held tightly against his body.

  Prince Constantine.

  “Tinny?” she whispered, not wanting to startle him.

  He scrubbed his face with his forearm and looked at her hopefully. “Mama, home?”

  For a moment Hannah couldn’t breathe and her eyes burned with tears. She slowly crouched down in the doorway. “No, my love, your mama isn’t home.” And suddenly her heart felt as if it would break. Mothers needed their children. Children needed their mothers. But it didn’t always work out that way. “Do you want to find Zale? I bet he’d like to see you.”

  “Zale,” Tinny said. “My brother.”

  “That’s right. Let’s find Zale, shall we?”

  Hannah called for a footman, and the footman summoned Mrs. Sivka since His Majesty couldn’t be located.

  Hannah was sitting with Tinny on the love seat in her living room looking at pictures in a magazine with him when a knock sounded on her door.

  Hannah opened the door to a short, round woman in her late seventies. “Forgive me for intruding, Your Royal Highness, but I understand my missing boy is here.”

  “Yes, I found Prince Constantine in my bedroom.” Hannah opened the door wider, inviting the woman in. “Although I don’t know why he was there.”

  “These are the Queen’s Chambers, Your Highness.”

  Hannah stared blankly at the elderly woman before it hit her. This was his mother’s room. The prince came here looking for her. “He still misses her.”

  The woman smiled sadly. “He doesn’t understand why she hasn’t come back.”

  “He knows Zale, though—” Hannah broke off, corrected herself. “His Majesty. We talked about him.”

  “Prince Constantine adores his big brother.” The elderly woman looked at Hannah closely. “And I’m sure you hear this often, Your Highness, but you’re the spitting image of your mother.”

  Hannah’s breath caught in her throat. “How do you know?”

  “I knew her.” She frowned. “My goodness, I don’t think I even introduced myself. I am Mrs. Sivka. I’m His Majesty’s nanny.”

  “His Majesty? Zale Patek?”

  “The very same. I took care of all the Patek princes as babies, and am back again taking care of Prince Constantine now that his parents are gone.”

  Hannah gestured toward the couch. “Please, sit. I’d love to hear more about the royal family, about His Majesty as a boy. What was he like? Did he get into trouble?”

  Mrs. Sivka’s round face creased with a broad smile. “Yes, he did, but then all boys get into trouble, and Prince Stephen and Prince Zale were no exception. They were bright, energetic, mischievous children, eager for adventures and busy planning pranks. Prince Stephen was not as sly as Prince Zale and would get caught red-handed, but His Majesty was small and fast and far more sneaky.”

  “Small, fast and sneaky, Mrs. Sivka?” It was Zale, and he’d entered the room so quietly that neither Hannah nor the nanny had heard him come in. “That hardly sounds flattering.”

  Mrs. Sivka’s round face was wreathed in smiles. “You were a scamp, Your Majesty, but a very, dear, sweet one.”

  Zale rolled his eyes and moved to crouch before his brother, Zale’s powerful thighs corded with muscles, his evening jacket stretched tight across his back. “Tinny,” he said sternly, hands on his brother’s knees. “You can’t run away from Mrs. Daum. You gave her quite a scare. She’s very upset.”

  Tinny pressed a hand to his mouth, eyes wide. “Playing, Zale. Tinny playing.”

  “I know you like to play, but you can’t just leave her like that. She’s crying.”

  “Tinny love Mmm Daum.”

  “I know you do. So you can’t just go on your own. You must take Mrs. Daum or Mrs. Sivka with you when you want to go for a walk or come see me.”

  Tinny’s dark brown eyes filled with tears. “Tinny see Mama
. Tinny miss Mama.”

  Zale swallowed hard. His voice dropped, deepening. “I know you do, Tinny. I miss Mama, too.”

  Tinny wiped tears away with the back of his wrist. “Bed now. Story.”

  Zale nodded and patted his brother’s knee. “Yes, let’s get you to bed and we’ll read you a story. Okay?”

  Mrs. Sivka held Tinny’s hand as they walked back to his suite. Zale and Hannah followed. Tinny was babbling to himself, and rocking back and forth as he walked.

  “It takes him a while to calm down once he’s upset,” Zale said to Hannah.

  “He still misses your mother.”

  Zale’s expression was troubled. “It’s hard, because there’s nothing I can do. There’s no way I can fix this. He was so attached to my mother, and she was very devoted to him. She spent nearly all of her time with him.”

  “How did he get to my room?”

  “He slipped away from Mrs. Daum while they were out walking after dinner. There are hundreds of hidden doors and secret passage ways in the palace and when he disappeared, Mrs. Daum went one way, my brother went another and panic ensued.”

  “Does he go to the Queen’s Chambers often?”

  “He used to, but hasn’t in almost a year. That’s why no one went there first.”

  They’d reached Tinny’s suite and Zale offered to help get his brother changed into his pajamas, but Mrs. Sivka refused, saying she thought His Majesty and Her Highness should spend the time together. “Once all the guests arrive for the wedding, you won’t have time to be alone, so take advantage of the time now.”

  Hannah hugged Prince Constantine. “Good night, Tinny,” she said in Raguvian, kissing his cheek. “Sleep tight,” she added in English.

  Tinny squeezed her hard. “Night, Em-mie.”

  Emmie. Such a sweet nickname for Princess Emmeline. Hannah fought the lump in her throat.

  Zale was saying good-night to his brother now, and Hannah turned to Mrs. Sivka, her emotions raw. “You’re absolutely wonderful, Mrs. Sivka,” she said huskily, tears not far off. “I’m so glad I got to meet you tonight, and I think His Majesty was very lucky to have you as his nanny.”

  “I still think of him as mine,” the nanny answered quietly. “They are my boys, even if they are now men.” She hesitated, her gaze searching Hannah’s. “Are you settling in all right, Your Highness? Is everything to your liking?”

  “Everything is wonderful, thank you.”

  “I understand you visited His Majesty’s island today. It was a good day to go to the beach.”

  “It was. A beautiful day. But then everything has been lovely here, and everyone has been so kind.”

  “Do you think you could be happy here?”

  “I do.”

  “And His Majesty? Is he being good to you?”

  Hannah shot Zale a swift glance. She couldn’t help but notice he was listening. Of course he’d listen now. “He’s trying,” she said, lips twitching.

  “I think it’s time to separate the two of you,” he interjected, taking Hannah’s hand in his. “Come, Emmeline. And good night, Mrs. Sivka, I’ll see you in the morning.”

  Still holding hands, Zale and Hannah walked back to the grand staircase and across to the other wing. Hannah loved the feel of Zale’s large, strong hand against hers, his fingers intertwined. It was such a small thing to hold hands, not at all sexual, but rather loving and tender, which is maybe why it felt so special to Hannah. With Zale like this, she felt completely happy. Completely herself.

  “Mrs. Sivka said that my rooms are the Queen’s Chambers,” Hannah said as they turned the corner and walked down the elegant corridor that led to her suite.

  “They are,” Zale answered, nodding acknowledgment to a palace guard stationed in the hall.

  “But why would the Queen’s Chambers be so far from the King’s? Your rooms are in Tinny’s wing, which is a good walk from here.”

  “Not all kings wanted their queens next door,” Zale said, reaching her suite’s outer door. “Because the kings had lovers?” “Possibly. But there’s another explanation.” “What’s that?”

  “Not all kings liked their queens.” Zale leaned past her, opened her door for her.

  “Sounds like a common theme around here.”

  He released her hand but didn’t move very far back. “Not to be completely contradictory, but I’m beginning to like you.”

  Her heart did a funny little jump. “How horrifying for you.”

  “I know,” he answered dryly. “It complicates things.”

  “How so?”

  His lashes lowered and his gaze moved slowly across her face. “I won’t want you to go if I really like you.”

  Heat rushed to her cheeks. Her skin suddenly tingled. “But you don’t really like me yet.”

  He looked down into her eyes, heat in his eyes, his expression intense. “I wouldn’t be so sure, Your Highness. You’ve begun to grow on me.”

  Her pulse raced and her stomach did wild flips. “Heavens,” she murmured, her heart suddenly so full it’d begun to hurt, “what a disaster.”

  “My sentiments exactly.” And yet his voice was deep and rough, a sexy rumble of sound that made her feel absolutely breathless.

  Hannah was falling for him, falling hard and fast. “Do you want to come in?” “It’s late—”

  “Not that late. Just ten now. We could ring for coffee or a glass of port.”

  He gave her a long look. “If I came in, I wouldn’t want coffee.”

  Blood rushed to her cheeks and her belly tightened, her body feeling impossibly hot. “We could just talk.”

  “You know we wouldn’t.” His gaze dropped, rested on her mouth, as if imagining the feel of it against his own. “If I had you behind closed doors I’d do what I’ve wanted to do since the night you arrived.”

  She struggled to breathe. “And what is that?”

  “I’m trying hard to remain controlled here.”

  “I’m just curious.”

  “And you know what curiosity did to the cat.”

  She locked her knees, her inner thighs clenched tight. “Yes, but did it feel good?”

  A light blazed in his eyes. His jaw thickened. Stark hunger hardened, was etched across his face. “So damn good,” he said thickly, reaching for her, and pulling her to him.

  She tipped her head back. “So it was pleasure that killed the cat?”

  “You are impossible.” His voice was a rasp of sound. “And completely irresistible. If you’re not very careful, I’ll strip you right here in the hall and kiss every inch of you.”

  She shuddered against him, desire making her womb ache. She wanted him. Needed him. “That might be too much of a show for your palace security.”

  He drew a rough breath, color warming his cheekbones. “You are testing my resolve.”