by Annie West
She pushed her hair back over her shoulder and tried to read his face. ‘You want me to leave?’
‘No! No, I’m just surprised.’
‘You thought I’d turn my back on you?’ Maybe she should have. Tonight had made it clear she had no hope of Lambis ever feeling for her as she did for him. He was a one-woman man, racked with guilt over his family.
‘I didn’t know. You sounded angry.’
She saw his hands tighten then unclench at his sides as if he were restless, suppressing powerful emotions.
Amelie shrugged, surprised to find he was right. Anger at the pointlessness of it mixed with regret and a deep, abiding sadness. ‘I hate to see you torturing yourself this way. You have so much to offer, Lambis. So much to give.’ She took a slow, steadying breath. ‘One day I hope you find someone who’ll help you realise that. Someone worth taking a risk for.’
Though it wouldn’t be her, Amelie sincerely hoped one day the right woman would help Lambis tear free of the miasma that shrouded him.
‘I don’t want to think about the future.’
He looked so proud and strong standing there, silhouetted by moonlight. As if he were unassailable. Yet Amelie remembered the raw ache in his voice as he spoke of his family, and saw his apparent self-control for what it was—a defence mechanism. Her heart turned over.
Amelie pushed aside the sheet and opened her arms. ‘Then let’s just concentrate on here and now.’
He wasn’t interested in her love, would probably run a mile if he guessed. But she could give him comfort. A comfort she discovered she needed almost as much.
For one tremulous moment she held her breath, wondering if he’d reject her. Then, before she had time to process the thought, he was in her arms, pushing her back onto the bed, his hot breath at her throat, her jaw, her breasts as he pressed hungry kisses to her flesh. Callused, urgent hands scraped her thighs as he tugged her nightdress high, then left her to make short work of his clothes.
Lambis came to her, hard and so needy he trembled with it. So driven there was no time for his usual generous foreplay. Instead, after one purposeful caress that found her wet and eager, he slid his hands beneath her bottom, tilting her up to meet him and thrust home, sure and true as if that was where he belonged.
Amelie blinked back hot tears. That was where he did belong. At the heart of her, making them both whole.
She grabbed his shoulders, winding her legs around his hips and feeling him sink even deeper. Home.
Then there was no more thought as his mouth took hers and he found the powerful rhythm that bound them tighter and tighter together until, lips still locked and hearts pounding in tandem, they raced to the edge of the precipice and flew off into the stars.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
SEB’S LAUGHTER RANG out from the pool, followed by the deep burr of Lambis’s voice. Ordinarily that would have made Amelie smile, for the pair had forged a bond of affection that grew stronger every hour. Despite occasional tears and clinginess, each day Seb seemed a little more like his old self. And he was talking!
Lambis might berate himself for not protecting his son, yet despite the pain he’d revealed that night on the beach he hadn’t withdrawn from Seb. Lambis was too protective, too caring for that. He’d no sooner hurt the little boy than he would intentionally hurt Amelie.
Yet it was too late.
She was already hurt in ways that couldn’t be fixed, loving a man who’d locked himself away because, she guessed, he was afraid of caring. Losing his family had all but broken this powerful man. Lambis felt so deeply.
Shutting her eyes, Amelie forced her mind away from Lambis. Back to the calamitous new problem on her hands.
Wearily she pressed her hand to her forehead as she turned back to the computer screen. But there was no mistaking the effusive media piece. King Alex of Bengaria was definitely in St Galla, staying in her home, ready to attend the gala celebration that Amelie had cancelled ages ago in a discussion with the Prime Minister. Monsieur Barthe had nodded, saying he understood Seb had to be her priority. He’d promised his staff would make the necessary arrangements to reschedule the event.
Heart hammering, Amelie tried to recall the original date of the event. This week surely? She clicked on another report, this time with photos.
The world stopped.
Amelie blinked, trying to clear her vision, but nothing could shift the photo before her. King Alex outside a scientific research centre in St Galla after an official visit. And at his side, looking just a little distracted, was Princess Amelie of St Galla!
Amelie pressed the heel of her hand to her chest, trying to stop her galloping heart leaping free. She blinked, reading and rereading the caption. But there was no sane explanation. She’d never met Alex. His visit was to be the meeting that would help her decide if she wanted to get to know him better with a view to matrimony.
This wasn’t an old photo of her and the handsome Prince.
Which meant she had a lookalike. Another woman who looked like her, pretending to be her!
Amelie sank back in her chair, mind racing, her skin clammy as nausea rose.
It should be impossible that anyone could look so much like her. Yet as she stared at the screen it was evident this wasn’t just a matter of makeup and a wig. The woman could have been her double. Was her double!
It was the weirdest feeling, staring at a photo of herself and realising the woman in the photo wasn’t her. Was there some slight difference in the angle of her jaw? Maybe around the eyes? Or was that wishful thinking? An instinctive rejection of the idea anyone could pass as her double? It was hard to tell but the other woman might be just a fraction shorter.
Which was neither here nor there. What mattered was finding out who she was and what she was doing taking Amelie’s place.
Amelie had no close relations except Seb and Enide, the elderly second cousin who held the fort while she was away. So where did the unmistakable family resemblance come from?
Too easily her thoughts scrolled back to half-heard rumours about her father’s infidelities. She’d been old enough to realise her parents hadn’t had a happy marriage but she’d assumed the muted whispers were exaggerated. Now she wondered.
Taking a deep breath, Amelie reached for her phone and rang Enide.
Twenty minutes later, her head was spinning. She could barely believe what Enide had reluctantly admitted.
Far from cancelling King Alex’s visit, the Prime Minister, Monsieur Barthe, had encouraged it, even having the temerity to tell Alex’s staff she’d already agreed to a royal marriage! Barthe was set on her marrying a suitable husband, which in his old-fashioned reckoning meant a man with blood as blue as hers. Amelie ground her teeth, thinking of the lies he’d told. Of how he’d used her in his devious games.
Obviously Barthe thought he had her over a barrel with his threat to withhold the regency unless she married. As if she had to be a wife in order to be a mother to Seb!
Well, he had a fight on his hands. She’d always intended to dispute that. Now there was no way she’d bow to such pressure.
Plus he’d brought in a body double for her, a woman called Catherine or Cat Dubois. According to Enide, this Cat wasn’t the go-getter she’d expected. Enide had taken a shine to her, which was rare since she was so protective of Amelie. True to form, Barthe had conned Cat as well. He hadn’t told her King Alex would visit and she’d have to pretend to be Amelie with the man everyone now assumed Amelie would marry.
Not only that, but the public reception where they’d both appear was tonight! In just a couple of hours.
Amelie had no idea if she could get home by then. How long to fly to St Galla?
Lambis and Seb had disappeared so she’d called the housekeeper on the internal phone but she hadn’t been able to tell Amelie if the helicopter would return today from the mainland.
Amelie pressed a hand to her breastbone, trying to still her racing heart. For, as if all that wasn’t enough, Enide ha
d other news too. Cat was Amelie’s half-sister. She was the daughter of a maid who’d worked at the palace when Amelie’s parents were first married.
Amelie swallowed bile at the idea of her father being unfaithful to her mother straight after their honeymoon. Disloyalty was anathema to her but that...
She’d always known her father was lazy and self-indulgent but she hadn’t thought he’d stoop so low.
She shot to her feet, her emotions too turbulent to name. Except that deep within the roiling mess was excitement. She had a sister! That fact shone bright and hopeful.
How did you make the acquaintance of a sibling you hadn’t known you possessed? A sibling who was doing her best to cover for you in difficult circumstances?
A sister she’d been deprived of all her life.
Amelie had learned it was best to live in the present, for everything could be snatched from you in an instant. She wouldn’t give up Seb or put up with Barthe’s machinations. She would get to know her sister. She might never have the love of the man who’d stolen her heart years ago, but there were other consolations in a life devoted to duty.
The phone rang. It would be Enide calling back as instructed. Amelie’s blood ricocheted around her body so fast she reached out and grabbed the back of a chair.
She sank into it and reached for the phone. ‘Hello? Enide?’
‘Amelie? I can’t tell you how sorry I am. I—’ Enide sounded distraught.
‘It’s okay, Enide. This isn’t your fault.’ No, it was Prime Minister Barthe’s for bullying her elderly relation into keeping quiet about this ludicrous masquerade. Poor Enide had thought she was protecting Amelie and Seb, knowing they needed peace and quiet.
‘Is she there?’ Funny how Amelie hesitated to speak her sister’s name. Enide had said the woman was likeable and engaging yet Amelie felt nerves flutter in her stomach.
‘I have her here. Are you absolutely sure—?’
‘I’m sure. I’m fine, truly, Enide. Worry instead about Barthe. Keep an eye on him. He’s more dangerous than even I realised.’
‘Yes, of course. I will. But please, take care of yourself.’
‘Of course.’
Amelie heard muffled noise at the other end of the line then a new voice.
‘Hello?’ It was a woman about her own age, speaking with an American accent. Amelie’s pulse sped.
‘Ms Dubois?’
‘Yes?’
‘It’s Amelie here. Princess Amelie.’ Never had she been more grateful for the years of experience in dealing with challenging situations. Her throat almost closed with nerves and excitement but her voice sounded fine.
‘Your Highness.’ Cat’s voice was husky. With shock? Or was that how she usually sounded?
‘Amelie, please.’ She paused, slicking her tongue around dry lips. This was so hard over the phone. She wanted to be there to meet her sister and sort out this tangled mess. ‘May I call you Cat?’
‘Of course.’
‘Thank you.’ Questions hammered her brain. All the things she should ask about King Alex and Barthe and the reception. How had her half-sister, with absolutely no experience of the palace, coped? ‘Are you all right, Cat?’
‘I’m sorry?’
‘I asked if you’re okay.’ Amelie sighed, drawing the hair back from her face with trembling fingers. How she wished Lambis were here. He’d tell her if she could get to St Galla tonight.
‘I’ve just found out about this scheme for you to take my place at tonight’s reception. I had no idea. The event should have been cancelled when I told the Prime Minister I wouldn’t be there. I believed it had been cancelled.’ Her mouth tightened at the prospect of confronting Barthe. He might run the nation but he’d learn he didn’t run her!
‘I haven’t been watching the news, you see, and I haven’t been in regular contact with anyone at the palace.’ Except Enide, who’d known she was at her wits’ end trying help Seb. ‘So I didn’t know you’d been brought in. Are you all right?’
‘I’m fine. I...well, I’m not very good at being a princess, but I’m muddling through.’
Despite her tension, Amelie smiled. She admired how Cat downplayed what must have been a massive challenge. Maybe they did have some things in common. ‘Even with King Alex in the palace?’
There was no answer.
‘Cat? Are you sure you’re all right?’ Concern tinged her voice. Crazy to be worried about someone she didn’t know existed till now, but there it was.
‘I’m fine. And Alex knows the truth. He guessed some time ago.’
‘Yet he’s still there?’ Amelie couldn’t hide her astonishment. She’d heard only good things about Alex, which was why she hadn’t rejected the marriage idea instantly. But why hadn’t he left St Galla when he’d realised he was being duped?
‘He knows it’s not your doing. He blames Monsieur Barthe. But he’s willing to go along with the pretence so there’s no public scandal.’ Cat paused. ‘But there’s something else you need to know. He made it clear, even before he found out who I was, that he wasn’t interested in marriage.’
Amelie slumped back in her chair. ‘Thank God. That’s one thing less to worry about.’
‘You’re pleased?’ Cat was confused.
‘I agreed to entertain the idea, but my heart wasn’t in it.’ Amelie’s laugh was bitter. Now wasn’t the time to dwell on where her heart was engaged.
‘Are you all right? I’ve been worried you might be in trouble.’
‘That’s kind of you.’ Amelie felt a rush of warmth for this stranger who didn’t feel like a stranger. ‘Things haven’t gone quite as I’d expected but I’m coming home.’ She’d put that off too long, hoping to reach Lambis at more than a physical level. As if somehow she could will him to love her. How pathetic was that? Amelie straightened. ‘I’d like, very much, to meet you. I...’ She paused, struck anew by the depth of her emotions. ‘I didn’t know you existed till Enide told me.’
‘I’d like that.’ Amelie heard the emotion in Cat’s voice too.
‘Good. I’m looking forward to it too.’ Amelie forced herself to focus on the tangled mess in St Galla. ‘Now, about tonight. I’ll see if I can get there in time. Transport is a bit limited from here and—’
‘It’s all right. I can do it. It’s only for a couple of hours and with Enide and Alex watching out for me I’ll be fine.’
‘Alex?’ The way Cat said his name intrigued her.
‘He’s been...helpful.’
‘I see.’ Amelie paused, frantically trying to calculate the most sensible way forward. Was it better for both of them to be in St Galla tonight, assuming she could get transport? Or safer to stay away till after the reception so there weren’t two princesses in the same place? Enide had said Cat was leaving tomorrow. ‘Are you absolutely sure? I couldn’t guarantee I’d get there exactly on time but—’
‘I’m sure. I’ll manage. I’m sure you have other things on your mind than tonight’s reception.’ There was a pause. ‘I hope Prince Sébastien is well.’
‘He’s fine.’ Despite everything, Amelie smiled. No matter what scandal they courted with this charade in St Galla, Seb was on the mend. That was what mattered. ‘Much better than before.’
‘Amelie?’ Lambis’s deep voice made her turn in her seat. He stood, filling the doorway, and inevitably her heart gave that little shimmy of delight.
She pressed her hand to her chest. She had to move on. She couldn’t continue like this.
Amelie turned away from the door. ‘I’m sorry. I have to go. Are you sure about tonight? I can try—’
‘Absolutely.’ The certainty in her sister’s voice convinced her. Amelie sat back, surprised at the relief filling her. She’d have to deal with Monsieur Barthe and King Alex, but not till tomorrow. She was used to being the one who managed, who kept everything running, who took responsibility. It was a novel thing to relinquish control to another.
As she had with Seb, she realised, letting Lambis help shoul
der the burden of responsibility and care.
‘Thank you, Cat. If you can manage tonight it will give me a little time to...organise things. But we’ll talk soon and arrange to meet, either in St Galla or elsewhere.’
Amelie was surprised her hand didn’t shake as she put the phone down. When she looked up Lambis stood before her. He was so unnaturally still she sensed his hyper-alertness. What did he read in her face?
She looked away, telling herself it didn’t matter what he read, or how he reacted. Lambis had made it clear he had no place in her future, except as an occasional visitor to Seb. It was time to move on.
‘What’s happened? What’s the problem?’ His voice was terse, that of a man used to taking charge in difficult situations.
Well, he wouldn’t have to deal with this. She’d handle it alone.
It was time to say goodbye.
Pinning on a smile, she met those piercing eyes, ignoring the way her heart fluttered. ‘It’s time Seb and I went home.’
* * *
Home? Shock jerked his body. Lambis had guessed it when his housekeeper relayed the query about the chopper. But hearing Amelie say it...
It was a measure of the change she’d wrought in him that, instead of being relieved at the prospect of solitude, Lambis wanted to wail and gnash his teeth. More, he wanted to wipe that polite smile off her beautiful lips with a kiss that would turn her compliant and eager in his arms. He wanted her to say she wouldn’t leave him.
His head reared back.
‘Leaving? You can’t go yet. Seb’s not fully recovered.’
Her smile looked strained but she didn’t turn away. ‘I suspect that will take a long time, for both of us.’
What was she saying? That he’d taken advantage of her grief?
She was right. Where Amelie was concerned he hadn’t any restraint—possibly because he’d been keeping his distance for years. His resistance to her had finally eroded.