Darlings of Paranormal Romance (Anthology)

by Chrissy Peebles

  The priest bowed. “It’s nice to meet you, Princess.”

  She nodded. Frank had better be right about this ring being the key we need to get outta here. I hope his sources really are reliable, because if I go through with this all for nothing, I’m gonna kick his butt into the next century!

  “Is anyone else attending the ceremony?” the priest asked.

  “No, Father,” Victor said.

  Sarah chuckled and motioned around her. “I think the only guests we have are the guards.”

  “I need you to stand to my left, and King Victor, please stand to the right,” the priest continued.

  Sarah moved into position, butterflies dancing in her stomach. Can I really go through with this? Staring at all the polished swords and shields hanging on the wall, she gulped. She’d always planned to get married in a church filled with smiling friends and family, not alone on some King Arthur movie set. And what’s Victor hiding from me about the ring? Obviously, there was something she needed to know, because it was something all the other royals were aware of. The problem was, she wasn’t royalty.

  “You’re so beautiful,” Victor whispered, cupping her face. “You take my breath away.”

  Her heart leapt. The guy throws me in a hole in the ground and then feeds me a bunch of compliments? She gazed into his eyes, searching for sincerity. For a minute, she thought he actually meant it. “I’m flattered.” Then it dawned on her: There’s got to be something in this for him, even if it is just plain old revenge.

  “Your father and I don’t get along, but I bear you no ill feelings. I’m sorry I lost my temper in the dungeon. I am fuming angry with your wolf of a father, and I should not have taken that out on his blood.” Victor slipped his hands around her waist, his eyes glistening with something she couldn’t place. “I know you were forced into this, and I grant you my deepest apologies. I assure you, my love, that I will spend the rest of my life trying to make you happy.”

  Gazing up at his face, she was surprised to find that he actually had a soft side. So his threats were all a bluff? And he really wants to spend the rest of his life making me happy? Confusion flooded through her. What girl doesn’t dream of getting swept off her feet by a handsome king declaring his undying devotion? Even if we did start off on the wrong foot when he imprisoned me.

  The priest cleared his throat and opened his leather-bound book.

  The king grinned. “Ah, yes. Let’s get started, shall we?”

  The priest nodded. “King Victor Fesque II, wilt thou have this woman to be thy wedded wife? Wilt thou love her, honor her, keep her and guard her, in health and in sickness, as a husband should a wife, forsaking all others? Wilt thou cling only unto her, so long as ye both shall live?”

  Victor met Sarah’s eyes and smiled. “I will.”

  “Princess Gloria Jarod, wilt thou have this man to be thy wedded husband? Wilt thou love him, honor him, keep him and guard him, in health and in sickness, as a wife should a husband, forsaking all others? Wilt though cleave only unto him, so long as ye both shall live?”

  The words sounded surreal, almost as though marrying a man she never met before was nothing more than a dream. Sarah wished she’d get up in the morning and erase all memory of the nonsense with a steaming cup of coffee. Victor looked into her eyes, and she held his gaze. Bring home the Oscar, Sarah, she told herself. She was enjoying her undercover work much more than she should have been. Hmm. Getting that ring on my finger might be easier than I hoped. She gulped and spat out the words. “I will.”

  The priest continued, “Do you take Princess Gloria Jarod to be your wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness, and in health, till death do you part, if the Holy Church doth ordain it? And thereto plight her thy troth?”

  Victor smiled, flashing gorgeous white teeth. “I do.”

  The priest turned and repeated the vows to Sarah.

  She’d never dreamt she’d be saying the words to a stranger, but she said, “I do.” Her stomach twisted into knots, and she took a deep breath. It had all seemed like make-believe to that point, but now it was real. There she was, in that ridiculously fancy wedding gown, facing a man in all his royal finery, wearing a gold crown crusted with jewels.

  The priest said a blessing, then joined Sarah’s and Victor’s hands, “The third finger on the left hand has a special vein called vena amoris, which means ‘the vein of love’. This vein runs from the ring finger directly to the heart. The special ring that is placed upon this finger is the symbol of the sun, earth, and universe, and it represents perfection and peace. It has no beginning and no end, just like time.” He turned to the king. “You may pledge your allegiance to your love and undying devotion.”

  Sarah smiled as Victor pulled a ring from his pocket, cradling it on his palm. Her plan was coming together perfectly and nothing made her happier.

  “The rubies represent love, and the diamonds signify eternity,” said the priest, nodding to the sparkling gems set in a gold band.

  Sarah’s eyes widened. Not only was the ring her ticket back home, but it was also drop-dead gorgeous, a huge, hulking piece of bling. She couldn’t stop staring at it. With its four-carat oval ruby silhouetted by shimmering diamonds, it didn’t look like a traditional wedding ring.

  She cleared her throat and raised her gaze for a second. “It’s real?”

  Victor shook his head, wide-eyed. “Of course, my dear. I assure you it is genuine, for it has been in my family for centuries. Why do you ask?”

  “Because…” She took a deep breath to hide her emotions. “Well, I am a real princess, after all, and I don’t do knock-offs.” Undying love or not, she made sure to hold on tight to the ring. The least she’d get from that forced marriage would be a small house with a nice view in a neighborhood where she didn’t need to barricade her windows at night and sleep with pepper spray under her pillow.

  As her new husband slid the ring on her finger, a jolt of electricity raced up Sarah’s hand and spread throughout her body. She blinked, and a flurry of spots flooded her vision. It was weird and quite inexplicable. The sensation stopped just as quickly as it appeared, and for a moment she stood there, flabbergasted. Wait…did I just imagine that? Granted, her nerves were on edge, what with almost being blinded by the gemstones. Or maybe I’m just dehydrated.

  The priest handed her a matching ring. Looking closer, she noticed his ruby was square, making it look more masculine.

  “Put the ring on Victor’s finger,” the priest whispered.

  She’d never been through a wedding ceremony before, and they hadn’t granted her the courtesy of a rehearsal, so she had no way of knowing what to do. With trembling hands, she slid the ring on his finger and gazed up at his beaming face.

  “We’ve done it,” Victor whispered.

  Wait…that’s it? We’re…married? The cave of her mouth felt dry, almost painful, as she swallowed past the lump in her throat. Is he going to kiss me? She stared at his best feature, those full, firm, luscious lips. She couldn’t come to terms with what was going on in that head of hers. There she was, marrying a powerful king who might keep her from ever going home, but all she could do was stare at his mouth.

  The priest broke through her thoughts. “I now pronounce you husband and wife. My King, you may kiss your queen.”

  “You’re mine now—forever. Our bond is unbreakable, the spark between us never to be quenched.” In slow motion, she saw his face lower onto hers, their lips barely touching. His hand wandered to the low of her back, drawing her closer, her chest pressing against his as his lips came down harder but with nowhere near as much force as she would’ve expected from such a man.

  Sweet and gentle? That’ll work. Don’t all fairytales end with the perfect kiss? A flame spread over her, spanning from the tips of her toes to the top of her head. He wasn’t kidding about that spark! But she knew it was time to shut that down and go to the reception.

  Victo
r dismissed the priest, and Sarah let out a breath of relief. The ring felt heavy on her finger, reminding her that only the first step was done. The hard part was yet to come. She needed to find Frank and get the heck out of there. She smiled sweetly as she peered at her new husband. “Can we eat cake and smash it in each other’s faces now? It’s my favorite wedding tradition.”

  His mouth hovered over her lips, his hot breath giving her goose-bumps. Cake was definitely the last thing on her new hubby’s mind. “I’m so blessed to have a bride as beautiful as you.” Victor’s eyes bore down into hers. “I’ve been burning to touch you, to hold you, to kiss you since the moment I laid eyes upon you.” He slipped his hands behind the back of her head, pulling her even closer. He kissed her again, more deeply this time, pushing past her lips and plunging his tongue deep into her mouth, demanding surrender. Sweet and gentle was out the door.

  Is he trying to prove his dominance somehow? Prove he owns me? Maybe I should smack him, Sarah pondered, but she couldn’t deny the unexpected invasion of passion that threatened to consume her. Letting out a soft moan, she felt a burst of heat race through her body as she snuggled against his hard muscles, shivering with pleasure. Wrapping her arms fiercely around his neck, she swirled her tongue over his, hot and fast. Somewhere inside her head, a voice yelled for her to come to her senses. Why am I not trying to fight him off? She knew she was nothing but a pawn in his game of revenge to piss off Princess Gloria’s father, yet she couldn’t seem to do anything about it.

  He broke away as she gasped for a breath of air. “Guards!” he shouted. “Leave us!”

  Footsteps echoed across the room and a door slammed.

  Victor ran his hands down her back while her fingers slid through his thick, gorgeous hair, his crown landing next to him with a thud. Their tongues tangled and danced furiously in perfect unison. Nobody had kissed her like that before, and his lip-lock drove all thoughts of Frank, the ring, and going home out of her mind. Frank! The name jolted her out of her passion, awareness banishing the fog inside her head. She was lucky she still remembered her name. It was time to go, but she couldn’t force herself to stop.

  Sarah wasn’t expecting that kind of kiss at all: bold, hot, addictive, and devouring. She certainly wasn’t supposed to be enjoying it. If she kept that up, she’d be sleeping with the enemy right there on the stone floor. She broke away, breathing hard, staring into his seductive blue eyes as her heart pounded away. She wanted him in the worst way, and she could easily imagine giving herself to him right then and there. She’d only meant to give him a peck on the lips to seal the deal, so she didn’t understand how that passion had blossomed so quickly. Her escape plan was backfiring quickly. Her gaze focused on his lips again, and she wondered what it would be like to make wild, passionate love to someone so powerful and dangerous.

  Victor scooped her up and cradled her in his arms as her wedding dress trailed to the ground. “Do you want to lie with me here or go somewhere more fitting for a queen?” His disheveled hair made him look even hotter.

  She opened her mouth but no words came out. Sure, he was the bad guy. He had kidnapped, imprisoned, and threatened her, after all, but he was still hotter than a blazing forest fire. She didn’t understand how a complete stranger could give her the most passionate kiss of her life—a stranger who was now her husband, no less.

  “Let’s stay here,” Victor said. “No one will come in and disturb us.”

  “May I ask for something to eat?” And some wine—lots of it—to calm my nerves. Hey, while you’re at it, why don’t you have the royal bartender throw a few cosmos in the mix? “In case you’ve forgotten, I’ve been locked in a rat-infested dungeon all day.” It was the only thing she could think of that might stall him and help her get back on track. She had to get him to the reception, because Frank would be waiting there with some kind of rescue plan in the works. Although, she thought, letting her mind wander for a moment, how bad could it be to be married to a drop-dead gorgeous king? Not bad at all, until he finds out I’m nothing but a peasant trying to steal the royal wedding ring. Sarah couldn’t get caught up in the royal fantasy. He was only using her to procreate, part of his wicked plan to tarnish the bloodline of her so-called royal family. His plan was screwed; her reality set back in. Once he finds out the truth, he’ll have me killed. That’s what all powerful tyrants do. I have to get out of here…NOW!

  “You have my deepest apologies about the dungeon.” Victor tightened his grip on her body. “Let me make it up to you…all night long.”

  “But what I need now is some food,” she said.

  “This is much better.”

  Sarah gasped as hot kisses inched down her neck and toward her cleavage. Nothing had ever felt better than that, but she had to focus and keep herself from getting distracted if she ever planned on finding her sister and getting them all safely home. She wriggled, trying to free herself of his vise-like grip. “But I’m hungry.”

  “We can have cartloads of food brought to my…to our bedchamber.” Victor slid down the puffy sleeve of her dress, kissing her bare shoulder, sending tingling heat throughout her body.

  Enjoying his touch and kisses were a complication she couldn’t afford. She could easily lose herself in that medieval world, but it would be at a lofty price. It was not worth losing everything, her entire life, as well as Frank’s and Liz’s. “Don’t you want to celebrate with your people on this joyous occasion? They might hold a grudge if you count them out. I’m talking pitchforks and stormed castles.” She raised her brows in the hope that he’d buy it.

  He groaned and let go of her. “You think of everything, my love. We’ll make a quick show and then get you something to eat.” Pinching her butt, he winked. “You’ll need your strength, for it shall be a very long night, Queen Gloria Fesque.”

  Smiling sweetly, she nodded. If only…

  Chapter 6

  Sarah stumbled but quickly regained her balance. Stupid, big, fluffy wedding dress! An embarrassing trip down the stairs wasn’t the grand entrance she’d hoped for. If anyone noticed, she decided she’d just laugh it off as wedding-night jitters. She needed to pay attention, but focusing on her footsteps seemed impossible when nothing but escape ran through her mind.

  “Shall I assist you, Your Majesty?” A soldier appeared at her side, his arm proffered.

  She scowled at him, lest he disclose her faux pas to everyone watching. “I’m fine, thanks.” Why’d hubby have to go and send a multitude of armed guards as escorts to the after-party? Now I’ll just have to lose them once I’m in the reception hall. Wait…hubby? Sarah still couldn’t get over the fact that she was married to someone who wouldn’t look out of place on the cover of a romance novel. She shook her head at her temporary lapse in judgment. But what a kisser!

  She entered the great hall, which was filled with well-dressed ladies in silks and satins, whirling across the floor in the arms of gentlemen garbed in rich velvets and brocades. Laughter and chatter echoed through the room as her subjects drank to the new queen’s good health from brown-colored mugs. A troupe of musicians with recorders, trumpets, and flutes played a sprightly dance tune, while their whistles, bells, and drums kept the beat. She wondered if the DJ would take requests, but she highly doubted it.

  Victor smiled, looping his arm in hers. “I see I’m just in time to escort my lovely bride.” His eyes glazed over, and she knew he meant every word. Against her will, Sarah felt her cheeks burning.

  She knew it was cliché, but she felt exactly like Cinderella at the ball. Maybe she’d watched one too many Disney movies, but she had to keep reminding herself that it was all an act on both their parts. All she wanted out of their “blessed union” was the ring, and all he wanted was to piss off his alleged new father-in-law. Nevertheless, she couldn’t help but feel impressed. Nobody had ever given her such a celebration or that much attention before.

  A bald man in short red pants blew a trumpet blast. “Noblemen and women, commoners, and all othe
r parties, bow down before our glorious monarchs, protectors and defenders of the realm, his Royal Majesty King Victor and her Highness Queen Gloria.”

  In one smooth movement, the crowd formed a corridor, bowing deeply as the royal couple stepped into their midst.

  Victor held Sarah’s trembling hand high as they made their way through the parted sea of people. “My bride!” He inclined his head, a broad grin playing on his lips, his eyes shining with pride.

  Part of Sarah wished the illusion was real, but she knew what was really lurking behind that smooth smile of his: revenge. He hated Gloria’s father with a passion, and he viewed that wedding and the forthcoming children as nothing more than payback. Of course, Sarah couldn’t blame him, as she had her own little scheme going on and certainly wasn’t one to point fingers. She scanned the room as the king engaged in friendly chatter, but there was no sign of Frank anywhere. Where is he?

  “Are you looking to make a quick getaway, my Queen?” Victor asked, gripping her hand tighter. If it was meant as a joke, it sure didn’t come across as one. “There’s nobody here from your kingdom to whisk you away.”

  Oh boy. He’s not going to let me out of his sight for a minute. Talk about a clingy husband. Maybe I can play up my alleged head injury, talk crazy and make my escape while he’s off finding that so-called healer of theirs. That’ll be easy enough. All I have to do is mention my world, my California, my cell phones, my high-tech cameras. Sarah beamed at him, spouting the first thing that hit her. “I was a hippie last year, but I didn’t win best costume at the work party, so I’m trying to decide which one of these fantasy costumes I’ll sport next month for Halloween—you know…to win the title.” If I even get home in time for that, she pondered.

  “What?” Confusion crossed his face.

  She motioned toward the crowd. “These costumes don’t work for me. How come there are no warrior women in the medieval Arthurian tales? I think it’s time I create one, because some of these chicks look like they’d stab first and ask questions later. I, for one, would love to lead troops out into battle. I bet they make some figure-flattering chainmail, right? But just because I’m wearing a fluffy dress, that doesn’t mean I can’t find a nice shiny sword to match it. I think I’ll be Lady Guinevere/Lara Croft. Whaddya think, Kingsy, dear?”