For a moment, she waited, then she reeled back and kicked him as hard as she could in the shin. He didn't budge. Not even a little bit. And worse? It felt like she'd just slammed her toes into a metal pole.
"What the--" she whispered, bending down to rub her foot.
"I'm sorry, Your Grace. I cannot allow you entry. The prince is--"
A whoosh of air and a faint creaking sound let Tess know that the door had been opened and she glanced up to find Antone staring at the pair of them, his dark eyebrows knotted over his serious gaze.
"Tess. You've something to speak with me about?"
"Your highness, I tried--" Luca said, but Antone held up a hand.
"It's quite all right, Luca. Tess is to be my wife, she ought to have full access to me whenever she needs it. Now, please, step aside and allow her entry."
Tess wanted to stick out her tongue at the guard while pumping her fist in the air, but somehow she managed only a dignified nod as she swept past him into Antone's wide, airy study. If she'd thought there were a lot of books in the library, it was nothing compared to this room. Apparently, the man had read everything he could get his hands on, and based on the papers littering his wide, lacquered desk, he'd written quite a bit in his time, too.
He cleared his throat behind her and she turned to find him closing the door and raising his eyebrows expectantly.
"You've got quite the collection." She waved her hand at the shelves, then hated herself for the comment. She should get right down to business, tell him why she was here. That she needed to leave. But the idea of opening her mouth and spilling out the story she'd kept locked away for so long made her want to babble about something, anything else.
"I do. I'm very fond of reading." Antone nodded, then sat behind his desk and motioned to the two comfortable-looking chairs in front of him. "Now, you wanted to talk to me, I assume? Unless you were overcome by the need to be with me?"
"I, yes, I mean, no. I wanted to talk to you." She scratched her head as she flopped onto one of the chairs, and then swallowed hard, wondering where to start.
"Well, if you would be so kind, I'd love to know what it is you have to say? I have a conference shortly."
"Right. Well. Your sister..." She searched for the words, but Antone beat her to it.
"She can be difficult, I know. Has she been rude to you?"
"Well, yeah, but that's not why I'm here. Your sister mentioned something and I was just wondering..." She ran her tongue over her top lip, then went on, "How much do you know about my past?"
"I told you, I did an investigation. Credit Score, Criminal background check--"
"But not, like, a Google search?" She raised her eyebrows.
"I did not handle the matter personally."
"Maybe you should have." She blew out a long breath, then said, "Look, I get why you want a queen and an heir and everything, but I think if you knew more about me--"
"You are carrying my child. I don't need to know anything other than that."
"But you do, though. You need to know a ton more. You need to know--" Here it came. There was no avoiding it. "Look, I've already ruined one political career, I don't want to ruin yours, too. I think it'd be best for everyone if I went back to America. Nobody has to know about your bastard child. I'll never say a word about my baby's father."
Antone's mouth hardened into a thin line, then after a moment that seemed to stretch on for an eternity, he said, "I believe there is more to this that you are not telling me. I would like to know what you are referring to."
"Just Google me. I swear, it's the first thousand things that pop up."
"But I am asking to hear it from you." He folded his hands on top of his desk and waited, expectant.
"Look, it's hard to talk about."
"But you are asking me to be separated from my son because of it. I would think you owe me an explanation, do you not?" He raised his eyebrows, though the expectant look on his face didn't shift in the slightest.
"I mean...I guess." She glanced down at her lap, then twisted her hands as she began. "Look, okay, when I was starting college, my father was running for office."
"May I ask which?"
She closed her eyes. "He was in the primaries for the Presidential election."
"I see," Antone said in a perfect monotone.
"Anyway, he was doing really well in the polls and my family looked really great...on paper, anyway. He was running on this huge abstinence platform--family values, all that. My sister was the poster child with her purity ring and all that kind of stuff."
"And you, their virginal college student?"
"I tried to stay as far away from the election as I could. I was in college and finally free of all the political bullshit my father and mother dragged me through. But, see, at the end of the Spring semester I found this guy. Or, I guess, he found me."
"I see."
"His name was Lawrence. Halpern. He, uh, I mean I thought he was a masters student. He was older than me, and...well, he was interesting. I started seeing him and everything was going really great until one night we were out to dinner and the papers saw us."
She felt Antone's silence as she continued. "I didn't know that he was married. Or that he had a daughter my age. You know, I was a stupid kid. But then the papers start talking about my daddy issues and how I was a disgrace to my family. It came up in every debate. That I was an out of control slut--"
"Tess," He said sharply once she'd said the word, but she only shook her head.
"It didn't matter to anyone that he'd tricked me or that I hadn't slept with him. Nobody wanted to hear my side of the story. Before long, my father quit the race and was treated like he had the political equivalent of the plague. If it weren't for my other, perfect sister I might have ruin his career all together." She sucked in her cheeks, then waited for his response.
When he said nothing, she got up from her chair and headed toward the door. "So, I think it's clear. If you marry me, the whole story comes out again, and this time I'm pregnant, too. You lead a traditional people--your sister said so. They won't accept a homewrecker as their queen."
"Tess." Antone stood from his chair and then crossed the room. With one hand, he gripped her arm and spun her around to face him. "I told you already, I knew everything I needed to know. This information changes nothing for me. It should change nothing for you."
"But--"
"You think no royal person ever did anything crazy or idiotic at the age of 18? I can assure you, the papers have said much and more about my escapades." He shook his head. "This means nothing when it comes to ruling a country, and I would hope that my people would know an 18 year old and the 28 year old they grow to be are two very different people. One was young and foolish. Another? Well, we've yet to find out."
"So far, it seems like the answer is just less young, but equally foolish." She shrugged.
Antone surprised her by offering her a warm smile. "Then you hide it well."
She blinked, unsure what to make of his compliment. Vaguely, she noted that he'd not yet released her arm from his grip, and the thrill of his warm touch soared through her body, heating every part of her.
It was ridiculous. She'd come here to tell him that she was leaving, had worn her worst outfit and hadn't even bothered to do her make-up. And still, here she was, melting into a puddle at the man's feet from one little touch.
She had to pull herself together.
After all, what was it he'd said on the plane? Or maybe it was her who'd said it?
This was a platonic relationship. Two equals raising a child in companionable celibacy.
No matter how he made her heart race.
No matter how he looked at her like he was peeling her clothes off with his eyes.
No matter what.
Right?
Tess bit her bottom lip, a pretty red blush coloring her cheeks as she glanced away from him. "I should probably go."
"Oh?" he said, careful to keep his voice level.
He wanted to respect her wishes, truly he did, but there was something about being so near to her that made him want to throw caution to the wind.
He wanted to take her in his arms, to kiss her. Even in her ridiculous outfit, he wanted to rip off her clothes and lay her bare to him, the same way she'd been the night of the gala.
Her body, so yielding, so pliant, would be all his for the taking and all he had to do was to close the tiny space between them and claim her lips for his own.
But her voice shook him out of his fantasies, and he took a deep breath, trying to ignore the rush of need making its way through his body.
She said, "Your sister--"
"Has likely already left the library in a huff." He cleared his throat, desperate to return to normality. "Do not worry about pleasing Ellaria. That is a task that neither you nor I are capable of managing. That will take a very strong man indeed."
Though, indeed, he was beginning to wonder if that trait was something the two women might bond over. After all, what sort of woman had a closet full of designer gowns and chose a purple mumu instead? What sort of woman was handed the world on a silver platter and asked for something else?
"I can sort of tell that she's...uh, spirited." Tess offered up a shy smile. Heartened, he plowed on, if only because he knew as long as he was talking, she would stay.
"I only hope Prince Damian is up to the task."
"Prince Damian?" Tess asked.
He nodded. "The man my sister is to marry. I arranged everything when I returned. I had been set to marry the Princess Annabella of Tripole in two years time, but given our current situation, I thought my sister wedding Annabella's brother might--"
"So, your sister has to marry some man she doesn't know? Because of me?" Tess frowned. He rushed to correct his mistake.
"No, no, because of me." Antone said, then he squared his shoulders and continued. "It is nothing. Ellaria has known since she was born what her duties are and what is expected of her. She does not have the luxury of choosing a husband. If it was not Prince Damian, it would have been someone else."
"But that's awful. Why should you get to choose me when your sister--"
"Ah, my dear. I did not choose you. Fate seems to have chosen you for me." He glanced at her belly and wondered vaguely what she might look like when it began to swell. Still, as well-intentioned as his words had been, he'd evidently said something to upset her.
"I see." Her face was still as stone, and then she turned her back on him, making her way for the door. He reached for her again and spun her around. She glanced down at his hand on her bicep and raised an eyebrow.
"You can't keep doing that," she said.
"Have I done something to offend you?" he asked.
"No. I just...I should be going. I should call my family. Let them hear from me. Tell them about...everything." She pressed her palm to her stomach.
"Right. Of course." Antone nodded, but he didn't release her. Instead, he led her toward him, pulling her close until he could smell the passion fruit shampoo of her hair. "You will be on time for dinner tonight?"
She looked up at him, and something in her face shifted before she said, "Of course. As you command, Your Highness."
He released her and she flounced toward the door. When it clicked closed behind her, he sat at his desk and breathed a deep sigh. Vaguely, he wondered if Tess had known how close he'd been to kissing her. If she'd felt the tension, as he had, from the moment she'd walked into the room.
He had to get hold of himself. Distance himself from this woman who was clearly too much for any man to handle.
And what she'd told him...
He clicked his pen and scribbled on a blank piece of paper, if only to give himself something to do, something to focus on instead of everything she'd just laid out for him.
He'd have to contact the papers, the publicists, everyone he could manage. And then, of course, he'd have to hire someone who would keep him from flying to America and killing Lawrence Halpern himself.
What sort of scumbag could do that to a person? Lie to their face and then make them pay the price? And of all people, who could do that to a person like Tess?
He gripped his pen harder, then checked it over the desk and onto the floor.
He needed a new plan, a new mindset. Free of Tess. Free of conflict. Free of all this tension.
Besides, who knew? Maybe with Tess free from his mind, he could finally get some actual work done.
8
That night, Tess appeared for dinner dressed in one of the overly feminine silk frocks that lined her wardrobe. She had to admit, the cut and trumpet skirt of the gown accentuated her features in a way she couldn't help but appreciate, and a dark, secret part of her wondered if Antone would notice and appreciate it, too.
She needn't have worried about that, though.
For all the time and effort she'd put into getting dressed and appearing on time, neither Antone nor his sister bothered to attend supper that evening. Or, in fact, any of their meals for the rest of the week.
Instead, Tess was left to roam the castle's corridors alone, exploring all the little rooms and alcoves that Antone and his sisters probably knew so well. That her own son or daughter would grow to explore as the years went by.
If she was worried about running into Antone, she needn't have bothered with that, either. Apparently, he was too busy running the country in his father's absence to bother much with his pregnant bride. Which, Tess supposed, was to be expected. Perhaps he thought--as she did--that their night together had simply been a moment of weakness between them. That their arrangement should continue as planned, regardless of the heat that had surged between them.
That was the logical thing to do. To remain separate. To live their lives as each of them wanted to, without having to bother with what the other would think.
And yet, when she went to bed each night, a small niggling part of her wondered what it would be like to feel the heat of his body press against her. To feel his warm breath against her neck as it evened and slowed. Then, in her darker moments, she wondered if perhaps someone else knew that feeling. If, in all these hours she'd gone without seeing him, he'd brought another woman into the palace...into his bed. As much as she hated herself for it, her gut twisted at the thought of his strong arms wrapping around another woman's waist, pulling her close to his muscular, rock-hard chest.
As one week turned into two, though, her suspicions only worsened. Soon, she was having nightmares of Antone's affairs with other women. Imagining that he waited behind every door with some blond or redhead that she didn't know, challenging her to say something of his infidelity.
All the while, though, her princess lessons with Ellaria muddled on, each growing worse than the last has her distraction and Ellaria's frustration compounded.
One day, at the end of her second week without a word from Antone, she stumbled on a phrase and Ellaria slammed a book onto the floor with a loud "crack."
"I thought you were slow, but this is absurd," Ellaria muttered something else in rushed Italian under her breath and Tess scrubbed a hand over her face.
"I'm sorry, I'm just--"
"Save your apologies for my brother. They will not help you with me." Ellaria plucked the book from the floor and sat it in front of Tess again. "Now read. Review."
Tess glanced down at the words, unseeing, then she closed the tome and stared up at her reluctant professor. "Look, I know you don't like me."
"Whatever would give you that idea?" Ellaria practically snarled.
"I didn't ask for this any more than you did."
"Oh no? The random American with a family of social climbers never dreamed of being a princess?" Ellaria raised an eyebrow.
"No. I didn't. I just wanted--"
"I don't care. I thought I had made that clear. Save it for my brother."
"That'd be a lot easier if your brother ever spoke to me." Tess was at the breaking point. She curled her fingers around the little table in front
of her and Ellaria looked her over with fixed disdain and a flicker of something else. Curiosity?
"That would explain some things." Ellaria curled a finger around one of her golden locks.
"Like what?"
"He asks me for reports on you. How you're eating. If you're looking well."
"He does?" Tess wasn't sure what to make of that, but Ellaria nodded.
"He seems quite concerned. He's booked a doctor's appointment for you at the end of next week."
"Good of him to tell me," Tess grumbled.
"We all serve at his pleasure." Ellaria gritted her teeth. "All of us."
"Do you--?" Tess started to ask, but Ellaria stalked toward the door and swung it open.
"Practice your conjugation," she said, then with a nod toward Luca who was stationed at the door, she disappeared.
Tess blinked after her, then tapped her fingers against the cover of her book. It was an old, hard-backed English to Italian dictionary and she'd practiced with it every day to no avail.
With a sigh, she opened to the page she'd been studying and repeated the words over and over again, begging her mind to allow the translation to stick.
"You will not go far practicing this way," Luca offered after she'd let out a frustrated sigh.
"Oh?"
"You must practice in speech. Immersion. This is how I learned English." Luca nodded. "Watch Italian television. Converse in Italian. I tried to tell the princess, but she...she is difficult to sway." Luca offered a friendly smile and Tess softened.
"Maybe you're right. I doubt she'd practice with me, though."
"Perhaps the prince might serve?" Luca asked.
"He might if I ever knew where he was." Tess held her head in her hands, then looked up at Luca again. "Isn't it hard for you to keep track of all their royal whereabouts?"
Luca shook his head. "I have served this family since I was a boy. We played together as children. If one of the royal family needs to go somewhere to think, I always know where they are."
"And where does Prince Antone go?"
"The garden," Luca said it so simply that Tess wondered why she'd never thought of it herself. Maybe because she could hardly picture Antone's imposing form towering over rose bushes and flowerbeds. Before she could comment on that, though, Luca went on.
Seduced by the Stranger Page 6