The Reluctant Prince

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The Reluctant Prince Page 26

by Candice Gilmer


  I burrowed deeper in the bed when the bedroom door came open.

  I peeked over the mountain of bedding as Hadrian came in, carrying a tray. “Hey,” he said, setting the tray on the bed. “I thought you might like some tea and maybe a snack?”

  I smiled. It actually sounded really good. And the smell wafting out of the cup seemed to soothe me even before I started drinking it.

  “Thanks,” I said, sniffing. At least my sinuses weren’t completely clogged. The warm smell of the tea seemed to be helping that too. Was there eucalyptus in this?

  I was too tired to ask.

  Hadrian pulled off his clothes, not even leaving on underwear as he crawled into bed.

  I couldn’t help staring at his hip, his gorgeous, sexy man hip, as he slipped under the covers, careful not to hit the tray. I sipped on the tea, letting the warm brew slide down my throat, soothing me a little.

  Hadrian adjusted the covers and pulled the tray closer. There was a second cup of tea, and a plate with crackers and cheese, apple wedges, some little roll-up things with…

  “What is that in the center of those?” I asked.

  “Pickles.”

  I blinked. “Pickles?”

  He nodded. “Wrapped in cream cheese and pancetta.”

  Even though I wasn’t sure exactly what pancetta was, my mouth started watering—the pickle things looked amazing. I immediately scooped one up and took a bite.

  Heaven…

  I hoped I didn’t drool.

  “Is that good?” Hadrian asked, a raised eyebrow as he looked at me. I couldn’t help wondering exactly how horrible I looked right now.

  I felt like a doll with overstuffed eyelids.

  Now I kinda hoped I was drooling a bit. Maybe that would take away from my eyes.

  “It’s horrible,” I said. “Don’t eat any of them. I’ll save you the misery.” I pulled another one off the tray and popped it in my mouth.

  Hadrian grinned, picking up an apple wedge. “How are you doing?”

  I let out a sigh. “Shaken and stirred.” I wanted to cry. This was supposed to be my wedding night, and Jim had to ruin it. All I wanted tonight was to pull the covers over my head and hide.

  He rubbed my shoulder, attempting to remove some of the tension. “It has been quite a day.”

  I pulled more of the pickle wraps off the tray and feasted. “The wedding was good. That was awesome. I’d repeat that every day.” I sipped on my tea. “It was the call with my mom, Jim…” I tipped my head to the side. “How come he had to ruin everything?”

  The call to my mom I knew I had instigated. I started that particular emotional roller coaster. So that one was my fault.

  Hadrian put his arm around my waist and took a drink of his own tea. “Some people are that way. It doesn’t matter, they see only themselves.”

  I touched his leg, the exhaustion starting to kick in. “Hadrian, honey, I know it’s our wedding night…”

  “But you’ve been through a lot today,” he said. His eyes did seem to be boiling with lust, but he kept it in check. Even the sheets were betraying his desires.

  I felt bad.

  “And I figured I’d hold you tonight,” Hadrian said, kissing my shoulder.

  Even though my body responded with shivers, I couldn’t seem to allow myself to focus on the idea of sex.

  It seemed too weird.

  “I appreciate that,” I said. “And I will make it up to you.” I reached over and squeezed his hand.

  “Believe me, honey, I have plans.” Hadrian winked.

  I smirked, marveling at how he could make me smile, and even smirk, when I felt so drained.

  Maybe that was a sign that we did belong together.

  Maybe.

  We ate more of the snacks, the apple wedges sweet against the salty crackers and cheese, a great combination. Hadrian rambled on about how the foods complimented each other, and this flavor with that. It was interesting, but I’d never given much thought to flavor compliments when I cooked. I threw stuff together that I liked.

  Of course, I liked toast. And mac and cheese.

  “Do I get a crown?” I asked, staring at a cracker and the marks my teeth made, an edging like a crown, sort of, anyway.

  “Huh?”

  “A crown. Do I get a crown, as a duchess?”

  Hadrian shook his head. “A tiara, I think. Not sure what protocol is.”

  “Dang.”

  He started going into what he knew about steps from the throne, hierarchy and all of that, saying that I’d need to know it, or as much as possible, before I met the king and queen.

  It was enough of a monologue, that I drifted off to sleep, visions of crowns, dancing to Hadrian’s voice, filled my mind.

  And a shadowy figure emerging from the darkness.

  The night had been hard on Hadrian. Very hard.

  Literally and figuratively.

  The hard-on he had in the morning was probably the worst one he’d ever had. He’d never quite felt such desire, such need for anyone. A shrink would probably call his need animalistic, a need to claim his mate.

  That about covered it. He needed to claim her.

  A lot.

  Probably why he bolted for the shower, trying to calm his racing hormones. Sydney slept on. She’d slept fitfully through the night, having nightmares like she’d had that first night in Vegas.

  He wondered if she’d gotten any sleep.

  When he emerged, she was still out, and he leaned over, kissing her forehead. She lay on her side, and he could see a soft, round bulge at her belly. He reached down, stroking it, amazed at how hard the little spot was. Sydney moaned, and rolled over, throwing her hand over her eyes.

  He covered her with the sheets before going downstairs. It took a lot not to climb back into bed with her and see if he could rouse her from her slumber. Yet there were grown-up things he had to do. His producers had sent him three emails about the new show ideas as well as a few demands on when he planned on coming back to work.

  Of course, there was one from his director, wanting to know why he couldn’t reach Alicia.

  He told the man that she was no longer his assistant, and for the time being, he would be handling things.

  As he walked downstairs, he called his producer. While he was happy to hear from him, he wasn’t happy that Hadrian didn’t know when he’d be back.

  “Look, you do understand my family was attacked, right,” Hadrian said to the producer, Ron. After everything happened, he’d had no choice but to inform the producers and the director of his royal heritage.

  Evidently, Alicia had even prepared for such a contingency, and sent out notices to them before they had flown to Koros.

  “Of course, of course. That is important. But it’s over. Surely they don’t need you anymore.” Ron hated being put behind schedule. “And we’re pushing the schedule as it is.”

  Hadrian pinched the bridge of his nose. “What are you saying, Ron? That I need to either come back and shoot or resign?”

  “We can’t afford too many more delays,” Ron said. “There has to be a happy medium somewhere. Alicia would explain it to you.”

  “She’s not my assistant anymore,” he growled at Ron. “I can handle this. I was Koros’s prince before I was your prince, Ron. That takes precedence.”

  “What else could they possibly need you for? Isn’t the crown prince fine?”

  “I can’t talk about it. Fire me if you have to,” Hadrian said. With that, he disconnected from his not-too-happy producer. He had bigger things to worry about right now.

  Like finding out about Alicia. He felt sick enough as it was. He didn’t need his producer hammering him about his other obligations.

  Just like Alicia.

  He made a fist as he entered the kitchen. He’d trusted her with his life. With everything he did, and to know she’d be capable of doing this to him, to his family?

  He half-wondered if she wasn’t of a faction against the monarchy, and had been
plotting all these years to take out the government. He didn’t delude himself. He knew he wasn’t a king in his heart. He’d never had been. He was probably the ultimate weapon a faction against the monarchy could have—an inept king.

  They needed to find Alicia. She’d been in the States, however, she must have only been a few hours ahead of him. And knowing that she’d shown up here, looking for him, that was enough to make him ill.

  What she could have done to Sydney. He shivered at the thought. Thank God that Alicia hadn’t pulled a gun on her or worse.

  He’d seen enough guns directed at his wife than he ever wanted to see, thanks.

  Made him consider buying his own, to protect her. And he’d never taken up arms in his life.

  He got himself a cup of coffee before heading into the den. He sipped on the brew, hearing Robert’s baritone speaking, but he didn’t focus on the words.

  He should have brought the pot with him. The more coffee, the better, for the conference with the king and queen.

  Because it wasn’t going to be pretty.

  Just a few more people going to yell at me today.

  Robert was already speaking to the king and queen when Hadrian walked into the little office. Robert glanced at him. “They want to speak to you.”

  “I have no doubt.” Hadrian hit the speakerphone button. “Good morning, Majesties.”

  “Have you lost your senses?” the king bellowed into the phone. “Running off and getting married? You forget yourself, Duke.”

  Hadrian tensed at the words. “No, actually I didn’t. She is the one for me.”

  “You don’t know anything about her. She could be a psycho. A money hungry—”

  “Majesty,” Hadrian said, cutting off the king. “I would appreciate it if you did not speak about my wife in such a way.” His temper flared. He clenched his teeth, trying very hard not to explode. Unfortunately, being raised as he was, he’d learned to speak his mind more than a member of any monarchy should.

  “I am your king,” came his reply.

  Hadrian sipped on his coffee to quell his desire to scream back. “You’re also my uncle. My family. You’re supposed to be happy that I found love.”

  “Oh, Hadrian,” came the queen’s voice. A crackle came over the phone, and a rapidly spoken mix of French and Korosian that Hadrian couldn’t quite decipher. “Consider the timing. The attack. Michel. Alicia. We still cannot find her.”

  Hadrian grimaced. “That does not make me feel very safe.”

  “You should come back as soon as possible,” the queen said. “For protection.”

  “Why? She could attack again. And it could be worse.”

  “It is not your safety I am concerned with,” the king said, sounding much less enraged.

  Hadrian furrowed his brow. “What do you mean?”

  The king coughed. “Your bride. She may be Alicia’s target. A woman scorned could be quite dangerous. Especially if she knows you married.”

  “She couldn’t,” Hadrian said. And why would she care? After all, it’s not like Hadrian would have ever married Alicia. That was absurd.

  “Keep it that way,” the queen said. “Bring her here, and we can have a formal wedding.”

  And lure Alicia back to Koros. “She’ll follow, especially if she gets wind of it.”

  “We are better prepared than you are there.” The king coughed again, and could be heard sipping on something.

  He didn’t like it, but Hadrian could see the logic in it. “So a sham wedding to lure her there.” He didn’t like thinking he couldn’t protect Syd in the States. To take her so far away from her home…

  Whether he acknowledged that part of himself or not, he still was born of royal blood. He needed to go back. If only for propriety.

  “A formal wedding, recognized by the Church would not be a sham,” said the queen. “For your children and your titles. She could never take her title without a formal wedding.”

  Hadrian shook his head. Regardless of the logic, he had a bad feeling in his gut. “I don’t like it.”

  “It is what needs to be done.” The queen’s voice got that cold tone in it, the one he knew as a child, that whether he liked it or not, this was the way it was.

  “We can do it in three months,” said the queen. “A lovely July wedding.”

  “It will have to be sooner than that.”

  “What for?” the queen asked.

  “You got her pregnant?” the king yelled, this time diving into a coughing fit. “You impregnated some stranger like an idiot. What were you thinking?”

  “I don’t recall thinking any more than you did, or my parents did, Majesty.”

  The queen cleared her throat. “We can do it in a month then. You get her here, and I shall take care of it.” He heard the shifting of a chair, and the clatter of her shoes on the marble floor, followed by the echo of her calling out to assistants.

  Sydney’s going to be pissed.

  “Hadrian, you’re giving me ulcers.” The king coughed again.

  “Is the girl divorced?”

  “She is.”

  The king muttered something. “We’ll have to get special approval from the Pope. Will her ex sign an annulment?”

  “No need,” Hadrian said. “He’s dead.”

  “Good Lord, son, you didn’t kill him, did you?”

  “Well…”

  The king grumbled. “You really are giving me ulcers. They’re worse than the damn cancer.”

  “Sorry.”

  The line disconnected, and Hadrian decided to get more coffee.

  And found Sydney standing there, her eyes wide, staring at him. “We’re leaving?”

  He nodded.

  She turned her head away, and Hadrian hoped that she hadn’t heard very much of that conversation. But by the way she’d run upstairs, he had a feeling she’d heard it all.

  Damn.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  I’d never been in a plane that long before. I’d never flown over the ocean either. And I don’t care what anyone says, it’s not peaceful at all. When there’s nothing but blue above you and blue below you, that’s quite friggin’ frightening.

  I would have emptied the on-board liquor cabinet if I could have.

  Probably had something to do with the fact that I wasn’t the happiest girl in the world about this whole mess. I mean, I thought, when we got married, that would be the end of it.

  But no, we have to have the big, fancy wedding in Koros. Marry before the king and queen. Oh joy. Especially after hearing what the king and queen thought about this.

  They were livid.

  I hadn’t intended on overhearing. I’d gotten up, found him gone, and padded downstairs. The voices attracted my natural curiosity.

  I should have stayed in bed. I really didn’t need to hear how angry his aunt and uncle were about us getting married. Even I had my reservations, and I married him. Albeit, I love Hadrian, of that I have no doubt. Not anymore, anyway.

  But the whole royalty thing? It’s just…it’s strange. I’m American. Royalty isn’t something we come by here. We escaped Europe to get away from monarchies.

  And here I was marrying into one? I was nobody, a commoner. The lowest of a commoner and an American to boot. I don’t care what anyone says, getting married to a prince isn’t that glamorous.

  When the plane finally landed, I was ready to kiss the ground and swear I’d never leave it again.

  Hadrian glanced over at me as the plane slid to a stop. “You okay?”

  I was white-knuckling the grips on the handles. “Fine.”

  He raised an eyebrow at me. “You’re going to rip the chair apart, you keep that up.”

  I forced myself to let go of the armrest. “I hate flying.”

  Hadrian smoothed the collar of my new blouse. I’d spent most of the day yesterday in town, shopping for clothes since I didn’t have anything fancy to wear. I even got a formal to wear, empire waist to hide my baby bump, which wasn’t showing m
uch yet, but in my baby book, it said that any time now it could suddenly pop out.

  Probably the day of the wedding, knowing my luck.

  The plane arrived to take us to Koros late last night, and we’d been on board for eternity.

  Yet another night to consummate our wedding down the tubes. And I could have used a little sex. Not that Hadrian hadn’t been encouraging. But we didn’t have a private bedroom on board.

  When the plane stopped, Hadrian helped me off, and we descended the stairs.

  “Don’t say a word,” Hadrian whispered to me as we headed toward the car that was waiting. “Just smile.”

  I wasn’t ready for the cameras. The flashbulbs in my face made me jump, and I’m sure they got pictures of me with my mouth open and sleep in my eyes.

  Nico, along with other guards, some I knew from the lake house, others who must have been here waiting for us, held back the reporters.

  We’d barely gotten in the vehicle when it took off. I hardly had a second to get my seatbelt on.

  But at least I had it.

  The driver drove at roughly a million miles per hour through the streets. I was the only one fazed by the speed and twisted roads the driver took, though. I tried watching the scenery as we drove, but I didn’t get to see much.

  It was a strange collection of buildings. Modern, new shiny buildings, mixed with old ones, glistening almost golden in the light. It was like someone took a model of new Manhattan and a model of old Cairo and tried to put all the buildings together.

  Everything was rich and colorful. I could smell the sea air, and it reminded me a little of the lake, when the fishermen came in with their catches.

  Reds, golds, blues and greens—the colors ranged all over the place, plants of all shades, other bits of color on buildings or signs in the streets. It was like a paradise, but with more depth.

  “You lived here?” I whispered.

  “Part-time,” Hadrian said. He pointed out the window then rested his hand on my leg, his finger doing intoxicating swirly things on my thigh. “Up that road, that’s where my chateau is.”

  “Is that where we’ll stay?” I tried to remain focused, even though he was tormenting the Hell out of me.

  He shook his head. “Lindsey is there.” His hand inched higher.

 

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