The Princess and the Outlaw

by Leanne Banks

  He frowned as he luxuriated in her naked body against his. He’d thought that once he took her, he would be okay. He would be rid of the itch that plagued him day and night for her. But it hadn’t worked. Now that he’d taken her, it was almost as if he was more committed. He wanted her more.

  That was strange as hell.

  He slid his hand over her crazy, curly hair. She sighed and the sound did something crazy to his gut. He felt incredibly protective of her. More so now. He knew she was mostly asleep, but her hand closed over his, as if she were protecting him. The notion was amusing, but the gesture stole his heart.

  * * *

  The rude ping of his cell phone awakened Nic. It took a few pings, but he finally recognized the sound. Grabbing his cell phone from the bedside table, he pulled it up to his ear. “Yes,” he said.

  “Nic,” his father said. “Your mother’s in trouble. She needs help. The regular doctor can’t be reached.”

  Nic sat up straight in bed. “What’s wrong?”

  “Her belly’s distended. She’s in pain,” his father said.

  “I’ll take care of it,” Nic said. “I’ll be there soon.”

  Pippa opened her gloriously blue, groggy eyes. “What’s wrong?”

  “Amelie is having problems. Her belly’s distended.”

  Pippa frowned, rising in the bed. “Oh, no. Your doctor isn’t available?”

  Nic scowled. “He should have been. She may need to have some sort of draining from fluid buildup. I may have to find another doctor.”

  Pippa blinked, then frowned again. “If it takes too long, maybe I can find another doctor.”

  “Who?” he asked.

  “My brother-in-law, Ryder McCall,” she said.

  “Won’t that cause problems for you?” he asked.

  “What’s more important?” she asked. “My problems, or your mother’s?”

  * * *

  Two hours later, they were on a plane, in different rows, to Chantaine. Even though she wasn’t sitting next to him, Pippa could feel Nic’s tension reverberating throughout the jet. She wished she could help him, but ultimately, she knew she couldn’t. Ultimately, she knew Amelie would die. And she would die soon. The question was how could they make Amelie’s passing easy. The jet landed in Chantaine and she exited the plane ahead of Nic.

  Needing to get away from the watchful eye of Giles, her security man, she made a quick trip to the ladies’ room.

  Nic called her on her cell. “I can take her to a clinic, but that won’t guarantee her privacy. The news could get out that she’s here.”

  “Wait,” she said. “Let me see what I can do.”

  She took several deep breaths, then dialed the number for her brother-in-law, Ryder. He immediately answered.

  “Ryder McCall,” he said.

  “This is Pippa,” she said. “Don’t reveal who you’re speaking to. It’s an emergency.”

  He paused a half beat. “How can I help you?”

  “There’s a cancer patient who needs some kind of draining. I’m hoping you can help.”

  He paused again. “Where can I meet you?”

  Pippa gave him the address. An hour later, she arrived at the cottage and met with Nic. “Ryder is coming.”

  “Can he help?” he asked as they stood in the den. Amelie was in the bedroom, bloated and suffering.

  Paul banged his crutch on the floor. “She’s in pain. What’s taking so damn long?” he demanded.

  “Ryder will be here any moment,” Pippa tried to reassure him.

  “Ryder?” Paul echoed. “Who the hell is Ryder? What kind of doctor is named Ryder?”

  Seconds later, Pippa’s brother-in-law strode into the house. He met Pippa’s gaze. “How sick is she?” he asked.

  “She’s terminal,” she said in a low voice. “We want to keep her as comfortable as possible,” she said.

  Ryder met her gaze. “You should share this with your family,” he said.

  “My family wouldn’t understand,” she said. “You know how much they hate the Lafittes.”

  “I don’t understand the grudge,” Ryder muttered.

  “I need your help and your confidence,” she said.

  “The first is easy. The second is not. Soon, you must tell your family about this,” he said.

  Pippa felt her stomach twist. “There’s enough trouble today,” she said. “Please help Amelie.”

  Moments later, Goldie drove Amelie to a local clinic where Ryder performed the procedure that would bring her relief.

  Just a few hours passed and Amelie was brought home.

  “Thank you,” Nic said, clearly weary from the whole experience. “How much trouble will this cause you?”

  Pippa shrugged. “Ryder will give me some time. It’s more important that Amelie is okay.”

  Nic’s gaze grew shuttered. “You know it’s only a matter of time for her,” he said.

  “I know that,” she said. “But I want her to be as comfortable as possible.”

  He took her hand and clasped it for a long moment. “How did I get so damn lucky to know you?”

  She smiled. “That’s an excellent question. I feel the same way about you.”

  * * *

  In the middle of the night, Pippa returned to the palace. Happily enough, she didn’t have to endure a screening from her security detail. Unfortunately that didn’t extend to Bridget. Her sister could out-snoop any P.I., and Pippa was doomed to face her questions.

  “How was the count? Was he a prick? Was he determined to get into your pants?” she asked as Pippa gulped down her first coffee of the day.

  “He was lovely. Just older. We both realized that he was still in love with his wife and he should take his time before getting involved with anyone else even though he was lonely.”

  Bridget blinked. “Really?”

  Pippa nodded. “Really.”

  “So what did you do for the rest of your trip in Capri?”

  “I took a tour,” Pippa said.

  “A tour?” Bridget echoed, chagrined. “The least the count could have done was to give you a proper tour of Capri.”

  “I didn’t want him to do it,” Pippa said. “He was a sweet man, but I used up all my patience during the two days I spent with him. I just needed to take a break after that.”

  “I suppose I can understand that. I feel bad that you’ve experienced such bad matchups from Stefan and me,” Bridget said.

  “There are worse things,” Pippa said.

  “True,” Bridget said. “Ryder went out last night to help a terminal cancer patient.”

  Pippa’s stomach clenched. “How terrible.”

  Bridget shook her head. “He has a difficult job.”

  Pippa nodded. “Yes, he does,” she murmured.

  Bridget shrugged. “Well, did you enjoy Capri? I hate to think the whole trip was a waste.”

  Pippa nodded again. “Yes, I got to see the Blue Grotto. It was amazing.”

  “Did you really take a tour?” Bridget asked.

  “Yes,” Pippa said. “The sight of it was amazing. Worth the crowd.”

  Bridget shook her head. “Better you than me. I would love to see it, but I couldn’t stand the crowds.”

  “It wasn’t that crowded when I was there,” Pippa said. “I guess I got lucky.”

  “Did the guides sing for you?” Bridget asked.

  “‘Bella Notte,’” she said with a smile.

  “How romantic,” Bridget said. “A shame you didn’t have a handsome man accompanying you.”

  “It was beautiful,” Pippa said.

  Bridget sighed. “You’re a saint. You know how to make the best of everything.”

  “I would never call myself
a saint,” Pippa said.

  “That’s because you don’t know what demons the rest of us are,” Bridget said with a dirty giggle.

  “You overstate your evil,” Pippa said. “Most of us just do the best we can.”

  “That attitude is what makes you a saint,” Bridget told her.

  Guilt stabbing at her. She was lying to her family. “Please don’t call me a saint. I’m not worthy of that,” Pippa said.

  Bridget tilted her head, studying Pippa’s face. “If you insist,” she said. “But if anyone ever deserved sainthood—”

  “It wouldn’t be me,” Pippa said in a flat voice.

  * * *

  Stefan wouldn’t meet with her the following day. His assistant said he was too busy. After soldiering through her brother’s romantic aspirations for her with the count, Pippa was more than peeved, so she took a rare move. She sent him an email and text. In general, the family was instructed not to bother Stefan with personal texts. She usually respected the instruction. After all, she knew he had a terribly demanding schedule and she didn’t want to add to his burden. Today, her patience wore thin.

  Happy birthday to me. I’m moving out and ditching my security. Cheers, Pippa.

  Seconds later, she received a text from Stefan. I order you not to make any changes before you and I have an opportunity to talk.

  She sent a return text. Apologies. You used up your orders when you tried to match me up with a man nearly the age of our father. Ciao.

  Then she turned off her phone. Pippa felt a rush of adrenaline race through her. Her heart hammered against her rib cage. She was so rarely defiant. She exulted in the feeling. For a moment. Then she realized she needed to find a place to live. Immediately.

  She spent the morning making calls to apartments, eliminating those without a security gate. By afternoon, she had a list of properties and made visits. At five-thirty, she signed a lease for a one-bedroom apartment. It cost a little more than she’d hoped, but the situation was perfect for her. Now if she could just ditch her security detail.

  Pippa finally turned on her phone again, dreading the incoming voice mails and messages. She was immediately deluged by messages from Stefan, some of which had been written in all capital letters. She deleted them without reading and sent one last message regarding her security and the fact that she was ready to make a press release regarding her status change in security.

  A half beat later, her phone rang, and her stomach immediately tightened. Pippa saw that it was Stefan and considered pushing the ignore button. Coward. Scowling at the truth in the accusation, she picked up the call. “Good evening, Your Royal Highness,” she said.

  “What in bloody hell has gotten into you?” Stefan demanded. “I realize getting you together with the count was a stretch, but your overreaction is totally unnecessary.”

  “It’s not an overreaction. I just turned twenty-five,” she said.

  “But you’ve never complained before,” Stefan said. “I can’t allow you to move out and dismiss your security. Are you sure you’re not having some sort of women’s issue?”

  If his pompous attitude weren’t so offensive, she would have laughed. “Pretend I’m male and this will all seem overdue,” she said.

  “But you’re not. You’re my youngest sister and it’s my duty to protect you.”

  Her heart softened. “That’s so sweet, Stefan, and I do appreciate it, but I will die of suffocation if I stay at the palace. It’s time for me to go.”

  “I don’t understand this. You’ve always been so reasonable,” he said.

  “Acquiescent,” she corrected. “I feel like Rapunzel, but with bad hair.”

  Stefan sighed. “At least continue your security.”

  “No. My security is a leash. It’s unnecessary except when I make appearances assigned by the palace. Trust me, the citizens of Chantaine will cheer when they see another expense deducted by the palace.”

  “They won’t know about it until after the fact,” Stefan said and swore. “Promise you’ll still attend family dinners,” he added.

  “I will,” she said, her heart softening again. “You’re so busy you won’t notice that I’m gone.”

  “I already notice,” he said.

  Pippa felt her eyes burn with tears. Her emotions caught her off guard, but she refused to give in to them. “I promise to babysit your new child,” she said. “None of the new generation of Devereauxs will escape my terrible singing voice.”

  Stefan laughed. “I love you, Pippa.”

  Pippa’s heart caught. For her hardnosed brother to admit such feelings aloud was monumental. It was all she could do to choke the words through her throat. “And I love you.”

  They hung up, and Pippa began to weep.

  The following day, she enlisted the help of security to help her move into her apartment. She was able to make her move under the radar of Bridget because her sister was busy with the construction of the new so-called ranch. Pippa didn’t want her security man to get a hernia, so she insisted he get help.

  By noon, she was moved into her apartment. Surprisingly enough, she had more room in her new quarters than her previous suite at the palace. She felt a strange combination of relief and anxiety.

  Sinking down onto the antique sofa that seemed so out of place in her new surroundings, she took a deep breath. She was free. That was what she’d wanted. Right?

  A knock on the door startled her. She rose, looked through the peephole and saw Nic standing outside her door. She whipped the door open. “How did you find me? And how did you get through security?”

  “Goldie,” he said with a shrug. “You gonna invite me in?”

  Fighting a sudden, strange awkwardness, she nodded. “Of course.”

  He stepped inside and glanced around. “Downsizing?” he asked.

  “Actually the apartment is larger than my quarters at the palace,” she said, folding her arms over her chest.

  “Really,” he said more than asked as he glanced around the apartment. “Did they put you in the palace dungeon or something?”

  She laughed. “No, but I had no children, so I didn’t need a larger suite. How did Goldie find out about my move?”

  Nic shrugged. “Goldie has his ways. I don’t question him. He just gets the job done. Why didn’t you tell me about your plans for the big move?”

  “Besides the fact that I didn’t know if it would all work out, I don’t owe anyone an explanation about my plans,” she said.

  He gave a low whistle and dipped his head. “As you say, Your Highness.”

  She wrinkled her nose at his response. “Truthfully, would you feel the need to make explanations about your own living arrangements?”

  He met her gaze and gave another shrug. “Touché. I’m just curious what inspired all this.”

  “It’s been a long time coming,” she said, walking toward the balcony window. “Stefan fought it every inch of the way. I know he means well, but it will take him a long time to understand what I said about feeling like Rapunzel with very bad hair.”

  “I like your hair,” Nic said.

  She laughed, her heart warming at his comment. “That’s not the point. I must confess I’m a bit worried that it was so easy for Goldie to find me. If he can get through the security, others could, too.”

  “Not likely,” Nic said. “Many foreign nations could learn a lot from Goldie.”

  “But how did you get through?” she asked.

  “I’m interested in buying the entire complex,” he said.

  Pippa blinked. “Pardon me?”

  “It’s just a story, but you never know,” he said. “Have you ordered pizza?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “It’s a tradition. Whenever you move, you order pizza for dinner because you’re t
oo tired for anything else,” he said.

  “I hadn’t thought of it, but—”

  “It’s on me,” he said with a sexy smile. “Because I didn’t get here fast enough to help you move in.”

  Her heart softened. “That’s very nice,” she said.

  “I have ulterior motives,” he confessed. “I want you to share it with me.”

  “I can do that,” she said.

  Forty-five minutes later they sat with their feet propped on the boxes, munching on a loaded pizza. “I would have chosen vegetarian,” Pippa said, but took a bite of her second slice anyway.

  Nic shook his head. “No. Moving day turns everyone into a carnivore.”

  “If you say so,” she said, smiling at him. “What made you put Goldie on me?”

  “When I didn’t hear from you, I got worried. I didn’t know how hard your family would be on you once they learned about your relationship with the Lafittes.”

  “They still don’t know,” she said, taking a long draw from her glass of water.

  He shot her a look of disbelief. “You sure?”

  “Reasonably sure. I can’t believe neither Stefan nor Bridget would be able to hold back their opinions if they knew. They’re both extremely outspoken,” she said.

  “Bet Stefan hated that you moved out. I don’t think he thought you would go through with it,” he said.

  “Hate is a mild term for it,” she said, smiling at him. “And you’re right. He didn’t believe I would go through with it even though I’d warned him.”

  He grinned at her in return. “I’m surprised the palace didn’t disintegrate from his temper tantrum.”

  “The palace has endured temper tantrums over the course of several centuries,” she said. “I must confess I wonder if Stefan has cracked a few walls.”

  “Well, he’s turning the tide. He’s no playboy prince,” Nic said. “That kind of will is going to shake some foundations.”

  Pippa nodded. “That’s a good way of saying it. Stefan has fought to overcome my father’s reputation.”

  “I’d say he’s doing a pretty damn good job.”

  “He is. I’ve tried to support him, but I had to move away from the palace. I couldn’t stand the restraints anymore.”