Rescuing the Royal Runaway Bride

by Ally Blake

  Will could no longer feel his feet. It was as if gravity had simply stopped working. Only one way to be sure—he moved closer to the building and took a better look at the bricks. He grabbed hold of a couple and gave them a wiggle.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” she called. “Do not climb up that wall!”

  A beat, then, “Well, I can’t go in the front door. Janine will see me. And then she’ll start quoting Much Ado About Nothing. Or she’ll want to know how I know the Prince, and I’ll never get out of there—”

  “Sod it,” said Sadie, tossing a leg over the edge of the balcony.

  What? No. “You have to be kidding.”

  “I’m no damsel in distress, remember.”

  Right. It didn’t stop him from standing beneath her with his arms outstretched, ready to catch.

  A few of the bricks had seen better days, sending sprays of crumbing shale to hit the ground and turn to dust. But she made it down, feet first, pulling bougainvillaea flowers from the front of her dress.

  “You quite done?” he asked, his voice rough.

  She looked at him then, her eyes full, her whole body quaking with the kind of energy that could no doubt be seen from outer space.

  Then she was in his arms before he even knew they were moving. The scent of honeysuckle filled his senses, and the grey blah that had held him in its grip the past few days melted away.

  And then he took her face in his hands, her sweet, lovely face, and he kissed her. And kissed her. And kissed her. “I should never have let you go. No. Let me start again.”

  “I thought you started pretty well,” she said, her voice a husky croak.

  “I was right to let you go. For you can go wherever the hell you want, whenever the hell you want. What I mean is, I should never have let you go without telling you what you have come to mean to me.”

  “Okay.”

  “I’m used to being alone.”

  “Big shock.”

  He should have known she wouldn’t make this easy. But that was what he loved about her.

  What he loved about her. He loved her. Where first there was something that took up no space at all, suddenly he was inundated. Because he, a man who believed in things he could see, measure and explain, was in love.

  “What I am trying to say, if you’ll shut up and let me, is that I’m used to being alone, the way you are used to being surrounded. Your life is here. Mine is everywhere else. You are an untidy grub—”

  “While you are so fastidious I don’t know how you manage to leave the house in the morning.” Sadie blinked up at him, all sleepy-eyed, as her fingers curled into his hair, tugging at the ends every few seconds, sending shards of electricity right through him.

  Screw it.

  “I love you, Sadie.”

  The twirling stopped.

  “I am in love with you. I have all the evidence to back it up too. Physical, intellectual, anecdotal. But I don’t care. The only important thing is that I feel it, right here.”

  He slapped a hand over his heart and wished with every ounce of his being that she might believe him. Then, with a rush of inspiration that could only have come from somewhere beyond the realm of his understanding, he brought out the big guns. “‘Doubt thou the stars are fire; Doubt that the sun doth move; Doubt truth to be a liar; But never doubt I love.’”

  A little Hamlet right when it counted. She grinned and laughed, tears now streaming down her face. “I don’t doubt. I believe it,” she said. “I believe you.”

  To think this alternative reality had been out there in the universe all this time and he’d closed himself off to it. He chided himself as a man of science and vowed to explore every angle of this new discovery.

  Starting with Sadie’s mouth. Her soft, pink, delicious mouth. The sweetest taste there was.

  After an age, she pulled away, straining for breath as she rested her head against his chest. “I love you too, you know.”

  Will tipped her chin so he could look into her eyes. “I didn’t actually. But that is good to know.”

  She grinned, the grin turning into laughter. Then she let him go, flinging her arms out sideways, tipping her head to the sun. “I’m totally, madly in love with you. Which is crazy, right? That this happened. Imagine if Hugo and I had never come up with our fool plan. Imagine if we’d come to our senses earlier. Imagine if I’d never run. The chances were high that we’d have never met. There’s only one possible explanation for it. This was always in the stars.”

  “Sadie.”

  “Yes, Will,” she said on a sigh as she brought her hands to his shoulders.

  “As a man of science, I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear a word you said past ‘madly in love’. Okay?”

  “You do what you need to do. Just know that I do love you. Physically.” She lifted onto her toes to place a kiss at the corner of his mouth. “Intellectually.” She dragged a kiss over the edge of his jaw. “Anecdotally.” With that she bit down on his earlobe.

  “Good afternoon.”

  Sadie slowly edged her teeth away from Will’s ear before as one they turned to look over Sadie’s shoulder.

  A local baker was riding by on his bicycle, a bag of baguettes poking out of the basket at the back. He gave them a jaunty wave.

  “Good afternoon,” they said as one.

  “Just saw your interview on the TV,” said the baker, letting his foot drift to the pavement as he pulled to a stop. “Very nicely handled. If the rest of your generation is as savvy as our Prince, then our country is in for a grand future. Now you can hopefully get on with your lives.”

  Will’s hand drifted to Sadie’s lower back right as her hand curled around the back of his neck. She said, “Sounds like a plan to me.”

  With that the baker sat back onto his bike and rolled down the hill, whistling as he went.

  Will pressed his lips against Sadie’s ear. “Shall we? Get on with our lives?”

  She plucked a purple flower from his shoulder, then smiled into his eyes. “Let’s.”

  EPILOGUE

  SADIE WOKE UP. Sensing it was still the middle of the night, she thought about rolling over and going back to sleep but instead she stretched, hands and feet reaching for the four corners of her glorious, big new bed.

  It took up the entire platform in her bedroom in the Tower Room at La Tulipe. No canopy, no fake ivy, no net curtains. Nothing princessy about it at all.

  She’d bought the bed for Will as a gift when they’d moved in. He’d bought her the building to put it in, so fair was fair.

  She let her hands and feet relax, her breaths slowing, a smile spreading over her face as she thought about her plans for the coming day.

  There was a meeting with the architect and project manager first thing, as refurbishment was beginning in the old foyer next week—the administration offices of the brand-new Vallemont Royal Youth Theatre Company.

  As patron, Hugo had requested something dry, esoteric, modern for their first play. As chief financial officer, Natalie had told Hugo to keep his intellectual nose out of things he didn’t understand. As front office manager, Janine hadn’t stopped smiling long enough to have a decided opinion. As director, Sadie had smiled and nodded and told everyone she’d certainly take his thoughts into consideration.

  Rehearsals for Romeo and Juliet began that afternoon.

  As for the rest of La Tulipe—it would eventually become home. So far, they were living out of the Tower Room and would do for some time. The place was crumbling, with so many add-ons and temporary walls built over the years it would be like a puzzle to undo it all and bring it back to its former glory. But they had time. Years. Their whole lives.

  She breathed in deeply and rolled over, ready for sleep to come again.

  But something stopped her.

  Her eyes sprang open. She sat
bolt upright. Weak moonlight poured into the room and she struggled to make out shapes in the semi-darkness. There! By the couch. The overnight bag on the floor.

  Will was home.

  Sadie leapt out of bed and wrapped a robe around herself—black, soft, Will’s—then padded out to the balcony. The night was crystal-clear. The moon a sliver in the sky.

  She climbed the new stepladder that had been bolted to the side of the tower, used the turrets to haul herself over the top and landed with her usual lack of finesse.

  And there he sat, rubbing a hand over his beard as he finessed the mighty new telescope that took up half the roof. Maia had been retired to their London pad and lived in her own custom-built glassed-in, rooftop conservatory, for ever pointing at the sky.

  Will looked up at the reverberation of her landing. He pressed back into the seat and rubbed the eye that had been pressed against the lens. His voice was a familiar deep, wonderful rumble as he said, “Hey.”

  She couldn’t hold back. She ran. And she leapt. He caught her, strong enough not to topple as she launched herself at him.

  “When did you get back?” she asked, her voice muffled by the fact she was nestled into his neck.

  “An hour ago.”

  “Why didn’t you wake me?”

  “You know how you are.”

  “Like a Labrador puppy, all energy then...deep, deep sleep; yeah, I know. How was the trip?”

  Will had spent three days lecturing on his beloved Orion Nebula at Boston University, had hosted an international day of moon-viewing from the northern tip of Alaska, then had headed to London to record a voice-over for a BBC documentary. And it sat so well on him, he looked as if he’d just woken from eight perfect hours of sleep.

  The man was a natural phenomenon. No wonder the whole world wanted a piece of him. Thankfully Sadie had grown up with a best friend who was a wanted man. She’d learned to be a good sharer.

  “Good,” he said. “Great. Some brilliant young minds out there giving me a run for my money. I might even have found the first recipient of the new and improved Templeton Grant.”

  “Oh, Will, that’s so cool.”

  “Isn’t it just?” Will lifted a hand to push Sadie’s hair from her face.

  Her heart skittered in her chest at his touch. She wondered if it always would. She figured there was a pretty good chance.

  She settled on his lap, wrapped her arms about his neck and kissed him. Or he kissed her. They probably met somewhere in the middle, which seemed to be their way, and that was her last thought as sensation took over. Her body was all melting warmth, the chill of the night air a distant memory as they too made up for lost time.

  Light years later they pulled apart, Sadie sighing. “Now get back to work. All that data won’t record itself. I’ll just sit here quietly and do my best not to disturb you.” With that she sank her head against his chest.

  “I’m not sure my calculations will be entirely reliable.”

  “No? How about if I do this?” She wriggled a little more until she was sure she was getting the reaction she was after.

  Will picked her up as he stood. She laughed, and clung to his neck, as he stepped out of the chair, her voice carrying off into the night, over the top of the village that was now her home—their home—dissipating long before it reached the mountains beyond.

  And out there, dark beneath the bright white caps of snow above, the palace slept.

  Its story no longer her own.

  “Oh?” she said, feigning surprise. “You done for the night?”

  “Not even close,” Will rumbled as he dropped her feet to the cold stone floor.

  He chased her down the ladder and took her to bed, where he made her see stars.

  * * * * *

  Look out for the next romance story in THE ROYALS OF VALLEMONT duet

  AMBER AND THE ROGUE PRINCE

  Coming Soon!

  And if you enjoyed this story, check out these other great reads from Ally Blake

  MILLIONAIRE DAD’S SOS

  DATING THE REBEL TYCOON

  HIRED: THE BOSS’S BRIDE

  FALLING FOR THE REBEL HEIR

  All available now!

  Keep reading for an excerpt from MAROONED WITH THE MILLIONAIRE by Nina Milne.

  Join Harlequin My Rewards today and earn a FREE ebook!

  Click here to Join Harlequin My Rewards

  http://www.harlequin.com/myrewards.html?mt=loyalty&cmpid=EBOOBPBPA201602010003

  We hope you enjoyed this Harlequin Romance.

  You adore a feel-good story! Harlequin Romance offers uplifting escapes featuring real, relatable women and strong, deeply desirable men. Experience the intensity, anticipation and sheer rush of falling in love.

  Enjoy four new stories from Harlequin Romance every month!

  Connect with us on Harlequin.com for info on our new releases, access to exclusive offers, free online reads and much more!

  Other ways to keep in touch:

  Harlequin.com/newsletters

  Facebook.com/HarlequinBooks

  Twitter.com/HarlequinBooks

  HarlequinBlog.com

  Join Harlequin My Rewards and reward the book lover in you!

  Earn points for every Harlequin print and ebook you buy, wherever and whenever you shop.

  Turn your points into FREE BOOKS of your choice

  OR

  EXCLUSIVE GIFTS from your favorite authors or series.

  Click here to join for FREE

  Or visit us online to register at

  www.HarlequinMyRewards.com

  Harlequin My Rewards is a free program (no fees) without any commitments or obligations.

  Marooned with the Millionaire

  by Nina Milne

  CHAPTER ONE

  MARCUS ALRIKSON LEANED back in the ergonomic comfort of the luxurious leather chair—his one extravagance in an office he spent way too much of his time in. But needs must when the devil drove. Even when the devil was his own personal demon—the one that ensured he never lost sight of the need to succeed.

  Right now his focus was on ensuring that the royal wedding was a success. It could be argued that as Chief Advisor to the Prince of Lycander his remit didn’t include wedding planning—and in truth the bride’s dress and the groom’s choice of tie didn’t interest him in the slightest. The security of the royal nuptials, however, was very much his responsibility—after all alongside his role of Chief Advisor he also headed up Alrikson Security, a byword in security provision services across Europe.

  There was also the fact that he had a great deal of respect for Prince Frederick—the Prince was a good man, a ruler with a vision for the future of Lycander. A vision shared by Marcus.

  He focused on the screen and studied his plan. His formidable brain assessed the risks, considered the most acute of angles, searched for the tiniest of chinks in the armour of defence and protocol that surrounded the upcoming wedding extravaganza.

  In mere weeks Prince Frederick of Lycander would marry Sunita Bashwani-Greenberg, an ex-supermodel and mother of his two-year-old son Amil.

  The union was a love-match that the people of Lycander had mixed feelings about. Frederick’s ascent to the throne had been shrouded in tragedy and scandal, and it had taken him two years of fair and just rule even to begin the process of bringing the Lycandrian people round. And the throne still wobbled—Frederick had many enemies who would happily overthrow him and end Lycander’s monarchy, enemies who would sabotage the wedding.

  Not on Marcus’s watch. It was crucial that this wedding went without a hitch.

  His frown intensified as he glared at the screen, looking up only when he heard a knock on the door.

  ‘Come in.’

  A rare smile touched his lips as his sister entered the room. ‘Elvira.�
�

  ‘Hey, big bro.’

  ‘What can I do for you?’

  As always he felt a profound relief when he saw his little sister, and a sense of gratitude that her life had worked out—that she seemed to have adjusted after her shaky start. Now twenty-two, she was content and successful and in her final year of studying law at university.

  Speaking of which... His smile vanished. ‘Shouldn’t you be at lectures?’

  ‘Relax. I’m free of lectures this morning. My tutor’s ill, so I thought I’d drop in.’

  He should have known Elvira wouldn’t skip a lecture; for all his big-brother crackdown he knew that his sister took her studies seriously, and truly appreciated the opportunities life had granted her.

  No, not life. Those opportunities had come courtesy of death—the death of their criminal, alcoholic, violent parents in a fire. The same fire that a twelve-year-old Marcus had rescued his younger sister from, the identical inferno he had failed to rescue his parents from. Jonny and Alicia Brockley had perished.

  Marcus and Elvira had been adopted, and their lives had dramatically altered course. For the better. The knowledge was a permanent biting ache of guilt.

  Marcus shook his head—now was not the moment for a trip down the ravaged and torturous twists of memory lane.

  ‘Anything in particular on your mind?’ he asked as he gestured for Elvira to sit, and waited as she curled up in the comfy chair he’d sequestered from one of the many rooms of the Lycander Palace. His office was a mishmash taken from the mounds of furniture stockpiled by previous royal incumbents.

  ‘April Fotherington turned up at uni today...for “a chat”.’

  Marcus drummed his fingers on the desk in an irritated tattoo. April Fotherington was a writer for a popular upmarket celebrity magazine, and she was in the process of writing a feel-good article on the Lycander wedding. With an emphasis on feel-good. That had been the deal Marcus had made with the magazine’s editor-in-chief. In person. Emphatically.

  So a question begged. ‘Why would April need to have a chat with you? You don’t know Frederick or Sunita.’