by Dana Marton
Arpad had a bottle of water for her, and let her drink slowly as Lazlo held her.
Miklos was waving the chopper away, then strode closer. “I’ll take her,” he offered. “No offense, but you look a mite the worse for wear, brother.”
But Lazlo moved forward. Only when she grew even more listless in his arms did he realize his brothers were stronger and could walk faster with her. He agreed to let them take turns.
“The guards?” Janos asked. “Where in hell were they when all of this was happening? Where are they now, for that matter? We tried to reach them over the radio as soon as the report about the boat came in, but they didn’t respond.”
“We managed to run into a couple of murderous castaways. If you put together a recovery team, I’ll lead them to the bodies in a minute.”
“What do you mean castaways?” Benedek drew up an eyebrow, as if Lazlo were making all this up.
“From the Sagro Prison break?” Istvan, too, had that look of incredulity in his eyes.
“Sagro Prison?” It was Lazlo’s turn for questions.
“Three inmates broke out of Sagro Prison a couple of days ago. There’s a massive manhunt going on for them on the mainland,” Istvan explained.
Lazlo thought for a few seconds. “Could be them.” The circumstances and timing certainly matched.
“How on earth did they get here? Sagro is miles away. They didn’t even have a boat from what the news reports are saying.”
“They found a way.” Then a thought struck him. “How did you get here so fast?” Lazlo asked Arpad, the oldest of his siblings, the crown prince.
“Your boat was found off the Italian coast. A fisherman reported a sunk boat in about twenty feet of water. The Italian authorities contacted us about an hour ago. As soon as they said the name of the boat we got going.”
He looked at Milda, but she didn’t seem to have heard Arpad’s words. Good. She didn’t need that burden right now on top of everything else. “I’ve acted—” He looked down at his feet. “I’m to blame and nobody else.”
Arpad opened his mouth, but Istvan lifted a hand to cut off his protest.
Nobody spoke until they reached the beach, except for monosyllabic instructions when they passed Milda over among them, trying to work out what would be optimum for speed. Then they walked out of the last olive grove, and the medical teams descended on the castaways.
Lazlo told them about the possible poisoning so they knew what to look for, ordering them to give her their full attention, and not allowing anyone to touch him. But Arpad ordered one medic to stay, and there was no arguing with that. He never pulled rank with his brothers as a rule. But now that he had, the medic had to obey. Arpad was the crown prince. He outranked everyone here.
“What happened? You were supposed to come here on a fantasy date.” Istvan spoke once Milda was carried out of hearing distance.
Lazlo glared at his brothers, who surrounded him in a ring while the medic worked on him.
“You set me up. Don’t think I’m forgiving you for that. What happened to the code of loyalty? What happened to the Brotherhood of the Crown?” Irritation came swiftly. He didn’t want them fussing over him like the old ladies of the court, for heaven’s sake. He needed to go after Milda and see how she was faring.
Janos drew up an eyebrow. “The plan was for you to spend two weeks on a Mediterranean island with three of the most beautiful women in the country. We didn’t think you’d complain.”
Lazlo kept up the glare, but glanced toward Milda. Another medic was putting an IV into her arm. “They weren’t more beautiful than Milda,” he murmured under his breath, without thinking. Then wished he hadn’t when he caught his brothers exchanging glances.
“So you noticed her at last?” Miklos bumped him in the shoulder. “Sorry,” he said to the medic, who missed with Lazlo’s IV.
“No problem, Your Highness. Almost done.”
Lazlo kicked some sand toward his brother, the movement making the medic miss again. Not that he would tell them to stay still. The privileges of being a prince. “For your information, I noticed her from the beginning,” Lazlo told his brothers, and stilled long enough for the man to get the needle into his arm. He seemed relieved.
“More like took off running every time you noticed her coming,” Benedek, his twin, teased.
“I’m sorry I left you two stranded here. I had no idea you wouldn’t be safe.” Istvan at least had the sense to look pained. He was the most introverted among the brothers. For him, being stuck on the island with a bunch of women would truly have been torture. He loved the ruins, though. He’d conducted several digs here at the beginning of his career. “If I knew you and Milda were in danger… I just thought it would be, you know, romantic.” He flashed a remorseful look.
Lazlo shook his head. “Only you would think that a deserted island with a bunch of old ruins is romantic.” Then his brain backpedaled. “What do you mean, Milda and I? As far as you knew, I was supposed to be stuck here with the ladies.”
“I had some second thoughts about the setup. I called to warn you.”
The others scoffed. Miklos said, “Good to know that you could be trusted with a secret.”
“I never got a call,” Lazlo told him.
“Lady Szilvia answered your phone. She told me what happened on the island and that they were on the boat, heading back to the mainland,” Istvan clarified.
“And the reason why you didn’t come to rescue us immediately was what?” Lazlo snapped at him, anger gathering deep inside, when he thought the nightmare of the past couple of days could have been completely avoided.
Istvan’s forehead furrowed. “For one, I knew the island was secured. Miklos took care of that. I believed that you were safe. And I was glad for Milda,” he added sheepishly.
“What are you talking about?” Lazlo looked around. All five of his brothers looked guilty.
“She would be perfect for you,” Benedek put in. “Rayne said so.”
Miklos cleared his throat. “Judi keeps telling me the same thing.”
“Absolutely not,” he snapped, more so because the realization that he was falling for her was still too new to him. He hadn’t even shared it with her. He didn’t want to share it with his brothers—not yet anyway. He couldn’t stand it that his feelings were so transparent. He used to be better at keeping secrets. He’d always pitied men who wore their feelings on their sleeves.
She was smiling at him from a few meters away, as the paramedics poked and prodded her, her amazing eyes shining out of her grimy face. And he felt his heart turn over in his chest and his brain go all mushy. His body went all slack.
“Another one bites the dust,” Benedek said next to him with a grin.
“Any guess as to what happened to the boat?” he asked.
“They found a hole in the hull,” Arpad said, his voice grim.
Lazlo’s limbs grew cold despite the heat.
“Explosives,” Miklos added.
He saw red, his hands tightening into fists. “The damn Freedom Council.” He got to his feet, despite the protesting medic who was running behind him with the IV bag as he paced. “They poisoned some of the food we brought,” he said, then told them that story.
And it was his brothers’ turn to look grim. “When you said poison, I thought she ate some poisonous fruit,” Janos put in, his face etched in anger.
“So we do have one of their men in the palace. I knew I recognized that voice in the catacombs,” Benedek said, looking pensive.
“But now we know it’s someone with access to the kitchen. That narrows it down considerably.” Miklos scratched his chin. “God help the bastard when I catch him.”
The same sentiment sat on all his brothers’ faces, and Lazlo suspected on his own as well. His only thought was how to get to the bastard first.
“If we’d known—” Arpad began to say, his tone turning to apologetic.
But Lazlo shook his head. “Never mind that now. It’s ov
er. Milda’s recovery is the most important thing.” But the Freedom Council was going to get its comeuppance. Too many good men and women had died because of them already.
“The gloves are off,” Miklos murmured under his breath, then he said as he turned to them, “The second we reach home, I’m beginning a palace-wide investigation. I’ll personally interrogate every member of the staff if I have to. The traitor will be found.”
“I’ll be right there to help,” Lazlo said, and the murderous looks on his brothers’ faces told him they stood ready to do their share to once and for all take care of the rebels.
His attention returned to the women he’d last seen driving off in his boat. “You suppose there’s hope for the ladies?”
“Not after this much time. Even if they didn’t get hurt in the explosion, there was a storm that night, with strong currents. They would have been washed out to sea.” Arpad’s voice was as somber as his face. “I’ll make sure to personally notify the families. Each was being considered as a possible royal bride.”
Lazlo winced.
Arpad clapped him on the shoulder.
Lazlo didn’t say anything. The ladies had left the island in a huff because of him. He glanced at Milda, hoping she hadn’t heard this last bit of news. She, too, would feel guilty, which was the last thing she needed at the moment. But judging from the tears rolling down her face, she had heard everything.
He took the IV bag from the medic and walked over to her. “Hey, it’s not your fault.”
Tears filled her dusky blue eyes as she whispered, “Isn’t it?”
“Don’t think about it now.” He gathered her into his arms as much as the medics would allow. “Just rest and heal.”
She burrowed against his chest, and it was the most wonderful feeling in the world. Until she said, “You were right. I shouldn’t be doing this. I’m going home. I quit.”
It was the one thing he’d been asking of her nonstop for the past five months, the words he’d thought would make him deliriously happy. Except, he felt as if his heart was being ripped out. He didn’t care a whit about his brothers’ knowing glances as he tightened his arms around her.
Chapter Twelve
Milda looked out at the majestic mountains in the distance, feeling small in the endless landscape. She grabbed the carved stone railing and held on tight. So many things overwhelmed her—the mountains; the remote hunting castle where Lazlo had brought her to recover; Lazlo’s presence; her guilt over what had happened on the island; the thought that she would be leaving soon and probably never see Lazlo again.
Soft, veil-like clouds gathered above. One looked like a castle. The other… With that curve on the bottom, the other looked very much like her grandmother’s face. What would she say if she could see Milda now?
She let go of the stone, blinked hard and turned back toward the double French doors that connected the balcony with her opulent suite. She had to get herself together. She needed to make some decisions. Or rather, she had to follow through on the decisions she’d made during the past two weeks since they’d been rescued off the island, during all those dark nights she couldn’t sleep.
Unbidden, her gaze drifted to the right, to Lazlo’s suite. And she caught him watching her through his window with that unfathomable look she’d been seeing on his face a lot lately.
He strode outside once he realized that she’d seen him. He was sliding a cell phone into the inner pocket of his jacket. “Miklos sends his regards.”
“Any news at the palace?”
“They found traces of explosives around the hole in the boat. Different manufacturers have different markers in their material so it can be traced if those explosives are used in any criminal activity. The charge used to sabotage the boat was made of a faulty batch. If it weren’t, it would have exploded much sooner, when I was on the boat. Anyway, only a few hundred kilos were sold before the company realized the mistake and re called it. Miklos is working on getting the client list.”
Which meant that they were likely to find a link to the Freedom Council at last, a link they could follow. Miklos was working the kitchen angle as well, investigating the poisoning. That would be another link. She could tell that Lazlo was excited.
She was happy for him. She could just never be happy with him. Too many things stood between them.
“I’m leaving.” She was completely recovered from the poisoning—thank God they’d been rationing their food so she hadn’t eaten a full portion. Her six-month assignment would be up in another week or so. She had no intention of making any further effort to match the prince, and hadn’t once brought up the issue since they’d returned from the island.
A happy client had called her a puzzle master once, someone who had an uncanny ability to recognize pieces that fit together. But Lazlo was a piece that constantly kept changing shape just to spite her.
He was unpredictable, too passionate by half, too easygoing, too focused on the pleasures of life instead of duty—all things that she’d thought she didn’t like about him, all things that she’d thought he should change.
Except, at some point she’d come to understand that these qualities made him the man he was. The man she’d fallen in love with.
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
“Stay. I’ll marry.” He vaulted over the railing that separated their balconies. He landed a few short feet from her.
Her heart about stopped.
“Which one?” The three ladies had been found. The Lady Adel had broken both legs in the explosion, but the other two had dragged her to shore. They were all smart enough to wear their life vests, which had saved their lives. The ladies had been recuperating in a small Italian town.
With both of her legs in a cast, the Lady Adel couldn’t travel, and the other two decided to stay there with her, out of solidarity. Lazlo had visited them the day before.
She tried not to be jealous. She wasn’t succeeding.
He didn’t answer her question.
The knife in her heart twisted.
Because the reason for no longer matching the prince wasn’t simply her regret over what happened on the island and what happened with the ladies. She couldn’t match him because she was in love with him. She’d broken the number-one rule of matchmaking. “I’m leaving,” she repeated. “Tonight, if there’s a flight.”
She hadn’t planned on going until tomorrow, but with a royal engagement coming, she felt she couldn’t get out of there fast enough. She felt like she couldn’t breathe.
“You’d quit on me?” He stepped closer, his stance and face rigid all of a sudden.
“I quit the business. You were right.” She drew a slow breath. “When I thought that the ladies were dead, I had plenty of time to think about how I ended up where I was. Truth is, going into the family business was the easiest option I had. I already knew how to do it. My following in her footsteps made my grandmother happy, and I wanted to make her happy. And after she died…”
She blinked back a tear.
Lazlo took another step toward her and took her hand.
“After she died, I had no other family. The business became my family. I thought it was who I was born to be.” She lifted her gaze to his. “But maybe I’m not. Except that, if I’m not, then who am I?” She’d been struggling with that thought all morning.
“You’re who you choose to be,” he told her.
She scoffed. “Easy for you to say. You’re a prince.”
“And you’re a vibrant, energetic, honest, intelligent woman.”
He was making everything worse. How was she sup posed to not fall in love with him even more when he told her things like that?
She stepped back from him. “So you’re getting married.” She needed to remind herself of that before she threw herself at him and begged for one last kiss.
“Hopefully. There hasn’t been a proposal yet.”
“The Queen will be happy.”
“I’m not doing it for the Queen.” He stepped after
her. “Stay.”
She looked away from him, out at the mountains, not wanting him to see the pain that sat in her eyes. “I can’t.” She was determined to save herself that torture.
She couldn’t watch him with someone else. “I’m going home to figure out who I am. Seems like something I should have done ten years ago, but it’s never too late.
I’m going to have fun trying new things.” She could almost smile, as though she believed that.
“You could try being a princess. You never know, maybe it would fit.”
A cruel joke to make. She was about to admonish him, but he was going down on half-knee, pulling a velvet box from his pocket that looked shiny with age.
“The thing is,” he said, “I already know who you are. You’re the woman I love. And that’s all I need to know.” He opened the lid, revealing the most amazing pink diamond she’d ever seen, in an ornamental setting that took her breath away. “You don’t know what I had to do to get this out of the treasury,” he said when he caught her wide-eyed look. “Let me be by your side while you figure out what to do next. Then let’s do it together.”
Her head was reeling. “This is—I can’t. You’re a client.” He couldn’t be serious about this.
“Are we back to that again? Couldn’t an exception be made for a prince? I’m used to having exceptions made for me,” he added with a sexy grin.
“Why?”
“Because I love you.”
Her heart turned over in her chest. She wanted this so badly, she had trouble believing that it was happening.
“The Queen wants a noblewoman for you.”
“It’s not going to be my mother’s wedding, is it?” He brushed that concern aside with ease.
“But what will she think of me? She hired me to—”
“She’ll think you accomplished the impossible and she’ll be grateful for it. Believe me. Forget the Queen.
What do you want?” he asked then, turning serious suddenly.