Alex considered. What was arguing or disagreeing with Leo going to get him? Nothing. “Very clear, sir.”
“I’m sorry it’s all worked out so poorly.”
You don’t seem very sorry. “Yes, sir. I accept your...condolences.”
“Go home, Alexander.”
“Goodbye, sir.”
Leo gestured grandly to the guards. “Take him away.”
* * *
An hour later, he and his men lifted off from San Ferdinand. They flew west, out over the open sea. And then, once they were well clear of the southwestern port of Salvia, they circled back, still over water, only approaching land again when they could come in from the north.
They found a wide, dusty field dotted with olive trees several kilometers from the palace. Placid Alagonian sheep regarded them solemnly from a distance as the helicopter touched down.
Still wearing the lightweight designer suit he’d donned the day before in Montedoro, Alex got off alone. He carried a backpack with a change of clothes, a series of scale drawings of D’Alagon, some water, food bars, a computer memory stick and an iPhone.
He stood in the shade of an olive tree and watched the helicopter carrying his men rise and wheel away. Then, swiftly, he took cargo pants, a plain black T-shirt, cotton socks and sturdy shoes from the pack. He changed. He left the wrinkled suit where it fell, beneath the tree, and he set out. The time was one-fifteen in the afternoon.
It was 40 kilometers to D’Alagon. He was capable of keeping a steady, brisk pace of 6.4 kilometers per hour. If all went well, he would arrive at the palace in under seven hours. He would get there a lot faster if he caught a ride. But he’d already decided against that, against getting into a vehicle with a stranger.
He would walk it, and keep an eye out to duck for cover if he spotted anyone too official-looking. The real challenge would be getting in and getting to Lili after he reached her father’s palace.
* * *
Lili wanted to scream.
He had left.
Her father had thrown him in the dungeon overnight and then sent him away.
And Alex had gone.
Given up.
Never mind screaming. Lili wanted to break down and cry. She’d pushed him too far. She’d asked too much of him.
She never should have allowed Papa to put him in that cell. After all he had suffered, all that he had been through in Afghanistan, it had probably caused some terrible flashback, a bad bout of post-traumatic stress. It had probably damaged him immeasurably all over again.
And it was all her fault. She should have picked up the phone that first time he called, should have forgiven the hurt he’d caused her. Should have let bygones be bygones and...
She sank to the edge of her bed, shaking her head.
Really, she didn’t know what she should have done. It had seemed like the right thing, the important thing, to finally draw the line on him, to make him see that he really did have to meet her halfway.
But now, now that he had honestly tried to reach her and she had refused repeatedly to speak with him, had rebuffed him soundly several times...well, now, she just felt that she had pushed this object lesson way too far.
She picked up her cell phone and started to call him.
And then, well, somehow, she just couldn’t. Maybe tomorrow. Or the next day.
She knew now that she was going to have to be the one to make the effort, mend the breach.
It was all just too discouraging, all just so very sad.
The clock by the bed said it was after five. She would have a tray sent up. She would read romances all night long and try to lift her spirits, try not to think of poor Alex, of the damage done to him—by thugs and kidnappers.
And by his own wife.
* * *
It was a warm night. Balmy.
At nine, Lili took a long bath. Still feeling sad and lonely and out of sorts, she put on her favorite large, green, faded Ariel the Mermaid T-shirt, opened the windows and the door to the terrace to let the breeze in and climbed into bed.
She picked up her e-reader and began to read.
It was a love scene. A well-written one, too. She tried to get lost in it, but somehow, the passionate ecstasy of the lovers only made her feel more alone. She missed Alex.
She missed him terribly.
It was enough. Too much. She was calling him. She was putting an end to this awfulness now—if only he would speak to her....
No. Enough. She would try. She would make the effort. If he refused to speak with her, she would find another way to reach him.
She grabbed her cell phone and started to dial.
That was when she heard the strange scrabbling noises coming from beyond the terrace doors.
She frowned. Some animal?
Impossible.
It was several stories down to the ground. No animal could possibly have climbed...
A shadow. A...a man. There was a man on the terrace. Fear clawed at the back of her throat, kicked her heart into racing mode.
She dropped the phone and jumped from the bed, glancing frantically about for something to use as a weapon.
And then Alex appeared in the open doorway.
Chapter Fifteen
Lili gaped. “Alex?” she got out on a husk of sound.
He stepped into the room with her.
Real.
He was real. He was real and he was here with her. Now.
“Oh, my dear, sweet Lord,” she whispered. “Oh, Alex...”
He looked at her as though he never wanted to look away. And then he said, “I’ll have to talk to your father. His security is not what it should be.”
Tears filled her eyes. “Oh, Alex...”
He shrugged off a backpack, tossed it onto a chair. “Lili. God. Lili.” And then he came to her. She gasped again, put her hand to her mouth.
Real. He was dusty, sweaty and he looked tired. But he was also so very wonderfully, perfectly real.
She reached for him. He caught her hand, kissed it so tenderly. Heat sizzled up her arm just from that light, cherishing contact.
And then he sank to one knee in front of her.
She gasped again. “Oh, Alex. No. Don’t...”
He gazed up at her, eyes all warm amber light. He said, “Forgive me, Lili. I love you, Lili. Come back to me, Lili. I’ve screwed things up, I know it. I’m not worthy of you, but I do love you. You’re my light, my shining star. You gave me back my life. You gave me everything. I should have said it, said I love you, before I left for America. But I had some idea that I had to pay all my debts to the past before I could claim you, claim our future.”
“Oh, Alex...”
“And then, I didn’t call. That was very stupid.”
“Oh, yes,” she answered tenderly, her heart so full that it seemed too big for her chest. “It was. Stupid and wrong. You really should have called.”
“I couldn’t bear to. I missed you so. If I’d heard your voice...I don’t know, I just couldn’t.”
“All right. I can accept that. In the future, however...”
“Yes, I will call. If I ever leave you again. I don’t think that I could.”
She laughed then. “Of course, you could. And you will.” She sniffled, brushed a tear from her eye. “But when you do, you have to call. Communication does matter in a marriage.”
“I know. You’re right. I see that now.”
“Alex...”
“Yes. Absolutely. Anything. Name it.”
She tugged on his hand. “You can get up now.”
“Not yet. Not until you say you’ll come back to me.”
“Of course, I’ll come back to you.”
“Say it again.”
“Alex, I love you. Yes, I’ll come back to you.”
He did rise then. And he swept her into those big, strong arms and he kissed her long and thoroughly.
Then she pulled him down to sit on the bed beside her and she leaned her head on his shoulder. “I ca
n’t believe you scaled the palace wall. Are you insane? You might have fallen.”
“Shh,” he said. He stroked her hair. It felt so good. She had missed that, the simple feel of his hand stroking her hair.
“Are you hungry?”
“Shh...” He put his hand on her belly. “Fuller. He’s growing.”
“She’ll start kicking soon—and I have to know. So much. Everything. That’s what happens when you don’t call. There’s so much to catch up on....”
He chuckled and gave in. “Ask, then.”
“Did you meet with them—Devon’s parents, his brothers and sisters?”
“I did. His father was angry at first, wouldn’t speak with me. But eventually, with his mother’s help, he gave in. We talked. It was...good. Not easy, but good. Then there were Dev’s brothers and sisters. One brother was happy to talk to me. The others were unwilling. But I kept at it. In time, I...got through, I guess you could say.”
“You made financial arrangements?”
“Yes, college funds. Trusts. I know, it’s only money, but...”
“We do what we can.”
“Well said.” And he kissed her again. And then again.
And then both of them forgot for a time about talking.
It was so sweet, their reunion. Sweet and hot and wonderful.
Afterward, she drew a bath for him. And then joined him in it.
She lay back against his broad, warm chest and dared to suggest, “It would make quite a book, don’t you think? The story of your capture and imprisonment, of how you went to America and met Devon’s family...”
He shook his head, pressed his lips against her hair. “I don’t think so. I lived it. It was enough. At least not now. Not for a good long while.”
“So eventually you do want to write again?”
“I have been writing.”
She took his hand, placed it on her belly. It felt so good there. “Oh, Alex, that’s wonderful.”
He cradled her breast, kissed the side of her neck. “I started a whole new story, something completely different. I found it took my mind off missing you so much, off the tensions with Dev’s family. It’s an adventure story. Two star-crossed lovers, marooned on a Mediterranean island...”
Water sloshed over the tub rim as she turned around to lie against him, face-to-face. “You’re teasing me. You would never write a story like that. Why, that’s almost...a romance.”
“Lili, my love.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “It is a romance. I brought a copy with me, of what I have so far. On a memory stick.”
She blinked. “Alex, are you serious?”
“Later, you can read it, see what you think. I mean, if you would like to take a look...”
“Alex, I would love to read whatever you’ve written, especially a romance. But...oh, Alex. What has gotten into you?”
“I think you know.” He said it so tenderly. And then, “I love you, Lili.”
“And I love you, Alex.”
“We’re a family now.” He said it so proudly.
She whispered, “Forever, Alex.”
“Yes.” His amber gaze met hers, unwavering. “That’s it. That’s exactly it, what I’ve been longing for. You and me, Lili. Together. For the rest of our lives.”
Epilogue
“We miss you,” Lili said.
Arabella clutched the phone a little tighter and stared at the cornucopia decoration that Charlotte, her aide and companion, had arranged on the breakfast room table. It was the day before Thanksgiving.
But Belle was having a hard time feeling thankful. She was at her dear friend Anne’s house in the States, in Raleigh, North Carolina. Anne was very ill and not expected to last out the week.
At home in Montedoro, they would all be looking forward to the Thanksgiving feast. At home in Montedoro at the Prince’s Palace where Belle had grown up, they’d always celebrated the American holiday. Belle’s father, the prince consort, had been born in America on a ranch called Bravo Ridge. The ranch was in the state of Texas, not far from the city of San Antonio.
Her father’s childhood had not been a happy one. He’d told them the stories of his lonely boyhood. He had six brothers, but he’d never felt close to any of them. His father, James Bravo, had been an angry, bitter, violent man. And his mother, Elizabeth, was strange and distant, her eyes always sad and far away. As a boy, Belle’s father had dreamed of a happier future, of the family he would make when he became a man, a family where they had joyful Christmases. And real Thanksgivings.
Her father had that family now, a family that gratefully celebrated Thanksgiving.
“Belle?” Lili asked. “Are you there?”
“I’m here, Lili,” she said into the phone. “Sorry. Feeling a little down, I guess.”
“I keep praying.”
“Hoping for a miracle, hmm?”
“Oh, Belle, yes. A miracle. Absolutely.”
Dear Lili. Always looking on the bright side. Belle asked, “How are you feeling?”
“Fat. Very fat.” Lili was having twins. A boy and a girl.
Belle chuckled. They’d had a rough time of it at the first, Lili and Alex. But they had made it through. “I’m so glad, so happy for you. And for Alex.”
Lili agreed. “Yes, so am I. So very glad.”
“You deserve your happiness, Lili. You both do. Happy Thanksgiving.”
“Thank you.” Lili didn’t say it back to her. Belle was grateful for that. It wasn’t a happy Thanksgiving for her this year. There was no way that it could be. “How’s the little one, Benjamin?” Lili asked.
Anne’s son was just eighteen months old. “Adorable. Perfect. And napping at the moment.”
“Give him extra kisses for me.”
Belle smiled at the thought. “I will. I promise.”
They chatted for a while longer and then they said goodbye.
Belle set down the phone and felt in her pocket. The envelope was there, a reminder of encroaching shadows. A talisman in a way.
Anne had pressed it into her hand just yesterday. “Read it after I’m gone,” she had said.
Belle closed her fingers around the envelope and pulled it out of her pocket. Just a plain white envelope with her name written in Anne’s forward-slanting hand across the front. It was already looking a bit worn and wrinkled. Somehow, Belle couldn’t stop herself from touching it, from hauling it out and holding it up to the light, wondering what was on the sheet of paper inside, before stuffing it back in her pocket again.
Read it after I’m gone....
Five little words. Three of them terrible: after I’m gone....
Charlotte stuck her head in from the hall, her eyes ringed with shadows, her face drawn. Belle knew that her own face, though younger, bore the same lines of weariness. “She’s asking for you.”
Belle eased the envelope back into her pocket and straightened her sagging shoulders. She put on a smile. “I’m coming.” She went down the hall to her friend’s bedroom, the letter crackling against her pocket as she walked.
Read it after I’m gone....
A princess by birth, but a nurse by profession, Belle longed for a miracle, but she knew the hard truth.
It would not be long now.
* * * * *
Watch for Belle’s story,
THE RANCHER’S CHRISTMAS PRINCESS,
coming in December 2012,
only from Harlequin Special Edition.
* * * * *
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Chapter One
It happened too quickly for him to even think about it.
One minute, in a moment of exasperated desperation—because he hadn’t yet bought a gift for Caroline’s birthday—Cody found himself walking into the refurbished antique store that had, up until a few months ago, been called The Tattered Saddle.
The next minute, he was hurrying across the room and managed—just in time—to catch the young woman who was tumbling off a ladder.
Before he knew it, his arms were filled with the soft curves of the same young woman.
She smelled of lavender and vanilla, nudging forth a sliver of a memory he couldn’t quite catch hold of.
That was the way Cody remembered it when he later looked back on the way his life had taken a dramatic turn toward the better that fateful morning.
When he’d initially walked by the store’s show window, Cody had automatically looked in. The shop appeared to be in a state of semi-chaos, but it still looked a great deal more promising than when that crazy old coot Jasper Fowler ran it.
Cody vaguely recalled hearing that the man hadn’t really been interested in making any sort of a go of the shop. The whole place had actually just been a front for a money-laundering enterprise. At any rate, the antique shop had been shut down and boarded up in January, relegated to collecting even more dust than it had displayed when its doors had been open to the public.
What had caught his eye was the notice Under new ownership in the window and the store’s name—The Tattered Saddle—had been crossed out. But at the moment, there was no new name to take its place. He had wondered if that was an oversight or a ploy to draw curious customers into the shop.
Well, if it was under new ownership, maybe that meant that there was new old merchandise to choose from. And that, in turn, might enable him to find something for his sister here. As he recalled, Caroline was into old things. Things that other people thought of as junk and wanted to discard, his sister saw potential and promise in.
The Prince She Had to Marry Page 19