The Prince's Runaway Lover (Men of the Zodiac)

by Robin Covington

  “So you admit there’s an us?”

  “Nicky…” Her voice broke on his name and he felt like the world’s biggest asshole. He was making her cry when all he wanted was to make her happy. “…There’s always been an us.” Isabel grabbed his shirt, the scrape of her nails sharp against the skin under his cotton T-shirt. “It’s why I did the most selfish thing I have ever done in my life. Why I let myself indulge in this fantasy. I’m sorry.”

  He shoved her away, anger and hurt blazing in his chest. Her hand flew out to steady herself as she sank down into her chair. Isabel’s dark fall of curls tumbled forward, hiding her face from him, but nothing could conceal the shake of her shoulders, the deep gulping, watery breaths. Nick wanted to lash out at something, to bring this jet down with his bare hands, but the sight of his Isabel was too much to take. Each shudder, each sob was reaching inside him and ripping his soul out of his body. That was fine, it was hers anyway.

  The weight of it all brought him to his knees in front of her again and he reached out for her as she looked up. Tear-streaked cheeks and smudged mascara did nothing to reduce just how beautiful she was and his own breath caught and twisted painfully in his chest. Nick leaned forward and the magnetic pull between them drew her to him and he tortured himself one more time.

  Her mouth was warm underneath his and she never hesitated when he pressed against her lips with his tongue. She opened to him, as sweet and giving as always. There were no secrets between them when they were like this.

  He was not a prince. She was not a mystery.

  They were just Nick and Isabel. The way it should be.

  He pulled her off the seat and into his lap, weaving his fingers in the silken curls of her hair, anchoring her in place as he deepened the kiss. Isabel’s nails scraped at the nape of his neck, dug into the flesh of his shoulders. He’d take it, because the pain proved that this was impacting her as much as it was him and that gave him hope.

  She wouldn’t walk away from this.

  The pilot announced they were landing in five minutes and requested they return to their seats and buckle in. Nick refused to let her go, pressing kisses to her mouth, her cheeks, her neck. He tugged her closer, burying his face in her hair when Isabel wrapped her arms around him and shook with the force of her sobs.

  Nick held her through the descent, the touchdown of the wheels on the tarmac and the slowdown of the private jet as it approached his private terminal. Isabel was still in his arms, her grip around his neck tight. Her words might say good-bye but her body protested the thought of being apart for even just a little bit of time.

  “Just stay, Isabel. I swear to God we’ll work it out,” he whispered against her ear. “Just stay.”

  She released a long, shuddering breath and he exhaled, letting go of the breath he’d been holding through the landing. Her fingers tangled in the hair at his nape and he arched into her touch, soaking it in.

  “Nicky,” she murmured against his cheek and he closed his eyes. “I”

  He pulled back, ready to listen to whatever she had to say when the flight attendant knocked on the door separating the private area from the front of the plane.

  “Nick,” Chris called through the door, knocking again almost immediately. “Nick, I need to come in.”

  “Chris?” He rose to his feet, bringing Isabel with him and ensuring she was steady on her feet before answering. “Come in.”

  The door opened and Chris entered, his face somber, eyes darting from his face to Isabel. Nick’s entire body went on high alert. His friend was usually easygoing, relaxed, but everything about his posture telegraphed that something was very wrong.

  The two men in suits and the third in the uniform of the Callanos Royal Police confirmed that something was very, very wrong.

  “Chris, what’s going on here?”

  The officer stepped forward, his head bowing in deference at the same time he reached out and unfastened his handcuffs off his belt.

  “Your Royal Highness, I am so sorry but I’m here on official business.”

  “What business could you possibly have here?” He looked around, searching everyone for some kind of answer. Chris stared at the floor, the men in suits at a point somewhere over his shoulder. He turned to Isabel and stilled, his blood turning as cold as the ocean water during the Polar Bear triathlon he’d completed a few years back. He clamped down to keep his teeth from chattering from the dread.

  Isabel was pale, lips white on the edges and knuckles the same shade where she gripped the back of the seat. She swayed on her feet and he reached out to grab her but she jerked back, just out of his reach.

  “I’m so sorry, Nick.”

  But he didn’t get the chance to ask her what she was sorry about because the uniformed officer strode forward and addressed Isabel in clear, concise tones.

  “Isabel Castillo, you are under arrest for the attempted murder of your husband and will be extradited back to the United States to face prosecution.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  The room where they held her at the American embassy would have been really nice if she hadn’t been handcuffed to the table.

  Isabel tried to stretch her arm muscles, rolling her shoulders and wincing when her joints locked and she had to ease back into her original position. She was chilly in the air-conditioned room, the sundress that had been perfect outdoors in Lake Como left her shivering slightly as she waited. And waited.

  The officers had left her in this room and so far her only visitor had been a staff member from the embassy who’d ensured that she’d received a meal and had a comfort break in the restroom attached to this room. She wondered whether she would stay here or if they would fly her out of here on an overnight flight. Either way she would get no sleep. Any time she closed her eyes she saw Nick’s face as the officer strode forward and slapped her in a pair of handcuffs. The officer had been gentle, all the men on the plane careful not to look her in the eye with condemnationor any look at all, really.

  But he’d stared at her, his gaze never leaving her face as she’d stood there stupid with shock and sorrow and the agony of knowing that it would be the last time she ever saw him. She had so many things she should have said but there had been no time. And now she was here, headed back home to face the consequences of her past mistakes and her deliberate actions and her long wait for the other shoe to drop was over. The emails to her sister were the key the FBI needed. Even with the fake email addresses and the proxy servers, they’d figured out it was her and tracked her down.

  The soft knock on the door did not startle her; she was numb and a bomb going off would not have moved her. The young brunette assistant entered the room, her expression somber but her cheeks tinged with the pink of excitement.

  “Ms. Castillo, you have a visitor.”

  For the briefest moment she wondered if it could be Nicky but she tamped down that hope, stomped on it like the crazy it was. She’d seen his face on the plane, full of shock and disappointment and betrayal. Every time she closed her eyes she saw his face and it was worse than any nightmare.

  “Ms. Castillo? Do you want to see your visitor?”

  “I don’t want to see anyone. Thank you,” she said, turning away from the woman.

  There was a scuffle in the hallway and the voice of her visitor was muffled but firm and she recognized it right away. Her stomach turned over, the oily coffee and cold sandwich they’d given her earlier threatening to make a reappearance all over the oriental rug covering the hardwood floor.

  Nicky entered the room, the assistant moving aside like he was Moses and she was the Red Sea. The guard sitting in the corner stood at his entrance, in order to prepare to act in her defense or because a future king had entered the room.

  Their eyes locked briefly. He addressed the guard, his icy tone matching his demeanor.

  “Take off her handcuffs.” When the officer hesitated for a second, his request whipped out across the room with physical force. “Now.”
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br />   It was the voice of a monarch ordering his serf and the other man jumped and quickly came over and unfastened the metal circlets around her wrists. She immediately massaged the skin, wincing at the tender bruising she found there. They’d been tight and pulled with every movement.

  “Leave us alone, please,” Nicky said in a softer voice but it was not a request. Within minutes they were alone. He stood at the other end of the table, looking at a point over her shoulder, his expression hard and unforgiving. Gone was the man who’d taken her to Italy, who’d smiled at her when she beat him on the incline, who’d held her like he’d never let her go. She’d done this.

  Isabel stood, unwilling to have this conversation sitting while he loomed over the proceedings like a piece of carved granite. He spoke before she could get any words out.

  “Are they treating you well?”

  “Yes. They are… It’s fine,” she said, knowing she needed to say what she had to say. She was going to jail for a long time and this would be her only chance. “I’m so sorry.”

  “For what?” He began a slow pace along the edge of the table, still refusing to meet her eyes. “You’re sorry for what exactly? From where I’m standing I can’t even count the number of things that I’m sorry for.”

  “I know you’re angry with me and you have every right to be furious with me”

  “What did you do?” he asked, his voice colder than the metal had been against the skin on her wrist. “They tell me you tried to kill someone.”

  She could tell the truth now. In fact, she’d likely tell it many, many times between now and her trial. She should get used to the feel of it on her tongue, grow accustomed to the bitterness it left in her mouth.

  “I shot my ex-husband and if I could I would have killed him. I would do it again in the same circumstance.”

  “What? I don’t understand.”

  She sat down, the long day and the even longer reach her stupid, youthful mistake had on her life draining every last bit of energy from her.

  “My ex… I told you that he used to hurt me. Not at first or when we were dating but soon after we got married. It got worse and worse until I knew he was going to kill me one day.”

  “But you left him. How did he?”

  “I moved out of town when I got divorced. His family…Adam’s family…was a big deal.” She flicked a look in his direction, hoping he understood her meaning. “He was like you.” She held up her hand to explain. “He was like a prince in the town. His family owns everything, controls everything including the cops and the local courts. I couldn’t even find an attorney to take my divorce case. I moved to Tulsa, got an attorney, divorced him and stayed. I never intended to move back.”

  “Then why did you? If you got away from him, why would you go back?”

  She shrugged. “My sister was diagnosed with breast cancer. She had a little baby and she needed my help. I didn’t want to. I had to.”

  Nicky stared at her, his eyes searching her face for answers and she didn’t know if she had the ones he wanted or needed to hear.

  “I was afraid. I knew he’d be in town so I started carrying a gun. I knew it was wrong. I didn’t have a permit for it. I was just scared.” She closed her eyes, going back to the night her worst nightmares had come true. “I left the hospital one night and went back to my apartment. I was going to grab a shower, a few hours of sleep and head back. Adam found me in the parking lot.”

  She shivered, bile rising in her throat that she had to force down. Nicky moved toward her with purpose, his right hand extended to touch her but she warned him off with the shake of her head. She couldn’t bear his touch on her right now. She’d fall apart.

  “He grabbed me and tried to… He tore my clothes. Hit me. No one came to help me.” She swallowed hard and willed herself to stay in this room. She was not back there. Adam was not here. “I somehow got to my car and got the gun. I shot. Four or five times, I don’t know. I just knew that he was down, he looked dead and I was in trouble. I panicked, went back to Tulsa and hit up a couple of friends who didn’t always walk on the right side of the law. They got me papers and I left. I wasn’t waiting around for a trial that was never going to be fair.”

  “So you ran.”

  “I ran and I moved from job to job. Town to town. Country to country. I never wanted to stay anywhere until I came to Callanos.”

  He ignored her last comment, turning from her to pace the room. She almost didn’t hear him when he spoke with a voice just a hair above a whisper. “Why did you let it go so far between us?”

  Oh hell. She wished he would yell at her, make this ugly instead of this. She could not bear his hurt along with her own. She could go to prison, do the time, but she couldn’t bear this. Seeing how much she hurt him was the worst punishment.

  “I didn’t want you to know about what I did. I couldn’t jeopardize you or your coronation by making you an accessory to my crime.”

  “I didn’t ask you why you kept lying to me”

  “I never lied to you!” Isabel stood and her movement caused him to turn around. She might have done a million things wrong here but she would not let him think that she wasn’t as honest as she could be during their time together. “I never told you about why I was here or what happened. I was greedy but I was never a liar.”

  “Well, your brilliant plans to protect me were for shit because the Duke of Rushing and his supporters in parliament are all over this and are exploiting it in their effort to take my throne from me. I’ve been summoned to appear before a special session of parliament to explain why I had a wanted fugitive and attempted murderess not only living on the palace grounds but getting a private tour of the palace and in my bed.” He rubbed a hand over his face, his five o’clock shadow bristling against his palm.

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “You said that.”

  He turned to leave, his back rigid as he quickly covered the distance to the door. Panic rose in her throat and she knew that she was never going to see him again. Whatever bridge had been forged between them was torched, blown up and was lying in ashes at her feet. She was only going to get this chance to tell him.

  “I love you, Nicky.” She followed him, unsure about what she was going to do when she reached him. Everything about him telegraphed just how angry he was, how hurt. Her body ached all over with her own pain and it burst from her on a sob. “I love you, Nicky. So damn much it’s killing me.”

  He stopped, his fist hitting the door with a loud impact that made her jump. The silence was long and she watched him as he leaned his forehead against the wood, his shoulders heaving with the ragged pants that echoed around the room.

  Nicky stilled, holding his breath at the moment of contact. Isabel watched him, gauged his reaction to her touch before she moved closer, wrapping her arms around his waist, not stopping until she leaned her cheek against his back. He was warm, overheated even, but she was frozen to the marrow in her bones and she soaked it in along with the crisp, masculine scent that was uniquely Nicky.

  They stood like that for many moments and she was ready to release him, resigned that she would not get the reaction she hoped for. He would not turn around and pull her tight against him. He would not kiss her. He would not tell her the words he’d only said on the plane, right before her world imploded. That was too much to ask.

  The sensation of his warm hand on hers almost made her weep with the pure, unadulterated pleasure of it. His fingers intertwined with her own in the way he always held her close and she leaned in even closer, letting her full weight settle against his back. His heartbeat was strong but it sped up a little when he raised their joined hands to his mouth. Soft lips. The bristle of his beard. The gentle nuzzle of skin on skin as he let the touch linger.

  “I think you were right, Isabel,” he said, his voice rough and wet with his pain.

  “About what?”

  She had no idea what he was going to say but when he removed her hand from his and unwoun
d the other from his waist, she knew it wasn’t what she wanted to hear. Isabel braced herself for good-bye but the words he spoke cut too deep to avoid drawing blood and she gasped at the realization of what she’d destroyed with her selfishness.

  “There is no such thing as happily ever after.”

  Nicky opened the door and moved through the opening, shutting it behind him without ever once looking back.

  She’d done more than break his heart, more than betray his trust.

  She’d taken his hope and that was unforgiveable.

  Chapter Nineteen

  His father slept differently now.

  Nick remembered coming into his parents’ room when he was younger and crawling in between them when nightmares had chased him from his own bed. His father was always sprawled out, his large body covering more than his fair share of the bed he shared with his mother. But now he was curled up in a fetal position, as if his body tried to match the state of his mind.

  The stroke had been swift and devastating. According to Alec, their father had been fine one minute and unconscious the next. When he had awoken two days later, he didn’t recognize his sons. A week later, he emerged from the damage to his brain and spoke to Nick about a race he was training for as if nothing had ever happened. It had been like that for a year and then the times of lucidity had become more infrequent and the bouts of violence and fear had increased in intensity and volume.

  Right now, Nick would give something vital to have his father roll over and recognize him one more time. The special parliamentary meeting was this afternoon and he was at a little bit of a loss on how to answer the question of his fitness to rule.

  The door behind him opened and he turned just enough to see his mother walking toward him. Dressed down in silk lounge pants, a flowing blouse, and her blond hair pulled back into a loose ponytail, she looked more like a wife and mother than a queen today. She carried a file in her left hand and she placed it on the bedside table as she pulled a chair alongside his own.