by Robin Danner
Why did he go to all of this trouble for her?
Nadia sipped again from her wine glass. What did he want?
Two servants entered and delivered the first course, an artful arrangement of what looked to Nadia like the equivalent of two tiny bites of food. It was quickly followed by another, as mouthwatering and diminutive as the first.
A seven course meal. She would be trapped with him for an eternity.
They ate mostly in silence. The clink of silverware, and the sound of chewing were the only sounds.
As they lingered over dessert, a luscious fruit custard topped with cream, he began to interrogate her. “Why did you become a soldier?"
It was a familiar subject.
She put down her fork and folded her hands in her lap. “I'd lost my brother to the war, so there was a need to avenge his death, but I've always wanted to be a solder. I suppose it's in my blood."
His blue eyes clouded with sympathy. “I was sorry to hear about Lance."
She waved aside his comment. “It's been many years."
"But it's hard to get beyond losing a loved one.” His face twisted with remembered pain.
"Your parents,” she guessed.
He nodded. “With my mother, her death was expected. We had a chance to savor our time together. But my father's death came as such a shock."
His blue eyes warmed as he studied her. “My father would have been proud of you. Sir Collin was always his favorite knight."
Her lips curved into a smile. “My father tried his best to convince me not to be a soldier."
"It couldn't have been easy, even with Collin as your father."
"No, it hasn't."
She would not unburden herself to him. He would never be able to understand the constant struggles, being forced again and again to prove she was as good as any man, and the anger directed at her when she succeeded.
Mathis’ lean fingers caressed the stem of his wineglass.
Her eyes were drawn to the movement. She realized she wanted to feel his hands on her body again, and the thought both enflamed and mortified her.
He lifted the glass to his lips, and she studied the motion of his throat as he swallowed. The moment grew sensual.
Does he feel it too?
"My brother's fiancee should arrive tomorrow."
Nadia's gaze flew to his face.
She did a quick mental calculation, and it was indeed less than a week until the wedding. She had lost track of the days.
Once the princess arrived, Nadia would be busy making sure that the festivities went off without a hitch. She would also be in charge of securing the palace to make sure that unwanted guests did not arrive.
She nodded and gave him a curious look. “Yes, the duke as well."
Mathis’ jaw tightened, and his fingers flexed on the stem of the wineglass. It was in danger of snapping off completely.
She hesitated before speaking. “You do not like him."
His eyes held a storm of carefully controlled emotion. “He is the man responsible for my father's death."
"How can you be so sure?” She was surprised he confided his suspicions to her.
His eyes flashed blue fire. “Roarke is certainly capable of treachery, and there have too many witnesses to disregard it as mere rumor."
Nadia had not been at N'ior when Roarke had arrived years before to ally himself with the late king. Her father had written to her about the man though, and his words had not been favorable. Yet now Collin refused to speak of Roarke other than as it pertained to preparations for the wedding.
It was all quite odd.
She took a final sip from her wineglass and set it aside. “Your brother does not share your views."
Mathis’ face remained blank, but his eyes again revealed his turmoil. “I have not yet deduced what my brother is about."
"So you think he has concocted a secret plot?"
"Let's hope not,” Mathis replied grimly. “For all our sakes."
They finished their dessert, and Mathis escorted her to the gardens where the fireworks display was scheduled. He found a secluded spot near the edge of the garden, and they waited for the festivities to begin.
Nadia shivered as she recalled the night before, and how it had felt to be in his arms.
"Cold?” The prince's hands came up to caress her arms.
Through the silk of the gown, she could feel the warmth that emanated from him. After a moment's hesitation, she sighed and allowed him the familiarity.
"Look, it has begun.” He turned her in his arms and pulled her against him, wrapping his arms around her waist. His breath ruffled the curls at her temple.
Nadia sank into him, relishing the feel of his strong body behind her. She could hear the oohs and aahs from others in the garden, yet nothing could be more spectacular than the man who held her. She watched the fireworks with detached interest, choosing instead to savor her last moments with the prince. After tonight, she had to end this farce. The best she could hope for was to become his mistress, but if she did, her career would be destroyed. No man would take orders from her if he thought she was a whore. But she would allow herself this one night. One night to feel like a desirable woman.
Then she would return to reality.
The fireworks ended, and the voices began to fade as the crowd moved back inside, probably to continue dancing. She and Mathis were left alone in the garden. When he turned her in his arms, her breath caught. Moonlight streamed across his face, highlighting his elegant cheekbones and the regal slant of his nose. A hint of shadow had appeared on the line of his jaw. She traced it with her fingertips, smiling when it tickled her.
"Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?” His soft, whispered words lingered in the night air.
She certainly felt beautiful for the first time in her life. He was going to kiss her. She was sure of it. Should she let him? Or should she end it now? She chose to have the memory of one kiss to suffice for a lifetime.
"Nadia.” Mathis spoke her name with reverence. He cradled her face and lowered his head, taking her lips in a gentle kiss. He wooed her and went slowly, carefully placing kisses at the corner of her lips.
She let out a breath, and he pressed further, completely covering her lips with his own. Her entire being coalesced into the kiss.
His tongue stroked, caressed, and then surged into her mouth to tangle with hers.
She had no idea what she was doing, but it felt good. She mimicked his actions, delighting when he moaned deep in his throat.
Mathis pulled away, but she grabbed his head between her hands and brought his lips back to hers. She was not ready to let him go. If this kiss was all she would ever have, she needed more.
Something must have snapped inside him, for suddenly his hands were everywhere.
She gasped when he cupped her buttocks, bringing her flush against his hardened length. He pressed forward, his arousal nudging the space between her thighs. Still he kissed her, his tongue caressing her mouth until they paused to catch their breath.
"Nadia, my love, I fear we must stop."
She knew he was right, but she ached to kiss him again. Her stomach tingled with unfamiliar sensations.
She put a hand against her belly as if to calm the fluttering. “I should go."
He continued to hold her. His chest heaved as if he struggled to regain a normal pattern of breathing.
Air rattled in and out of her lungs as well. She felt as if she'd run a mile instead of merely kissing a prince.
She backed away, but his arms tightened. “I don't want you to leave."
The haze of desire that clouded her mind was slow to recede. It was still there but not as powerful as before. She knew she had to leave before she did something she would regret.
But she wanted to know what it all meant. Why did the prince persist in seeking her out?
"What is it that you want from me, Your Highness?"
"I thought that was obvious.” Mathis pressed against
her. “I want you."
She couldn't think when he held her so closely. She needed to be clear-headed to do what she needed to do.
Nadia shoved him away. “And what then? What is to become of me? After you had bedded me and returned to your kingdom?"
Mathis stared at her as if he were unsure what she asked. “I do not plan to merely bed you, Nadia."
She glared back at him.
"Well, what then? Do you intend to court me?” She snorted with disbelief.
His expression grew strangely determined. “Yes, I do believe so."
"Don't be ridiculous!"
"I'm not. I'm completely serious."
He reached for her again, but she stepped nimbly away. “So was your brother, but I managed to dissuade him."
She knew she'd chosen the wrong words as soon as they'd left her lips. She snapped her mouth closed and waited to see what Mathis would do.
His eyes narrowed. “Did you do this with Talin? Has he kissed you?"
Her mouth fell open. She finally recovered enough to speak. “Of course he hasn't."
His face tightened as he stepped away from her. “Then don't compare what we have to the past ever again. I want you, but I won't bother you again if that is what you wish."
His eyes were filled with anger as he turned to leave.
It wasn't what she wanted, but what else could she say?
Nadia had to give up any fantasy she had regarding the prince. He was not meant for her no matter how much she wished it were so. It hurt to stand there and watch him walk away, but she did it.
A brief affair wasn't worth what she would have to give up.
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Chapter 6
Roarke, Duke of Bevelaire, and his beautiful daughter arrived early the next afternoon.
Nadia stood with the retinue that lined the courtyard to greet the esteemed visitors. It was a warm day, and her captain's uniform itched, but she stood at attention and stubbornly refused to acknowledge she was uncomfortable.
Talin waited near the entrance to the palace, but Mathis was not present.
She hadn't imagined he would be. He was not the sort to dissemble and pretend to celebrate the arrival of a man who may or may not have killed his father.
The Bevelaire crest emblazoned on the black carriage that pulled to a stop near the place Nadia stood made her lips curl. The crest was an eagle with a mouse clutched in its beak. She did not care for the symbolism, even if it was completely apt. Roarke made a habit of preying on the weak.
The carriage swung open, and the duke emerged. A fanfare of trumpets sounded, but it did not deafen the murmurs of the crowd. Onlookers gathered to catch a glimpse of Roarke and his daughter.
Roarke was not overly tall, but he was stout. His once muscular frame had softened, but he still cut an imposing figure in his brilliant gold and black robes. He extended a hand to his daughter, who descended from the carriage. She was covered in a cloak that mostly hid her from the curious crowd.
Roarke leaned in to whisper something to her, and she tossed her head defiantly. Roarke's face grew florid as he eyed his daughter. His cruel mouth tightened as he grabbed Rowena's elbow. Nadia was close enough to hear the tiny whimper the princess made as her father hauled her to his side. Moments later, she threw back the hood of her cloak.
Nadia swallowed a gasp. Rowena was exquisite!
Blonde hair the color of honey streamed down her back. Her eyes were wide and almond shaped. Nadia couldn't discern their color, but they appeared to be brown.
The crowd turned their attention to their prince.
Talin came forward to greet his guests. He effusively praised Rowena's beauty, as expected, and heartily shook Roarke's hand. Roarke gave an enthusiastic greeting as well. He smiled broadly at his daughter, who, mere moments before, had earned his ire. Talin acted as if he had not witnessed the treatment of his future bride. Perhaps he had not.
After a brief conversation, Talin led Roarke and his daughter toward the castle.
If Talin did have a plot in mind, one certainly wouldn't guess it. He would have to be a consummate actor to fake such a greeting.
Nadia fell in line with another group of soldiers and assisted in dispersing the crowd.
There were public events planned for the remainder of the week, but this first day was reserved for the royals to get to know one another. A private banquet would be held that evening with only the highest-ranking lords and ladies in attendance.
Once the crowd thinned, Nadia escorted Roarke's guards to their quarters. They were to be housed in the soldiers’ barracks, and they set off on a short walk to the barracks.
She quickly regretted appointing herself for the duty.
Roarke's escorts were crude men. They spoke in loud voices as they debated the merits of her skill in bed.
"You are quite a pretty thing,” one of them remarked.
"Tell me, after you show us the barracks will you stay and warm our beds?"
Nadia ignored them as best as she could until one pinched her backside.
She'd had enough.
Nadia spun and grabbed the hand of the man who'd dared to touch her. She squeezed his index finger and forced it backwards until the bones of his wrist creaked beneath her fingertips.
"Do not touch me,” she said between clenched teeth.
The man whimpered.
She glared at the other men. “The same goes for you."
Their faces registered their shock and a dawning appreciation.
"Nadia!"
A figure pushed his way through the group of men and hurried to her side. She dropped the man's hand and gaped at the unlikely appearance of Mathis.
The prince shoved aside the man she'd released and came to her side. “Are you harmed?"
She shook her head. “No."
The prince nodded and drew himself up to an impressive height. He turned to face Roarke's escorts, and his eyes narrowed with warning. “If any of you touch her again, I will personally see to it that you are thrown in a dungeon for the remainder of your miserable lives."
The men bowed to the prince and set off for the barracks as if the fires of hell nipped at their heels.
Nadia crossed her arms and lifted a slim eyebrow. “What do you think you are doing?"
Mathis glanced at her with a confused look. “What do you mean? I came to help you."
She uncrossed her arms and poked her finger in his chest. “I can take care of myself. I do not need you to be my hero."
His mouth tightened as his jaw clenched. “Damn it, Nadia. I know you can.” He flung out a hand toward the fleeing guardsmen. “But there were twelve of them to one of you. Those odds were not in your favor."
No, they had not been. Her knees still shook, but she showed no obvious sign of weakness.
"I must go. I have work to do."
"Nadia, wait."
He grabbed her hand, but she shook him off. “No, Your Highness."
She turned on her heel and stomped away. Mathis did not try to stop her again.
Nadia headed back to the castle but did not pay much attention to where she walked. She stumbled over a loose stone and cursed softly.
What is wrong with me?
She kicked the stone aside and continued on her way.
For several hours, she patrolled the palace grounds.
She purposefully chose the eastern side so that she wouldn't encounter the gardens. The borrowed dress and jewelry had been returned to Talin first thing that morning, and she'd been prepared to wipe her hands clean of any reminder of the time she'd spent with Mathis.
It was much easier said than done. It was as if he were engraved in her thoughts. She yearned to see him, to speak to him, to know he was not still angry with her. To do so, though, would admit her weakness.
She could not allow him to take precedence over all she held dear. Her career was her life. She was not prepared to give it up for the slight possibility a prince might care for her.
>
In a week, Mathis would return to his kingdom, and she could put this behind her. She would remain and continue to train new recruits, as her father had done before her, until she grew too old.
Then what will I do?
She'd never thought about life after her military career ended. Perhaps she would become a maiden aunt to the children Hugh might one day have. Or perhaps she would find a man that would marry her and start a family of her own.
Her father wished for grandchildren, but she'd allowed no room in her plans for a husband and children. Who would want to marry her anyway?
Not many men would look with fondness upon a woman who'd earned her keep by fighting for her kingdom. Nadia had killed before. She had not enjoyed it, but it had been necessary to protect Noventia. No man wanted such a wife.
Some men had courted her, she'd even had a few proposals, but they'd only been infatuated by the challenge she presented, not the woman she was.
The prince wants you.
Nadia ignored her inner voice. He did not want her for a wife, merely a mate to warm his bed. He would someday find a woman like Rowena, a lady who'd been taught from birth to take her rightful place at her husband's side.
When that day came, her heart would break.
If things were different, if she were anyone other than who she was, she would damn the consequences and throw herself wholeheartedly into an affair with the prince. But she was Collin d'Arcy's daughter, born into a family that treasured honor and loyalty above all else.
She may not have had the upbringing most girls did, but she had not been brought up to be a light-skirt. She would not shame her family or herself.
Mathis stood near the window of his brother's study and sipped from a glass of the brandy he'd found on the sideboard. Nadia had passed in front of the window at least three times in the past hour, so she couldn't have known he was there. Once she'd accused him of spying on her. Today he was guilty of it, but she'd left him no choice. He'd vowed not to seek her out unless she expressed a desire for him to do so. Earlier that day he'd happened upon her accidentally, and he was glad he had. When he saw Nadia surrounded by Roarke's men, his heart nearly stopped. She had not been happy to see him though.