Crown Prince, Pregnant Bride! / Valentine Bride. Raye Morgan
he’s enjoying himself. He won’t have much longer to do that, as I intend to take that job away from him shortly.”
She threw up her hands, not sure if he meant it or if this was just typical male bombast. “What exactly do you mean to do?” she asked, trying to pin him down.
He looked at her and smiled, coming closer, touching her hair with one hand.
“Nothing that you need to worry about.”
But his thoughts were not nearly as sanguine as he pretended. She really had no conception of how deep his anger lay and how his hatred had eaten away at him for most of his life. Ever since that night when the castle had burned and his parents were murdered by the Granvilli clan. Payment was due. Retribution was pending.
“Is your father really very ill?” he asked quietly.
“Yes.” She found the shirt she wanted and pulled it down.
“And you want to make him happy before he…”
He swallowed his next words even before she snapped her head around and ordered curtly, “Don’t say it!”
He bit his tongue. That was a stupid thing to have thought, even if he never actually got the words out. He didn’t mind annoying her about things he didn’t think she should care so much about, but to annoy her about her father was just plain counterproductive.
“Well, he would like to see you become the future first lady of the land, wouldn’t he?” he amended lamely.
He tried to think of what he knew about her father. Marallis had been considered an up-and-coming advisor in his own father’s regime. From what he’d been able to glean, the king had recognized his superior abilities and planned to place him in a top job. And then the rebellion had swept over them, and it turned out Vaneck Marallis had signed on with the other side. Was it any wonder he should feel betrayed by the man? He was the enemy. He very likely gave the rebels the inside information they needed to win the day. There was no little corner of his heart that had any intention of working on forgiveness for the man.
“Okay, it’s getting late,” she said impatiently. “I have to go check on my father.”
“Because he’s ill?”
“Because he’s very ill.” She knew she needed to elaborate, but when she tried to speak, her throat choked and she had to pause, waiting for her voice to clear again. “I always go in to see him for a few minutes at this time in the afternoon.” She looked at him. “When I get back, we’ll have to decide what I’m going to do with you.”
“Will we?” His grin was ample evidence of his opinion on the matter, but she turned away and didn’t bother to challenge him.
Going to her clothes rack, she pulled out a trim, cream-colored linen suit with slacks and a crisp jacket and slipped behind a privacy screen to change into them. He watched as she emerged, looking quietly efficient and good at whatever job she might be attempting. And ravishingly beautiful at the same time. He’d never known another woman who impressed him as much as this one did. Once again he had a pressing urge to find a way to take her with him.
It wouldn’t be impossible. She thought he would have to get her past the guards, but she was wrong. He had his own way into the castle and he could easily get her out. But only if she was at least halfway cooperative. It was up to him to convince her to be.
“I don’t have time to decide what to do with you right now,” she told him, her gaze hooded as she met his eyes. “I have to go check on my father, and it’s getting late. You stay here and hold down the fort. I’ll be back in about half an hour.”
“I may be here,” he offered casually. “Or not.”
She hesitated. She didn’t like that answer. “Tell me now, are you going to stay here and wait, or are you going to go looking for Leonardo and get killed?” she demanded of him.
He laughed shortly. “I think I can handle myself around your so-called fiancé,” he said dismissively.
Her gaze sharpened and she looked seriously into his eyes. “Watch out for Leonardo. He’ll kill you without batting an eye.”
“Are you serious? That prancing prig?”
She shook her head. “Don’t be fooled by his veneer of urbanity. He’s hard as nails. When I suggested you might be killed, I meant it.”
He searched her eyes for evidence that she really cared. It was there, much as she tried to hide it. He smiled.
“I’m not too keen on the ‘killed’ part. But as for the rest…”
She glanced at her watch. Time was fleeting. “I’m running out of time,” she told him. “Go out and wait in the courtyard. I just have one last thing to check.”
“What’s that?” he asked.
She looked pained. “None of your business. I do have my privacy to maintain. Now go out and wait.”
He walked out into the lush courtyard and heard the door click shut behind him. Turning, he could see her through the glass door, walking back into her closet again. Probably changed her mind on what to wear, he thought to himself. And he had a twinge of regret. He didn’t have all that much time here and he hated to think of missing a moment with her.
Did that mean he’d given up on the kidnapping? No. Not at all. Still, there was more to this trip than just seeing Pellea.
He scanned the courtyard and breathed in the atmosphere. The castle of his ancestors was all around him. For a few minutes, he thought about his place in history. Would he be able to restore the monarchy? Would he bring his family back to their rightful place, where they should have been all along?
Of course he would. He didn’t allow doubts. His family belonged here and he would see that it happened. He’d already found two of his brothers, part of the group of “Lost Royals” who had escaped when the castle was burned and had hidden from the wrath of the Granvillis ever since. There were two more brothers and two sisters he hadn’t found yet. But he hoped to. He hoped to bring them all back here to Ambria by the end of the summer.
He turned and looked through the French doors into her bedroom and saw the huge, soft bed where he’d spent most of the two and a half days when he’d been here before. Memories flooded back. He remembered her and her luscious body and he groaned softly, feeling the surge of desire again.
Pellea was special. He couldn’t remember another woman who had ever stuck in his mind the way she did. She’d embedded herself into his heart, his soul, his imagination, and he didn’t even want to be free of her. And that was a revelation.
If he survived this summer…
No, he couldn’t promise anything, not even to himself. After all, her father was the man who had betrayed his family. He couldn’t let himself forget that.
But where was she? She’d been gone a long time. He turned back and looked at the closed doors to her dressing room, then moved to them and called softly, “Pellea.”
There was no response.
“Pellea?”
Still nothing. He didn’t want to make his call any louder. You never knew who might be at the gate or near enough to it to hear his voice. He tried the knob instead, pushing the door open a bit and calling again, “Pellea?”
There was no answer. It was quite apparent she wasn’t there.
CHAPTER THREE
ALARM BELLS RANG IN Monte’s head and adrenaline flooded his system. Where had she gone? How had she escaped without him seeing her? What was she doing? Had he overestimated his ability to charm, compared to Leonardo’s ability to hand out a power position? Was she a traitor, just like her father?
All that flashed through his mind, sending him reeling. But that only lasted seconds before he’d