His eyes hardened in defiance when he realized what I was trying to say. “This is not one of those moments.”
“Yes, it is. Alex, you were born to lead, and you were born to wear that crown. Right now, you must put your duty before your heart.”
“Dammit, Madison,” Alexander said roughly, running a frustrated hand through his hair. His shoulders were still tensed, but I could see the reluctant acceptance in his eyes. His arm snaked unexpectedly around my waist, pulling me against him, our bodies crushed tightly together. He cupped my cheek, his hand surprisingly gentle despite the fiery passion I could see raging in his eyes. “I don’t want to do this,” he growled. “But I will, because I know that you’re right—and I hate you for it.”
Then he kissed me, hard and fierce, his hands and lips staking a claim on my body as strong as the claim his deep and abiding love had already made on my heart. My fingers slid into his black hair and I lifted up onto my toes, bringing my face closer to his, nearly melting as he deepened the kiss. I pressed against him, trying to commit to memory the sensation of every burning touch between us and wishing that this moment would never end.
It was several moments later before I could find the strength to pull away from his passionate assault on my senses. Easing back to look into his face, I lovingly explored every handsome feature, lingering on his sexy mouth before meeting the striking blue eyes that I adored. His love and desire for me burned in his eyes, and his hot look made me feel weak in the knees.
“I love you, Alexander,” I whispered ardently. “I will always love you.”
His blue eyes blazed with regret and his hands tightened briefly around my waist. He gently touched my cheek, his expression tender, yet fierce. “Sono tuo per sempre, cuore mio.”
I’m yours forever, heart of mine.
Then Alexander kissed me one last time, and I felt my soul shatter. He hugged me tighter for a moment before his hands slowly fell away. He stepped back and looked at me with the pain of his broken heart clear in his dark blue eyes. My own broken heart clenched in response, making it hard to even breathe.
Alexander cleared his throat then said brusquely, “I want Gerard to go with you to America. To keep you safe until the trial is over.”
I nodded, unable to find my voice. Reaching blindly for the knob, I yanked open the door and paused, turning to look at my prince one more time. Our eyes held for a prolonged, heart-wrenching moment, a thousand emotions swirling between us.
“I will never love anyone the way that I love you, dolcezza,” Alexander murmured. “Goodbye, Madison.”
“Be happy,” I told him breathlessly, then fled the palace, leaving my heart behind in the hands of the handsome prince that I would love forever.
Chapter Thirty-One
The last two weeks had dragged by slowly, the pain of my broken heart a relentless reminder of everything I had lost. Every moment was a struggle to get through the agonizing minutes of a single day. It felt like more than just a break-up; almost like someone had died. And in a way, it was. In order to be able to move on, I could never see Alexander again. The love of my life was gone forever. I would never talk to him, or hug him, or watch his smile light up his face. I would never again get to kiss him, or see the warmth in his eyes when he looked at me. It had only been two weeks, yet I longed for just the sound of his voice. Instead of having his strong arms wrapped around me, all I had now were pictures and memories, and the pain in my heart that was all-consuming.
Being home with my family had helped to numb some of the pain. Over the last two weeks I’d spent most of my time wandering through the vast acres of our pastures and would often sit for hours in the warm sunshine, trying to lose myself in the surrounding beauty of my Montana home. I loved the way the golden sunlight spilled out across the land, over the tops of the tall, towering trees, making the rolling hills glisten in shades of emerald. The distant mountains were deep purple, with sharp jagged peaks and shadowed crevices.
Our house was a classic two-story farmhouse with smoky blue siding and rich red doors. A white wooden railing enclosed the wrap-around porch with the aging wooden planks. Dark blue shutters and window boxes bursting with daisies helped to soften the rustic edges of the old house, transforming it into a charming country home.
But the loving faces of my family and the familiar landscape of our home only seemed to ease the pain temporarily. As the weeks dragged on I began to spend most of my time hiding from them and their sympathetic eyes. They didn’t understand. To them, it was just a break-up. They kept telling me that time would heal my broken heart. But what they didn’t understand was that my soul had been shattered as well, and no amount of time would ever be enough to heal that rift.
I had lived without Alexander once before and knew I could do it again—because I had no other choice. In time, I was confident that my heart would heal and my days would eventually be filled with light instead of darkness. But I knew I would never be whole again. I was resigned to spending my life with only half of a heart and soul. I didn’t know what kind of life that might be: if I would ever get married or have children, or if I could ever smile and feel truly happy again. Without Alexander, I didn’t think it would be possible to have even a small piece of that happily-ever-after I’d always imagined. Only time would tell.
The Mercier trial was less than a week away. I wandered aimlessly through the house, feeling restless. Thoughts of my stalker crept unbidden into my head. Had they followed me back to America, or were they content knowing that I was no longer in the way?
When the Merciers had been arrested, the question of who had been following me in America had remained unanswered. At the time, I had been so consumed with my pain over leaving Alexander that I hadn’t thought about it until a week later. Now I was grateful to my loving prince for sending Gerard to protect me. I spent days thinking about the hate notes alone, the angry words sealed permanently within my memory. I couldn’t seem to suppress the nagging feeling that stirred sickeningly within my heart. The jealousy and the hatred, combined with the memory of bitter hazel eyes hounded me until I was once again convinced that the person behind them was a jealous noblewoman: Emma Rousseau.
Nervous, I had shared my concern with Gerard three days ago, asking if there could have been anyone else involved. I was careful not to specifically mention Emma. He immediately contacted Pierre, who had assured him that they would look into it. I had been waiting on pins and needles ever since.
It was a warm and sunny afternoon in the country hills of Montana. I was sitting in a rocking chair on the front porch, with my arms wrapped loosely around my curled up knees, staring mindlessly out across the vast expanse of land. The early afternoon sunshine glinted through the branches of pine trees and covered the wide green pastures like a golden blanket. My entire family, except for Papa, were out of the house today for various reasons. My parents had gone into town for supplies and Mackenzie had ventured over to our neighbor’s house, trailed by our ever-loyal family dog.
Lost in my own personal misery, I’d lost track of how many hours I’d been out on the porch and wondered briefly if I’d even eaten anything today. I sighed wearily and rested my chin against my knee, staring blindly into the distance. I heard the sound of footsteps on the creaky planks and glanced up into the concerned brown eyes of Gerard, my loyal guard and friend.
He frowned slightly and held out a deck of cards. “You need a distraction.” He arranged the side table between us, then sat down in the other rocking chair and began dealing the cards.
“Where’s Papa?” I asked, realizing that I hadn’t seen my grandfather since earlier this morning.
“He’s doing a crossword puzzle in his room.”
My grandfather, Daniel, was in his late sixties and suffered from the heartbreaking condition of Alzheimer’s disease. While still in good shape physically, he had occasional moments of confusion and memory loss. Since he’d started a new medication last year, those episodes had happened less and less.
He often did crosswords in an effort to keep his mind sharp.
We had played a few rounds of gin rummy when my cellphone beeped from a text message. I frowned, uncertain if I should bother checking it. It was probably just Arianna or Ashton checking up on me, and I had nothing new to say to them except my standard “I’m fine”. Which I knew neither of them believed.
“Go check your phone,” Gerard said, rising to his feet. “I’ll grab us some drinks.”
I followed him into the house and picked up my phone from the entry table, holding my breath in a futile hope that it was from Alexander. We hadn’t spoken since I’d left Coradova, but I knew that he checked up on me regularly; I had overheard Gerard speaking to him several times. Just last night I’d hidden in the shadows of the hallway and listened with an aching heart as Gerard answered the prince’s questions about my welfare.
From the kitchen I heard Gerard’s cellphone ring, but couldn’t hear his voice over the sudden pounding of my heart in my ears. Looking down at the text message on my phone, the blood froze in my veins and fear shot down my spine. I had received another hate note. But that was impossible since the people behind the notes were currently locked in Coradova’s prison awaiting trial. Unless there was a third person involved.
Did you think you were safe on your pathetic little farm, Cinderella? You caught the wrong person and that deadly mistake is going to cost you. You stole Prince Alexander from me and now you will be punished. We’re coming for you.
With my heart hammering in fear, I glanced over at Gerard, who was now standing in the hallway. His back was partially turned to me, intentionally hiding his face as he spoke rapidly in French, his wide shoulders tense. Just then the smell of smoke wafted into the house through the screen door.
“Do you smell smoke?” I asked, taking a hasty step out onto the front porch. Shock hit me like a stone in the stomach when I caught sight of the barn and stables ablaze with all six of our horses trapped inside. “The barn is on fire!” I shouted in panic, drawing Gerard’s attention.
He was inside the house, standing at the opposite end of the hallway with his cellphone still held up to his ear. Through the screen door our eyes met and held, testing. Before leaving Coradova, Alexander had ordered him to protect me at all cost. I knew Gerard would never allow me to put myself in danger. But I needed to save our horses. There was no way that I would just stand by and let them die. My face set with firm resolve as I made my decision. A split second later I shot off like a rocket, catching a fleeting glimpse of Gerard’s ferocious expression.
“Madison!” he called out, his angry voice sounding too close on my heels. I knew he was fast, but I was faster. Calling upon all my training over the last three years, I pushed myself to run as quickly as I could, breaking away from Gerard as I sped across the lawn.
Thankfully, the front doors of the barn were open. I flung myself through them without pausing to worry about my own safety. The entire barn was engulfed in flames. The force of the heat hit me like a brick wall and the smoke choked my oxygen-deprived lungs. I had managed to fling open two horse stalls when I heard Gerard shout my name again. Glancing over my shoulder, I saw him standing in the barn entrance, flames surrounding him like a golden burning portrait.
His dark brown eyes captured mine, fury and fear crossing his face simultaneously before he charged in after me. I stumbled around the fallen pieces of burning debris and glanced up anxiously at the buckling roof before yanking open another stall door. We were surrounded by a wall of flames, the smoke so thick that it was becoming hard to breathe. I ignored the fear clutching at my heart and pulled a riding jacket off the nearby hook. Bunching it up against my face to cover my mouth and nose from direct smoke inhalation, I tossed open the next stall door. The black stallion raced past me, neighing frantically in his attempt to escape. I saw Gerard press himself against the opposite wall in an effort to avoid being trampled, and I prayed for his safety as well as the horses.
“Maddy!” Gerard shouted angrily, a hint of panic in his voice.
“I’m almost done,” I shouted back, pulling open the second to the last stall. If I was going to die over a broken heart anyway, I might as well save lives first. I was pulling open the last stall door when strong arms wrapped around my waist and hauled me off my feet.
“We’re leaving right now!” Gerard snarled in my ear.
He dragged me toward the open doors, but our progress was slow. During the short time we’d been inside the barn, the interior frame was starting to collapse. We had to trek carefully around burning chunks of falling wood while avoiding the towering wall of flames. The thick black smoke was burning my throat and nose, and my eyes were stinging. I kept tripping over my feet because I could barely see. Gerard was forced to half-drag me along with him.
We were steps away from the doorway when I heard a sickening crack overhead. In the same moment I was shoved hard from behind as Gerard practically tossed me through the air. Landing in the dirt a few feet away, I fell onto my right shoulder. My head spun for a dizzying moment. There was a groaning sound that ripped through the air before I heard a large crash. The ground trembled beneath me. Pushing up onto my elbows I glanced around frantically, searching through the dust, smoke and flames for Gerard, my protector and my friend.
I finally spotted him, unmoving and buried under a pile of charred debris. The front of the barn had collapsed around him. It would be a miracle if he was still alive. Scrambling to my feet, I stumbled over to him and frantically searched for a pulse, nearly collapsing with relief when I found it. Taking hold of his exposed arm, I tried to pull him out but he was too heavy. I grabbed a nearby shovel to use as a lever and began trying to pry some of the wood off of him, nearly crying with panic in my effort to free him before it was too late.
There was a noise behind me, but before I could turn around I was struck hard in the back of the head and crumpled to the ground. Blackness threatened to surround me. My head was spinning, but I blinked up through dimming eyes at the figure towering over me. She was beautiful with long legs and olive- toned skin. Her hazel eyes gleamed wickedly as she smiled down at me through crimson red lips, her golden hair spilling down over one shoulder. The flames from the barn seemed to dance vengefully behind her head.
The last thought that flitted through my fuzzy head was that Alexander had been right after all. It wasn’t Emma behind the threatening hate notes, though the person who had harassed me for weeks was indeed a jealous noblewoman.
It was Marie Delacroix who smiled viciously and blew me a kiss before the darkness descended.
For a moment I was weightless. Then reality came crashing down. I returned to consciousness with a start. I could feel strong arms wrapped around me, my cheek pressed against a hard muscled chest. Breathless, I glanced up at the face of the person carrying me in his arms, half-expecting to see the striking blue eyes of my prince. But the eyes that met mine were a dark, muddy brown—and unfamiliar. He was younger than me, but very tall and surprisingly well-muscled, with golden hair and a sharply defined jaw and brow.
Looking up into this stranger’s face that was half covered in shadows, I tensed as panic shot through me and glanced around wildly. We were engulfed by darkness except for a single flashlight. As my eyes began to focus I noticed that we were surrounded by tall, towering trees. We must have been in the forest behind the house.
Suddenly, the last bits of my memory came shooting back. Marie Delacroix was here in Montana, and she was the jealous noblewoman behind the hate notes. Her motive was perfectly clear, although I didn’t understand her connection to the Merciers. The back of my head throbbed. I recalled being struck from behind, but when I tried to raise a hand to my face I realized I was bound at the wrists and ankles. Fear shot through me. I jerked in the arms of my captor, my movement so unexpected that he nearly dropped me.
“It looks like someone’s awake,” Marie said out of the surrounding darkness. “Put her down over here.”
My captor rou
ghly set me down on the ground, but before I could even attempt to scramble away, he began wrapping a thick rope around my body and tied me to the trunk of a tree.
Marie crouched down in front of me with a flashlight and peered into my face. “Bonjour, chérie. It’s so nice of you to finally join us. I was starting to worry that Paul might have hit you too hard.” She affectionately touched the shoulder of the blond-haired young man working meticulously on tying the knots.
“Where’s Gerard?” I demanded, my voice raspy from smoke inhalation.
“Your bodyguard?” Marie shrugged a shoulder. “Probably burned to a crisp by now. Just like your grandfather.” Her hazel eyes blazed with vindictive pleasure as I gaped at her.
“What?” I exclaimed. My alarm nearly choked me.
“We set your house on fire with your grandfather still inside.” Marie patted my cheek with a slap, then rocked back onto the heels of her hiking boots. She had changed into jeans and a long-sleeved green flannel shirt, her golden hair pulled away from her face into a thick ponytail. There was a hunting knife strapped to her belt and a shotgun slung over one shoulder. In that outfit she looked like an expert outdoorsman; very different from the flashy socialite I’d known in Coradova.
Tugging in vain against the ropes that bound me, I smothered a whimper when the ropes rubbed against my raw, wounded skin. The adrenaline rush from earlier had long since faded and I was now painfully aware of the numerous burns that covered my body. Ignoring the pain, I glared fiercely at Marie. “You set my house on fire? How could you harm an innocent old man—what is wrong with you? I’m the one that you hate!”
Heart of Mine Page 26
