A hollow feeling settled in his chest and an unbearable hole in his heart refused to fill in.
He missed her. Missed the sensation of her curling by his side and holding her, their bodies spooning together after making love. She’d been warm, welcoming. Now he couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d screwed up big time when he’d refused to believe her the day before. Ever since he’d had her carted off by the secret service officers, he’d questioned his actions. But…
If she was innocent where the hell was she?
Dread slithered along his spine and coiled around his neck, choking him. Pieter had gone missing. Ilsa had disappeared without a trace. And he knew the two were connected.
Santiago moved to the desk that was once his brother’s. The antique box filled with official royal papers loomed into view. He opened it, found the stack of new decrees and rifled through them blindly. Ilsa had been going to Javier to tell him they had to marry regardless of how she felt about Santiago’s brother. She’d overheard their argument.
She’d overheard everything he’d said in anger to Javier. And still, she’d supported him despite the accusations leveled against Santiago by the secret service, the tabloids and his mother.
Ilsa had never wavered. Not when he’d gone to her with the horrific news about Javier’s death. Not when he’d proposed she marry a man she barely knew. And not when his country believed him capable of committing a heinous murder.
His heart clenched. She’d stood by him even when no one else had done so. Ilsa had been the one person in his life who had demanded nothing of him and yet had given him everything.
And he? He’d abandoned her when she’d needed him most.
The edge of a paper slit his index finger, and he winced, withdrew his hand from the box, the quick squirt of blood dripping onto the stack of official documents inside the ancient box.
Sucking his finger, he lifted the papers out with his free hand to prevent further damage. One document contained both the Menkaran and Valdorian royal seals at the top. Quickly, he scanned the contents. His heart rate accelerated and adrenaline moved through his veins, zipping electrical charges into all his extremities.
Ilsa had proposed a merger between their countries, her father’s signature with his notarization dated only a few days ago graced the decree. Two more signature lines appeared. One for him and one for her. As ruling monarchs, they’d bring this into law and end the longstanding vying for power grabs between their countries with the stroke of a pen.
All would become effective after his coronation and her official crowning as the Queen of Valdoria.
A woman who wanted to take over his country wouldn’t give him reigning power over hers. But he should have known this about Ilsa before he’d read this paperwork. Too late. He’d realized too late that he’d driven away the only woman who’d cared enough for him to give him what he wanted all along.
She’d given him a way to end the acrimony between their countries and bring them into the modern world once and for all. The document had been created after their honeymoon… after the false accusations against him had surfaced.
And Pieter van Winnsen had been the notary in charge. Ilsa had trusted her uncle with this information because she had no reason to believe otherwise. Now Pieter had gone missing and Ilsa had vanished into thin air.
With trembling hands, and fear coursing through him, he returned the document to the box and closed it. After he locked it, he pocketed the ancient key and rushed to the office door.
Ilsa had done all this because she loved him and had wanted to surprise him with this gift after their coronation.
But Pieter would never allow their countries to merge. Not when he’d been the mastermind behind his brother’s assassination and Delmar’s deceit. Cursing himself for being an asshole and idiot of epic proportions, he moved outside and called his security guards.
“Her Royal Highness is in trouble.” He didn’t break his stride as they exited the reception area. “Contact the head of the department and activate a thorough search of the castle and grounds for her. And accelerate your efforts to bring in Pieter van Winnsen.”
He pocketed his gun and made his way to the castle’s main entrance. “Your Highness, you can’t risk your life,” the guard said, barely keeping pace with Santiago.
“My life is worth nothing without Ilsa.” He rounded the corner to the staircase where he’d last seen his brother sprawled at the bottom, a broken man whose only sin had been one of pride. Now Santiago carried that sin too. He’d allowed his bullheaded obstinacy to drive his actions and put the woman he loved in danger.
His belly knotted, and he scrubbed his hand over his face. What had he done? Dios. If he lost Ilsa before he had a chance to beg for her forgiveness and her heart, he’d never be whole again.
Chapter 10
Groaning, her throat scraped raw and the gag between her dry lips cutting the corners of her mouth, Ilsa stared at the man sitting across from her, wishing with all her heart she could say something.
Pieter smiled, but his pale gray eyes were empty of emotion. “You gave me quite a struggle,” he said after a brief moment where he studied her. “Good thing you couldn’t talk after I got the gag on your mouth before you alerted your guard detail about my presence. How about now? You ready to listen, not shout?”
Ilsa nodded, though she wanted to scream. She wanted to hit Pieter and overpower him, then run to Santiago… oh God, after what he’d said only hours ago… now he’d never believe her innocent. But if she could find a way to escape her uncle, she’d make sure Santiago discovered the truth. But first she had to save herself.
“Good.” Pieter stood and closed the distance between them, then removed the gag. “Now are you ready to listen to reason unlike the day you came to me with the ridiculous idea to merge our nations formally?”
Maybe if she kept her uncle talking, she’d figure out a way out or at least give someone time to rescue her. A sheen of cold sweat broke out at the back of her neck. If they even realize I’m in danger. She licked her lips, nodding, then croaked, “Of course, but would you be so kind as to give me something to drink. I’ll be able to take it all in better after a sip of cool water.”
She clung to the one thing she’d left behind for Santiago to convince him she’d been on his side all along. And she prayed he’d find the gift he’d given her during their honeymoon along with her Menkaran royal ring on the chain on the vanity where… pain pricked behind her eyes and her nose itched dangerously, but she’d be damned if she’d let the monster sitting across from her see her cry.
“Naturally.” He crossed the floor to pour water into a glass from a pitcher which had been placed on a sideboard. He returned with it and held it to her lips. “Here.”
She sipped, grateful for the soothing relief the water provided. “Thank you. That’s much better,” she said. “But I’d much prefer to hold my own glass. I’m not a child.”
“You certainly behaved like one when you pressured me to draw up the document you requested.” He held the glass to her lips once more. “Drink. And if you demonstrate that you have learned your lesson… that just because you can speak your mind as Valdoria’s future queen, you should know when to keep your damn mouth shut where I’m concerned.”
Pieter had taken her to his ship which had been hidden in a cove located off the Valdorian coastline, near Delmar Chavez’s villa. The rest of the Menkaran fleet had been spirited beyond the official borderline in the Mediterranean Sea waiting for Uncle Pieter’s signal to attack. She’d managed to find that out from her attaché after she’d texted the woman for help.
But before she could give Santiago the information, Pieter had used a secret door that led to Santiago’s rooms to access hers. He and a henchman subdued her, gagged her and took her to his ship under cover of night.
Now she’d have to fight for every second she had remaining or all of Pieter’s machinations would cause a war from which neither country could escape unscat
hed.
“I understand.” She didn’t. Her father had been 100 percent on board with her surprise coronation present for Santiago. As had been her mother and sisters. The time to set aside antiquated ways of negotiating peace had come. “I suppose that’s why you had Javier killed. To give us an excuse to invade.” She pretended a kinship with her uncle she no longer felt, now that he’d revealed his true nature to her. Gingerly, she moved her wrists against the rope he’d used to bind them together behind the chair back.
“Javier’s death should have been the end of our ridiculous adhesion to the codicil in our peace accord.” He wiped her mouth with the perfectly pressed handkerchief he’d withdrawn from his shirt pocket. “But your decision to marry Santiago nearly destroyed my plans for Menkara. Also, I doubted you were capable of living up to what he wants in a woman. For a Brainiac, you’re incredibly stupid when it comes to men.”
Heat flushed through her body, and black spots danced in her vision. If anyone was an idiot in this scenario, Uncle Pieter spelled it in all caps. He’d allowed tabloid lies to feed his opinion, but her husband had shown her who he was deep down, from the minute she’d first asked him to teach her how to be his lover.
“You’re right, Uncle Pieter,” she said calmly to buy more time, though her heart raced. “Santiago is way too much man for me. I was a fool to believe we could make our marriage work.”
Her uncle downed his drink in two swallows, then poured more scotch. “You were always my favorite niece,” he said, his back still to her. “I never wanted things to get this out of control.”
And she’d never expected her favorite uncle to be a murderer. But here they were, and she had to get out or die. “How is the scotch?” she asked. “Is it doing the trick?” Either he’d get drunk and pass out before he’d carry out his last act or he’d use the liquid courage to finish her off.
She felt the rope give a little more. Adrenaline zipped into her extremities, making her palms tingle and every sense inside her heightened. She could get out. She had to, or she’d die. And she had no intention of dying today.
A quick scan of the room’s interior gave her only one exit strategy. The door to the ship’s deck. Right now, she had to believe the crew would obey her directives if she managed to escape.
“Sure is,” he said. “You want something stronger than water? To dull the pain?”
“Sure. Though I doubt it’ll erase everything,” she said. “After all, you’re probably right. Santiago would have cheated on me like his father did to his mother.” The lie rolled off her tongue easily. She had no doubt in Santiago’s ability to remain faithful to her after they’d made love the first time. He cherished her. Adored her. And for far longer than she’d realized. His mother’s observation had exposed his long-held secret desire for her. That, and they’d drawn together emotionally after their honeymoon. Every time she was with Santiago, sexually or otherwise, she grew closer to him. Her heart had signed on with her body for the man. And that only made the sex more incredible. Because they loved.
Love enhanced their chemistry and now, sitting here looking at the madman she once admired, she was grateful they’d tried just about everything once, twice or more if they liked it.
Pretend this rope is silk, not hemp. She ignored the slice of pain her movements caused and the slick feel of her blood sliding against her skin.
More adrenaline fired into her nerves, clarifying her thoughts. She’d believed her uncle was normal, maybe not as progressive as she, but able to see the validity of moving forward instead of hurtling their country back a century in time. But then, he’d revealed his penchant to keep women seen and not heard from the minute he’d gotten her out of the castle.
The man loved to talk when no one could interrupt him or give a counter-argument. And she’d listened, pretending to sleep while Pieter blabbered on and on about his world view to his silent henchman.
Even her parents had been willing to let go of the past to give their daughters a different future. “I had no idea you wanted an excuse to attack Valdoria,” she said without revealing a trace of the anger and frustration pinging along her nerves. Years of preparing for her role as Valdoria’s queen had more than prepared her for this feigned nonchalance and poise. “Perhaps if I’d been clued in, I could have helped you.” Another bold-faced lie but she’d say anything to gain more time to free herself.
The rope loosened and her wrists moved out of the loops. She gulped in a huge breath, willed her racing pulse to slow down enough for her to focus on escaping. Just a few more seconds, and she’d be free of the rope binding her.
Her uncle laughed. “I doubt you could do anything but count the money and profits I’d have gained for myself and Menkara.” He turned around to grab a glass and poured himself another drink from the decanter located next to the water pitcher. “Too bad I’ll have to hire someone now.”
She chewed the inside of her cheek to stop herself from responding. Her indignation at his insult toward her intelligence would be wasted on Pieter. He clearly had draconian beliefs and was too far gone mentally to reason with at this point.
And to think she’d once believed the man capable of civility. No. He didn’t know the meaning of the word. Don’t let him know how you feel about him. You need all your strength to save yourself. And to save her countries.
Then she’d figure out how to save Santiago from himself. Because like it or not, they’d been joined for life and she wanted that life. The one they’d dreamed about having together.
The last of the rope binding fell off as the sound of voices shouting outside and the pounding of fists on the door reverberated in the room. One sounded stronger than the rest…
The pain in her chest lightened and another surge of adrenaline coursed through her veins, making every single atom in her body vibrate. Santiago! He found her gift. He understood…
“What the hell is that bastard doing here?” Uncle Pieter dropped his glass, the splintering shards scattering on the planked floor, and rushed toward Ilsa.
“Oh no, you don’t,” she said, kicking her foot out to trip him.
The door burst open and Santiago filled the opening. Sunlight haloed around his body and face and his eyes… those black as night eyes searched the room until they locked onto hers while he moved toward her.
She struggled to stand, to reach the man she loved, but her uncle captured her ankle and dragged her back. “You’ll never stop the war,” Pieter cried.
She fell, hitting her head on the edge of the table adjacent to her chair. Stars burst behind her eyes and pain shot into her temples, blinding her temporarily. She kicked away her uncle’s groping fingers, gunfire popped in the room and suddenly her uncle’s grip slackened, but not before another shot rang out and the impact of the bullet ricocheted into her shoulder.
“No… no…” She heard Santiago’s voice calling and screaming her name before everything went black.
* * *
“Ilsa,” Santiago screamed while simultaneously shooting Pieter who’d raised his gun to take another shot with the last ounce of life he had in him.
“Get him out of here. Send in a medic,” Santiago ordered, racing to her side. “Bella, eres mia, mi amor. Please…” Dios. She was still as death, blood stained the back of her silk shirt and her wrists had turned to a pulpy mess. “Don’t you dare die now.” Not when only she could complete him and he wanted a lifetime to prove it to her. “I’m sorry. So sorry it’ll take me the rest of my life to make up for my mistake. Please… I love you. If I lose you…” His voice caught in his throat and he couldn’t stop the first of his tears from streaming down his face.
He’d abandoned her and now he could lose her forever. “Where’s the damned medic?” he yelled, ripping his shirt off and pressing it against the wound to stem the flow of blood.
“Ohhhh…,” she moaned and shifted slightly. “Hurts…”
A band squeezed around his chest and pain stabbed behind his eyes. He swiped them and the wet
ness in them dampened his hand. “You’re going to be fine.” Silently, he called upon every god in the universe to make his promise come true. The chain he’d fastened around his neck the minute he’d discovered it on her vanity table burned against his skin. The royal rings clinked together, reminding him of everything they had fought for in their short marriage. “I won’t let you die.”
“Don’t worry,” she said, her voice a bit stronger. “I haven’t got plans to go into that good night just yet. Too much to do here.” She moved to sit, and he brought her into his lap, sheltering her in his arms.
Heat radiated through him and the pain behind his breastbone subsided. She sounded determined, and he heard the hint of affection for him too. “I don’t deserve you.” He combed his fingers through her tangled blonde hair while still holding his shirt to her shoulder wound. “But I want you more than anything. I was a fool to push you away. Please say you’ll forgive me. Please give me another chance to prove how much I love you. How much I’ve always loved you.”
“Will you still love me if someone else falsely accuses me of a crime?”
“Si. Please believe me.”
She studied him as if double checking his sincerity, but then her gaze softened when she glanced down and then back up again. “You found my present.” Ilsa played with their royal rings which dangled below the base of his throat. “I suppose that makes you capable of understanding a great deal when it comes to being the kind of husband I want now and in the future.”
His breath bottled in his lungs, then the weight he’d been carrying in his heart lifted. Everything in her eyes reflected more than trust… love mirrored in her steady gaze. He’d move mountains to keep that love there. “I’m a bit of a slow learner.” He dropped his forehead to hers. “But I’m willing to take remedial lessons for the rest of my life if you’ll let me.”
Wrong Prince, Right Lover Page 11
