The Royal & The Runaway Bride (Dynasties: The Connellys Book 7)

by Kathryn Jensen

  “No!” he shouted, knowing that no matter how good a rider she was, no matter how much Eros trusted her, the animal’s terror would get the better of him. They were headed for disaster. “Alex, don’t do it!”

  But a wild fire shone in Alex’s eyes and she ignored him. Phillip wanted to close his eyes. He did hold his breath. He gripped the fence on either side of him, and time seemed to stand still as dust flew from beneath Eros’s hooves and the ground trembled and the horse sped past him heading directly for the jump.

  Alex leaned forward in the saddle, standing in the stirrups, her legs acting as springs, ready to absorb the impact of landing on the other side of the rail. A few meters before the jump, Eros balked, tossing his head and refusing to take to air. His big body twisted and he wrenched himself about, setting his hooves. Alex, unprepared for the sudden stop, was helpless to retain her seat. Thrown over the horse’s head, she tumbled to the hard ground, landing with a sickening crack.

  Phillip’s heart pounded in his chest. His eyes burned, and for breathless seconds he couldn’t make himself move. Alex didn’t move, either. Eros pawed the dust, whinnied and danced nervously.

  At last, a groom raced into the ring, grabbed the horse’s reins and led him away, looking at Phillip as if he must be mad. As if he were to blame for the woman’s recklessness! Others quickly gathered outside the rails, but no one dared say a thing. “Alex!” he breathed, breaking out of his paralysis and running to her.

  Two

  Alex’s first awareness that anything had gone wrong was the sudden pressure of hard earth beneath her body, where a leather saddle had been moments earlier. She made herself lie absolutely still, not daring to move. It was a position she remembered with no fondness from her teenage years, the last time she’d seriously ridden. The last time she’d jumped.

  She kept her eyes closed and, one body part at a time, assessed her condition. Her head—aside from a dull headache, it didn’t feel bad. Thank goodness she’d worn a helmet. Her back—she gently contracted the muscles and felt her spine respond, straightening just a fraction of an inch but enough to reassure her that all was in working order. Her legs—she wiggled her toes and tightened the muscles in her legs. Her arms—well, the fingers could flex. She tried to push herself up onto one elbow now that things appeared to be functioning. A flash of white-hot pain sliced through her left shoulder.

  “Ow!” she moaned and fell back down to the ground.

  “Don’t try to get up!” a masculine voice ordered. “Devon,” Phillip shouted to one of his stable boys, “call Doctor Elgado. Tell him we need him immediately.”

  “What happened?” Alex asked foggily, honestly remembering nothing beyond the moment she’d come around the circle after taking Eros over the rails laid out on the ground.

  “You missed a two footer.”

  She scowled and felt Phillip’s hand slide gently beneath her head, pillowing it and raising it even with the line of her neck and spine. “Why’d I do a dumb thing like—” Then it came back to her. Her little deception. Horse trainer, indeed!

  “I’m sorry, Alex. Dear God, I’m so sorry.” Phillip’s voice was choked with emotion. “I just assumed you knew best. I should never have let you try to jump him.”

  “He was doing so well…” she murmured, lapsing into a spell of dizziness.

  “And you looked magnificent up there. Don’t waste your strength trying to talk. Do you know where you’re injured? Is it your back?”

  “No, I think I’m okay there. But my shoulder, the one closest to your hand—”

  His fingers softly kneaded the area around her shoulder blade, then forward in the soft hollow between her armpit and breast. She felt the area warm and tingle to his touch. Then she winced at the sudden sharp pain.

  “Yes, there,” she said tightly.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you. I can’t tell if anything’s broken. My physician will be here soon.”

  She nodded. The ring’s dusty surface felt as hard as the limestone cliff she’d climbed earlier that day. “Do you think we could wait somewhere more comfortable?”

  “I don’t want to move you if there’s any chance of spinal injury.”

  “I’m sure there’s not,” she said. “Everything moves. No numbness anywhere, no pain except in the shoulder.”

  “You can’t walk,” he objected, “and if I try to carry you I might hurt you.”

  “This isn’t exactly cozy down here,” she said dryly. “Besides, you owe me, Prince.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he grumbled.

  She opened her eyes to peek up at him as he carefully positioned himself over her and slipped one arm beneath her, taking care to support the injured shoulder against his chest as he rolled her toward him. When he lifted her, she felt a flash of raw fire in her shoulder and she squeezed her eyes shut. But she knew he was doing his best not to hurt her anymore. Once she was fully enclosed in his arms and he was standing erect, the pain lessened.

  He carried her past rows of concerned faces as stable boys and household staff looked on.

  “Someone ought to teach that horse the difference between up and down,” she grumbled aloud. Relieved laughter from his staff rewarded her effort to lighten the atmosphere.

  “Is there anything I can do, sir?” a woman in an apron asked worriedly.

  “Have Juan wait at the gate for the doctor and bring him straight to the parlor. Mint tea might be nice,” he added vaguely.

  “Brandy would be nicer,” said Alex. “In a very big glass.”

  The woman chuckled. “Brave girl. Brandy she is.” She cast Phillip a chastising glare. “Why you not warn her?”

  “I did—I did!” He let explanations go on a long sigh.

  Alex said nothing more until he had laid her down on a long, soft settee arranging pillows beneath her head and neck to support her. Pulling up a leather hassock, he sat close beside her, holding her hand between his two and bringing her fingertips to his bowed forehead as he closed his eyes tightly and muttered something to himself.

  “What was that?” Alex asked.

  “I’m sorry. I’m so very— I know Eros better than you. I should never have let you take him past a simple canter. It’s just that you’d convinced me that you were on the right track. All that talk about Eros’s fears, starting at the beginning, building his confidence.”

  “Well, it’s what a rider does after she takes a fall so I figured why shouldn’t it work with a horse?” He looked blankly at her. “I mean,” she added hastily, “it’s worked so well with other horses I’ve trained.”

  “You’re a daring young woman.” He shook his head and kissed her knuckles, his eyes wandering as he became lost in thought. She wondered if he was even aware of the intimacy of their position—he bending over her, his large hands enclosing her small one, his warm mouth lingering against the flesh of her curled fingers.

  They stayed like that for a while longer, and she didn’t move, didn’t pull her hand away. Didn’t even want to lose touch with him. She knew that it was guilt, keeping him here beside her. But she didn’t mind as long as he stayed.

  At last Phillip looked down at her and rolled his amber eyes in dismay. “How can I show you how sorry I am for this?”

  She followed the line of his strong jaw with a lingering gaze. “Maybe I’ll think of something,” she murmured. He was incredibly handsome. Reckless, impulsive thoughts came to mind. Visions of his wide hands touching her in more intimate places. She felt a steamy flush wash over her entire body.

  There was a commotion in the hallway outside the parlor and an older man in tropical casuals burst through the door and hastily crossed the room. He was carrying a small leather case and he immediately pushed Phillip aside to get close to Alex. “Your boy tells me the young lady took a bad fall.”

  “Yes, Doctor. She was on Eros.”

  “Couldn’t you have found a more reliable mount for her?” he chided Phillip. “Last time you jumped him, it was a fiasco.” Alex got
the impression that the doctor must also be involved with European jumping to be so aware of the horse’s problems.

  “I’ll explain later. Just look to her, will you?” Phillip snapped irritably.

  Alex smiled, amused by his impatience. It was clear he was going to suffer through the disapproval of a lot of people for a long time because of her accident.

  The doctor made everyone including Phillip leave the room while he opened her blouse and examined her shoulder, then he listened to her heart and checked her reflexes.

  “Well?” she asked when he was done.

  “You are in amazingly good shape for the spill you took, miss. But that shoulder is sprained. You’ll need to wear a sling to rest it until it heals.”

  “How long will that take?” she asked.

  He frowned, looking uncertain. “I’d give it a few weeks.” He took supplies from his bag. “This might hurt a bit while I adjust the tension of the sling. Do you want Phillip back in the room to hold your hand?”

  She thought for a moment. “No. A little more of this fine brandy will do.” She took four very long swallows, draining the snifter. Immediately, a heady stream of warmth flowed through her throat, filling her chest and rushing out to the tips of her toes and fingers. She shut her eyes and braced herself. “Go for it, doc.”

  Phillip paced the vestibule while his housekeeper looked on worriedly. “Are you sure, sir, there is nothing I can—”

  “Nothing, Maria. Thank you. Just go on with—” He waved a dismissing hand. “Whatever.” No doubt she had been preparing their luncheon, which would never be eaten now.

  Alone again, he stared helplessly at the closed door to the parlor. A single sharp cry of pain made him jump. He took three hasty steps toward the door, his hand reaching out for the knob. Then he stopped himself. The doctor had sent him out for good reason. He must respect Alex’s right to privacy.

  Phillip bit down on his lower lip so hard he tasted the salt of his own blood. The outside door opened.

  It was Paulus. “I was taking a walk through your fine garden while I waited, and heard there had been an accident.”

  “Alex, yes. But she’s all right. The doctor says it’s a sprain.” Phillip had been listening at the door, unable to wait for an official announcement.

  “I’ll call the palace and inform them.”

  “Yes,” Phillip said, realizing that was probably something he should have been doing instead of all this useless pacing. “Thank you.”

  A moment later, the door still hadn’t opened and Paulus returned. “King Daniel says I’m to bring her back with me as soon as the doctor says she is able to be moved.”

  “Oh.” A shadow of dull, gray disappointment fell over Phillip. Why had he assumed Alex would remain here with him? “No,” he said hastily.

  “No?”

  “It was my fault, the accident. I didn’t warn her strongly enough. She should remain under my roof to recuperate.”

  The man hesitated. “I…well, that’s not the king’s wish. It isn’t for me to say whether—”

  “She’ll stay here,” Phillip stated, his mind made up. “I’ll speak with King Daniel. She shouldn’t be moved any more than is necessary.” He didn’t know that to be a fact, but it sounded a good enough reason. “I’m responsible for her condition, and I should see to her recovery.”

  Paulus looked puzzled but didn’t argue further. “I will return to the palace with your message.”

  “I’ll call as soon as I have my physician’s report.”

  Phillip turned back toward the parlor door. It was quiet now inside. He hoped that was good news.

  Alex was barely aware of the doctor leaving the room. The brandy had numbed her, and the pain in her shoulder had retreated to a dull ache as soon as the doctor finished messing with the sling. She nestled into the soft cushions of Phillip’s settee and drifted off to sleep.

  She floated.

  For the first time in weeks Alex felt detached from the terrible disappointment that had chased her halfway around the world to her brother’s new home, Altaria. She hadn’t planned to attend the ball in his honor, but it had provided a welcome escape from her troubles.

  She remembered Robert’s words as he spoke to her friend Jessy and the cruel sound of his laughter, slurred by too much alcohol. “Love Alex? You’ve got to be kidding. But marrying her is well worth the sacrifice of my freedom in exchange for all I’ll gain from Connelly Corporation.”

  She remembered every word as clearly as if he stood before her now, speaking them anew. Oh how she wished she’d listened to Justin’s words of warning. He knew that Robert was a womanizer, that Robert was just using her. Why hadn’t she seen the man for what he was? Tears filled her eyes as she slept.

  A hand brushed the dampness from cheek. She blinked her eyes open.

  Phillip bent over her, his honey-colored eyes concerned. “Is the pain bad?”

  “No,” she whispered.

  “It hurts enough to cry.”

  She shook her head. “That’s something else. I’m being silly. Never mind.”

  He frowned, obviously confused, but she wasn’t about to explain her aborted wedding to him.

  “I’ve arranged for you to stay here,” he said.

  “What?” She looked up at him, astonished. “Why would I want to do that?”

  “You were injured on my property, so I’m responsible for your recovery. I intend to see to your care.”

  “I see. And that will soothe your conscience?”

  “Conscience aside, it’s only right.”

  “I don’t know…” She tried to pull herself into a sitting position, but a sudden tightness in her shoulder promised pain she didn’t want to feel and she settled back down against the pillows. “The doctor said I’ll be fine walking around as long as I don’t move this.” She glanced sideways at her shoulder, resting in the white cotton sling. “He expects I’ll be pretty much back to normal in a couple of weeks.”

  “I suppose you’d be more comfortable back in Chicago, in your own home.”

  Back at Lake Shore Manor, she thought dismally, her parents’ home. Not in the house she had planned to share with Robert, before her dreams had shattered.

  “I suppose,” she murmured.

  “Oh, I almost forgot. The palace aide left a note for you.” He held out a folded piece of paper.

  It was a telephone message taken by one of the palace secretaries in a pointy European-style script. It was from Robert. As she read it, ice crystals formed in her heart.

  “Not bad news, I hope?” he asked.

  Very bad news. Robert wanted her to come home. Robert wanted to explain his flirtation with Kimberly Lindgren and his disturbing comments to Jessy, to make things right, to try again and set a new date for the wedding.

  Fat chance, buddy, she thought, tears nearly coming to her eyes again. She hadn’t known him as well as she’d thought she did. Just well enough to realize that the words he’d spoken to her maid of honor the night before their wedding were from the heart and true to his character.

  Robert didn’t love her. Perhaps she’d sensed that from the start but refused to admit it to herself. She had so desperately wanted love, marriage, a family of her own, and there he was offering her these things in his oh-so-charming way. But he loved only what she could bring him—wealth, her father’s power and influence, a future of success that depended little on his own effort or ingenuity.

  And if she didn’t return to Chicago, what then? He would come after her. She was certain of that much because he was a determined man. Without her, without their marriage, he had nothing but a midmanagement position with her father’s company. That is, if Grant didn’t fire him outright once she explained to her parents her sudden disappearance from Chicago. She hadn’t yet found the strength to talk about her reasons for walking out on Robert on the eve of their wedding. Nor had she found the nerve to face Robert again. But she could at least make it difficult for him to find her until she was read
y to face him.

  “I’ll stay,” she said quickly.

  “Really?” Phillip looked surprised after her earlier refusal.

  “Yes,” she said and slid him a playful smile. “If only to milk your guilt.”

  He grimaced. “It wasn’t my intention that you fall!”

  “I know that,” she said, settling back against a fluffy pillow. “Still, if you should feel a teensy bit responsible you could bring me a cup of that wonderful smelling bouillabaisse you promised.”

  He grinned. “It’s as good as done.”

  Phillip didn’t know how long he could keep Alex in resting mode. She was like a little kid, constantly trying to find excuses to leave the couch when she was supposed to be quiet and not stress her shoulder. Although he could easily have asked his housekeeper or any one of the others on his staff to fetch things for her, he felt obligated to wait on her, personally. His employees found this highly entertaining, but he didn’t care. He’d make sure she gave her shoulder a chance to heal if it killed him.

  By the time he returned to the parlor on the third day of her stay, carrying a steaming cup of Earl Grey tea and a plump raisin scone, she was sitting on the edge of the settee.

  “The doctor said you should rest. Lie down and I’ll pour for you,” he offered.

  “I’m uncomfortable,” she complained, pouting at him. “Too much of this lying around must be bad for the circulation. I want to go outside.” She peered out the window. “It looks beautiful out there.”

  “Rest,” he said.

  “I could rest just as well on the chaise lounge on the terrace, I’ll bet my shoulder would warm up in the sunshine and heal faster.” She started to stand up.

  He set the tray down with a sigh. “Very well, the terrace it is.”

  She laughed at him as he scooped her up in his arms and strode out the open French doors into the Mediterranean sunshine. He deposited her on a cushioned chaise and looked down at her. “Better?”

  “Much,” she said. “Thank you.”