The third day there was still no word from Phillip, and she began to suspect that the staff expected her to leave. But she desperately needed to see Phillip and confess everything to him, so she waited. Again she rode Eros, this time along the beach, kicking up billows of white sand as she stared out at the horizon, watching for the sail of Phillip’s boat. In the evening she added to her story of a young woman who was gifted with animals but couldn’t make sense of her own life.
On the fourth day, late in the afternoon, Alex saw a tiny blue speck from the beach, and it slowly became a sail that grew larger and larger as it approached the shore, and her heart fluttered with hope. She knew it was Phillip!
She returned Eros to his stall, asked a stable boy to unsaddle him and see to his brushing, then she ran down to the dock and sat watching as Phillip dropped first the triangular jib to the bow of the ship, then the larger mainsail, and the yacht glided up against the wooden pilings. He threw a line around one, and secured it, seemingly unaware of her presence.
“Hi, sailor,” she murmured softly when he’d come close enough to hear her.
He visibly stiffened, kept his back to her, and said nothing.
“I know you think I’m a terribly shallow, money-grubbing female, but I assure you I’m not after your fortune.”
He swung around on her, his eyes dark fires, consuming her. “No? Then what are you after, Alex?” He didn’t give her time to answer. “Never mind, I don’t want to know.”
“It’s not fair if you won’t even listen to what I have to say,” she pleaded.
“It wasn’t fair of you to accuse me of being a bad father, when you can’t possibly know what I’m thinking or even if I am the father.”
“I don’t suppose it is fair,” she whispered. “I was acting on an emotional level.”
The tension between them was hot and sharp and nearly unbearable. Alex wished she had left. If she’d just been able to walk away from Phillip, he’d never have known who she really was. But she had to try one last time. She owed him an honest explanation.
“Emotions are something I’ve tried to live without,” he muttered. “Maybe you’d do better to do the same.”
She closed her eyes briefly and suffered the pain of his accusations in a silent moment. She supposed she deserved this torture. “Phillip, I—”
“Forget it, Alex. I’m not angry with you anymore. You can think what you like of me. I will do what I believe is right and not ask for your approval. We had a few good days together. Let’s leave it at that. I’m sure you have a lot of work to catch up on at the king’s stables as well as back home in Chicago.”
He was telling her to leave, that he never wanted to see her again. She dropped her glance to the ground and fought off the terrible sense of rejection. If he didn’t want to hear the truth, why bother? It would only add fuel to his argument, only make him think worse of her, if that was possible.
“By the time I pack tonight, it will be too late to show up at the palace with so little warning,” she whispered. “I’ll leave in the morning, if that’s all right with you.”
“Fine,” he said, turning away from her to coil a dock line.
She stood for a few more minutes, watching him finish with the ropes, then fold the jib into a canvas bag. He was making himself busy, ignoring her. With a bitter taste in her mouth and a weeping heart, she turned back toward the house.
It was after midnight, and Phillip lay in bed. He hadn’t been able to rest in one position for more than five minutes. He doubted he’d be able to sleep at all, but tomorrow he’d meet with Barnaby, Angelica and her attorney to come to some sort of agreement, and it promised to be an exhausting day. He needed a clear head to face whatever transpired, but all he could think about was Alex. Tomorrow she would walk out of his life, and he wouldn’t stop her.
At last his eyes closed, but his sleep was troubled. He dreamt of a woman with green eyes and pale ivory skin. They stood in his garden, but not a flower bloomed there. She was carrying something in her arms. He walked up to her, feeling an overwhelming burst of anger. He shouted something ugly at the woman, who was clearly Alex, for no one had eyes like hers. Emerald pools. He felt badly for making her cry. He gentled his voice and spoke to her again, but she didn’t answer. She looked up at him, and the sorrow in her eyes nearly broke his heart. Slowly, he reached out to peel back the pink blanket that covered whatever she carried.
It was a baby.
The child in her arms began to squall and squirm. He reached out in the dream, took the babe from her arms and rocked it against his chest. He smelled the powder-fresh scent of baby, felt her warm, new life move within his cradling arms, and his heart swelled.
It was his baby, his and Alex’s. Nothing had ever seemed more precious, more beautiful to him.
Throwing off the covers, Phillip sat up in bed, sweating profusely, shivering when the ocean air through his window hit his damp skin. He raked a hand through his hair and gave it a hard tug, trying to force himself back to reality.
The dream had seemed so very real. Even now, fully awake, he felt an inexplicable loss deep in his gut, as if he’d thrown away a treasure of incalculable value. As if he’d rejected life itself. The life of his progeny.
Striding from the room in only his briefs, he tore down the hallway, found the door behind which Alex slept, opened it and stepped through without knocking.
His breath caught in his throat. She lay on the bed, a pale peach nightgown flowing around her still body. She slept deeply, peacefully, he thought at first—but every now and then she frowned in her sleep and moaned as if in pain. He moved closer to her.
“Alex,” he whispered.
She didn’t stir.
He stretched out on the bed alongside her and gently touched a wisp of ebony hair trailing across her eyelid. Moving it aside, he kissed her feathery, dark lashes then lifted her arm away from her body. Phillip slid himself closer to her and felt the warmth of her body against his chest, his thighs.
He kissed her cheek. Kissed the tip of her nose. Kissed her sleep-warm lips and lingered there, savoring their sweetness. Her eyes drifted open but she didn’t pull away.
Slowly, the initial tension in her body of realizing she wasn’t alone, melted away. “What are you doing?” she whispered between his parted lips.
“I’m saying I’m sorry for treating you so badly when you were just being honest with me. You told me how you felt about men who ran out on their children. I shouldn’t have taken it personally. I should have just told you what was going on.”
“About the honesty part,” she began, “I have something to tell you, and it can’t wait.”
He shook his head. “There’s too much happening right now, Alex. Let me deal with this lawsuit first. I don’t want you to become tangled up in that mess. After I’ve straightened that out, we can talk all you want about us. If you want there to be an us.”
“I do,” she said, tears clinging like liquid jewels to her fine lashes. “I do want to find a way to—”
“Hush,” he said, covering her lips with his.
This time he was prepared. Before leaving his own bedroom he’d hastily foraged in his night table and found the protection he’d left there. Now he quickly slid off his briefs and, as Alex watched him with wide, gleaming eyes, he smoothed the latex over his full erection.
He burned for her. He needed her as he’d needed no other woman in his life. And if his dream had any truth to it, this simple young woman who had lived half her life in stables would become an even more important part of his life.
He moved over her body and smiled down at her. “Why look so apprehensive, Alex? I said I’m sorry.” He ran a hand inside her nightdress, stroking upward along her silky thigh, to her hip, the flat of her stomach then found her breast. The nipple hardened and peaked between his thumb and forefinger. He rubbed it until he felt her go limp beneath him. “Let’s make love now. Let’s not think about tomorrow or any other day.”
H
er arms came up around his neck and she gave him a weak smile. “All right,” she said. “Make me remember tonight forever.” Her voice held a finality he didn’t understand. But his desire for her was so strong he didn’t ask what she meant. Now was not a time for talk.
Phillip slid his hands beneath her hips to raise and angle them just slightly toward him. Moving his own hips below hers, he thrust himself forward and up. She opened herself to him at just the right moment, and wrapped her long legs around his waist. He drove himself into her hot, moist center. Arching her back, she met him with equal passion, and together they reached heights he’d never believed possible.
Alex woke only once during the night. She lay in Phillip’s arms and wished it could be like this forever. Even then she knew that was impossible.
He believed they had made up and everything was all right. But she knew better. Although he’d reassured her that he would do the right thing for Angelica, or for any other woman who had his baby, if it should come to that, she still hadn’t told him the truth about herself. Time was running out. If he went to the reception at the palace next weekend, someone there was bound to give her away. Someone would tell him that she was a Connelly, the sister of the new king, not an employee.
Time was running very short indeed.
Nine
Phillip lay only half-awake. He waited until Alex stirred against his body. Neither had bothered putting on anything to sleep in, and a cool breeze blew off the Mediterranean, freshening the room and everything in it. From the angle of the sun, he supposed it might be nearly ten o’clock. He hadn’t slept so blissfully, so deeply in a very long time.
He touched Alex’s shoulder, wondering how long she would stay with him. Part of him wanted that to be forever, but another part still fought permanency. He’d learned the hard way that the price for commitment could be harsh. He never wanted to make that mistake again. But Alex…wasn’t she different? She might have secrets, but he would earn her trust and wean them from her.
“I’m awake,” she whispered. “Kiss me.”
“Yes, m’lady,” he said and did so.
Her lips tasted like honey. Her breath was sweet and her body ripe. He would have liked to make love to her again, but there had been a reason he’d returned to Altaria when he did.
“I have to get up,” he said regretfully. “The hearing is today.” He felt her body tense, then she turned her head to one side and those green eyes that had captured his heart from the moment he’d first seen them gazed up at him with concern.
“What will happen, Phillip? I mean, I know you think it’s impossible. But if it turns out that you are the father, will you—” She hesitated.
“If you’re trying to say, will I marry Angelica, forget it. I doubt that’s what she wants anyway. Barnaby seems to think she’s after a quick, out-of-court settlement. A fat onetime handout. But I’m not sure.”
Alex frowned. “Then what’s your theory?”
“It’s my guess there’s more to this that we know at this point. Barnaby’s already mentioned the danger of Angelica coming back, holding the child’s welfare over me to demand more money, over and over again.”
“That’s almost as bad as blackmail.”
“It’s extortion of a sort, true.” He smoothed one wide hand down the side of Alex’s body, over her hip and outer thigh. She felt like warm satin, and he loved lingering in her bed like this.
“So what will you do?”
“Go and hear what she and her lawyer have to say. Listen carefully, and try to do what’s right. I won’t lie and say I’ve never seen the woman before, even though that might be the wisest move. I’ve never lied in my life and can’t abide people who do.” He thought he saw her wince. “What’s wrong, Alex?”
“Nothing,” she said. “I’m just worried…that you’ll still end up being caught up in her scam.”
He laughed and pulled her out from beneath the sheets and into his arms. Her fingertips curled against his bare chest and laced through the wiry dark curls. She was warm and caring and marvelous. “I would like you to come with me this morning.”
She turned in his arms to look up at him. “Why?”
“I’m not sure. Perhaps another set of ears to hear the woman’s story and tell me if it rings true. You seem to be a good judge of character—horses’ and people’s. Having another woman’s viewpoint represented might be a good thing, too.”
“All right,” she agreed, but he sensed reluctance in her tone. He didn’t ask why. There wasn’t time for lengthy discussion. They were supposed to be at the lawyer’s office at noon.
Phillip let her down gently onto the bed. “I’ll go shower and leave you to get ready. We should head for town in an hour. I promised Barnaby we’d meet him twenty minutes early in case he had any more information by then.”
Alex nodded, then watched Phillip as he left her room. A confusing mix of emotions struggled against each other within her. She had been overjoyed when he came to her the night before. But she knew in her heart that his return changed nothing. A lie stood between them as immovable as a stone wall, and it was clearer to her than ever that revealing the truth to him would make him trust her less, not more.
What was she to do? She didn’t have a clue.
Alex took a long, very hot shower, putting off the moment when she must step out of the soothing rush of water and face the day. Phillip was in no state of mind to hear her confession on the way to the hearing. Yet, if she waited even another hour, wasn’t she just avoiding the inevitable? Her stomach felt as if it had tied itself in one huge knot.
Without giving her outfit much thought, she dressed in the only suit she’d brought on the trip—a simple tan linen with a short skirt—and conservative heels. It had been the outfit she had intended to wear away from her wedding reception when she left on her honeymoon with Robert.
How long ago that day seemed. It almost seemed part of another woman’s life, certainly not hers. She was glad she had left her fiancé, glad she had found Phillip. It was strange how things sometimes worked out when you least expected them to. Perhaps, with a great deal of luck, it would be that way for her when she finally told Phillip who she was. She could always hope.
Alex stepped out onto the purple wisteria-shaded veranda of the villa and looked out over the distant water. The Mediterranean called to her. She remembered their weekend of adventure. Free of money. Free of all cares. It had seemed so perfect.
Strange. She had never felt so alive as during those two days. Life had never seemed so real, or so full of promise.
“There’s time for a quick breakfast, if you like.” Phillip was seated at a white wicker table spread with pastries and a carafe of coffee. But her stomach soured at the mention of food.
“Nothing for me, thanks,” she murmured.
Phillip stood and walked over to her. He looked down at her. “Then I guess we should go. Are you ready?”
“If you are.” An unfamiliar noise caught Alex’s attention. She turned toward the stables. Shouts and three loud bangs that sounded like something hard whacking against wood came from that direction. “Do you hear that?”
Phillip scowled and cocked his head as if to listen better. “Could be the stable lads are having trouble with one of the horses.”
The shouts grew more strident, frantic. Alex couldn’t imagine what was going on. She moved forward and gripped the veranda’s rail with both hands. “It sounds as if it’s coming from the stalls at this end.”
“Yes.” Phillip was already moving down the steps.
“That’s where Eros is stabled!” she called after him.
He didn’t answer but broke into a run. Alex took off after him as fast as her dress pumps allowed. Her heart thudded in her chest. Her mouth had gone dry. Eros!
Please don’t let anything happen to him! she thought frantically. She’d grown to love the horse, she now realized, almost as much as she loved his master.
By the time they reached the long, white bar
n, an explosion of yells, crashes and curses met them. From inside the dark interior, Alex glimpsed a flash of lustrous black then heard the unmistakable heaving of a horse’s frightened breathing. Hooves pounded in rapid syncopation against packed dirt. Alex looked to her right. Eros’s stall was empty The horse was running wild.
“Eros is loose!” she shouted at Phillip.
He swore under his breath and dashed inside the stable. Alex raced after him.
“Where is he?” Phillip shouted at one of the younger stable boys, who appeared to be running away from instead of toward the commotion.
“Round the other aisle now, sir. He broke out while we was cleanin’ his stall. Sorry, we didn’t—”
“Never mind that now!” Phillip snapped. “Throw me that rope and bridle!”
Alex stood for a moment, hands braced on her knees as she tried to catch her breath. But Phillip was off and running again, disappearing between two stalls. She ran to catch up with him.
She might not be the experienced trainer she’d pretended to be, but Alex sensed that the panicky shouts filling the stable weren’t going to help Phillip’s staff calm or capture a frightened horse. Eros was too strong, too fast and easily capable of doing damage to people or property while he was caught up in fear.
She hesitated only a second before running for the tack room. Kicking off her dress shoes and ripping off panty hose, she reached for her riding boots. There was no time to change into breeches. She grabbed a crop and rushed back into the straw-covered alley that ran the length of the stable. No one was in sight, and all sounds indicated the action had moved to the far side of the yard.
Once outside, she could see a line of young men waving their arms over their heads and screaming, “Alt! Alt!”
She caught a glimpse of Phillip trying to herd the huge black gelding toward them, obviously hoping the human fence would contain the animal. If cornered, Phillip must have thought, the horse might then be captured.
The Royal & The Runaway Bride (Dynasties: The Connellys Book 7) Page 12
