by Trish Morey / Caitlin Crews / Nina Harrington / Raye Morgan
His head jerked back as though she’d slapped him. “No, Julienne,” he said coldly. “I’ve had to deal with my own disappointments. Being royal gives us some incredible benefits. At the same time it means we aren’t allowed to live like others do.” He sighed and looked out at the midnight lake. “Sometimes it doesn’t seem fair. Sometimes it isn’t. But it remains our reality.”
She stared at him, wondering what had happened. From the haunted look in his deep blue eyes, she knew something had.
“Tell me,” she whispered. She reached out but she couldn’t quite touch him. “Tell me what happened to you.”
He gave her a scathing look and turned away. “Nothing happened to me.”
She didn’t believe that, but she could see he wasn’t going to tell her anything. “The thing about Alphonso is—”
He rose abruptly. “Enough. I don’t need to hear all these complaints about Alphonso. It’s your duty to marry him.”
Walking to the desk along the far wall, he sank into the chair and pulled out a stack of papers, beginning to sort through them. She watched for a moment, then rose herself and began to stroll around the room, looking at various pieces of art on the bookshelves, and at some of the books stacked there, too.
But, inevitably, she was drawn to the desk where he was working.
“So you’re missing a secretary?” she noted, looking over his shoulder at the letter he was reading.
“That I am,” he acknowledged, giving her a quick smile.
She bit her lip. A new idea suddenly occurred to her. At first thought it seemed a real winner, though she had a feeling he wasn’t going to agree. Still—nothing ventured, nothing gained. She might as well throw it out there and see what his reaction might be.
“Hey, I could be your secretary.”
He looked up in surprise, then a look of distaste swept over his handsome face. “No, you couldn’t.”
But the more she thought about it, the more she liked the idea. “Yes. Don’t you see? It would be perfect.”
He shook his head, dismissing it out of hand. “You’re a princess.”
She blinked at him. “Princesses can’t be secretaries?”
“No.” As far as he was concerned he’d said the final word on the subject, and he went back to sorting through his papers.
She knew it was probably a lost cause, but she wasn’t ready to abandon it just because he hated the idea. There were lots of things about it that appealed to her pretty strongly. And, anyway, anything was better than marrying Alphie.
“Wouldn’t it be fun, though?” she said, walking toward the window. “I mean, I’d be there all the time, and you could keep track of me and be sure I wasn’t getting into mischief. When you went to meetings I would be there with my laptop, typing away. Then we could go to lunch, maybe at a five star restaurant, and.”
“No.” He was watching her. How could he help it? And it was hard to keep the affectionate amusement he felt toward her transparent act from showing in his face.
She frowned at him, tapping her foot in frustration. “I think I’d make a much better secretary than I do a princess,” she pointed out. “You should want to encourage me to follow where my talents lie.”
“Your secretarial talents seem to tend toward early lunch in nice restaurants,” he noted wryly.
“I mentioned typing, didn’t I?”
“You mentioned it. But I’ve never seen any evidence of skill in that direction.”
“Maybe you should have read some of my letters,” she pointed out triumphantly.
He had to laugh. She had him there. But he sobered quickly, looking at her and shaking his head. “You don’t even know what is involved in being a princess,” he said. “You don’t have a clue. I’m just beginning to realize that no one has ever shown you what being royal is all about.”
She looked at him archly. “Wasn’t that your job?”
He sat back and stared at her, realizing the truth of her accusation. “Maybe. Yes, maybe so.”
She resumed walking about the room, though she was aware of his gaze following her everywhere she went.
“So far I haven’t seen a lot of advantage to being a princess,” she said over her shoulder. “There are a lot of rules to follow. Everyone seems to have an opinion on how you should behave at any given moment, and I never seem to be doing it right.”
“So what’s the plan, Julienne?” he asked her. “If you do manage to escape my evil clutches and get across the border, where will you go? What will you do?”
She turned to look at him. “I’m hoping it won’t come to that,” she said earnestly. “It would be so much better if you would just understand and take my side and … and maybe we could fix things so I wouldn’t have to run.”
She stared into his eyes and he stared back.
“It won’t work,” he said at last. “Everything we’ve fought for these last ten years would be destroyed. It just won’t work.”
She stood before him with her hands out, palms up, as though offering him something from her soul but not sure how to give it to him. She didn’t speak, but her eyes were pleading with him to find a way. Some way out.
CHAPTER FOUR
PRINCE ANDRE heard something at his door. He’d only been asleep for ten minutes or so and he was wide awake again in an instant. He went up on one elbow.
“Andre?”
It was Julienne, who should be asleep in the next room and not here, waking him. His first impulse was to tell her to go back to bed. Midnight meetings were way too dangerous to play around with. But maybe something was wrong. He had to find out.
“What is it?” he asked.
“Can I come in?”
He sighed. He should turn her down. He should tell her they would talk about whatever was going on with her in the morning. But he knew he wasn’t going to do that. He couldn’t.
“Yes, come on in. It’s not locked.”
The door opened and there she stood, her lovely form silhouetted by the living room light that made her nightgown disappear and left only a perfect view of her soft curves. His mouth went dry. Closing his eyes, he muttered an oath, and when that didn’t help he added a small, intense prayer.
But she came in anyway.
“Andre, I can’t sleep. This may be the last time we’re together like this. And I have to know something.”
“Okay,” he said, his voice strained and grainy. “Shoot.”
He was sitting up in the bed, his bare torso gleaming in the moonlight. She slid down to sit on the edge of the bed—so close—too close. He bit his lower lip, hard. Maybe pure pain would save him.
“We used to be friends,” she was saying softly. “I used to count on you for … a lot of things. Including emotional support.”
“I … yes,” he said lamely.
“You were so important to me. After my parents died it seemed like you were all I had in the world.”
He could hear the emotion in her voice and knew he had to do something to comfort her. He took her hand in his and held it tightly. “I know,” he said softly. “Julienne, I know.”
She drew in a shaky breath. “So why did you desert me?” she asked, her voice breaking. “Why didn’t you come to visit me these last two years and more?”
He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it, closing his eyes and wishing he could take her in his arms. She was so lovely and so close and he could feel her unhappiness. “I.I couldn’t come,” he told her lamely. “I had to stay away.”
She frowned, uncomprehending. “But why?”
He cupped her cheek with his free hand. Her hair was silver in the moonlight. “Do I really have to explain it to you?” he said, his voice rough as sandpaper.
“Yes.” She came closer. “I’m just not sure …”
He took her shoulders in his hands and faced her. “I wanted to come. Julienne, you know I wanted to.”
“Then why?” She searched the darkness of his eyes. “Did I do something to make you angry?”<
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“Angry?” He groaned. “Never.”
“Then why? Do you know how heartbroken I was when you stopped coming to see me?”
“Julienne …”
“Why?”
He drew air deep into his lungs and tried to explain. “Don’t you see? I had to stay away … because … because of this.” He took her chin in his hand and pulled her close, touching his lips to hers. Her lips parted right away and his tongue didn’t hesitate. He’d only meant to kiss her softly, but the invitation she presented was asking for more, and his body was so ready to bring it. She pressed herself to him and he pulled her even closer, so that he could feel her full breasts against his chest. The nipples were so high and hard he felt them through the light cloth of her nightgown, making him gasp. Every part of him ached for her, and it took every bit of his will and strength to pull away.
For a moment, struggling for breath, he couldn’t speak. He had to get her out of here.
“Now, get back to bed before we both do something we’ll regret,” he told her roughly, hoping she didn’t hear the thinly veiled panic in his voice.
“I wouldn’t regret anything I ever did with you,” she said with a sigh of yearning. Reaching out in the gloom, she flattened her hand against his naked chest.
“Julienne …” Her name sounded as though it had been ripped from his throat. He took her hand and pulled it away. “Go back where you belong.”
“Okay,” she said, rising reluctantly. She started away, then looked back. “That was lovely,” she said breathlessly. “Alphonso kisses like a baby seal.”
She left, closing the door, and Andre put his pillow over his head and tried to muffle the groan.
“Julienne.” He shook her shoulder gently, then, when she didn’t respond, a bit more firmly. “Wake up.”
She stretched and smiled at him sleepily, only half awake.
“Andre?” she whispered, and then she reached for him.
Looking down at her beautiful sleepy face, he suddenly felt as though he’d just leapt off a tall cliff and was plunging through space. Everything in him wanted to reach for her and hold her close, wrapping himself in her body. Turning away abruptly, he fought it and won—one more time.
“Wake up,” he said again, roughly this time. “We’ve got to get out of here.”
Her eyes opened widely and she sat up, holding her covers to her chest. “What’s happened?” she asked, fully awake now and thinking clearly.
“I just had a call from Security. Someone has either realized who you are or made a lucky guess. Rumors are flying. It’s known that you’ve left the convent. That makes people wonder what is going on, as your wedding is only days away. Some of the young hot-heads from the Rubiat family are said to be coming this way to find out. Meanwhile the paparazzi are gathering like the vultures they are.”
“Uh-oh.” She knew exactly what that meant. This was the very unruly bunch that all the plans and schemes revolved around. If you couldn’t keep the Rubiats happy, bad things happened.
“Exactly. We need to slip away before they get here.” He looked at her candidly. “Are you game for making a run for it with me?”
“Am I?” Her eyes gleamed. Didn’t he understand anything about her at all? “Of course. It’s what I’ve been living for.”
He wasn’t sure he got that, but there wasn’t time to quibble. “We’ve got a couple of hours before sunrise. Let’s make the most of them.”
He gave her a simple canvas bag to use for packing some of her new clothes and warned her to limit herself to three items.
“We won’t have room for much,” he said. “We’ll be traveling on a big old Harley Davidson.”
“A motorcycle?” she said in surprise.
He nodded. “They won’t be expecting that. We’ll be able to sail right past them.” He looked her over quickly. “Tie your hair back with something that covers the color,” he advised. “And wear jeans.”
She did as he had suggested, feeling oddly excited. He went into his room to change, and when he came back she gasped. She hardly recognized this tough-looking man with a swagger and a leather jacket. He had on a pair of large aviator sunglasses and had slicked his hair back.
“Wow,” she said, feeling a bit shy and tongue-tied.
“That’s your favorite word, isn’t it?” he mentioned, teasing her. He found a smaller, more stylish leather jacket among the clothes on her rack and handed it to her. “Here. You’ll need it. We’re going up into the mountains.”
“Into the mountains?” On the back of a motorcycle, holding on to Prince Andre for dear life. This went beyond anything she’d ever dreamed of.
They were ready in moments, and in the elevator, heading down. But before they reached ground level Prince Andre pushed a button, and suddenly they were emerging into a stairway down to a tunnel that seemed to wind its way through the inner workings of the building. After walking for what seemed like miles, they reached a parking garage Julienne knew must be far from their starting point. He led her through a series of small rooms, and finally there was the Harley.
All black paint and chrome, it gleamed like something alive and aware, and she shivered a little, looking at it. But before long she was riding that same scary machine, and just as she’d supposed she had her arms wrapped around Andre. It was purely heaven.
Andre was feeling the spirit as well. It was amazing how free one could feel, flying across the pavement on a huge motorcycle. And with Julienne hanging on, her hands making themselves noticed around his torso—what could be better?
By now the driver at the convent would have told them she was missing. Mother Superior was probably terrified of telling him. He ought to put her out of her misery. But he would let Rolfo deal with all of that.
Dawn was just breaking as they left the city, climbing higher and higher into the surrounding mountains. They found a small roadside store and stopped to ask if there was a place to get breakfast. The storekeeper had a small kitchen in the back, and he whipped them up eggs and country sausage served in a flatbread wrap.
“Delicious,” Julienne declared, and then she pestered the storekeeper until he finally divulged the secret seasonings he had used.
She made Andre laugh. A princess who cared about cooking. Unique. Watching her, he thought of what had happened the night before, how her tremulous visit had turned into a kiss that had shown his hand like nothing else could. Did she remember? Did she think of it? Or was it just another passing experience in her young life, something of a stepping stone to her full adulthood? He wasn’t sure. If only things were different he would take her right now and hold her in his arms and never let her go. But things were what they were, and that was more than impossible. It would be treason.
“Where is it that we’re going?” she asked him as they prepared to take off again.
“Ultimately the lake house,” he said, glancing around the parking area to make sure no one could overhear him. “But first we’re going to visit my cousin Giselle. You may not remember her.”
She shook her head, trying to think but not coming up with anyone. “The name sounds a bit familiar, but.”
“She’s Alphonso’s half-sister.”
“What? I didn’t know Alphie had a sister.”
“Different mothers,” he said shortly. “Twelve years ago she was the most famous princess in the Western world. The papers were full of stories about her. She had suitors from all over—royalty, movie stars, rich industrialists. She was so beautiful, so accomplished.” He smiled, remembering how stunning she’d been. Those had been happy days. But happy days never lasted long in Gemania.
“And,” he added, “she was one of my best friends.”
That got her attention. “What happened to her?”
He held her gaze steadily with his own. “She threw it all away. Just the way you want to. She married a starving artist, a nobody, a man who never did become successful.”
He shrugged. “Her father disowned her. She gave up b
eing a princess. And now she knows what it is like to be a commoner, with no money, no connections. No help from the people who loved her.”
Julienne felt the tragedy of poor Giselle’s situation deeply. She could identify with it in every way.
“But she has love,” she said hopefully.
“You can’t eat love,” he told her cynically. “It won’t pay the rent.” He shrugged again. “The last time I saw her the man she’d married was gone. He left her with three little children to take care of on her own.” He let that sink in, watching as her eyes clouded, and then he added, “She’s had it pretty rough.”
Julienne thought about that for a long moment and frowned at him. “Haven’t you tried to help her? You said she was your friend.”
“Of course I’ve tried to help her. She’s too proud to accept anything from me. She knows she turned her back on all of us when she made her choice, and she’s living with the consequences.” He watched her steadily. He was piling it on a bit thick, but it had to be done. If Giselle’s story could help turn Julienne around, it would all be for a good cause.
Yeah, what a cause. He was heartsick when he thought of it. He had to make her marry another man in order to save his beloved country from war. Great. And what did that leave him? Not a hell of a lot.
But it had to be done. The country had to be his highest priority.
Thinking about Giselle, Julienne was developing a lump in her throat. “I would help her anyway!” she insisted. “In fact, I’m an adult now. It’s time for me to have a living of my own. I’ll help her. I will!”
“Really?” He felt almost cruel doing this, but it had to be done. “How can you help her if you aren’t a princess anymore?”
She drew her breath in, knowing he thought he’d trapped her. Well, let him think so. She would find a way.
“I haven’t been to see her for a few years, but Rolfo got word to her that we were coming. She’ll be expecting us.”
“And why, exactly, are you taking me to see her?”
He turned to look at her, hoping she understood his basic motive was to make things easier for her, every time. “I think you’ve figured that out for yourself. I want you to see her and the conditions she’s living under since she gave up being a princess.”
