by Carolyn Rae
He smiled. “Roberto Alvarez at your service. We met at your last dance. I understand you have just returned from a trip. I hope it was enjoyable.”
“It was interesting, but I don’t wish to ride another camel anytime soon.”
“I have a better suggestion. I would like the honor of your company for a drive in the country tomorrow.” He waved toward a Jaguar convertible in the courtyard next to the garden. We could take a picnic lunch and enjoy the scenery.”
Tricia hesitated, trying to think what Allysa would do. “I don’t usually go that far from the palace without a chaperone and a guard. My duties keep me too busy to be away from the palace that long.”
“Well then- uh—could you meet me in town for afternoon tea? The local coffee shop serves both coffee and tea as well as scones and sugar cookies. We could eat at a sidewalk table. You can be sure I’d be on my best behavior with everyone watching.”
What could she say that wouldn’t sound ungracious? She was sure Allysa wouldn’t do that. She tried to think of a suitable excuse. “I’m sorry, but I have a piano lesson scheduled for tomorrow.”
“I didn’t know you played the piano.”
“I’ve just started taking lessons.”
“How about the day after then?”
“I believe I’m supposed to meet with Lady Constantine. She wants to visit my dressmaker to have a new gown made.”
He rose. “Very well then.” He held out a small engraved card. “Here is my card. You may call or have your maid call to let me know when you will be available. I shall await the pleasure of your company.” He walked toward his car.
He seemed polite enough. She strolled toward the courtyard, stopping at the edge of the garden to smell a rose. Pausing, he turned to face her and frowned. “I can see you are way too busy to have anything to do with the likes of me. Pardon me for assuming you would treat me differently than a rich prince or noble.”
She walked toward him. “That has nothing to do with it.” Perhaps he was more interested in being seen with a princess, than wanting her company.
He slid in behind the wheel and slowly drove toward the gatehouse. She hoped that was the last she’d see of him.
After lunch, Prince Lawrence suggested they walk alone in the garden. Outside, he waved at his bodyguard. “We’ll just be in the gardens. I’m sure you can keep watch from the courtyard.”
The guard nodded his head. “Yes, Your Highness.”
Tricia strolled between rows of red and white gladioli, then paused. “Are you giving up on seeking Allysa and the professor?”
“I don’t want to put you or your sisters in any danger. I will send someone discreet to look for her. If she is indeed pregnant, I don’t want that coming to light.”
Tricia met his gaze. “And if she is, do you want me to continue taking her place?”
“The people seem to accept you.” He smiled. “I like having you around. If you are willing to stay, I have a proposition for you.”
Chapter Thirteen
“You’re using that word proposition again.” Tricia said, already wary. The scent of roses wafted by as they walked in the palace garden.
“I can’t stop thinking about you, about what it would be like to take you in my arms and kiss you senseless, to—” He paused.
Tricia held her breath. She’d enjoyed his kisses—too much—but she wasn’t sure what he’d say next. She met his mesmerizing gaze, felt herself falling under the spell of the most enticing man she’d ever met.
His manly aftershave wafted over her. He grasped hand and pressed a kiss on it. “You’re beautiful, and your skin is so soft. I would love to . . . if you—”
“Go on.”
“After we find Allysa, if you agree to finish your degree here at the university, I can rent an apartment where we can be together for as long as you’re in Cordillera.”
Tricia gasped. “How can you suggest such a thing?” Her blood boiling, she slapped his face. “You’re a bastard!”
Her stomach churned even as she regretted slapping him. He wasn’t really a bastard, just arrogant as hell. But she didn’t believe in sex before marriage. Tricia shot a fierce glare at him and marched back to the castle.
He’d looked astonished when she slapped him. She wondered if any other woman had rejected his advances. Probably not. She was sure if she’d agreed, he’d make long passionate love to her. But she wasn’t sure she could forgive him for such an outrageous proposition.
Hearing footsteps behind her, she turned to see he’d followed her.
“Tricia, why are you so upset? I was just suggesting—“
“Your suggestion was disgusting. You’re treating me like a common prostitute.”
“I don’t think of you that way. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. You’re a gracious, charming woman, one I want to see more of. Is it so wrong to want you so much I can hardly wait to have you in my arms and in my bed?”
Tricia frowned again. “I won’t even consider it.”
“What would you prefer—an undying proclamation of love for you?”
“That would be nice, but I’d know it wasn’t true. I hate lies.”
“So, what if I tell you, and really mean it, that I’m sorry if I insulted you. I didn’t intend to.”
Tricia drew a deep breath. Heat rose from her chest to her neck and face. “I still can’t believe you had the nerve to suggest that.”
He held the palace door open for her. “By the way, I am definitely not a bastard. The royal doctor can attest to that.”
Tricia frowned. “And how would he know? I’ve heard the rumors about your uncle and your late father.”
Lawrence scowled. “If you were a man, I would call you out for that. However, I apologize for insulting you with my proposition.” The look in his eyes said he was sorry, but he’d really insulted her. His words didn’t wipe away his insult that easily.
Her parents had taught her to forgive others, but even her mother would understand her reluctance this time. Her mother would probably be just as mad.
However, despite his proposition, he still tempted her. She mustn’t let him know how much. If he tried to seduce her, she’d refuse him, but she’d have to be on guard against his charms.
* * *
Prince Lawrence kept his eyes straight ahead. His face still stung. He didn’t consider Tricia a prostitute. Surely, in her country, unmarried couples enjoyed the comforts of a bed together, but obviously, he’d insulted her by suggesting it.
She’d looked really mad. She was the daughter of missionaries, and he should have guessed she’d be offended. He wanted to apologize and beg her forgiveness, but it probably wouldn’t do any good to talk to her until she cooled down.
Did she expect a marriage proposal before she’d go to bed with him? She was enchanting, but he needed a dutiful, compliant queen like his aunt. And Tricia wouldn’t live complacently under Cordillera’s laws. She’d agitate for more privileges for women. He wasn’t ready to settle down with a wife. Besides, the king would have apoplexy if he even suggested marrying a commoner.
Except whenever he took a young lovely to bed, he would think about Tricia. He wondered what it would be like to make love to her, to press kisses on her cleavage, to kiss her from her neck all the way down, and bare her lovely breasts. He wanted her to be his—his woman—his alone. Just the thought of some other man touching her made him burn.
He sighed and strolled toward the end of the garden where it met the woods. He’d made an awful mess of things. Now she hated him. The empty feeling in the pit of his stomach gnawed at him. He felt terrible. He’d have to offer a sincere apology and turn on the charm before she’d even speak to him. He’d have to grovel. He didn’t do that well, but he couldn’t afford to alienate her. They had to keep up the charade.
He wished he’d be able to persuade her to share his bed before she left his country. Just thinking about that made him smile … and made him hard.
He hoped he’d soon su
cceed in finding Allysa. He prayed his cousin wasn’t pregnant. After he found Allysa, maybe he should send Tricia away. Somehow, he had to get this yearning for her out of his system.
“Prince Lawrence,” someone called from the edge of the garden near the woods.
* * *
After returning to her room, Tricia was glad to let Serena bring her supper, a bowl of creamy mushroom soup, a chicken sandwich and a napoleon pastry filled with custard.
Prince Lawrence did not come to her room nor summon her to meet him. That was fine with her. She’d had enough of his company for a while.
However, by the following afternoon she hadn’t seen or heard from him. Her maid brought in some clothes that had been cleaned and pressed. “Serena,” she asked, “is Prince Lawrence away from the castle? I haven’t seen him all day.”
The maid busied herself hanging up the clothes. “No one has. The queen even asked me if I knew where he was.”
A servant knocked on the sitting room door, which stood ajar. “Yes,” Tricia said.
The servant peeked in through the opening. “King Frederick wishes to see you in the library.”
Wondering why, Tricia hurried to the appointed place, sparing only a glance at the shelves filled with leather-bound books and a few recent best sellers with colorful paper jackets. What might Prince Lawrence have told him about her? Seeing the king, she curtseyed. “You wished to see me, sir, I mean, Your Majesty.”
“Close the door.”
Tricia did with some difficulty, for it was a heavy door. The king continued. “Never mind the title. I know you are not used to such things. A messenger left this letter.” He brandished the letter and pounded the chair’s armrest with his fist. “It is an outrage. Prince Lawrence has been captured by kidnappers.”
“Oh, no,” Tricia gasped. She couldn’t believe it. The memory of how she’d left him standing in the garden, his apology unaccepted, slammed into her. What if she never saw him again?
The king kept on talking. “A man named Roberto Alvarez, has volunteered to be their go-between because he has connections with the palace—“
Tricia frowned. “I wouldn’t exactly call it connections,” she forced herself to concentrate on what the king was saying, “but continue.”
“He wants Princess Allysa to meet with him to discuss the terms of the ransom.” He scowled and pointed to the guard standing by the door. “Assemble as many guards as you can spare. I will send them back with the messenger to demand he return my nephew immediately.”
“Please, wait, Your Highness.” Tricia said, finally able to focus. “Maybe I can speak to him and persuade him to get them to return the prince without the need for force.”
Chapter Fourteen
A guard snorted and glared at Tricia.
The king held up his hand, then spoke to the guard. “I want to hear what she has to say first. It may be worth considering.”
Tricia held out her hand. “Let me see the note from Prince Lawrence’s kidnapper.”
He gave it to her, then sank into his chair, his chin sunk into his hand, his eyes sad. Tricia saw the fear he was trying to hide. She felt it too. What could the kidnappers be doing to Lawrence?
The note from Roberto Alvarez said she should meet him at the coffee shop in town to discuss terms for Lawrence’s return. “It says he is being detained, but is well and healthy.”
“Who the hell is Roberto Alvarez?” asked the king. “Have you met him . . . or is he one of Allysa’s so-called suitors? Why am I asking you? You have met the two main contenders. This most likely is one of her other disgruntled suitors who–”
“Your Majesty,” Tricia interrupted. “I have met Roberto Alvarez. He was pestering me to join him on a picnic, and I refused. I’m afraid I offended him, but yes, I will meet with him.”
The king frowned. “When? How? I have had Serena in my confidence. She was to report to me if anyone bothered you.”
Tricia let out an exasperated breath. Her maid had seemed so soft-spoken and helpful. It was hard to believe she’d been spying on her. Was there no one in the palace Tricia could trust?
“I spoke to him in the garden yesterday. He left in a huff when I would not agree to meet with him today. I tried to be gracious, but he probably saw through my excuses, that I had to attend a piano lesson and meet with Lady Constantine.”
The king nodded. “Lady Constantine left yesterday. I’m sure it was common knowledge.”
“Oh, dear. I should have said something else. Never mind, I will meet with him.”
“We will send a full detail with her,” the guard said.
“But if the kidnappers are watching, won’t that seem too aggressive?” Tricia asked.
“Send one guard with her,” the king said. “And make sure our security force is close at hand, though unobtrusively, to protect her.”
Tricia nodded. “We don’t want to make the kidnappers nervous. I suggest, Your Majesty, that you send a letter with the messenger that I will meet with him at five o’clock this afternoon.”
She fingered the fabric of her skirt. Visions of Lawrence being tortured caused her heart to ache. She’d do whatever it took, to get them to release Prince Lawrence. She’d even sacrifice her virtue to save him. She hadn’t realized until now how much she cared for him or how much she’d do to liberate him. She loved him. How ironic was that when all he wanted from her was sex?
* * *
Later that afternoon, Tricia dressed in one of Allysa’s long black skirts and a silk blouse. She wrapped a long scarf over her hair and hoped no one recognized her as the princess. She took along Serena and one of the king’s guards. The head of security had promised two of his men would be positioned in the background for her protection.
As she approached the coffee shop, she willed her hands not to tremble. Strolling into the coffee shop, she tried to appear in control even if she didn’t feel like it.
She ordered coffee and a French pastry to be delivered to a table in front of the cafe. Outside, she sipped the coffee, but was too nervous to take a bite. She looked at her watch. It was time, but Roberto hadn’t shown up. Two men dressed in black sat at the next table. With such muscular arms and shoulders, they looked like wrestlers. Had this all been a ruse to get her away from the palace? A shiver coursed down her spine. Now she was grateful for Serena and the guards who watched from a discreet distance.
She took a deep breath and shifted in her seat so she could watch the men in black. At last Roberto Alvarez strode toward her. He seemed taller and more imposing than she remembered.
“So,” he spoke sharply. “you no longer consider me beneath you, because you want to see the prince again.”
“I never looked down on you. I try not to act like I’m better than regular citizens.”
He sat across from her, his aquiline nose more prominent than the prince’s. “At least you don’t claim you’re better than I.” His chin accented his forceful tones. “So many, like Shayla, do.”
Guessing Shayla, one of the queen’s ladies-in-waiting, had rejected his advances, Tricia bit her tongue. It was best to drop the subject. “Look, all I’m interested in is Prince Lawrence’s safe return. What do they want?”
“The kidnappers want twenty-thousand euros, but for acting as their go-between, I want to be accepted as a guest at palace dinners as well as the holiday dances as most outstanding citizens are.”
Tricia studied his face. Such a small amount. That couldn’t be all they wanted. Then she focused on Roberto’s own demand. “You should be willing to help because he is your prince.”
“He’s done nothing but look down his nose at me. But I will do this for you, for a chance to be your friend.”
“I do not make up the guest list for palace dinners. The queen dictates who is invited. I can only make requests.”
“If you want me to work with the kidnappers to get the prince released, I expect you to get my name on the approved list.”
“And if you were to be tre
ated as one of my accepted suitors, would that satisfy you?”
He nodded. “If you only got to know me, you’d realize what an entertaining man I can be—not like pompous Sir Appleby or that pathetic excuse for a man who recites poorly written poetry. I want to take you dancing at the local cabaret, and I want to take you for a picnic in the country.”
“And if I agree to that and get the King to release some money, will you get them to let my cousin go free?”
“Will you go dancing with me?”
“Tonight?” She couldn’t stand the idea of any delay in freeing Lawrence. She’d dance all night if that’s what it took.
“Indeed I do, but I only want a few dances. I want people to see that you find me attractive and fascinating. Then they will look up to me.”
It would take more than that to impress others, but all she said was, “First I must see Lawrence freed.”
Roberto shook his head. “I won’t talk to the kidnappers until you dance two dances with me at a nice club where everyone can see us.”
Surely, she could dance with him to free Lawrence. She was glad that was all he wanted. “Where do you want to go?”
“Rosalita’s Cabaret. They have a nice dance floor with bands who play on Friday and Saturday nights. Wear that green dress you wore earlier. I like the way it shows off your figure.”
He would, Tricia thought. The bodice was tight fitting since she was a bit more endowed than Allysa. She stared at him, hoping to intimidate him, if only a little. “Surely, you don’t think you’ll impress people if you spend the evening looking down the front of my dress.”
He frowned. “Please, give me credit for a little more sophistication. I can wait until we are alone.”
Uh, oh. He hadn’t said anything about afterwards. She hoped to talk her way out of that. “I’ll agree to two dances, no more. My security guards will then hand me the money, but I want to see the prince freed so I can talk to him.” She could only hope he was being treated well.
He smiled. “I will call for you at the palace in . . .” he looked at his watch, “exactly one hour.”
