Pretend Princess (Cordillera Royals Book 1)

by Carolyn Rae

  Another woman spoke up. “I’ve seen the way he looks at you. He seems a lot more interested than when Lady Constantine visited last.”

  Warmed by their welcome, Tricia wondered if it were possible for the people to accept a commoner as Lawrence’s wife. Tired from the long plane ride, she stifled a yawn. It was only noon here. With the time difference, she would probably be dead on her feet by dinner time.

  At the palace, Lawrence showed her to a guest room. “Perhaps you’d like to nap before dinner. I’ll send a message to your folks that you’re here and will contact them later, okay?”

  Tricia shook her head. “I need to talk to them personally.” She spread her suitcase open on the chaise lounge and looked longingly at the four poster with its gold brocade bedspread. “I’d love a nap.” Tastefully decorated with gold damask draperies and a golden-brown carpet, the room was much smaller than Allysa’s bedroom, but still more luxurious than her bedroom in the states. She glanced at her open suitcase, hoping Lawrence wouldn’t notice her sheer red nightgown lying exposed.

  He glanced at it, but didn’t mention it. He stepped back into the hallway. “I’ll send someone to wake you later.”

  Tricia yawned. “Give me a couple of hours okay?”

  “I’ll do that.” He shut the door.

  Tricia called her folks and said hello to her sisters. After hanging up, she walked toward the bed, pausing at the marble topped dressing table. Someone had laid out a silver brush, comb, and mirror set on the marble topped dressing table. She ran her fingers over the shining surface and discovered her initials engraved in swirling letters. She smiled at the lovely welcome gift. Had Lawrence been so sure she’d come that he’d ordered this for her?

  Quickly donning her red nightgown, Tricia untied the cords holding the heavy gold bed curtains open, let them fall shut, and climbed between the sheets.

  Later she was awakened by the quiet opening and closing of the door. She blinked her eyes open. Lawrence opened the draperies. Looking fresh and rested, he was gazing at her as if she were a treasure he’d searched for and finally found.

  He took her hand and kissed it. Then he bent to kiss her lips. The kiss, though soft, stirred her senses, set her fully awake with her pulse racing and her heart beating fast. Unable to help herself, she placed her hand around his neck and pulled his face down for another kiss.

  Savoring the touch of his mouth on hers, she at last broke away and met his gaze. Adoration glowed in his gold-tinged brown eyes. He fingered the thin strap of her gown. “What if I were to take you right here? Would you let me?”

  His fingers dipped beneath the neckline to caress her breast, sending shivers up and down her chest. Her heart raced, beating twice as fast as his tentative strokes.

  “We couldn’t. Someone would know.”

  He grinned. “My servants are nothing if not discreet. I pay them well.”

  Not wanting to ask, she wondered if he’d seduced other women in this room. “It’s too risky. I don’t want to cause a scandal.”

  He grinned. “Wouldn’t be the first time a prince of Cordillera has been the subject of gossip.”

  She swallowed, wondering if he referred to himself.

  He grasped her hand and lifted it to his lips for another kiss. “Shall I send Serena here to unpack?”

  She shook her head. “There’s not much to unpack. I’ll do it.”

  “I hope you brought your riding clothes. I’ve asked the cook to pack a nice supper for us. Thought you’d prefer dinner outside to dealing with my parents and assorted dignitaries who might be dining with them tonight.”

  She nodded. “That’s very thoughtful of you.”

  He handed her a tapestry tote bag. “I plan to keep you out late. It may be midnight before we return. It sometimes gets windy on the trail. You might want to take a sweater, and pack some lipstick. I don’t want your lovely lips to get chapped. Did you notice the brush and comb set I had made for you?”

  She smiled. “I did, and thank you so much. You shouldn’t have gone to the trouble. What if I hadn’t come?”

  He grinned. “I was certain you’d give in after a bit of pleading.”

  She swatted the tote bag against his chest. “You’re too sure of yourself.”

  “A prince must always act as if he’s sure of himself. My uncle claims confidence is a necessary attribute in a ruler.”

  Later, seated on a mare in front of the palace, Tricia glanced up at Lawrence.

  He met her gaze. “Do you have the comb and brush set in your tote bag?”

  She shook her head. “I was afraid they’d get scratched or broken, so I brought a comb and mirror I had with me.”

  He beckoned to a guard. “Get me Serena.”

  “That’s not necessary,” Tricia insisted.

  “I want you to use and enjoy them, not just keep them to look at. Hand me your tote bag.”

  When Serena approached, he leaned down and whispered something to her. She took the tote bag and hurried into the palace. Moments later she was back and handed the tapestry bag to Lawrence. He tied it to his saddle bag. “Let’s go.”

  As they rode, the sun was warm on Tricia’s back, but no more so than the warmth she felt being with him. He laughed and talked about childhood escapades with his cousin. Glad to see him relaxed, she felt content to just let him talk about growing up in the palace, late night raids on the kitchen and scoldings when the cook discovered pudding he’d made for tomorrow’s lunch half gone.

  She, in turn, told him about living in Michigan while her parents worked as missionaries to the Ojibwa. “Our house was small, but comfortable with early American furniture, except it got beastly cold in the winter. The place my parents rent here is small, but it’s a great opportunity for my sisters to go to school here and learn French and Spanish. And when they get older, they can travel to some of the European countries.”

  They rode past the old house where Tricia had fought off Roberto. The place didn’t seem so sinister now. As the horses plodded up the mountain side, the trees thinned out until there was nothing but scrub bushes. Yellow and pink flowers sprouted between them. They were the same type she’d seen at the foot of the mountain, but as they rode higher, the bushes between the rocks grew shorter and sparser. The flowers were smaller also.

  When they reached the top, Lawrence pulled his horse to a stop and turned it to face the valley below. Tricia reined in beside him and looked out over the land spread out before them. The palace looked like a fairy tale castle set off on a large expanse of land south of the city. Sunlight reflected off cars moving like toys on the streets.

  Lawrence smiled. “Someday this will be my country to rule over. I only hope we can avoid war and heavy crime. It is a huge responsibility to know I will have the future of Cordilleran citizens in my hands.”

  “Won’t you have advisors and a parliament or congress to make laws and direct the path your country takes?”

  He nodded. “We have treaties with Spain and France to come to our aid if attacked. But I am more worried about treachery from within. There are those who want Cordillera to join with France.”

  “Any who want your country to join with Spain?”

  “We have those factions too. As long as the groups remain small and stage only occasional protest marches, I do not worry.”

  “What about the woman you are supposed to marry—what role will she play?”

  “The queen has always been our goodwill ambassador, one who sponsors charities, visits other countries and makes speeches.”

  “I see.” It was a good thing Tricia wasn’t in the running. She wouldn’t mind helping out charities. Just the thought of making speeches made her knees shake. In school, she had always been the one who knew the answers, but never raised her hand or spoke unless the teacher called on her.

  Tricia told him how she’d taken a speech class in college and nearly died of embarrassment when she’d stood before the class and dropped her note cards on the floor. “I couldn’t
remember any of the main points of my speech.” Her face seemed to grow hot all over again. “The whole room seemed full of accusing eyes and jutting chins. I felt so stupid.”

  “I do not see how that could be. You impress me as being very intelligent.”

  “The only reason I passed was the speech I gave on the Ojibwa customs and the way the tribe members worked as a team to hunt, gather rice and raise their children. The so called civilized modern fathers could learn a lot about cooperation from them.”

  He reached over and took her hand. “I am sure that with practice you could learn to be good at it.”

  Despite the comforting touch of his hand and the welcoming warmth in his eyes, she pulled her hand away. “Public speaking still terrifies me.”

  “If you did it a few more times, you might get over that.”

  She shook her head. “Some people get butterflies in their stomachs. I get eagles flapping their wings against my ribs trying to break through. I don’t want to make a fool of myself in public. I’ll work to help out charities in the background, but I avoid positions where I might have to speak to the press or give talks.”

  “But you have strong opinions. Do you not want to share them with others?”

  “I don’t mind speaking with individuals, but talking with more than three at a time is too much. I don’t want people laughing at me—or jeering at what I have to say.”

  He patted her arm. “Not everyone is suited to be in the public eye.” He turned his horse around and pointed it toward a valley beneath. “Let’s go on. I have something to show you.”

  She turned her mount in the same direction. “But I thought these mountains were the border with France.”

  “I own a bit of land in France next to Cordillera’s border.”

  Soon they were traveling through a heavily forested area. “How much foreign land do you have?”

  He smiled. “It is actually one square mile. Always part of the royal lands, it was deeded to me when I became twenty-one.”

  “Do you hunt there?”

  “Occasionally, but mostly I ride here when I want some solitude. You are the first woman I have taken here. I hope you will find it as refreshing as I do.”

  Here, the trees were devoid of any leaves or small branches at the bottom of the trunks. The leaves overhead were so thick they blocked out most of the light. No wonder underbrush was nonexistent here in the quiet woods. Lawrence pointed to the trees. “This is a patch of black forest separate from that in Germany.”

  As they rode, she noticed they were traveling uphill again. The character of the trees changed. Scrub oaks gave way to larger ones. Again, the branches blocked most of the sunlight, but enough filtered through to support clumps of underbrush. Here and there a squirrel darted across the trail and scurried away.

  Lawrence touched her arm, held a finger to his lips and inclined his head to the right. About twenty feet away stood a doe and a fawn. The doe appeared to be scanning the area while the fawn nibbled on a sapling. A moment later, they took off running.

  “They look so natural here. It would be a shame to shoot them. Do you let anyone hunt here?”

  He shook his head. “I am the only one who hunts here.”

  “You wouldn’t shoot a mother with a fawn, would you?”

  He nodded. “If I can catch them unawares.”

  “That’s terrible.”

  He grinned. “But I only hunt with cameras.”

  “Oh. That’s all right.”

  The going became steeper. Tricia touched his arm, felt again the sturdy muscle.

  “Why didn’t I see this hill from the top of the mountain?”

  “From there it looks as if the trees are taller. People in the nearby French towns talk about a legendary volcano here, but there is no history of it ever erupting in modern times or even during the middle ages.”

  “Have there been any rumblings or rising steam?”

  “Not that I know of, but there is something I want to show you.”

  “What is it?”

  “Wait until we get there. I want to surprise you.”

  Half an hour later she saw it, a log cabin nestled among the trees. A chimney hinted at a fireplace within and curtains hung at the windows. Sturdy posts held up a roof over the small porch leading to the front door.

  Lawrence dismounted and tied his horse to a nearby tree with some grass around it. He helped her down and tied her horse next to his. Then he led her inside.

  A daybed with a brass frame stood beneath the window. On the other side sat a small maple table with two chairs. A kitchenette area held a stove with two burners and a small refrigerator under the counter. Tricia peeked through a doorway to the left and saw a bathroom with modern plumbing. “There’s no tub or shower.”

  He grinned. “What did you expect—the Hilton?”

  “But if you stay here, how do you bathe?”

  “Come with me.” He took her hand and led her around the left side of the house. His grasp felt so comfortable Tricia found herself wishing she could hold his hand every day. She shut her eyes for an instant, trying to steel her heart not to think of that. When she opened her eyes, he still held her hand. She wanted to prolong this moment, hold it in her heart. Soon she wouldn’t be able to hold him to her, or hug his well-toned body against her. She’d known this couldn’t last forever, so why was she dwelling on what she couldn’t have?

  He paused and met her gaze. “Is something wrong?”

  She pulled her hand loose. Her hand felt cold, and she felt strangely defenseless. Tricia shook her head. “Nothing’s wrong. I just wish I could find a place like this back in the states to go to for some peace and quiet.” Damn. He was too observant.

  Her mother had told Tricia that her emotions always showed on her face. She hadn’t realized she was so transparent.

  His eyes looked serious. “I wish you could enjoy a place like this, too. I find it really restful when I have had a hectic day. You have no idea how critical the public can be. If I appear at a concert, I might be criticized for dressing so formally that I appear aloof. Another columnist might say my clothes are too old-fashioned or that I am succumbing to the latest fad when I should stay with classic styles.”

  “I had no idea people would talk so much about what you wear. What about when you give speeches?”

  “That is even worse. I have a speech writer and edit what he writes. No matter what I say, someone finds something to criticize.”

  “Can’t you talk about lowering taxes and bringing in business?”

  “I am not going to lie. We can’t lower taxes. The country is strapped as it is. And some merchants are afraid of competition. The last time I mentioned advertising for new companies to settle here, you should have heard the uproar. They claimed I was going to put half the craft industries out of business.”

  Tricia glanced at his broad shoulders. He’d need them for more than comforting a woman. “Even though Cordillera’s a small country, I can see you will inherit a big job. Does that seem daunting?”

  He nodded. “That’s enough talk about me. Come on, I want to show you something.” He grasped her hand, making her feel warm and connected again. She wasn’t going to pull away. Her time with him would be too short.

  He led her down a narrow path past some tall bushes, and then she saw it. A pool, ringed with trees and low shrubs. Steam rose from the waters.

  She stepped closer, felt the heat in the air. “Did you have it heated?”

  He shook his head. “It’s probably heated by some fissure sprung from the volcano long ago. Stick your hand in.”.

  She did. The waters were pleasantly warm, like a bath. “No wonder you don’t have a bathtub or shower. This must be a wonderful way to relax.”

  He smiled and took hold of her hand. “Care for a dip?”

  “You didn’t tell me to bring a bathing suit. And I’m not going skinny dipping.”

  “Skinny dipping?”

  “Going swimming at night in the alto
gether.”

  “Well, it is almost dark, and there’s no one here to see us. Wouldn’t you like to have the warm water soak all your cares away?”

  He massaged her shoulders. His hands worked magic on her tired muscles. She couldn’t help remembering how his hands had felt caressing her, touching her all over. How wonderful it had been to make love with him—and how foolish. He could never be hers completely.

  She kept her eyes averted. He mustn’t see how she longed to have him touch her skin with his hands and his lips, how she longed to show how much she wanted him.

  He smiled. “Think how relaxing it would be.” The light in his eyes beckoned her. The pleading in his voice said he wanted her. The way he moved closer and put his arm around her waist told her if she gave in, she wouldn’t be doing much relaxing.

  She shut her eyes. Knew she had to refuse. “But it’s getting late. We need to get back.”

  “I brought a picnic supper. It’s a long ride back. We could spend the night here. We could look at the stars. Close to midnight you can see millions of them from here.”

  There it was—the invitation. “And sleep in our clothes?”

  He shook his head. “I had Serena tuck your nightgown in that tote bag.”

  Tricia could feel her face flame. “I only brought one nightgown, a sheer, red one trimmed in lace.”

  He nodded. “I cannot wait to see how you look in it.”

  She frowned and removed his hand from her waist. “You’re impossible. First you say Albert’s not good enough for me, and then you expect me to spend the night in your bed without any promises, without saying you care for me.”

  Now his eyes looked sad. “You are the most fascinating woman I’ve ever met, and it is all I can do to keep my hands off you.”

  Surprised, but thrilled by his words, she stood there speechless as the moon rose in darkening sky.

  He grasped both hands in his and turned her to face him. One hand at her waist pulled her against his body. As he bent to kiss her, his other hand caressed her shoulder, then slid down her arm. His hand strayed to her breast. Thrills coursed through her. Lower down, she felt his desire pressing against her.