Alec sighed to hide his grin. “Ye need to make up your mind if you’re Jane Smith or Princess Carolina so I can stay with the program.”
“Dammit, I’m both,” she snapped, actually stamping her foot—then nearly falling when her spiked heel broke off.
Alec caught her with a laugh and swept her into his arms. “So, was that a Carolina show of temper?” he asked, striding toward the outside door. “Because I’m thinking Jane would have taken a swing instead.”
“Oh, look, husband,” Rana said rather cheerily as he passed her still wrapped up in her husband’s arms, “they’re already bickering just like an old married couple.”
“Wait,” Nicholas said, making Alec turn to see him step forward and nod at Jane’s feet. “You might want to lose the tracking device.”
Jane gasped and started struggling, and when Alec wouldn’t set her down she finally did take a swing, smacking the back of his shoulder. And when that didn’t work, she pulled her dress up past her knee, waved the leg wearing the ankle bracelet, and looked over at her father. “Daddy, you need to take this damn thing off me. Mama, make him take it off,” she pleaded in a growl, waving her leg again when Titus merely stood eyeing Alec speculatively.
Damn, he hadn’t wanted to play his trump card unless he absolutely had to.
“M-mama,” Jane repeated, this time in a whispered plea when Rana merely dropped her gaze—but not before Alec saw the uncertainty in the woman’s eyes. “Mackie, please; you come take it off me.” Jane twisted to look over Alec’s shoulder when Mac also didn’t move. “Nicholas, help me.”
“There’s only one person in this room who can take off that bracelet, Caro,” Rana said, looking directly at Alec. “So we will know you’ll be safe under his protection.”
Jane snapped her gaze to Alec. “You can take it off?” She looked at Titus. “But when you put this one on me three weeks ago, you said the gods themselves wouldn’t be able to get it off.”
“They can’t, Daughter. Only a mortal can remove it, and then only if he understands the true source of the magic.”
Jane slowly turned her head to Alec, her face having gone as pale as new snow, and started struggling again. He walked to a chair and set her down, knelt and rested back on his heels, and lifted her foot onto his thigh as she pulled her dress up to expose her ankle.
“T-take it off,” she said thickly, pushing her foot against him when he didn’t move. “Alec, if you can take it off, then do it.” She leaned closer. “I’ll be free,” she whispered, pressing her mouth against his cheek. “I have the condom tucked inside my bra, and we can finally use it.”
Alec dropped his chin to his chest on a sigh. “I can take it off, but I prefer not to.”
She reared away. “What? Why not?”
He caught her fist heading toward his shoulder with a chuckle. “Because I prefer you take it off,” he said, guiding her captured hand down to her ankle. He nodded at her surprise. “If ye truly want to feel free, lass, then you’re going to have to free yourself.”
“But I can’t,” she snapped, reaching down and tugging on the delicate chain, only to suddenly stiffen. “Wait; how do you even know you can take it off?” she asked, her gaze darting past Alec first to her father, then to where Nicholas was standing, then back to Alec as she leaned closer, the look in her eyes making him lean away. “Did you men work out some sort of deal behind my back?”
“I swear, Jane, we didn’t,” he said, shaking his head. “As for how I know,” he went on with a shrug, “I’m really just guessing based on something your father told me, as well as something your mother mentioned.” He snorted. “You people have a bad habit of talking your way around a subject instead of saying it straight out.”
Alec heard another snort come from the general vicinity of Nicholas.
“What did they say to you?” Jane asked.
“Well, when I kept complaining that you all shouldn’t exist because you’re myths, they more or less kept agreeing with me. But then your father explained that mankind imagined all the various deities into existence, which in essence made all the gods real.”
Jane pushed her dress down over her legs with a snort of her own.
“And,” Alec continued, pushing her dress back up over her knees, “something he’d told me earlier finally made sense. Your father said it’s a misconception that magic-makers hold all the power, as it’s the man who understands the source of that power who is the true force to be reckoned with. And your mother said that even fear is a myth.” He slid off her broken shoe and held her foot in his hand as he fingered the bracelet. “Didn’t ye notice that even the powerful magic Nicholas was using to secure Nova Mare didn’t keep me out? And even though Mac got a few punches in the day he came to get you; have ye not wondered why, if he was so opposed to your having anything to do with me, that he didn’t return and finish me off or at least drive me away? Think, Jane; is the question why didn’t he or why couldn’t he do anything to me?”
She silently looked past his shoulder again, her gaze darting between Mac and Titus before she looked back at him, and Alec saw the moment everything suddenly fell into place in that brilliant mind of hers. “He couldn’t,” she whispered breathlessly. “And Daddy couldn’t do anything but take me away from you that day, either. Theurgists and drùidhs can only use force to defend themselves or someone being directly threatened with bodily harm, as Providence forbids them from interfering in a person’s free will. But even then they can’t interfere if the person doing the harm is acting with a pure heart rather than malicious intent.” She snorted. “The power isn’t in the hands of the gods; it’s in the hearts of mortals. And that’s why the gods and demons are always fighting to keep mankind ignorant, afraid the knowledge that they really are nothing more than myths can just as easily disbelieve them out of existence.”
Jane looked at Titus and beamed him a smile, her eyes filled with pride, then lowered that smile to Alec. “And my father chose to champion mankind. Even at the peril of being made extinct by the very mortals he was trying to protect, Daddy built Atlantis and planted the Trees of Life to keep mankind’s knowledge safe so as to ensure everyone’s right of free will—including mine.” She reached down to her ankle and took hold of the thin chain—only to stop and look up. “Will you be my boyfriend, Alec?”
He rubbed his thumb over the top of her foot. “Aye,” he said gruffly, “if ye don’t mind having to support a ski bum during the off-season.”
“Oh, I can think of a way you can earn your keep,” she said rather huskily as she looked down and slid the chain around to the small gemstone.
Alec saw her suck in a deep breath, hesitate a heartbeat, then effortlessly pull one end of the chain out of the setting. She straightened with a laugh as she dangled the bracelet over her head. “I did it!” she cried, throwing herself at him and wrapping her arms around his neck. “Thank you,” she whispered in his ear. “Thank you for not doing it for me, Alec.”
“My pleasure, lass,” he said, hugging her back—only to have her suddenly pull away and jump to her feet.
She ran to her parents, kicking off her other shoe on the way. “Mama, look what I did! Come on,” she said, lifting the hem of her mother’s dress, “take yours off, too.”
Rana pulled her dress from Jane’s grasp and let it fall into place. “I don’t want to take mine off, Caro,” she said, leaning back against her husband with a tender smile as Titus wrapped his arms around her again. “I’m quite happy to wear it for several thousand more years.” She nodded at the bracelet in Jane’s hand. “But a twenty-first-century woman really has no need for magical protection, Daughter, as I believe women today are quite capable of taking care of themselves.”
A loud gasp came from the other side of the room, and everyone turned to see Olivia standing in the doorway with Ella in her arms. After all but tossing Ella at Nicholas—who suddenly looked panicked when the child gave a squeal of delight and wrapped her little arms around his neck and
kissed his cheek—Olivia ran up to Mac and stood on her tiptoes to better glare at him, even as she pointed at Jane’s hand. “Did your mother just say Carolina doesn’t need to wear that anklet because modern women are capable of taking care of ourselves?”
“Don’t ask Mac, Olivia,” Jane said. “You can take yours—”
Not really seeing this ending well, Alec swept Jane off her feet and strode to the outside door, used his hip to push it open, then kicked it closed behind him just as Kit stepped out of the bushes. “Ye leave them alone to work that out, and focus on us,” he said, although he practically had to shout to be heard over Jane’s protests. “Did you say there’s a condom in your bra?” he asked to divert her attention—which seemed to work, judging by her sudden stillness. He looked around, just now realizing he hadn’t really planned beyond actually getting his hands on Jane. And her dress wasn’t exactly outdoor wear, and she didn’t have on any shoes.
“Carolina,” Rana called out, rushing out the door—only to bump into them and make Alec turn. “Oh. Here, you forgot your backpack, Caro—I mean Jane,” Rana said as she plopped the backpack on her daughter’s lap, the added weight making Alec have to lean back to adjust his center of gravity.
He sighed, guessing he was lugging heavy luggage up and down the mountain again. Wait; she’d brought a backpack to the ball?
He had to readjust his stance again when Jane leaned over to clasp her mother’s face and give her a kiss. “Thanks, Mom,” she whispered. “I’ll see you in a few days.”
Where in hell did she think she was going? “Where are we going?” he asked.
Jane wrapped an arm around his neck while holding her backpack on her lap against his chest. “To the pool pavilion.”
“Ye want to swim—oh,” he said, feeling dumber than a sea urchin. He gave Rana an embarrassed grin because he was about to make off and then make out with her daughter just as the door opened again and Titus walked out, followed by Nicholas still holding Ella—who still had her little arms around the still panicked-looking man’s neck.
“Bye, Daddy. Bye, Nikki,” Jane called over his shoulder as Alec strode toward the pool pavilion—wondering why no one was stopping him from running off with their unwed princess. Hell, last he saw, they’d all been smiling.
“Well, that ended better than I was expecting,” he said somewhat cheerily.
“You think so?” Jane said somewhat wistfully, resting her head against his. “Because in many of the fairy tales I’ve been reading to the cherub, there’s usually at least some bloodshed before the prince gets to carry off the princess.”
Alec saw all the people partying in the pool pavilion and walked around to the side of the building, then stopped at the utility door. “Open it for me,” he said, bending enough for Jane to twist the knob. He carried her inside and set her on her feet, took her backpack and tossed it on a barrel, then clasped her face in his hands. “Are ye absolutely sure that you know what you’re doing? And you’re sure, Jane, that you’re doing it for all the right reasons? Because,” he went on, sliding his thumb over her lips when she tried to speak, “you’re completely free now and no longer in any danger—not from the gods or a dictatorial father demanding you get married.”
She reached up and gently slid his thumb away. “Do you want me for all the right reasons, Alec? Not because I’m a princess, or because I’m wealthy, or because I have magical powers?”
He closed his eyes and rested his forehead against hers. “You’re not helping me out here, lass. If you’re all those things, then I have no business wanting you at all.”
“What if I were just an ordinary woman? Would you want me then?”
“Aye,” he said thickly, his head still resting on hers. “I could even love an ordinary woman, especially if she happened to be smart and sassy and passionate, and she enjoyed camping out in the wilderness and was willing to fight a bear for me.”
“Alec?”
“Yes, Jane?”
“I’m getting cold feet.”
He reared away. “After I just spent three weeks picking off all my competition, you’re telling me now that you’re getting cold feet?”
“Well, when should I tell you, when my toes start falling off?” she muttered, reaching for her backpack and unzipping it. “I didn’t heat the floors of the utility rooms because that would have been a waste of good energy.” She started shoving a pair of jeans and a fleece and lacy bright red underwear at him as she pulled each one out of the pack. Next she pulled out what looked like a new pair of hiking boots and tossed them on the floor, then dug around inside the pack and pulled out a ditty bag and set it on the clothes he was holding, then her iPad and solar charger, her hairbrush, a rock that looked an awful lot like one of the rocks he’d heated and left in her bed, and a thick, wrinkled Nova Mare envelope that she quickly shoved back inside.
“What was that?” Alec asked to cover up his little tirade for not knowing her feet had been getting cold.
“Nothing important,” she muttered, finally pulling out a pair of socks.
“So we’re starting out this relationship by keeping secrets from each other?” He snorted. “Ms. Jane Smith?”
She sat down on the floor and slipped the wool socks onto her feet—not looking at him, Alec couldn’t help but notice. Although he did notice she was blushing. “I’ll let you read it…after.”
“After what?”
She stood up and turned her back to him. “Just after, okay? Will you unzip me?”
He set all her belongings on a shelf, then unzipped the back of her dress, giving a chuckle to disguise his shock when he realized she wasn’t wearing underwear. “Did ye get dressed in a hurry this evening?” he asked, his voice sounding a bit high to him.
She let the dress fall to pool at her feet, then stepped out of it and turned to him wearing nothing more than her Jane smile, Princess Carolina tiara and emerald necklace, and the wool socks. “It’s lined with a slip so it was decent enough, and I thought I might have to change in a hurry,” she said, her voice sounding a bit husky to him.
“Wait; where’s the condom?” he asked, glancing down at the floor. “Never mind,” he muttered, feeling dumber than a sea urchin to realize she couldn’t have tucked a condom in a bra she wasn’t wearing. Alec grabbed her flaming red underwear, jeans, and thick fleece off the shelf and tossed them to her. “Then hurry,” he growled, grabbing her other belongings and stuffing them back in the backpack. He picked up her dress and hung it on a hook on the back of the door with a rather harried—or maybe lustful—chuckle. For christsakes, he’d been waiting three weeks to get his hands on her again. “I’d like to be here in the morning to see the workers trying to figure out how the owner of this dress got home.”
“You’re going to be busy in the morning,” she said—again huskily—as she pulled the fleece down over her head, apparently feeling the same way he did. She sat down and slipped into her boots and laced them, then looked up with a frown. “Didn’t you bring a change of clothes?”
He grabbed the backpack, slung it onto one shoulder, then pulled her to her feet. “I was focused on getting you, not getting away,” he said, leading her toward the hall that skirted the end of the pool room.
“Wait; Kitalanta,” she said, trying to turn back to the outside door.
Alec kept dragging her. “He doesn’t like the tunnels.” He chuckled again. “He’ll probably beat us to the campsite.”
“But we’re not going to the campsite,” she said, rushing past him to open the pump room door and pulling him inside before turning and wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing into him. “We’re going to the grotto.”
Chapter Twenty-two
Alec stopped just inside the entrance to the grotto and dropped Jane’s backpack in the sand when the beam of his headlamp illuminated the interior—or rather, the furnished interior—of the cave. “When did you do all of this?”
“Mom and I ditched Nicholas by telling him we were spending the d
ay primping for the ball and then snuck down here this morning,” she said, bending to pull something out of her pack. “Mom thought we should spruce the place up a bit. Do you like it?”
“Ye lugged all this stuff down the tunnel?” he said in disbelief, shining his light on what looked like a large feather mattress, at least a dozen fancy pillows of varying size, several puffy blankets, a Persian rug, wineglasses, and several bottles of wine, a wicker trunk—doubling as a table, he assumed, judging by the two pillows on each side of it—enough candles to light an entire house, and…was that a copper bathtub? “It would have taken two packhorses to carry all this down here, and that tub sure as hell didn’t come through the tunnel. Where did all this stuff come from?”
“From Daddy’s ship.”
Alec whipped his head around, shining his headlamp out at the sheltered cove. “His submarine? The one Trace Huntsman nearly sank when Mac stole Henry from him? But I heard it was half the size of an aircraft carrier,” he said when she nodded. “Ye mean it can fit through the underground river running up from the Gulf of Maine, and that it’s out in the fiord right now?”
“No,” Jane said, giving him a lopsided smile. She pointed at the north wall of the grotto. “It’s in a really large cave about a hundred yards through the granite. And you know that steel door a little ways up the tunnel from the shoreline that you asked about when we came down just now, because you hadn’t seen it on the blueprints? Well, it’s locked because it leads to the dock Mac built for Daddy’s ship. Mom got some of the crew to lug this stuff in for us, then she helped me make the place all cozy and…romantic.” She shrugged. “The bathtub was her idea.”
“Pretty damn sure of yourself, weren’t you?” he drawled as she walked away and started lighting the candles sitting on tiny ledges jutting from the walls of the cave.
Once she had several lit, Jane shut off the lamp dangling from her jacket zipper, then pulled off Alec’s headlamp on her way by him, tossing it down near the backpack as she headed to the other side of the cave. “I was pretty damn sure I’d be spending the next few days down here with someone,” she said way too cheerily, shooting him a sassy smile over her shoulder and batting her lashes. She started lighting the candles on the other side of the grotto. “Although I had assumed he’d be my husband, not my boyfriend.” She turned and walked up to him, that smile downright saint-tempting as the reflection of two dozen candles danced in her emerald green eyes. “But I guess that’s the way it’s done in the twenty-first century.”
Courting Carolina Page 27
