by Nancy Gideon
“My king, how fine you look today.”
He gave a big ribald laugh. “I look like hell and am probably dying, but I’m still vain enough to like hearing lies from pretty girls.”
Kendra hadn’t seen him up close for some time and was frankly startled by his deterioration. A huge, torso-heavy man with a mane of red hair, he’d spent his lifetime indulging in every possible vice, because he could. Apparently, those fleshy pleasures had caught up to him. His skin was sallow, his once piercing eyes almost filmy. There was wetness in his faint gasps for air. Whatever was eating at him, Kendra hoped it was horribly painful and of irreversible progression. She took the hand he offered with its excess of gaudy rings and placed a dutiful kiss upon it. She kept her gaze lowered, fearing that if she glanced up, she’d find him ogling down the front of her dress. The feel of his clammy skin was repulsive enough.
“You honor me with your attention, my king.”
“It’s been an honor having you placed in my care.”
Over the corpses of my family. Teeth gritted, she kept her reply mild. “You’ve been very kind and generous. And patient.”
“My concern for you is the reason I’ve called you here.” A sudden wracking cough made him pause; he began again with a slight wheeze. “I’m being unpleasantly reminded that I’m not immortal. I need to make sure our clan is entrusted to the right hands. I have eight eligible sons. All would make strong leaders if they had you beside them.”
Kendra almost dropped to her knees as they went traitorously weak. Time’s up. Her breath caught as he continued.
“I have four bonded sons who have fine mates, but none of them would be my choice as queen. You’re the one I would have seated next to my successor.”
Her thoughts scrambled desperately. “I have no political pull, no experience.”
He cut her off. “You have sentimental ties to my people. They’d rally behind you no matter which of my sons you picked. Your father was beloved by our clan. He was a great man, with many friends.”
Her shock and distress loosened a tongue she ought to have held. “Then perhaps you shouldn’t have killed him.”
Her soft words echoed in the room like the sound of a trapdoor dropping out from under her feet. Kendra could see her death in the widening surprise and slow furious narrowing of Bram’s eyes. The fact that he refrained from immediate retaliation had her wondering if she held some degree of power after all.
“One makes mistakes that are later regretted,” he told her with careful control. “I plan to amend that by bonding you to one of my sons.”
Cale stepped forward with a quick “I demand the right of first claim.”
Startled, Kendra glanced his way. His tightly leashed intensity reminded her that behind the civilized veneer, a barely restrained attack dog quivered at the end of its chain. She had no doubt that, if released by a word from his father, he would take her to the floor right then and there to seal the deal for that coveted place on the throne.
Bram chuckled. “I’m sure you do. But you’ll wait your turn, just as your brothers will have to. The decision is hers. Step back and be silent.”
Cale inclined his head slightly, withdrawing to stand beside his siblings, though his coiled focus never wavered. His stare remained fixed upon her.
Bram offered an apologetic smile, saying, “Boys,” with an indulgent shrug, as if that explained away everything. “Patience is not a virtue of the young, so I’m afraid I must insist on an answer before the decision is taken from you.”
Kendra swallowed in panic. “How could I choose among them, my king? I’ve never even exchanged words with most of them, so how could I pledge my future? I can’t rush a decision this important if I’m to serve your crown by choosing wisely.”
Impatience wasn’t just a curse of the young. She could see it thinning Bram’s lips before they eased into another smile. “I was right to select you, my dear. You’ll give this task the gravity it deserves and this clan the heirs it needs.”
Heirs.
Suddenly, all Kendra could hear was the hard rhythm of Cale’s breathing. Imagining the forceful heat of it on the back of her neck quickened a shiver. She held her ground, but not without difficulty.
“If it’s courting you want,” Bram announced, “that’s what you’ll have. A little contest to put my sons through their paces will be good for them. Some competition to impress you and some conversation to woo your affection. And then you’ll choose.”
Kendra had no interest in getting to know the fiercely misogynistic Terriot princes. What she already knew was the stuff of nightmares. All she was after was a stay of execution that would give Silas time to snatch her from their grasp. And keep her from their beds.
“Thank you for the opportunity to be fair and wise.”
And, if she were very lucky, to escape.
“She’s spunkier than I remember,” mused James, the oldest Terriot son, as he brushed an imagined speck of lint from his jacket sleeve.
“And I bet quite a looker, given half the chance,” Wesley added. He followed her retreat with an appreciative eye. “Hard to notice when that redhead was in the room.”
Cale kept silent. He ignored his brothers’ comments. They knew nothing about Kendra Terriot, and that was where he’d have the advantage. Because he knew everything. Her every secret, her every dream. Her every fear.
Bram stood, gaining their attention as he spoke. “Wesley, have James and Frederick help you arrange a sparring exhibition for this evening to give our future princess a taste of your talents. It’s been a while since you’ve had a chance to show off. Cale, stay with me.”
If his brothers resented his being singled out, they kept it carefully hidden as they obediently left the room.
The blow was as hard as it was unexpected. At one time, it would have knocked Cale to the floor and kept him there for a good number of minutes. But in his weakened state, Bram only unbalanced him for a stumbling step to one side.
“You forget your place, boy,” Bram snarled. He flexed his hand in aggravation as if angered more by his frailty than by his son’s insubordination. “Watch your tongue or lose it. No one makes demands of me.”
“Forgive me, my king.” Cale straightened without haste or fear to meet his father’s displeasure unblinkingly. “I apologize for speaking out of turn.”
After a tense minute, Bram cautioned, “Don’t let ambition get the best of you. It’s not becoming in a prince.”
Since when had subtlety reined in Bram the Beast’s gluttonous appetite for power? The first thing his father had taught Cale was to grab all you can reach before it gets away, then hold it at all costs, even if having it meant nothing. It was the ownership that mattered. As a rule, the Terriots wanted everything they saw, especially if it belonged to someone else, and they were willing to kill or be killed to possess it.
Probably why his father had sired a dozen sons, all on different females.
“Clever girl,” Bram mused with a reluctant admiration. “Your future queen took me by surprise with her boldness.”
Cale almost smiled. She’d shocked the hell out of him, too. Then perhaps you shouldn’t have killed him. Bravo, Kendra. Grown men hadn’t dared speak to his father with such condemnation.
My future queen. Anticipation spiked like a fever, making Cale forget everything but the image of her in that damp, revealing robe. All he’d endured, all he’d sacrificed, was for this moment. “Then you’ll honor my request? Our bargain?”
Bram sidled away from commitment. “The girl has put me in an awkward spot. I can’t show you favoritism, not in front of the others. It’ll be up to you to discourage them while encouraging her to accept you. Are you prepared for that task?”
“I am.” No hesitation. An end was in sight, his reward for all the grueling achievements he’d piled upon a tenuous promise made long ago.
Again, his father only teased him. “There’s another matter. The MacCreedy female.”
“She sho
uld no longer be a problem.” And good riddance.
“She’s never quite what she should be, is she? Her escort hasn’t come back. There’s been no word from them.”
Cale frowned, annoyed by Brigit’s ability to intrude upon his moment of accomplishment. “Maybe she talked them into taking her all the way to New Orleans with the promise of favors they’d be fools to think they’d ever enjoy.”
“I might believe that of others, but not of Foster and Pyle. Find out where they are and handle the matter. I don’t want her disrupting our plans.”
“Yes, sir.” That was the last thing he wanted as well.
“Claim your princess quickly before she or her quarrelsome family comes up with any other inventive detours. I’ll leave the ways and means up to you. If she won’t let you court her, convince her.”
“I will.”
Bram resumed his chair, appearing winded and tired, something he’d never have done in front of his other heirs without expecting to be instantly overthrown. Apparently, he felt safe in assuming there was a stronger familial bond between them. Perhaps another of those mistakes he’d regret.
“I won’t leave behind an empty throne, Cale. I want to secure future generations to rule in my absence. If you’re so eager to replace me, seed your female at your earliest opportunity. You can have a conversation with her afterward.”
“I understand.”
What Bram Terriot didn’t realize was that his coveted throne wasn’t the motivating prize Cale was after.
It was Kendra.
“What are you doing in here?”
The dark-haired female straightened from rifling the dresser’s top drawer and turned toward Kendra with a bright smile. “Hi! I’m Rosie. I’m your new roommate. I was just trying to decide where to put my stuff so I can move in.”
An unfamiliar resentment stirred at the thought of this stranger invading the space she’d shared with Brigit. Kendra’s tone was sharp. “That’ll have to wait until I’ve packed away my cousin’s things.”
“Oh.” A quick bat of big dark eyelashes. “Of course. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to rush you.”
Kendra’s manners got the best of her temper. She smiled apologetically. “Give me about an hour to make room for you.”
Rosie’s grin dazzled. “Great. I can’t wait to be best friends.” With a friendly squeeze of the arm, she bounded out, leaving Kendra disheartened by the task ahead.
Only forty-eight hours ago, she would have indulged in tears until Brigit calmed her anxieties. Now she couldn’t afford the luxury of weakness. She had to be strong and watchful. Taunting Bram Terriot hadn’t gotten her off to a stellar start.
Her gaze settled on the open drawer, and a furrow crowded her brow. She went quickly to check the contents: her jewelry box, some mementos of the past. An ugly suspicion bloomed. Which had Rosie been after? Her riches or her memories?
She touched the packet of letters and photographs, noticing that they were ill aligned, as if batched together in a hurry. One was upside down. She separated it from the others, her chest clutching tight as she turned it over to study the four children on a pontoon boat. Her mother had taken the picture from the dock below on a hot summer’s day. It was the last time they’d all been together.
A swift, nearly crippling sorrow rose when she thought about those early days of innocence. She tried not to look back, but that poignant scene held her.
Silas MacCreedy was piloting. Tall and whipcord-lean in his swim trunks and polo shirt, eyes concealed by dark glasses, with an unsmiling expression that said he’d rather be anywhere else. Brigit, already beginning to exhibit curves in her bright yellow bikini, was stretched out on the deck, reading a fashion magazine while religiously working on her tan. Kendra had been captured mid-shriek, about to be tossed overboard by the final member of their constant quartet.
Her arms were wrapped about the neck of the boy whose wide grin was as dazzling as the brilliant precious stones in his ears. The obnoxiously large diamonds were given by Bram Terriot to each of the young princes upon the swearing of fealty. How she’d cried that morning when she’d seen them freshly piercing his lobes, because they meant he was no longer hers.
With a sudden ache of clarity, Kendra could hear his quirky laugh, see the playful devilry in his eyes, feel the heat off his skin. Her thumb traced that mischievous smile.
After a glorious day upon the water, he’d pulled her away from her cousins and taken one of the diamond studs from his swollen ear and placed it in hers, pledging that she would always hold an equal share of his love and loyalty. Being a silly young girl, she’d thought that gesture the most painfully romantic thing ever and believed him with all her naive heart.
Kendra buried the photo and the memory with the others, then took out her jewelry box to check the contents. She didn’t own anything extravagant, not like Brigit, who coveted flash. Just a simple rope of pearls her mother had given her, a fine gold necklace from her father, some colorful bracelets Silas had brought back for her from his first trip abroad, and one large diamond ear stud, its post still dark with blood.
She hadn’t noticed until Cale Terriot had stepped forward boldly that morning. He still wore its single mate.
two
Potential friend or treacherous spy? Rosalee Danner hung her clothing in a recently emptied closet while chattering about that evening’s contest like a silly star-struck groupie. Kendra knew better than to believe what she observed at face value.
Intrigues ran deep and dangerous in the mountain stronghold where the House of Terriot protected itself from the outside world while battling among themselves. Alliances made one day became bitter rivalries the next. As leader of their clan, Bram encouraged violent competitiveness in his people, especially in his sons. Strength meant power. Cunning ruthlessness ensured keeping it. His successor would have to possess a superior degree of both.
The MacCreedy family had famously refused to come to heel, unwilling to bow before Bram or to play his political games. Whether they were noble or foolhardy, their rebellious stand had been a continued thorn in Bram’s side as they chose to live under the radar in uncontrolled Louisiana rather than within the Terriot territories of Nevada. As Silas and Brigit’s father was the second cousin of and great friend to her own, Kendra was able to spend time with them when her parents traveled on Terriot business, but her family had been unshakably loyal to their clan. She’d adored her older cousins, the coolly intelligent Silas and flamboyant Brigit, and when tragedy took her mother, she’d found a safe haven in their company. Over the years, they’d become permanently entangled in one another’s lives, Brigit as her fierce protector and Silas as her unrequited love.
If anyone could rescue her from this political destiny, it was the two of them. All she had to do was stay alert and tread carefully. And evade the trap of bondage to one of Bram’s sons.
“It must be so exciting, knowing they’ll be fighting over you,” Rosie gushed as she stretched out atop Brigit’s bed to gaze dreamily at the ceiling. She’d have been shocked to realize how horrified Kendra was by that idea.
“They’re not interested in me. They’re battling for the throne, and I happen to be their ticket to rise.”
Rosie rolled onto her side to regard Kendra with awe rather than envy. “Still, such an honor. Which do you favor?”
Kendra suppressed her shudder. “I’m keeping an open mind.”
“Pick James. You two would suit each other. Then we’d be like sisters.” She was the eldest son’s first cousin. If that match were made, Rosie’s status would elevate enough for her to snag a prince of her own. Kendra read the eagerness in her stare.
“Which one would you choose for yourself?” she asked out of curiosity. And to see where the girl’s loyalties might lie.
“Rico. Or Michael. I can’t decide. They’re both so . . .” She shivered ecstatically.
Dangerous, Kendra inserted. “Not Wesley or Cale? They’re the most likely to succeed.”
&
nbsp; “Wes’s mother scares me, and Cale . . . he’s just plain scary.” Her gaze widened. “I hear he declared for you.”
If Rosie had heard, everyone had. Clever of him, putting that claim out so quickly, even at the risk of his father’s anger.
“I saw your pictures,” Rosie admitted with a blush. “I didn’t mean to look through them, but I’m such a snoop.” She grinned, and Kendra found herself forgiving her. “You and Cale spent time together? I can’t believe that was allowed.”
“His mother and mine were best friends, so we saw a lot of each other when we were little. We haven’t spoken in years. I’m sure he doesn’t remember those days.” She was trying not to. Looking back was an exercise in futility, Silas always told her. That left only the uncertain dread of her future. Maybe her new roommate could be of some assistance there.
“Rosie, you know all the latest news. I’m so out of touch with that sort of thing.” Brigit’s plan to isolate Kendra from the politics of their clan had included distancing them from the females of their group, even under the protective roof of their lodge. The two of them kept to themselves, with no allies or friendships. And now, without her cousin’s company, Kendra was adrift and unsure where to safely turn. “Maybe you could help me find out something.”
Rosie brightened instantly. “If I can.”
“What have you heard about my cousin Brigit?”
Rosie leaned forward to intimate. “I heard she rejected Cale’s sexual advances, and he had her banished.”
Kendra almost laughed out loud at that absurdity but pretended proper shock. “Really?” The two of them wouldn’t voluntarily touch unless to exchange blows. But it did mask the true reason: to get rid of a roadblock to her own imminent mating. Brigit had managed to keep the Terriot men at bay with tenacious dedication.
“I haven’t heard from her,” Kendra continued. “Do you think you could find out where she was sent?”
“I could ask James. I’m sure he’d know. And don’t worry, I won’t let on that it was you who was asking.” Her smile grew speculative. “Maybe you’d let me sit by you this evening.”
