Sierra wasn’t worried. She had Paul to protect her. His masculine presence took the oxygen from her lungs. Since the confusion and awkward start of the morning, Paul had changed his whole demeanor, and it wasn’t necessarily a good thing. His change had her thinking about him constantly and growing more and more attracted to him, if that was even possible.
“Alright, Paul. This should do the trick,” Zachary said. “This lever here releases the locking mechanism, and the door drops down.” He pulled the lever, and the trap door swung downward into the crawlspace. “Once you’re down, push the door up to close it, and slide the latch from the underside to secure it. Closing the door from up here is a little trickier. You have to push this handle on the wall and secure the lock with the same lever used to open it.”
Paul looked at the floor of his closet in amazement. The trap door was completely invisible to the naked eye. It fit seamlessly into the hardwood floor as if it were part of the floor. The lever had been brilliantly installed on the side of the shelving unit directly above the trap door, blending in perfectly with other wooden shelving parts. If there was a raid, Paul would be able to hide Sierra quickly and effectively.
“Now give it a try,” said Zachary.
Paul kicked the lever and quickly jumped down the hole and closed the door in a matter of two seconds. With an injured crosser in tow, it would take a little longer. Paul scanned the area under the house, noting the restricted head room and cool dampness of the dirt floor. The trap door dumped him to one side of the large open space that was beneath the living room, his parents’ bedroom, the bathroom, and his own room. His mother had filled the far corner under the living room with boxes and bags of clothing, bedding, and non-perishable foods, while his father had worked on the craftsmanship of the door. Should they ever have to use the crawlspace, it was well equipped to handle them for a couple of days, if need be.
To Paul, this new responsibility lifted his spirits and put a damper on the itch to fly the coop. The desire to leave and make a life for himself, one that didn’t include crossers, was relaxed a bit due to the renovations in his room and the girl in his bed. He couldn’t wait to tell Greg. He had finally been promoted to caregiver.
Caregiver to a really beautiful girl.
“Paul, we’re not going to sleep in the same bed tonight are we?” Sierra asked after everyone else had left the room and they were alone.
In truth, Paul had already thought about this, and it made his stomach churn with anticipation. He had slept with her last night just to keep her from dying. It was necessary and essential. But tonight, she was basically fine. Except for the occasional shivering and sore ankle, she’d recovered completely from her crash into the lake.
“I think we have to,” he said. “It would be too much of a giveaway if we were raided and someone was asleep on the floor or couch. It would be obvious we were sheltering guests, and our home would be torn apart.”
“Are you raided often?”
“We’ve had a few. They’ve all been successful though.”
“What do you mean?”
“None of our crossers were discovered.”
“How do you keep them hidden?”
“There’s a basement under the kitchen and dining room part of the house. We have a room down there designed specifically for defectors, with six cots and a small bathroom, plus a hidden doorway leading to a tunnel for escape. Every time we’ve been raided, the crossers have been moved just out of reach.”
She was looking down at her hands in deep contemplation. Paul knew sleeping together was weighing heavy on her mind. It was going to be harder on him than on her, guaranteed. “Look, I’ll mind my manners tonight. You don’t have anything to worry about.” She looked up at him nervously. He changed the subject to get her mind off it. “Tell me about how you escaped the palace.”
She relaxed a bit. “The palace physician, Dr. Roth, had been helping me all throughout my stay at the palace, and it absolutely appalled him to see how Reginald treated me. After being beaten so many times, I felt I would never be able to escape, so I decided to starve myself. I became weaker and weaker, and of course Reginald couldn’t stand to see me, the last Montgomery, slipping out of his reach. So he ordered Dr. Roth to hook me up to an IV and nourish my body against my will.”
“What do you mean the last Montgomery?”
“I’m the last of my family line. The ousted queen was from the Montgomery line and was well liked by my people, the Rendierians were loyal to the Montgomery family. Reginald felt the public would like him better if his son married a Montgomery.”
“Wait a minute. Are you saying you’re a member of the former royal family? You’re a princess?”
“Well, technically, yes,” she reluctantly admitted.
This changed everything. Paul looked at her with a completely new level of respect and awe. There was a princess in his bed.
“Anyway,” she hastily continued, “Dr. Roth confided in me that he knew a plane would be taking off with a load of crossers as soon as the lake froze over. I would need to eat and regain my strength if I wanted to be on it. He would continue to portray my condition to Reginald as ailing and poor in the hopes of delaying the wedding, although in the end nothing would delay the wedding, even if I was wheelchair bound. Dr. Roth told me that when the plane was ready to fly, he’d poison the evening meal and make everyone in the palace sick. Like a bad case of stomach flu. I’d hopefully be able to sneak out undetected. It worked. The gate wasn’t even guarded when I walked out.”
“What did he put the poison in?”
“The whole meal: the meat, the bread, the water, and the desert.”
“What did he use?”
“No idea. But it worked. I boarded the plane without incident.”
“So when was the last time you saw Reginald Rawlings?”
“Last night before dinner, he came down to speak with Dr. Roth about my condition. I tried to lie completely still, as if my strength was long gone. I needed him to think I wasn’t in any condition to flee.”
“Do you think they’ve realized you’re gone?”
“Yes. Not a day goes by that Reginald isn’t looking in on me. He’s completely obsessed. It made me wonder about his reign. I think the threat of a coup is huge, and the marriage was supposed to appease my people. Now that I’m gone, he’ll have to figure out something else.”
“Or more likely, he’ll do everything he can to hunt you down and take you back. Do you have any family living in Baylend?”
“No.”
“What about in Rendier?”
“No. My father was killed a few months ago. That’s when I was taken to the palace.”
“Why was your father killed?”
“Because of me.” Her head fell forward, and she played with her fingers a moment while regaining her composure. “Because I said no to Victor’s marriage proposal. My father died soon after that, supposedly of a heart attack, and I was seized and taken to the palace to be forced to marry Victor.”
“What about your mother?”
“She died when I was little. I don’t remember her much.”
“Any aunts or uncles?”
She shook her head.
“Grandparents?”
She shook her head again. Paul couldn’t fathom being absolutely alone in the world. His growing compassion for her increased another notch.
“Most of the people in Rendier are like me — family-less. It’s better that way.”
“How so?”
“Less worrying. Less grieving.”
Paul truly felt sorry for her. He had family surrounding him every day of every year: a grandmother, aunts, uncles, and a brother along with his parents.
“I’ll be back in a minute,” he said and left the room. Why hadn’t he known this about Rendier before now? Clearly, his parents and Sam knew, and that’s why they were devoted to helping crossers. His grandmother had been helping crossers from the get go. She knew too. Why had it taken Pau
l so long to understand and accept the true evil that existed a mere thirty miles to the south?
He found his father and relayed all the information Sara had told him. The part about the doctor poisoning the palace made Zachary’s eyebrows shoot upward.
“If you hear the doorbell ring, I want you to scramble down that trap door. You hear? She’s got a lot of heat on her head, Paul, and they’re looking for her.”
Paul nodded. “What about the cabin? Isn’t this what we have it for?”
“For emergencies only. This isn’t an emergency yet. Go back to your room and hope the doorbell doesn’t ring.”
Paul grabbed a couple of fresh-baked cookies on his way to his room. He went in and handed Sierra a cookie with a smile.
“So what’s the verdict?” she asked. “Are you sending me on my way?”
“No,” he chuckled, “but if the doorbell rings, we’re supposed to scurry down the hole.” He motioned to the closet.
She took a small bite of her cookie. “Should we practice?”
“What? Going down the hole?” he asked. She nodded. “I don’t … well it couldn’t hurt, or maybe it will hurt, you at least. We don’t have to if you don’t want to.”
“I think we should,” she said with a serious expression. Hurt ankle or not, she didn’t want to be captured.
He set his cookie down and said, “Alright, um, ding dong.” He made the doorbell sound. She quickly dropped her cookie and swung her legs over the edge of the bed. She hopped and limped to the closet, and he grabbed her arm to try to help.
“I’m okay. Just get the trap door, Paul.”
“Oh, right.” He fumbled with the lever. The door dropped open, then he turned to her. “Do you want me to help you down? Or should I go down first?”
“Honestly, it’s a good thing were practicing, because if this were a real raid, I’d be captured already.” She rolled her eyes, then turned and hopped away.
“Where are you going?”
“Let’s start over.”
Paul closed the trap door and walked back over to the bed. “Maybe we should plan this out better. How about if the doorbell rings, I run to the lever and drop myself down the hole and wait for you. You can sit down and put your feet in first, and I’ll ease you down to prevent you from hurting your foot.”
“Yeah, that sounds good. Ding dong!” She sounded off, and they both jumped into action. Paul flipped the lever and dropped down the hole, then turned around to help catch Sierra. She made it to the door just as he was ready to help her down. She sat down and dropped her feet and her body down at the same time. Her fluid action caught Paul off guard, and he scrambled to catch her. His hands were grasping any part of her to try to slow her descent, and his hands slid under her shirt and up her sides to her armpits. Her tee-shirt was all bunched up across her chest. He flushed immediately, but she remained calm.
“Close the door, Paul,” she said to him.
She sat down on the dirt floor and pulled her shirt hem back down to where it belonged. Then she began rubbing her ankle through the splint.
Paul was instantly in front of her. “Did I hurt you?” He was still trying to get his mind off of her satin-smooth skin.
“I’m alright. Let’s do it again. That was too slow.”
“You came down too fast. I wasn’t ready.” They both got up. Paul opened the trap door. He climbed out and turned around to help her. She stood on her good leg, but the bedroom floor was at the level of her shoulders, and she didn’t have the leverage to boost herself up and out.
“I can’t get up.” She looked sheepishly at Paul. “You’ll have to help me.”
He reached under her arms and pulled her up out of the hole. His feet slipped, and he fell on his back, with Sierra landing on top of him with a thud. At least he kept her from hurting her ankle, and his body made for a softer landing than the hardwood floor.
She lifted her head off his chest to look him in the face. The moment hung in the air, the clocks stopped, and the electricity crackled between them. The situation was hardly professional, but very enjoyable.
“Um, maybe you should boost me out of the hole first, next time,” she said quietly, still lying on top of him and looking him in the face.
“Yep, I was thinking the same thing. Wanna do it again?” He smiled that crooked smile out of one side of his mouth.
“Yes.” Why did he have to be so sexy? Did he realize how attracted she was to him? She didn’t move from her position on top of him. She didn’t want to.
In one swift movement, Paul placed one hand behind her head and the other on the small of her back and rolled over. Instantly she was on the bottom now, without bumping her head, and Paul had his weight resting on his elbows with his hands still under her and his legs at her side. His face hovered directly above hers for a moment while he looked deep into her eyes. Then he jumped up and held out his hands to help her up.
They were both breathing a little heavy as they took their positions on the bed.
“You forgot to close the trap door,” she pointed out breathlessly. He went over and closed it. He came back and sat down, but before he’d completely sat, she made the doorbell sound.
“Ding dong!” They both quickly and smoothly hustled over to the closet, and Paul slipped down the hole. Sierra sat on the edge and put in her feet and paused for only a half second till she felt his hands on her thighs. A sizzling buzz shot through her. She inched forward, and he let his hands slide up to her waist, then he lowered her to the ground using his body as a supporting slide.
At least his hands didn’t lift her shirt, but this was much more exciting, having her slide down the entire length of his body to the dirt floor. He closed the trap door and sat down beside her, breathing heavily.
“Better?”
“Yes, much better,” she answered, looking over at him. Her eyes met his, and the earth stopped rotating. His eyes had a way of staring right into her soul. He would never hurt her, she could sense it.
Paul watched her face in the dim light of the crawlspace. He watched her smile start with her eyes and progress down to her mouth. He had the incredible urge to kiss her, but his mother’s voice saying “not professional” echoed in his mind.
He stood up to put some distance between them and popped open the trap door again. This time he held her waist and boosted her up till her top half was up lying on the bedroom floor. Then he meant to grab her legs and push them up and out, but his eyes were drawn to her perfectly round bottom positioned directly in front of him. He took a moment to appreciate the wondrous view and then grabbed her legs just above each knee and pushed her up the rest of the way. He jumped up and out of the hole to find her sitting on the floor by the closet with her arms wrapped around her knees pulling them up against her chest.
“That was definitely better on the way down,” she said, “and that’s what we need to work on. Getting back out isn’t s-so urgent.” A shiver shot through her body.
“Are you cold?”
“Mmm hmm.”
Paul reached over to the pile of blankets and grabbed a thick one. He scooted closer to her and draped it over her shoulders, snuggling it around her neck. This type of tender gesture was new, and it surprised him how easily it came to him.
Sierra thanked him and looked down at the floor. Anywhere but his eyes. All day long she had been studying him, watching every nuance of his behavior. And all day long she had been cataloging everything about his appearance and his actions in her mind. Like when he smiled at her, his head would tilt back slightly and his eyelids would come down a little. When he laughed, his eyes twinkled, and smile lines extended out at the corners. Whenever he seemed worried, he pulled his chin a fraction of an inch closer to his chest, and worry creases between his eyebrows gave away his concern. His interested look had his eyebrows rising just a bit, exposing his eyelids ever so minutely. Of course, his level of excitement or nervousness could be measured by watching the frequency of his Adam’s apple bobbing up an
d down.
She hadn’t seen what fear looked like yet.
One thing was for sure, she found it difficult to breathe whenever he studied her the same way.
“Well,” he interrupted her thoughts, “have you had enough, or should we do it again?”
“I think we’ll be fine together.” She started to get up without losing her blanket off her shoulders and without putting any weight on her foot. Paul quickly came to her aid and lifted her up to a standing position, where she now realized he was only a few inches taller than she was but enough that she had to look upward slightly to see his eyes.
He had a hold of her elbows, balancing her as she stood on one foot, and their eyes were locked on one another. His mind raced along with his heart, and he swallowed hard in an attempt to get in control of his urges. Like the incredible urge to kiss her.
Instead, he turned and helped her over to the bed.
His bobbing Adam’s apple had not gone unnoticed by Sierra. She sensed his attraction to her. It was in the very air. His physical strength had been displayed throughout their little practice session, along with his weaknesses. She seemed to be his weakness.
After she got comfortable on the bed, he sat in the armchair in the corner, with his elbow on the armrest and his hand massaging his cheek. “What kind of a man is Reginald’s son?”
“Victor? Terrible.”
“In what way?”
“In all ways. He’s selfish, cruel, and unforgiving. He’ll make a horrible ruler someday.”
“Is he dangerous? You know, physically abusive?”
“I haven’t ever seen him pushed that far. Mostly he has his bodyguards do the threatening or fighting for him, so I guess that would make him quite wimpy. However, his guards do what he says. If he wants someone to be beaten to within an inch of their life, they will be. I don’t think he himself would ever do much of the physical fighting.”
“Why bruise a knuckle, right?”
“Right,” she said.
“How old are you, Sara?”
Scars Of Defiance Page 6
