Claiming His Christmas Consequence

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Claiming His Christmas Consequence Page 9

by Michelle Smart


  Escaping the building and getting to the airport had been problem free. On arrival, she’d searched the departing flights and Andorra La Vella had immediately jumped out at her. She’d known even as she’d queued for her ticket that she wouldn’t stay there but seeing the name Andorra had brought to mind the town of Benasque, which she knew was over the border on the Spanish side of the Pyrenees Mountains.

  She’d paid for her ticket with the stolen money. It had been the first time she’d physically handed money over for anything. The palace had always paid for everything. Other than the raised brow she’d received from the woman serving her when she’d checked Catalina’s passport, no one had batted an eyelid at her, although she had heard one child saying to her mother as they passed that she looked like Princess Catalina.

  There had been a moment of panic when the enormity of what she was doing finally set in but she’d smothered it with thoughts of her growing baby. Those idle weeks in Nathaniel’s apartment had brought her whole life into focus. And it wasn’t a life she wanted for her child. If she didn’t leave Monte Cleure now she knew she might never have the chance again.

  It was the moment she hadn’t known she’d been waiting for all her life. It was an opportunity that would never come again. If she couldn’t take the freedom beckoning to her for her own sake, she needed to grab it for her baby.

  But what had started almost like a great adventure had quickly turned into something far more stressful than she could have anticipated. There had been so many people at the airport for a start, who had all been jostling each other, on a mission to be somewhere. Until that point all the interaction she’d had with others outside the palace had been carefully stage-managed and choreographed. She’d given as much of herself to them as she could but there had always been security by her side and an invisible line between them, which the public had instinctively known they could not cross.

  Now, that invisible line had gone.

  In Andorra, a nice gentleman at the airport had given her directions and assistance, and two hours later she’d been bundled up in cold weather clothes and on a bus heading to the town she remembered her mother talking about from her own childhood. If she’d known it would take almost eight hours to get there and that she would suffer from motion sickness, she might have thought twice and hired a taxi, but she had thought travelling by bus would give her greater anonymity. If not for the sickness she might have enjoyed the novelty of it all.

  She didn’t expect to hide for ever; indeed she was surprised she’d managed it as long as she had. All she wanted was the peace she’d found to last for as long as it could before she made the call and faced the music. One more day. Then she would tell her father she wasn’t coming home.

  She put her groceries away and opened the box containing the mobile phone she’d bought earlier. She might have come to a nasty realisation about her family and the twisted dynamics within which it operated, but she didn’t want to cause them unnecessary worry. She’d called the palace from Andorra’s airport to let them know she was safe and would be in touch soon, then had hung up before Lauren, who’d taken the call, could question her.

  She hadn’t called Nathaniel. She figured he’d celebrate the news she’d left. She’d freed him of his responsibility towards her. As for the money...

  Her face burned to think of what she’d done. She’d stolen his money. She was a thief. She’d never understood how guilt could stop someone from sleeping but now she did, the knowledge of her thievery an unmovable fire in her brain.

  But it was more than that. She couldn’t get him out of her mind.

  She couldn’t put it off any longer. Her family could wait a bit longer but she would call Nathaniel tonight.

  There was a rap on the front door.

  She put the phone down on the counter and headed cautiously to the kitchen window to see who was calling. In her ten days here she’d had only one visitor, and that had been the cabin’s owner.

  Her heart practically flew out of her mouth when she saw the tall figure of Nathaniel standing there.

  Before she could hide he turned his head and looked straight at her.

  Her heart was pumping so hard its beat echoed in her ears. She never had the chance to get to the door because he pushed it open.

  There was a long period of silence.

  He glowered at her, larger and more powerful than she remembered, the green of his eyes glittering with menace.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  NATHANIEL STAMPED THE snow off his brogues. After ten days of increasingly frantic searching, he had found her.

  It was a long time before he could trust himself to speak. ‘You have a lot of explaining to do, Princess.’

  His relief at having found her was replaced with a burst of fury. If she had any idea what she’d put him through...

  When it had become clear that Catalina really had disappeared...

  He’d experienced the most powerful sense of déjà vu, hurtling back twenty-eight years to the day he’d heard that powerful rumble and then minutes later seen the thick wave of snow spreading over the location where the wooden ski bar had been.

  The fear had been intense. Overwhelming. There had been moments in his search for her when panic burned like acid in his guts and he’d wondered if he would ever see her again or would ever meet their child.

  But he’d found her now.

  The cabin was cosy and open-plan, a small dining table dividing the kitchen area from the living area. Catalina stood, seemingly rooted to the spot, at the kitchen counter, her eyes not leaving his. There was wariness in them and not a small amount of fear, but intermingled with those emotions was clear defiance.

  ‘Don’t tell me you thought you could hide for ever?’ he said scathingly. She looked surprisingly well apart from the two fingers on her left hand that had plasters across the knuckles. Her porcelain cheeks had a healthy glow to them the like of which he’d never seen on her skin before. She wore black straight-cut stretchy corduroy trousers and a thick knitted navy jumper that fell to her knees. On her feet were fluffy slipper boots that looked, to his eyes, dreadful, but seemed strangely apt for the setting.

  These were clearly clothes his money had bought because she definitely hadn’t taken any of her clothes from his apartment.

  ‘Not for ever, no.’ She shook her head from side to side, backing away from him like a cornered cat. ‘How did you find me?’

  He blew into his hands. The cabin’s warmth went some way to defrosting his chilled bones. He’d forgotten how cold winter in the mountains could be.

  ‘By employing my best people to find you. I assume you chose this spot deliberately.’ He shook his head, unable to believe the serene Princess he’d desired from afar for years could be so underhand and cruel.

  He’d never have believed she was a thief either. Or that she would prove so adept at hiding. By the time he’d landed back in Monte Cleure it had been clear her disappearance was no case of abduction. The call she’d made to the palace had confirmed this. Catalina had run away. She’d taken herself and the little life they’d made together and left him.

  To find her here, in the snow-capped peaks of the Pyrenees at the height of the skiing season...

  Her chocolate eyes lost their dazed look and snapped into focus, piercing straight through him. He’d forgotten how seductive they could be.

  ‘I’m here because it’s a place I’ve always wanted to visit.’

  How could she be so calm? Whereas he...he was a ball of lava wrapped in a shell that was eroding by the second, the pressure gearing up to an explosion.

  Ten days of worry. She’d stolen a heap of his money but he hadn’t been able to stop himself worrying about how she would look after herself without the twenty-four-hour assistance she was used to. He’d expected to find her bedraggled and unkempt.

/>   Yet her hair was shiny, her skin clear and she held herself with the same poise she’d always had.

  You could take the woman away from all the trappings of royalty, he thought, but her breeding always shone through. Catalina could be dressed in a pinafore, scrubbing bathrooms, and she would still have a regal bearing.

  But that royal body was as womanly and as earthy yet as heavenly as it was possible to get; silk and cream enveloping fire.

  He clenched his teeth together. ‘A place you wanted to visit which just happened to be on a snow-capped mountain? Have you been skiing?’

  ‘Of course not.’

  ‘You’d better not have.’

  ‘Or what?’ There was a flash of fire in her eyes. ‘You’ll punish me?’

  ‘Don’t talk such nonsense.’

  ‘Then don’t threaten me. I’ve spent my life dealing with threats and I won’t put up with them any more.’ Her voice was clear and steady; only the way her fingers played with the fabric of her long jumper hinted at any distress beneath the cool façade. He recalled her doing the same thing on the drive to his apartment after their wedding, wearing the dress he’d longed to peel from her body, to replace the material with his lips and his body. And then again, at the opera, in that long black figure-hugging dress he’d also longed to peel away.

  ‘I was not making threats, but, as you’ve so clearly forgotten, you are carrying my child.’ His words almost came out as a shout. He was so angry that he was in danger of losing his temper.

  ‘That doesn’t mean you have claim to my body or my mind. We’re not on Monte Cleure.’ Her lips pinched together. ‘It wasn’t that long ago you thought it amusing that I was happy to let my family have ownership over my body and how I used it. You should be happy that I’ve taken your words to heart—from now on I dictate what I do, not my father, not my brother, not you. I don’t know why you’re here. I thought you’d be glad to see the back of me.’

  He’d thought that too until she’d run away.

  ‘Damn it, Catalina, you’re my wife.’

  ‘Really? I thought I was your encumbrance.’

  It was the coolness tinged with bitterness that propelled him forward to pin her against the counter.

  He inhaled the scent that had played in his memories since their night together and the ache in his chest spread, creeping through every part of him.

  Placing a hand to her cheek, he ran his fingers down the warm soft skin, clasping the base of her chin gently with his thumb.

  ‘You are my wife,’ he whispered. ‘We made vows.’

  Her eyes were wide, the chocolate around her pupils swirling, and her voice dropped to match his, her words breathless. ‘Vows that didn’t mean anything.’

  ‘We made a promise to stay together as a married couple until our child is born. I signed a contract. You have broken your promise.’

  She didn’t flinch but held his gaze, the swirling in her eyes deepening. ‘You broke yours first. You haven’t treated me like a wife. If it’s a case of living with you for another year and then moving back to the palace while they fix me up with another man who will also treat me like an irritant then I’d rather take my chances on my own.’

  ‘It’s not going to happen. You’re going to pack your bags and we’re going to get out of this hellhole.’

  ‘You can go wherever you like. I’m not going anywhere and that includes the prison you call an apartment.’

  ‘You’re coming back with me if I have to carry you kicking and screaming onto the plane.’

  Both of their voices had dropped to below a whisper. Nathaniel could smell her warm breath against his lips and lost the fight with his body, surrendering to the quickening in his loins.

  Her eyes were suddenly stark. ‘Why do you want me to come back? You hate me.’

  ‘I don’t hate you.’ He hated what she’d done and the worry she’d caused him, but how could he hate someone he wanted so badly?

  ‘Then why have you avoided me at every turn? You treat me like a stranger. I hate living with you.’

  In all the years he’d known her, this was the first he’d seen of anything approaching vulnerability in her.

  ‘I was trying to protect you.’ For all the good it had done him.

  ‘Why?’ Her mouth stayed parted after the syllable, so tantalisingly close to his own that if he flicked his tongue out it would press against those beautiful lips.

  ‘I thought I needed to keep my distance because I didn’t want to risk you falling in love with me.’

  The wide eyes suddenly narrowed, anger pulsing through them. ‘Of all the arrogant...’ She pushed at his chest.

  He stepped away from her and leant against the opposite surface, trying to get air into his choked lungs.

  ‘You have nothing to worry about on that score.’ The lips he’d been on the verge of kissing had pressed together.

  Nathaniel laughed. How many women had he heard say they didn’t believe in love?

  ‘Don’t you dare laugh at me.’ This time it was Catalina who propelled herself forward, moving gracefully to jam a finger to his chest. ‘I only slept with you because there was no chance in the world of falling in love with you.’

  ‘Say that again?’ Her cutting barbs felt amazingly like a punch to his ego.

  She glared at him. ‘I felt desire for you. Nothing more. I’d been waiting since I was fifteen to meet someone I wanted and decided not to waste the opportunity.’

  He gazed at her, dumbstruck to hear such things from her mouth.

  ‘It isn’t nice, is it?’ she said. ‘To hear the unvarnished truth.’

  She had him there; his own double standards were coming back to bite him. He said the first thing that came into his mind. ‘Why since you were fifteen?’

  ‘That’s how old I was when I found a couple making love in the palace herb garden.’

  Taken off guard, he gave a laugh of surprise.

  Her eyes narrowed sharply, her finger pushing harder into his chest. ‘It wasn’t funny. It was...’ She swallowed and shook her head. ‘If they’d been caught by anyone else...’

  He would never have expected this turn in the conversation. ‘Who were they?’

  ‘It doesn’t matter. They didn’t see me. I was too scared to stay. But the images wouldn’t leave me. Once I knew they were lovers, I would watch how they acted around each other when they didn’t think anyone was looking.’

  ‘It was a forbidden affair?’

  She nodded. ‘Very forbidden. But once I knew I couldn’t unknow.’

  Nathaniel could identify with that. It had been impossible for his uncle to ‘unknow’ what he had witnessed.

  ‘When I found them together that time, I only saw the desire. That’s what I couldn’t get from my mind. I never knew a man and a woman could be like that with each other. I never saw anything inappropriate between them after that, but the more I watched them, the more I saw they were in love.’ Her gaze dropped and she looked down at her finger still pressed against his chest as if surprised to find it there. She snatched it away and stepped back from him. ‘It ended badly.’

  ‘Love always does.’

  She smiled but it was a mechanical movement of her lips. ‘I’m hoping Isabella will prove that theory wrong. She loves Sebastien very much and he loves her too. But I’ve known since I saw my—’ She bit back whatever she was about to say, her eyes losing a touch of focus.

  There was the tiniest pause before she continued heavily, ‘I only gave you my body. Love is a dangerous occupation for a woman. Especially for a princess. I knew I would have to submit my body to my husband but I knew, whoever I married, that it would be wise to keep my heart and my emotions to myself. The men in my country have all the power. I won’t give any man more than what he can legally take.’ Her chin lif
ted. ‘And now I won’t even give that. I don’t want the future that’s been mapped out for me any more. I’m not going back to Monte Cleure. And you can’t force me to.’

  He contemplated her, his mind awhirl, knowing he couldn’t allow her to derail him from his reason for being there. ‘That’s a very pretty speech you’ve just made and it’s very moving but you are coming back with me.’

  She shook her head with more vigour, her raven tresses swishing with the motion.

  ‘Your father issued a press release five days ago announcing an investigation into Giroud Developments for suspected financial wrongdoings.’ Just saying the words made bile clog his throat. It sickened him to know that while he’d been worrying about and searching for Catalina, he’d allowed her father to manipulate the situation to his own advantage. ‘He’s also confiscated my development and revoked the title deeds to the Ravensberg building.’

  She didn’t say anything, but her mouth opened and formed a perfect O.

  ‘There has been much speculation in your country about your whereabouts. The palace has issued a number of statements on your behalf, pretending everything’s fine, but people are talking. Your father wants you back. You will return with me to Monte Cleure before the rumours gain traction and I will present you at your father’s birthday party a week on Saturday, or I will lose my development and my home there, not to mention my professional reputation for life. If I return to Monte Cleure without you, I’ll be thrown into prison.’

  He had been, in the best of all the English proverbs he had learnt at boarding school, done up like a kipper.

  ‘He can’t do that,’ Catalina said in total disbelief. And in her disbelief she understood the brief hope she’d felt when he’d held her face—the anger in his eyes a total contrast to the tenderness of his hold—and stated she was his wife. The hope she’d known in those foolish heart-pulsing seconds of thinking she meant something to him...

  She’d belittled their night together and what it had meant because she was scared and angry and hurt by his demands. It had been a good reminder of all the things she didn’t want.

 

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