by Penny Jordan
‘More coffee, darling?’
Carrie feigned a sweet smile for the still hovering steward’s benefit, under cover of which she glowered at Jay.
‘No, thank you,’ she gritted.
She could see Jay’s grin as he told the steward, ‘Thank you, that will be all. Please give Chef our thanks. The meal was truly superb—wasn’t it, my sweet?’
‘An unforgettable experience,’ Carrie responded truthfully.
The meal had no doubt been the perfection of culinary art, but she had barely eaten. What she did know, though, was that her anger was certainly eating her!
‘Right!’ she announced, the second the door had closed behind the steward. ‘What’s going on? No more prevarication or delaying tactics. I realise how much you are enjoying this, Jay, but—’
‘As a matter of fact, I am not enjoying it at all,’ Jay told her soberly, suddenly looking very serious. ‘Too much is at stake for that. This isn’t a game, Carrie. And for Luc the stakes are so high, the risks so great…’
‘For Luc?’ Carrie questioned. ‘What do you mean? Please explain.’
She had been as patient as she could be, but the small break in her voice betrayed the strain she was under much more than her previous explosions of anger.
Was it really pity she could see in Jay’s eyes as his glance met hers?
‘Very well. I warned Luc that this would happen, and I wanted him to tell you beforehand, but he felt there was too much of a danger, and that if he did you might inadvertently betray his plans. You know, of course, about the problems he has been facing with the activists? And I think you know why. They are objecting to the existence of secret accounts being held in S’Antander by certain persons whose politics and way of life are or have been in breach of certain basic human rights.’
Carrie frowned, nodding her head.
‘The activists have sworn to take their protests as far as they have to in order to make those people remove their accounts from S’Antander—even if that means that the new, honest and legal tax exiles Luc has persuaded and encouraged to come here become so afraid and concerned that they leave and take their considerable money with them. The end, according to the activists, justifies the means, and they have said that they will stop at nothing either to force the account-holders under suspicion to leave or, if they won’t, then force Luc to abdicate so that they may form a government which will make them illegal.’
Carrie digested what Jay was saying.
‘But Luc himself could pass a law to make such accounts illegal if he wished. Surely…’ she began, stopping when Jay shook his head.
‘He could, technically, but these are powerful, dangerous people with long reaches and long memories. The last thing Luc wants is to turn the country into a bloodbath of attack and counter-attack. Because it wouldn’t just be Luc himself who could become a potential target for their vengefulness,’ he told Carrie sternly.
As Carrie’s face paled Jay nodded his head sombrely.
‘Luc cannot afford to offend these people—not just for his own sake, but for the safety and the lives of his people. He has tried to reason with the activists, to point out the dangers to them, but they are not prepared to listen to reason. Because of that, Luc decided that the only thing he could do was find a way to negotiate with the account-holders and somehow persuade them to voluntarily remove their accounts. However, he knew that if he were to do this publicly it would lead to more problems with the activists, who would claim Luc was pandering to the account-holders and secretly supported them. They might even suggest that he was in their power…their pay…’
‘Luc would never—’
‘Indeed he would not,’ he agreed immediately. ‘But I am afraid there have been rumours spread to the effect that Luc’s grandfather had closer links with some of these people than was ever the truth. As we all know, mud sticks, and whilst Luc believes that many of the activists are genuine in their beliefs and aims there is a core within them that is secretly dedicated to bringing about the downfall of Luc as S’Antander’s ruling prince. That core is not really so concerned about the moral aspect of these secret accounts; it is just using them to cover its own plans to have Luc deposed and to take over the country—perhaps not publicly, but rather to control it from the shadows. S’Antander is in a unique position in many ways, and offers many opportunities and benefits to people wanting to use it for their own gains!’
‘I understand what you are saying,’ Carrie agreed. ‘But I don’t understand why any of this should necessitate you masquerading as Luc!’
‘Well, I must admit I was dubious myself at first, when Luc approached me—but, being Luc, he managed to talk me round. He needed time and privacy to meet with these secret account-holders and diplomatically persuade them to move their accounts elsewhere without offending them. As Luc pointed out to me, he cannot afford the luxury of allowing his personal feelings to control his actions. He has to put his country first; that is his solemn duty and responsibility—a duty and responsibility he swore to uphold the day he was crowned as S’Antander’s ruler,’ Jay told her sombrely.
‘Luc felt that his marriage and subsequent honeymoon would act as the perfect cover for him to slip out of the country unnoticed and engage in the necessary negotiations and discussions. Obviously someone had to be seen to go on honeymoon, someone posing as Luc, which was where I became embroiled in his plans. Originally, of course, he was planning to marry Maria,’ Jay told her carelessly, giving a small shrug whilst a tiny icy-cold and painfully sharp lump formed deep inside Carrie’s stomach. ‘But then Maria threw a real spanner in the works by eloping with your brother, and Luc had no option…’
But to marry me,’ Carrie finished quietly for him.
Jay looked uncomfortable.
‘Well, of course it was different with you…You and Luc have a shared past, a shared relationship—feelings which seeing one another again rekindled. I am sure it must have complicated the situation for Luc, but he was determined to go through with his original plans.’
‘I am sure that he was,’ Carrie agreed coldly. The frozen knot in her stomach was growing larger by the heartbeat, and very soon now it would be filling her middle and reaching out into her veins, into the blood they carried to her heart, chilling that too, freezing it…freezing to death her love, destroying it as Luc had destroyed her! Not once now, but twice. Why, oh, why had she allowed this to happen? Why had she not realised…?
No wonder he had been so keen to make love with her! By that stage he must have already known that he could no longer hold the threat of harming Harry over her—thanks to Maria’s request to him to release her trust fund—and, being Luc, he would have immediately taken steps to replace that hold with another even more powerful one. A hold that would bind her willingly to him instead of unwillingly! How diabolically clever he had been…and how unbearably cruel! He had even cynically and cold-bloodedly used the death of their child to make her vulnerable to him…
And to think she had been stupid enough to believe that he cared about her! He didn’t care at all! In fact he cared as little for her now as he had done all those years ago, when he had instructed his godmother to send her away from him! He was using her now as he’d used her then. And no doubt he wouldn’t hesitate to cast her aside once again when his problems were resolved.
The lump of ice was replaced with a white-hot burning pain, a savage anger that twisted and maimed all the love and softness inside her, turning it into bitterness and hatred. She was wiser now, though, than she had been at eighteen, and there was no way she was going to allow Jay to see how she felt. No way she was going to allow anyone to guess how she felt until she’d had the opportunity to unleash those feelings on Luc himself!
‘My, the two of you have been busy,’ she forced herself to say thinly.
The look Jay gave her warned her that her act was not totally convincing.
‘You’re shocked, I know. It was a very hard decision for Luc not to tell you.’
For a moment Carrie’s anger was so choking that she couldn’t even speak, but somehow she managed to swallow back her fury and agree with Jay—at least outwardly.
‘Yes. It must have been.’
‘He wanted to protect you,’ Jay told her.
He wanted to use me, Carrie thought bitterly—but of course she wasn’t going to voice her thoughts.
‘Using my yacht for your honeymoon was a brilliant idea, don’t you think?’ Jay asked enthusiastically. ‘I have to hand it to Luc for coming up with that, although I’ve got to admit it felt rather odd, being driven from the castle to the marina wearing Luc’s uniform. And then, of course, I had to keep myself out of your sight until after we had sailed. Oh, and by the way, I have to warn you I shall be sleeping in the adjoining cabin to yours. There are interconnecting doors, but naturally they will remain closed throughout the voyage.’
‘Indeed they will!’ Carrie agreed woodenly.
‘I just hope that ten days is long enough for Luc to complete his negotiations. He has already set things in motion, of course…’
‘Of course,’ Carrie echoed, before saying with exquisite politeness, ‘It’s been a long day—would you mind if I went to bed?’
At any other time Jay’s look of relief would have amused her.
‘You really are being good about all of this, Carrie,’ he praised her warmly. ‘I must admit I was a bit apprehensive about how you’d react when you realised I wasn’t Luc.’
‘But Luc, I take it, had no such apprehensions?’ Carrie couldn’t resist asking.
From the look in Jay’s eyes there had obviously been more of an acid bite to her words than she had intended.
‘He had no other option,’ Jay told her loyally. ‘For your own protection it was safer that you didn’t know…’
‘Indeed! I must say I felt very “protected” when I believed that he was in danger,’ Carrie told him coolly.
‘You obviously love him one hell of a lot,’ Jay said roughly.
Carrie turned her head away before she replied, so that her quiet, ‘Yes, I did,’ didn’t reach Jay’s ears.
Carrie looked at her watch. In another few hours they would be docking, the ‘honeymoon’ over.
Jay had done his best to keep her entertained and amused over the last ten days. Since officially they were on honeymoon they had not had any royal duties to undertake, and Jay had carefully made sure that they stayed out at sea, rather than putting in to any European ports. There had been plenty for her to do on the yacht, though; it had its own mini-gym, and was well stocked with the latest books and DVDs. Jay had even attempted to teach her to deep-sea fish. But despite Jay’s best efforts it was Luc and what he had done to her, the way he had so callously used her, that had occupied most of Carrie’s thoughts.
If she had been a different type of woman she could have sustained herself by plotting her revenge—and what a revenge she could have had! Oh, yes, she had had plenty of time to dwell on what Luc had done to her! How much he had hurt her! All those long, empty hours at night when she had lain awake in the huge bed she had expected to be sharing with him. She had tried to use those nights productively, to destroy her love for Luc as she knew she ought to be doing. If only she had been different from the way she was…But she struggled to turn off her emotions like a tap.
Miserably Carrie wondered when she would stop crying. Crying as though something deep inside her heart was making it bleed!
Sombrely Luc contemplated the scene outside the window of his small, nondescript rented room. He had booked it in a fictitious name and had used it hardly at all. Tonight, if all went as he hoped it would go, he wouldn’t be using it at all—because he would be on his way back to S’Antander, with the written agreement of certain parties to the removal of their assets from S’Antander’s bank vaults.
His grandfather had done what he had thought best for his people by allowing these accounts to be opened in the first place, and Luc had to do the same by having them removed. For his grandfather the enemy had been poverty and ignorance, and, while Luc acknowledged that his grandfather had been wrong not to ask many questions of those who had opened bank accounts in S’Antander, he knew that to help the poor and uneducated his grandfather had sold his conscience. And now their descendants reviled the man responsible for their prosperity and comfort.
Luc could not entirely blame them, just as he could not entirely blame his grandfather. Times and conditions had changed. And now, just as his grandfather had done, he too was having to make choices and decisions which would protect the state and the people he was morally responsible for.
There had been many times over the last ten days when he had feared that all his efforts might fail. He’d received angry looks and words from the men he was negotiating with which had warned him against trying to move too quickly or showing any sign of what he truly felt.
In the end his most powerful weapon had been the threat of danger and exposure.
‘I urge you for your own sakes to take this opportunity to remove your assets now, quietly and discreetly,’ he had told them. ‘I cannot guarantee your safety if your identities should become known. The insurgents in S’Antander—’
‘They can be annihilated,’ one of the men had said coldly, and Luc’s stomach had dropped, his flesh crawling at the look in the man’s eyes, but he had refused to drop his own gaze from the menacing basilisk stare.
As arranged, he had had no contact with Jay—just in case any suspicions might be aroused—but that did not mean that the occupants of the yacht had been forgotten. Especially not one of them!
Carrie! He had thought he had everything planned, every detail refined, everything under control—until the day he had looked out of his office window and seen her standing there in the square, and he had…
He tensed as his mobile rang. Flicking it open, he answered the call.
The speaker on the other end of the line merely announced tersely, ‘They’ve agreed,’ but it was enough!
Luc gave the room a last brief look. He would not be sleeping here tonight. Thank goodness! And thank goodness, too, things now looked likely to work out as he had hoped!
CHAPTER TWELVE
IT WAS disorientating to have an unmoving floor beneath her feet again, Carrie acknowledged as she stood in the middle of the enormous bedroom she had been escorted to on her return to the castle. This was to be her new bedroom: the marital bedroom. Automatically her gaze was drawn to the communicating double doors which linked her room to Luc’s.
Luc! Grimly Carrie walked across the thick-pile carpet and stood in front of the window. Like that of her previous room it looked down into the private courtyard garden, but, unlike that one, it shared its large balcony with the room belonging to Luc.
Carrie picked up the glass of iced tea she had ordered and sipped it. She had arrived back at the castle less than an hour ago, having been driven there under cover of darkness. She presumed that Luc was already in the castle, since she could hardly be expected to return from her ‘honeymoon’ on her own, but as yet she had not seen him.
But when she did!
She tensed and swung round as she heard a discreet rap on the outer door of her room, but when Benita emerged from the dressing room, where she had been unpacking Carrie’s things, to answer the door, it was only a footman who was standing there.
‘His Serene Highness wishes to apologise to the Princess for the fact that he is at present involved in a meeting, but he will join her for dinner in one hour’s time and they will be dining en cabinet,’ the footman announced formally to Benita.
A thin, bitter little smile stretched Carrie’s mouth as she listened. How very thoughtful of Luc to send her his apologies! And how very hypocritical!
It was only the depth of her pain and her desire to tell him exactly what she thought of him that was fuelling her now. It overcame the temptation to refuse to go down for dinner, and told her instead that the sooner she informed Luc that their marriage w
as over and that she felt nothing but contempt for her new husband the better.
Something—maybe a sense of pride, of outrage, and of pure, burning female fury—compelled her to dress for the dinner with all the concentration and attention to detail of a general preparing his troops for war!
To Benita’s obvious delight she eschewed the sensibly practical underwear she had brought to S’Antander with her and chose instead to wear a set of the deliberately sensual and provocative matching scraps of silk and lace masquerading as underwear that had arrived at the castle as part of her trousseau.
The bra, halter-necked and low-backed, was nothing more than a whisper of cream silk and exquisite delicate lace butterflies that stroked tenderly against the warm tan of her skin, whilst the briefs were cut low on the hips, where they fastened with one tiny button, and were styled as very, very brief boxer shorts, with matching lace butterflies edging their legs. Her legs, sleek and tanned from the hours she had spent in the sun in the privacy of her own sunbathing area, did not need any kind of cover, and the beauty therapist on board the yacht had only this morning given her a pedicure—her toenails gleamed with shimmering polish.
Was it out of a desire to punish Luc or a desire to punish herself that she had decided to wear the same outfit she had chosen for their first night on board the yacht? Did it matter just so long as in wearing it she remembered the pain of that evening and its revelations?
Her skin, like her nails, gleamed sensuously beneath the glowing light cast from the wall sconces along the corridor as the footman escorted Carrie to the dining room which was not, as she had expected, the large, formal dining room she was already familiar with but a much smaller and more intimate one.
A sharp burn of anxiety scoured her senses as the footman bowed and retreated, leaving her alone.
The room was lit only with vanilla-scented candles. Its walls were covered in rich red damask to match the tall dining chairs, and decorated with ornate gold-framed mirrors.
