by Cathie Linz
Celeste blushed again. “Yes, Your Highness.”
“Give… Abraham my thanks for his assistance.”
“I will, Your Highness.”
“And Celeste…”
“Yes, Your Highness?”
“I’m glad you’ve got someone helping you. I think the two of you would make a lovely couple. I’ll be in touch again tomorrow.”
Celeste was too flustered to even say goodbye.
“Your Majesty, Her Royal Highness Princess Vanessa is on the phone,” Oscar Mullion said.
“I’ll speak with her.” With an imperious wave of his hand, King Leopold of Volzemburg took the phone from his press officer. “You should have called sooner, Vanessa.”
She tried not to be disappointed that his very first words were already filled with disapproval. She also had to remember to keep her voice husky and low, as if she were getting over laryngitis. “I’m sorry, Father.”
“Have you been enjoying your…rest?”
“The rest has done me good, I believe,” she carefully replied.
“When will you be returning home to the palace?” King Leopold demanded.
“The doctor said I could not fly for a week.”
“That was almost five days ago.”
“He has not changed his mind.”
“We need you back here, Vanessa. Sebastian has been most concerned.”
“Tell him thank you, but there is no need for him to be worried.”
“As your fiancé, naturally your health is a matter of concern for him.”
“He is not my fiancé!” Vanessa almost forgot to keep her voice low. “He is not my fiancé,” she repeated more quietly this time. “I wish you would stop saying that he is.”
“Your stubbornness is not an appealing trait, Vanessa.”
It hurt to hear him tell her that, even though she knew that her father found little about her appealing. “I must go, Father. The cell-phone battery is flashing.”
“Remember, Vanessa, you have responsibilities.”
“Goodbye, Father.”
King Leopold handed the phone back to his press officer and said, “The e-mail reports I have been getting are becoming briefer and briefer.”
Oscar replied, “I agree that is cause for concern, Your Majesty. Then there is this photograph that I just received from my contacts in New York.”
King Leopold looked at the picture of his daughter in Central Park. His face darkened ominously. “You know what must be done.”
Oscar nodded. “Yes, Your Majesty. And I will see that it is done properly.”
“I did not leave one prison just to enter another one,” Vanessa angrily informed Mark later that afternoon. “You’ve kept me locked up here all day!”
“It’s pouring rain outside.”
“I’m not made out of sugar,” she retorted. “I won’t melt.”
Maybe not, but he was about to melt. Vanessa certainly made him hot enough. She was wearing that blue dress with the little flowers on it that she’d gotten at the department store. It showed off her great legs. And the scooped neckline showed off her bare skin and a sexy hint of cleavage. She wasn’t wearing her slipper necklace today. Instead, the gold necklace with a St. Christopher medallion rested in the hollow of her throat, tempting him to travel there and taste her with his kisses, with his tongue.
“Listen, Princess, being locked up in such close confines with you hasn’t been any piece of cake for me either,” he said tightly.
His words infuriated and hurt her. She’d already been feeling vulnerable after her brief conversation with her father, she certainly didn’t need Mark adding salt to her wounds. He’d been acting like a bear ever since they’d left the park yesterday afternoon.
“What is wrong with you?” she demanded.
“Nothing is wrong with me.”
“Then why have you been acting so grouchy all day?”
“What do you want from me?” Mark angrily demanded.
“What do you want to give me?” she retorted.
Awareness vibrated the very air between them as they stood face-to-face. He was glaring at her with male irritation, mixed with a very healthy dose of sexual awareness. His expression was wild, fierce and hot—which was exactly how she felt. Her breath caught at the blatant desire that flared in his gaze.
“What do I want to give you? A lecture,” he growled. “Don’t you have a practical bone in your body?”
“Why don’t you check for yourself?” she retorted, holding her arms out, daring him to touch her.
His flame-blue eyes scorched their way down her body even as he growled, “Don’t tempt me.”
“Why not? I thought Marines were so self-disciplined that they’re immune to temptation.”
“Believe me, Princess, I am not immune.” His voice was strained.
Mark took three steps back, putting the couch between them. It was either that or tumble them both to the floor and make wild love to her until she moaned her surrender and her pleasure. He had to keep a lid on his feelings, on his body. She had no idea what she was asking of him, had no idea what his giving in to her would mean. He had to be the responsible one here.
“Okay, to keep you happy, we’ll go out to dinner,” he stated in his best officer voice, the one filled with authority.
Unfortunately it appeared to have no effect on Vanessa. “We’re going out all right. To dinner and then a dance club afterward. There’s one written up in the newspaper that sounds very intriguing.”
“We are not going to a dance club.”
“Fine. I’ll go. You can stay here and keep brooding like you’ve been doing all day long.”
“Don’t you get it? I’m responsible for you.”
His words hurt her yet again. He was making it clear to her that he was only with her out of a sense of duty to his family, because Prudence had asked for his help. But if that was the case, then why had he looked at her as he had, the way a lean and hungry tomcat eyes a saucer of cream?
It didn’t make sense. Unless he was fighting his feelings for her? Was that why he kissed her and then pushed her away? Why he stared at her a few minutes ago as if he’d pay a king’s ransom to kiss her again?
“I’m going out to get some fresh air,” he muttered. “I’ll be back in ten minutes.” He slammed out of the apartment.
Why did he have to be so…complicated?
Here he was the first man to ever treat her like a woman instead of a princess. The first man who made her want him with every fiber of her being.
She’d always longed to be loved for herself, for the woman beneath the tiara. It had never happened. So she’d kept striving, kept trying to please everyone so they’d love her. And ended up almost hating herself.
Mark wasn’t like men in the European aristocracy or the American blue bloods who had escorted her over the years. He wasn’t like Sebastian. He was… Mark. Complicated, sexy, infuriating, sexy, funny, honest, direct, sexy. He saw her for who she was, and while she aggravated him at times and even angered him on occasion, she didn’t disappoint him. He’d never demeaned her opinions, even when he disagreed with them. Sure, he’d said a walk in Central Park at night was a dumb idea, but he hadn’t made her feel dumb for suggesting it.
He didn’t kowtow to her, he didn’t patronize her.
He didn’t kiss her. Why not? She was pretty certain he wanted to. She definitely knew she wanted him to.
Maybe tonight would be the night.
In the end, Mark did accompany her to the dance club. It was either that or lock her in the bedroom. Once he saw her outfit, he certainly had second thoughts about not doing that. And locking himself in there with her.
She was wearing hot-pink, skintight pants in some sort of shiny material and a paler pink shimmery tube top that left her midriff and shoulders bare.
“Where did you get those clothes?” he practically croaked.
“In Paris, why?”
“How did they get here?”
; “I packed them in your duffel bag.”
“You wear clothes like that as a princess?”
“I’m off duty tonight,” she replied. “My dresser didn’t know I brought this along. But I was coming to New York, and I wanted to bring something special just in case I got up the nerve to make a break for it.”
She’d put on her eye makeup with a heavier hand tonight, accentuating her exotically tilted green eyes. She’d also used a luscious, glossy hot-pink lipstick that made a man weak at the knees. She’d used the temporary red hair color shampoo again, only this time she’d done something to her hair to make it stick out in sexy disarray.
She looked like a wild woman intent on seducing a man, not like a prim-and-proper princess.
“Are you sure you want to wear that outfit?” he began.
She interrupted him to firmly state, “I’m positive. And don’t even think about trying to put your sweatshirt with the hood on me tonight.” Her glare held a regal warning.
“I wouldn’t dream of it. But what about a raincoat?” He dived into the closet and retrieved a long trench coat.
“The rain has stopped, and I’d drown in that. It’s miles too big for me.”
“You’ll get cold.”
“Not to worry.” She patted his arm. “I have a big strong Marine to keep me warm.”
Various ways in which he could keep her warm, all of which involved removing his or her clothing or both, immediately filled his mind with X-rated images.
Vanessa knew she was getting to him. She could tell by the glazed look in his blue eyes, by the hunger in his gaze.
He watched her like a hawk throughout their dinner in a trendy Thai bistro with avant-garde furnishings. Afterward they headed for the Meatpacking District and the latest hot spot Vanessa had read about.
They were stopped by the bouncer at the door. “Sorry,” the burly man said with a nod at Mark, who was wearing his customary dark jeans with a dark blue shirt. “We’re full up.”
“Excuse me?” Vanessa blinked, unable to believe she was being turned away. Nothing like that had ever happened to her before. No one turned away Princess Vanessa Von Volzemburg. Of course, she wasn’t here as a princess.
“Too bad,” Mark said cheerfully. “We’ll just head on home then…”
“Absolutely not,” Vanessa said. “There are a number of other hot spots in this area. We’ll just walk until we find one.”
She took off without him, making Mark rush after her. “Hold on a second.”
“Look.” She pointed to a place on across the street and down a block. “That place looks promising.”
Mark had doubts about a bar called Trouble, but Vanessa was hell-bent on going there. This time the bouncer waved them through. Mark quickly checked the place out, noted exits, possible threats, the layout of the floor plan. Not an easy thing to do given the dim light in the bar. A sign by the front door had announced the hip-hop fusion party going on tonight. He’d paid their cover and began to lead Vanessa to a table in a corner, where their backs would be to the wall and where he could see people entering.
The place was beyond crowded, it was jam-packed. The people on the tiny dance floor weren’t so much dancing as they were swaying in place to the loud music. It took them forever to get to the corner table he’d eyed, and by the time they arrived there, someone else had already taken it. Vanessa snagged a nearby table and tugged him down beside her.
The drinks were flowing too easily, which made Mark uneasy. He’d been in enough bars in his life as a Marine to know that drunken rowdy crowds were volatile things. There weren’t enough servers to take drink orders fast enough, which was further upping the tension in the packed room.
When trouble came, it came fast. An angry shove, a shouted curse, and a fight broke out. Mark reached across the table only to have it collapse beneath the weight of a guy who was sent flying from the table to their right. Half a dozen or more people were now involved in the fight as Mark dodged a fist while desperately searching for Vanessa. She’d simply disappeared!
Chapter Nine
Vanessa had never felt such terror. One minute everything had been going fine. She’d been studying the drinks menu and trying to decide if she wanted a French martini or an apple martini. Then all hell had broken out. She’d looked up to see Mark reaching for her an instant before a man crashed onto their table.
She’d leaped to her feet to avoid being crushed by the falling table. Another man leaped on top of the fallen man, and more jumped on top of him as the fight continued. All the people around her were shoving, women were screaming, she was hemmed in. The incident with the wild shoppers at the department store paled in comparison to this. There was real danger here. Real violence. Exploding all around her. Fists flying, men grunting and cursing.
Where was Mark? Was he okay? Or had he been hurt when that man had fallen into their table?
Vanessa didn’t know what to do. She couldn’t move, there was no way through the mob. Was that the flash of a knife to her right? She ducked and frantically searched for Mark.
Fear left a metallic taste in her mouth, and she was shaking. Where was Mark? She had to find him. She couldn’t panic. She had to think clearly.
But she couldn’t. She had no experience with this kind of situation. Chairs were being tossed around and smashed, so were glasses and bottles. Someone grabbed her from behind, and she did what Mark had taught her, she stomped on her attacker’s foot. In case her sandals didn’t do the job, she also performed a backward kick to the groin. Her attacker grunted and released her.
She whirled away, only to be grabbed again. She was about to repeat her self-defense moves when she looked over her shoulder and realized Mark was holding her. She almost fainted with relief.
But there was no time for that.
“Come on!” he shouted over the bedlam, leading her toward an emergency exit behind the stage area near them. She felt the cool air a second before they reached the open door, following a stream of people trying to get out of harm’s way.
When Vanessa’s sandal came undone and fell off, she kept going, hopping to keep up with Mark. Once they were in the alley and he realized her predicament, he swept her up in his arms and kept going. Curling her arms around his neck, she rested her head on his shoulder.
She loved this man. The realization was flashing across her mind like one of those huge neon signs in Times Square. She loved him.
The doubts, the uncertainties were washed away. Her emotions had been distilled by the trauma she’d just been through, condensed to their purest and rawest form. She loved him. It didn’t matter that she was a princess and he was a Marine. That she had responsibilities in her own country and he had a duty to his.
The only thing that mattered was Mark.
She kissed his jaw, so relieved that he hadn’t been hurt. He responded by tightening his hold on her. “Hang on, honey.”
Honey, not princess. It was the first endearment he’d ever spoken to her.
Her heart swelled.
He turned right out of the alley and headed for the street corner. There he set her on her feet only long enough to whistle like a pro for a cabbie. One instantly obeyed his command and swerved across two lanes of traffic to get to them.
Once they were safely ensconced in the back of the cab, Mark wrapped her in his arms.
“I was so afraid you were hurt,” she whispered, reaching up to cup his cheek with her trembling hand.
He pressed a kiss into her palm. “Me? What about you? Are you okay? Did anyone hurt you? Did you sprain your ankle when your sandal broke?”
“I’m fine. Oh, Mark…” Her voice cracked.
“Shh.” He gazed down at her with blue eyes that had gone dark with emotion. Tipping her chin up, he lowered his head to brush his lips against each corner of her mouth before settling on the sweet fullness in between. The featherlight caress was all the more commanding because of its possessive gentleness.
This man may have just saved he
r life. Not just by rescuing her from the fight that had broken out in that bar, but by kissing her. Only now was she realizing how much she’d longed for this, how starved she was for his touch.
The power of her love for him shook Vanessa to her soul. He wasn’t kissing a princess, he was kissing her. She responded the way any woman in love would, by parting her lips and inviting him in. He sipped delicately at her mouth, as if afraid to frighten her with the full force of his passion.
She’d never seen this side of him, this tender, protective side. Yet she sensed the energy coiled inside him, the power.
He cradled her close, drawing her across his lap so that she was draped over his thighs. He handled her with such sweet finesse that she thought she’d die from the excitement burning within her.
Who knew what tomorrow would bring? The danger tonight had brought home to her that their time together was infinitely precious and had to be celebrated. No more waiting, no more uncertainty. She undid the top buttons of his shirt so that she could place her hands on his bare chest.
Softly crooning in her ear, Mark encouraged her actions, setting her on fire as he traced her bare earlobe with his moist tongue. She was glad she wasn’t wearing any earrings because she didn’t want anything getting in between his tongue and her skin. The same held true for his hands. He slid them from her bare midriff beneath her soft tube top to caress her even softer bare breasts.
“I wondered all night what you were wearing beneath this top,” he murmured as he placed a string of openmouthed kisses from her ear to the hollow of her throat where the slipper necklace he’d given her rested.
“Now you know,” she whispered, tightening her arms around his neck.
Taking her face between his hands, he kissed her without restraint, devouring her with a fierce hunger. Vanessa was lost in a firestorm of accelerating and exhilarating pleasure. The wildness she’d sensed in their very first kiss was still there, as was her delight in the tantalizing moves of his tongue. Heat radiated from his body to hers and from hers to his. She was both powerless and powerful, both the seducee and the seducer.
Unlike that first time, now she knew that she and Mark shared something awesome. She knew the power of her own emotions for him, and she gloried in that knowledge, sharing her passion with him as best she could in the speeding cab.
