Natural-Born Protector / Saved by the Monarch

by Carla Cassidy

  Miklos noted the military-issue riffles. They weren’t hunters. But they weren’t military, either. No uniforms. They wore civilian clothing, coats large enough so they could hide their weapons if needed.

  His first instinct was to take them on and take them down. He could gain weapons and possibly information from them. He was moving up to a crouch, getting ready to leap, but then ended up staying where he was, in cover.

  This was not a military exercise or a routine mission.

  If the slightest thing went wrong, if he were injured in any way, if they captured him—that would leave Judi in the cover of a snowbank somewhere behind him. Alone in the freezing cold. And she couldn’t take these conditions much longer.

  Frustration had him grinding his teeth as he stayed down and waited until the men moved on and eventually disappeared behind a boulder. He noted the direction they went and made sure to get a good look at their faces, the most he could do under the circumstances. Not nearly enough.

  “Almost there,” he whispered when he got back to Judi. He lifted her into his arms and, keeping his eyes open for more of the enemy, continued down the mountain. He pushed himself to the limit, aware that the men in the cabin had been talking about two days. Since then, one had passed.

  Whatever the bastards were planning, he had less than twenty-four hours to stop them.

  Any attacks would be happening today. At Maltmore Castle. The security measure of moving the family there had apparently been planned for by their enemies.

  Unease crept up his spine. The enemy had gotten into the guarded section of the catacombs and had killed two guards. The enemy knew the emergency procedures for a security breach at the palace. Did they have inside help?

  He had to reach his brothers and warn them. He had to reach General Rossi and ask him to send immediate help. And he had to get Judi to safety.

  Even in a ski suit and boots she weighed little in his arms. His mood darkened a notch every time he looked at her pale cheeks and closed eyes. Snow had frozen to the tips of her eyelashes. He dipped his head and pressed his mouth against one eyelid, then the other, to warm them.

  She looked like a princess under some curse from the evil Snow Queen of fairy tales. And he was the prince. He was the one who was supposed to save her. He pushed harder, held her tighter. “Come on. Just a little longer. We’re almost there.”

  The village came into view after the next bend, and he moved off the path, tracking through the snow toward the last row of houses, then weaving his way up the back alleys until he reached the kitchen entrance of the inn. “Hang on.”

  He knew the cook. Luigi had been a kitchen hand at the palace for a while until he’d decided to strike out on his own and make his dream of an Alpine inn a reality.

  The heat of the kitchen, when he eased in, was such a sharp contrast to the outside weather that it stung his frozen cheeks.

  Since Luigi was deaf, he could not call out to get his attention, nor would he have done so anyway. He needed to keep their arrival secret. The man felt the small vibration of the door opening and looked back, wide-eyed surprise on his round face. He was about to clap his hands to alert the kitchen staff to the prince’s presence, but Miklos signaled for silence. Then mouthed a single word: help.

  Luigi took in the woman in Miklos’s arms and seemed to understand immediately. He had always been a champion at assessing situations at a glance and reading body language. He gestured behind a rack of cooling bread, and Miklos saw a narrow passageway that led to an equally narrow stone stairway. Miklos slipped in there, and Luigi came quickly after him. The man pointed and directed them until they were up the stairs, down the hall and inside a fairly spacious suite, all natural wood and animal furs and antlers, pictures of the mountains on the walls—an Alpine haven. Probably Luigi’s quarters.

  “Hypothermia.” Miklos turned toward the man after he’d laid Judi on the bed. “I need a doctor you would trust with your life. With mine.” He made sure to speak slowly and form the words with care.

  Luigi couldn’t hear, but he could read lips like nobody’s business. He was already bringing blankets from the wooden chest at the foot of the bed, his large frame moving lightning fast. He nodded.

  “Call him here. Don’t say what it’s for. Say there’s been an accident in the kitchen. Nobody can know that we’re at the inn.”

  Luigi was looking him over. “Okay?” he signaled.

  And Miklos realized that he’d probably heard about the kidnapping on the news by now. Probably everyone had. Which meant he would have to cover his face when he ventured outside. “I’m fine. She’s the one who needs help.”

  Luigi went out, then popped back in with a radio transmitter before leaving again. No phones up here. Miklos called in a message to the general on one of the military monitored frequencies. He passed on his current location and requested men to be dispatched to Maltmore Castle at once. He also asked the general to warn the princes immediately. Should anything happen, his brothers should be prepared.

  By the time he was finished, Luigi was coming back with a steaming pot of tea and lamb stew seasoned with herbs. He barely handed over the tray before rushing off again. Miklos locked the door behind him.

  He quickly removed his boots and ski suit, then started on Judi’s. “I’m going to get you warm. You’re safe now. Open your eyes.”

  He discarded the boots and socks and took her slim feet into his hands. He warmed them slowly, without rubbing. If ice crystals had formed in her blood and cells, rubbing would only do more damage.

  When some color returned to her skin, a good sign of blood moving to the extremities, no frostbite after all, he moved higher on her calves and massaged those to get the blood moving faster. He could only go so far before he had to remove her ski suit.

  “I’m going to take this off to make you more comfortable.”

  She showed no sign that she heard him.

  Worry ate at him, and anger that he’d gotten her into this. Fury built for the men who brought danger to his homeland, a peaceful country he loved more than life itself. Time was ticking. He would see to it that she was safe and in the care of the doctor. Then he’d go to his brothers.

  She had his military jacket under the ski suit, then that flimsy spring dress she’d arrived in. He removed everything save her underwear, shrugged out of his own clothes, then climbed into bed with her, piling the blankets on top of them.

  A hot bath would have helped, too, but that had to wait until she was conscious.

  “You need heat. I’m not trying to seduce you.” Then he added, out of habit, “Yet.”

  She was like a block of ice in his arms—albeit carved with perfect curves—but he was too worried about her to be distracted by them just now. He rubbed her arms, her back, pressed his cheeks to hers. Minutes passed, and she didn’t seem to warm at all.

  “Come on,” he whispered into her ear and rubbed her velvety skin, close to the edge of desperation. “Wake up. We made it. You’re safe.”

  That last bit was somewhat of an exaggeration, but he thought she could use hearing something positive. She didn’t stir.

  Maybe another approach would work better.

  “Have I mentioned that we have practically no clothes on? I’m taking liberties with you here. It’s time to start yelling.”

  Her eyes fluttered but didn’t open. He needed to raise the stakes.

  He pressed his cheek against hers again and whispered into her ear, “If you don’t tell me to stop, I’m going to kiss you again.”

  “You’re giving me whisker burns,” she said weakly. “Get off.”

  He pulled back and looked into her eyes, which were blinking to gain focus. Her cheek did look a little reddened where he had rested his own against it. He ran his fingers over his cheeks. Rough. But shaving was the least of his worries.

  “How are you feeling?”

  “Like I’ve been buried by an avalanche.” She flashed him a duh look, coming to life rapidly. “I’m perfe
ctly fine. I just needed to warm up and rest a little.”

  Encouraging. Looked as if she was getting her spirit back.

  “Can you move everything? Does anything hurt?”

  She pulled away from him, wiggled around then looked under the blankets. “Why am I naked?” She did sound quite a bit stronger.

  “We had to snuggle for heat.” He was regretting how brief that part had been.

  Her lavender eyes narrowed, her face flushed with outrage. “You took advantage of me while I was unconscious?” That was the old Judi. Wide awake and ready to charge at him.

  Gratitude hit him at first. They were safe. They were at the inn. She didn’t seem to have suffered permanent damage. But that overwhelming sense of relief lasted only seconds before awareness sharpened that they were in bed together, practically naked.

  They could fight.

  Or they could…

  He pulled her to him and rolled her under him in one smooth move, pinning her to the mattress. They were nose to nose. He needed to feel her that close, closer. He needed every inch of their bodies touching to know that she was safe and with him. “I haven’t taken anything yet.”

  Enough heat filled his body all of a sudden to keep the both of them warm in a snowbank.

  He caught a flicker of response in her eyes, but she said with forced severity, “You promised you wouldn’t kiss me again.”

  “I won’t. I’m thinking this time you’ll kiss me.” His gaze slipped to her lips that still didn’t have their full color back.

  Clearly they needed help.

  “Why should I?” She shifted under him, maybe to push him off, maybe to get more comfortable, but the end result was that now they were perfectly aligned, hip to hip, his legs between hers.

  “You’re very grateful that I saved your life.” He wished he could have come up with something snappier and brilliant instead, but his mind was too filled with Judi’s nearness to think.

  He could have lost her. They both could have been lost. Primal instinct pushed him to celebrate life in the most basic way.

  He ran a hand up her side, caressing her smooth skin. Her full breasts pressed into his chest.

  “It’s basic first aid.” He bent to nuzzle the sweet curve of her neck. “We have to get our blood moving.”

  “That’s the most pitiful pickup line I ever heard.” Her breath caught on the last word.

  His hand stole up her ribcage, stopped just under her breast. “Kiss me because you want me.”

  The look she flashed him was seeped in denial. She wasn’t going to make this easy. He should have known that. She hadn’t made anything easy from the second she had gotten off the plane.

  But need and urgency built between them. She had to feel it, too.

  He gave up the game and lined up their lips, leaving only a hairsbreadth between them. “Kiss me because I want you. You’re driving me crazy.”

  Her eyes went wide at his admission. Then the lids drifted down as she closed the negligible distance between them.

  Her lips were soft and warming to his quickly. She initiated the kiss, and he didn’t need any invitation beyond that. He tasted her, nibbling at the corner of her mouth, sweeping inside when at last she opened for him.

  He wanted her. He’d told her the truth. But it shocked him just how much he wanted her. Even if she didn’t want to marry him, even if she might not make the perfect princess. The thought stopped him. He had to marry the perfect princess—whoever could do the most good for his country. That was his duty. If after all this, Judi turned out not to be the right person for the job…

  Thinking of duty seemed impossible with Judi in his arms. He registered the danger in that, but plowed ahead nevertheless.

  Her palms came to rest against his chest. Their legs were entwined under the covers as he drank from her. He shifted, making them both more comfortable, his hands moving up to cover her breast at last. She arched into his palm. A groan of pleasure bubbled up in his throat.

  She was undoing him with unprecedented ease.

  Her body was perfect, made for his. He was hard and ready between her legs, the adrenaline of escaping down the mountain still pulsing through his veins, rapidly turning to raging lust.

  And she had such a tender look in her eyes.

  He caught himself on the edge of madness, inched back from the ledge, dropped to his back next to her on the mattress.

  He wasn’t used to tenderness. He’d had lovers, and there’d been sex. But he was always aware that they were with him because they wanted something either his wealth or title could give them.

  If Judi could have her way, she’d be running the opposite direction from him. The one woman he’d offered marriage to, and she’d turned him down without asking for a second to consider.

  She ran a light hand over his shoulder. There was that tenderness again.

  He knew how to handle lust. He didn’t know what to do with this strange rapport or connection or whatever seemed to have grown between them.

  “You should have something to eat and drink,” he said toward the ceiling, not trusting himself to look at her passion-flushed face.

  His body demanded that they finish what they’d started. His fingertips ached for the feel of her velvety skin. His mouth was parched for the taste of her. He could almost feel what it would be like to slide into her tight heat, to kiss her neck when she threw her head back in surrender, to swallow her moans as he made her his.

  Control and sanity. He had to reach pretty deep inside to find any remnants of them, but in the end, he did. He waited while she collected herself and wrapped a blanket around her body, scrambled off the bed to the table and the food.

  They probably should have gotten dressed, but he couldn’t bring himself to give up the pleasure of watching her like this. When the doctor got here, he’d just tell her to undress anyway, so he could examine her.

  The air around them vibrated with raw need. The heat of their encounter left both of them shaken. Her auburn hair was mussed from his raking fingers. Her lips were swollen from his kisses. She wouldn’t look at him.

  “Where are we?” she asked after a minute, her voice still not one hundred percent steady.

  “At the inn at the village of Vernesa.”

  “Have you called for help yet?”

  “I radioed. Cell phones don’t work up this high, and the place is too remote to be included in the telephone grid. The village doctor is on his way to check you out.” He sat up and began to pull his clothes on. “We’ll have the royal helicopter up here within the hour, with as many bodyguards as it can carry. You’ll be safe. Just stay put in this room and rest until then.”

  Saying the words was beyond awkward, since what he’d been on the brink of doing with her was the opposite of rest. But she was definitely a woman who spoke her mind, so if she wanted to berate him for it, he was sure she would do just that.

  So far, she hadn’t.

  He was starting to like her a lot more than he had ever expected. He’d been prepared to make the best of their marriage with or without mutual affection, had resolved to be the best husband to her that he was capable of being. The fact that he found himself enjoying her company was an unexpected bonus he was grateful for.

  “You know, aside from the circumstances, I like spending time with you,” he said as he dressed.

  “We’re not spending time together. We’re running for our lives,” she corrected with a peeved look.

  And he liked that especially. That she never treated him like he was some three-eyed curiosity people stared at, or a prize to be won. From the first moment, he’d been just some crazy guy to her. He loved the novelty.

  But he understood now that he’d taken the wrong approach with her back at the beginning. Considering the life she had lived until this point, of course she wouldn’t be overjoyed with the idea of an arranged marriage.

  “I’m sorry if I pushed. I mean before. And back there.” He glanced at the bed. “I feel like I’ve
always known you. I had the chancellor’s reports and the pictures and the expectations that eventually…” He had no idea how to finish that without sounding inexcusably stupid.

  “The expectation that we would eventually end up in bed?” She flashed him a droll look with one eyebrow sharply arched. But the flush in her cheeks told him that she wasn’t entirely unaffected by the thought.

  “I just mean—” What in hell did he mean? “I had a lot more time to get used to you, and the idea of the two of us together, than you did. And I tend to forget that.”

  She seemed to be waiting for something more from him.

  It probably wasn’t the admission that he still wanted her, even now, back in that bed, and not leaving it until at least spring thaw, which up here would be another month yet. Maybe Luigi could slide trays of food under the door.

  If only they were two regular people, in regular times.

  “Under different circumstances, maybe we could have dated,” he offered.

  “It wouldn’t have been a date. It would have been an evaluation of my suitability. You’re a prince.”

  He thought of the string of young ladies who were even now being “evaluated” for Arpad. She was right again.

  And he was more than aware that he was still only half-dressed and she wasn’t dressed at all, wrapped in a blanket. His body’s response was predictable: heat, heat and more heat. He buttoned his pants and reached for his shirt, shrugged into it.

  “At least I’m not a dodgy old prince,” he said, more to himself than to her.

  “Give it some time,” she told him dryly.

  He had half a mind to give her another way to occupy her smart mouth, but he enjoyed their verbal sparring as much as he enjoyed the physical connection between them. Almost as much.

  Someone knocked before he could respond.

  “Doctor’s here,” came a man’s voice through the thick panel of wood.

  Miklos was heading to the door when he happened to glance out the window and caught sight of a suspiciouslooking man loitering opposite the inn’s entrance, scanning people who were hurrying to get home for the night. The few people out in the biting wind rushed about their business, anxious to be back inside. This guy didn’t seem to be heading anywhere. There was a noticeable bulge in his coat pocket.