The Prince She Had to Marry

by Christine Rimmer

  Once he had the fire properly managed, Alex showed her how to tend it. Then he said he wanted to spend the remaining hours of daylight exploring the perimeter of the island, laying messages and signal fires on the two other little beaches he’d seen from the top of the road.

  He wanted her to go with him. “We really ought to stick together,” he told her.

  “That’s not what you said this morning,” she reminded him.

  “This is different. I’ll be gone for hours.”

  “So? I’d rather stay here and spiff things up a bit.”

  “It’s quite spiffy enough for our purposes.”

  “Alex, it’s dusty. The floor needs sweeping.”

  He assumed a weary air. “I can’t watch out for you if I’m halfway across the island from you.”

  “There’s nothing here to endanger me.”

  “We can’t be certain of that.”

  “It’s the only house on the island. And no one’s been in it for weeks at least.”

  He gave her a long, exasperated look. “You’re certain about this? Most likely, I won’t return until dark.”

  “I will be fine.”

  “You have that whistle I gave you. Chances are, if you blow it good and hard, I’ll hear you.”

  “I have it and I know how to use it.”

  He kissed her goodbye. It was a satisfying kiss. A deep, lovely, tender kiss, like the one on the road that morning, like the one in the barn.

  Once he was gone, she got to work. It was rather fun, actually. She tied her dirty hair back with a plain red cotton scarf from the dressing room and then she took damp rags to all the dusty surfaces. She found a broom in the pantry and used it to sweep the wide plank floors—awkwardly at first, but she got better at it as she went along. She unrolled the mattress and made the bed.

  She even walked back up the road, the little goat trailing behind her, to pick a handful of lavender. Back in the house, she arranged the fragrant bouquet in the blue pitcher on the kitchen table.

  As the shadows lengthened and twilight grew near, she worried a little. It seemed Alex had been gone for so long.

  But then she told herself not to obsess. He was just being Alex, laying signal fires and messages written in driftwood on every open spot of land, exploring every last millimeter of the pretty little island.

  In the dressing room, she found a soft white cotton gown edged in frayed lace. It smelled like sunshine. She put it on and rinsed out her own salt-crusted clothes and draped them on the kitchen chairs to dry.

  After that, she wandered into the shadowed front room and stared out the window for a bit, gazing steadily at the road, waiting for Alex to appear. He didn’t.

  With a sigh, she turned from the window and went through the house, admiring her handiwork. It did look much cleaner and more inviting. There was a lot of satisfaction in strolling through a house one had cleaned oneself.

  She ended up in the small bathroom, where the footed cast-iron bathtub beckoned her. She turned on the faucets and let the water run clear—and hot. The AGA had done its job well. She put in the plug.

  It was still light out. She’d left the doors through the dressing room and into the bedroom ajar, so that even with the bathroom shutters closed, she could see well enough.

  But what was a nice soak in a hot bath without candles? She found two and lighted them and set them on the sink rim nearby. The white gown, she tossed on the straight chair a few meters from the tub. And then she climbed in. With a grateful sigh, she sank into the steaming water and reached for the lavender-scented bar of soap in the soap dish.

  * * *

  It was nearing sunset when Alex approached the house on the same road he and Lili had first traveled that morning. By then, he’d made a complete circle of the island, laying signal fires and driftwood messages as he went, ending at the cove where they’d come ashore that morning.

  He paused at the crest of the island’s highest hill and he stared down at the little group of red-roofed buildings below. In the deepening shadows, with the trees so close around the cluster of structures, he wouldn’t have been able to pick out the house if he hadn’t known it was there—although a good deep breath of the evening air would have had him scenting woodsmoke. And a closer look would have showed him that the smoke was coming from a chimney pipe down below.

  Eagerness urged him onward. He wanted to see Lili again. To watch those blue eyes light with welcome at the sight of him. But his contrary nature nagged at him, held him captive of his own regrets. He stood there unmoving at the top of the road.

  He was having altogether too good a time here on this tiny speck of land in the middle of the Adriatic, getting completely carried away over his much-too-enchanting wife. What he needed to do was crystal-clear to him. He should dial it back, redefine the boundaries he’d so carefully erected between them. He should reinforce the walls he’d spent most of his life building against her, re-create the distance he’d established so cruelly and completely when he sent her away after stealing her innocence that morning in April, when he refused to answer her calls or read her letter, when he manipulated her into marrying him and then walked away from her on their wedding night.

  But truly, she did astonish him.

  She was...altogether too good. Too forgiving. Too generous. Too willing to try again when most women would have completely given up on him.

  And she was tough as well. Resourceful. Determined. Responsible. And very clever. She was—he had to admit now, after a lifetime of trying to deny it—all the things he admired in a woman. In anyone.

  And here, alone with her, in a world that included just the two of them and one annoying little white goat, well, he saw too clearly her numerous wonderful qualities. More to the point, he couldn’t escape the central fact that she needed him here. She needed him and she carried his baby. And he couldn’t bear to be cruel to her, not here, where he was all she had.

  Eventually, they would be rescued, would find their way home, where everyone adored her and fell all over themselves vying for the chance to take care of her and the coming child. When they got home, it would be easier to back off, to return to his solitary ways, to go back to the man he really was: broken. Finished. With nothing left inside to give.

  This place, this time alone with her, it was all a fantasy. Like one of those love stories she so admired. It was a world apart. It wasn’t real. Here, he could almost believe himself a new man, a good man. It wasn’t so. But as long as they were stranded here, he would pretend for her sake. He would take good care of her and the unborn child. He would do his duty.

  He started down the road again, the road to Lili. He didn’t even realize that he was smiling as he went.

  Chapter Nine

  As he approached the house, Alex’s smile faded. He didn’t like what he saw.

  The front door was shut, but the windows to either side of it were open—and it was dark as the middle of the night in there. Not a glimmer of light. Surely she would have lit a few candles by now.

  Had something happened in there? Had someone come and taken her?

  Was she hurt—or unconscious?

  What was the matter with him? He’d forgotten all about the bump on her head. He should have realized that it might be worse than either of them had thought. She could be lying comatose in there in the dark right now.

  Fear for her hollowed out his belly, made the blood spurt hard and fast through his veins. He never should have allowed her to stay here at the house alone. And he’d been gone for hours, damn it.

  It had been a stupid, stupid thing to do. Just because she insisted on seeing the world through rose-colored glasses didn’t mean he had to let down his guard completely, to indulge her in her delusional certainty that most people were good-hearted and harmless, that she was completely recovered from a blow that had knocked her unconscious.

  He had quickened his pace. He was almost at the front step at a full-out run when he stopped dead in his tracks.

&
nbsp; Wait. No. Don’t be an idiot. Not now, not this time.

  No matter how much he needed to find her and find her fast, it wouldn’t do to barge in there without getting some idea of the possible danger. He wouldn’t be any good to her if he walked blindly into a trap. It would be Kabul all over again. The end of her, the same way letting down his guard in Kabul had eventually resulted in the end of Devon.

  And like Devon’s death, Lili’s end would be all his fault.

  He melted into the shadows at the side of the house. And then, while his racing heart hammered at him to hurry, to get to her and get to her now, he circled the building. Most of the windows were open—and all of the shutters, except the one to the small window in the bath.

  He saw not a glimmer of light from inside.

  When he reached the front again, he debated whether he should check the other buildings before going in, see if trouble waited in one of them.

  But no. He’d wasted enough time sneaking around the outside of the house, finding out exactly nothing in the process. Except that it was too damn dark in there and also way too quiet.

  Lili was almost never quiet. Unless she was sleeping.

  His galloping heart slowed a little as it occurred to him that she might have simply decided to take a nap. That made a good deal of sense, now that he thought about it.

  She had to be exhausted after all she’d been through.

  And he was acting like a nutcase, skulking in the shadows, dithering around out here.

  He was going in.

  The back door seemed a wiser choice, somehow, if there really was an ambush situation in progress here. A little less expected than his just barging in the front. Wasn’t it?

  Who knew? By then, he wasn’t sure of anything, except that he needed to find Lili, to reassure himself that she was breathing, all in one piece and not comatose.

  He slid around the corner and tiptoed toward the back door.

  “Maa, maa, maa...” Floppy ears bouncing, the white goat trotted toward him from the shadows by the barn.

  He froze by the side kitchen window and pulled his knife.

  “Maa, maaa, maa...”

  It would have given him enormous pleasure to slit the noisy creature’s throat.

  “Maa, maa, maa...”

  But if he did, Lili would never forgive him. So he waited until the animal got right up to him and he petted it a little and whispered, “Shh, shh.”

  The goat fell blessedly silent. It also pricked up its ears and tipped its head at him this way and that, as if trying to understand what he could possibly hope to accomplish, crouched in the shadows by the back door of the house.

  He might as well face it. With all the racket the goat had made, any possible element of surprise had now been thoroughly lost to him. He might as well just march up to the front door, shove it open and yell, Lili? Where in bloody hell are you?

  He was just about to do exactly that when the golden glow of a candle appeared in the kitchen window. He dropped to his ass on the ground.

  “Maa?” asked the goat.

  Lili stuck her head out the window and frowned down at him. “Alex? What are you doing out there with that goat?”

  He closed his eyes and counted to ten.

  “Alex?”

  “Maaa?”

  He pushed himself upright. “It’s a long story.” The candle lit up her face, made her look like an angel, sweet and otherworldly, pure beyond bearing. The scent of her drifted to him, clean. Fresh. Hinting of lavender. He spoke around the sudden lump in his throat. “You’ve had a bath.”

  “I have. Envious?”

  “Green with it.”

  “Well, come in, then. You can have one yourself.”

  * * *

  She was standing in the open doorway when he went up the steps to go in, holding the fat candle, dressed in a white nightgown she must have found in the dressing room, with a fringed blue shawl around her shoulders. “You were gone forever. It has to be well after nine.”

  “It’s almost ten.” Back the way he had come, the last gleam of orange had vanished from the horizon. Days were long in the Adriatic summer. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have taken so long.”

  “Well,” she said with a shrug, “you’re here and safe. That’s what matters.” She stepped aside so he could enter. “I’ll go and fill the tub. Would you light more candles?”

  He made a sound of agreement—and caught her shoulder before she could turn for the bathroom. “Lili...”

  She stopped, tipped up her impossibly beautiful face to him. Smiled. “Hmm?”

  His arms ached to hold her, but he was covered in salt grime and he smelled of a day’s worth of clambering over limestone outcroppings, hauling wood and setting signal fires. He’d only get her dirty all over again.

  Plus, he’d already given in to kissing her more than once that day. If he didn’t watch himself, he’d be indulging in a lot more than kissing—or at least, he’d be putting moves on her in hopes of indulging in a lot more than kissing.

  He wouldn’t blame her in the least if she turned him down flat. He deserved to be turned down flat.

  But she was a generous, big-hearted woman and whenever he kissed her, she forgave him all over again for all his transgressions against her. She forgave him....

  And she kissed him back in such a way that he had a very strong feeling she would not be averse to indulging in a whole lot more than kissing. And as each hour passed since they had left the Princess Royale, he was finding it harder and harder to remember exactly why they shouldn’t indulge in a whole lot more than kissing.

  After all, she was his wife. And while they were stranded here, he’d set himself the not-the-least-difficult task of making the experience as painless as possible for her, of being kind and gentle to her. Of treating her with tenderness, the way he couldn’t afford to do in the “real” world.

  And they certainly didn’t have to worry about an unexpected pregnancy. The goat was out of the barn on that issue.

  “Alex?” She reached up, caressed his beard-scratchy face in the sweetest, most affectionate way. “What is it?”

  He coughed to clear the tightness from his throat and steeled himself not to grab that little hand and shower kisses upon it. “Nothing. More candles? I’ll get them....”

  * * *

  He took off his clothes and left them where they fell. They couldn’t get much dirtier than they already were.

  The tub was small, but the water was wonderfully hot. Lili had left him a towel on the chair and four candles, two on the sink and two on the little cabinet by the door to the walk-through dressing room. There was lavender-scented homemade soap and a loofah. He got to work scrubbing off the grime.

  When he was done, he shut his eyes, allowed his head to fall back. The water grew cool around him and images of Lili filled his mind. He must have dropped off to sleep because he woke to the touch of her hand on his shoulder.

  “Lili...” He opened his eyes and the room was soft with golden candlelight. He had been dreaming of her. At least, with his knees up practically around his ears, she couldn’t see what was going on under the water, couldn’t see how much he ached for her.

  For her soft, smooth little body, her luscious, willing mouth. For everything he wished they could have.

  For everything they would never have.

  She was behind him, a small, soft hand on either shoulder now. “Just came to check on you.” She rubbed, working the knotted muscles. Her hands were stronger than they looked. He couldn’t hold back a low moan of pleasure as she massaged the tension and tiredness away. “I wanted to be sure you hadn’t drowned....” Her breath teased his ear.

  “I fell asleep,” he gruffly confessed.

  “Not surprising. It’s been a long, long day.”

  Water sloshed as he sat up and bent his head. “To the left a little...there. Yes. Right...there....”

  “Did you explore the whole island?”

  “Pretty close.”
r />   “Got a signal fire set on every smallest hint of beach?”

  “Yes, I did. And I saw another boat. But it got away like that cruise ship. I signaled it with the mirror and used another flare and cursed the fact that I’d yet to lay a signal fire on the beach where I was standing. I watched as it got smaller and smaller until it vanished over the horizon.”

  “It’s all right,” she said.

  “No, it’s not.”

  “Alex, they’ll find us.”

  “I know.” He rolled his lowered head from side to side as she kept on rubbing at the muscles of his upper back, easing the tension away to nothing. Now, with her hands on him, in the soft candlelight, just the two of them, he could almost wish they might never be found. That it could be just him and Lili indefinitely. He could almost wish that no one would ever come for them, that the candles and the canned goods could last forever.

  Just the two of them—and their baby, too, later—stranded together in the cozy stone house, where he was someone different, someone better. Someone happy. Where the unforgivable sins of the past could never find him.

  Her lips brushed the side of his neck, leaving the sweetest heat, a burning so good he couldn’t breathe for a moment. She whispered, “Sometimes I wish...”

  He moved his shoulders under her rubbing hands, enjoying the pressure, the pain that loosened, eased, morphed into pleasure. “You wish what?”

  “That we would never ever be found. That we could just stay here, you and me, in this sweet little house, on this perfect little island.”

  It was so exactly what he’d been thinking, he almost agreed with her automatically. But he caught himself in time. “No, you have a whole country to rule one day. And a father who loves you...” And his sisters and brothers, his mother and father. They all adored her. Everyone adored Lili. She was that kind of person. Lovable. Good.

  “I know,” she said so softly with a tender edge of regret. “And your family, how they would suffer to lose you all over again. And then there’s the baby.”

  “Mustn’t forget the baby,” he agreed.