Day Leclaire’s The Royals Bundle Read online

  He found the cloth buttons holding her gown in place, and one by one released them. She lifted her arms, savoring the drag of flesh-warmed silk followed by the cool sweep of air. Her slip came next, skating down her hips to pool at her feet. He dropped to his knees, lifting first one foot free, then the other, leaving her standing in nothing but a bra and thong. Sliding his hands around her thighs, he held her steady as he trailed feather-light kisses from knee to thigh, wandering ever higher until he’d reached the shadowed apex.

  His breath was warm through the triangle of silk that concealed her. Hooking his fingers into the elastic band at her hips, he tugged. Her panties drifted downward, seeming to vanish of their own volition. And then he took her, his kiss the most intimate she’d ever received. She threw back her head and dug her fingers into his hair, her throat working frantically.

  “Easy, Princess,” Merrick murmured against her. “We have all the time in the world.”

  “Okay. Fine. I just—” She shuddered. “I need to finish getting naked. I need to finish getting naked right now. And then I need you naked on top of me. Or under. I’m not particular.”

  She felt his smile against her heated flesh. “I can help with that.”

  All of a sudden she didn’t want to savor each moment. She wanted to seize every last one, burn through each second in a swift, glorious blaze. She couldn’t handle slow, let alone leisurely. Fast and desperate appealed far more.

  “Hurry.” He slid his hands from her thighs upward, cupping her, and she practically danced in place. “No, I mean it. Hurry!”

  But he didn’t hurry. Instead, he parted her with his thumbs and blew ever so gently, a mere whisper of sensation before he kissed her again. And that was all it took. She exploded in his arms, unraveling helplessly. A keening wail built in her throat, trapped there for an endless moment before escaping. She hung, suspended in paradise until finally her knees gave out and she collapsed into his waiting arms.

  Merrick swept her up, carried her to the bed and spread her across a velvet-soft bedspread. “Why?” Alyssa demanded.

  He didn’t pretend to misunderstand. “It gave you pleasure.” His hand slid behind her back and released her bra. “And that gave me pleasure.”

  “In that case, prepare yourself,” she warned him as he tossed the scrap of silk outside the oasis of the bed. “Your pleasure quotient is about to go through the roof. I’m going to see to that.”

  Rising to her knees, she slid her arms around his neck and kissed him, a hard, urgent, open-mouthed kiss. To her amazement, desire flamed again, thrumming through her with stunning urgency. It was as though the past several minutes had never happened, as though this was the first time they’d touched, the first time they’d kissed, the first time they’d shared a moment of intimacy. She pressed closer and wrapped herself around him. It was like sliding into a pool of molten heat.

  Merrick groaned. “You’re killing me, Princess.”

  “I don’t want to kill you, not unless it’s to love you to death.”

  He tipped her onto her back. “I think I can live with that.”

  Her quick laugh must have provided him with a beacon to her mouth because he honed in on her parted lips with pinpoint accuracy. Sealing them with his own, he drank her in. First fast and needy, then slow and tender, before haste consumed them in a frantic burst of uncontrollable hunger. He snatched a final swift kiss and began sampling her as though she were a buffet of delicacies spread out for his tasting pleasure. Her shoulders. Her neck. Followed by the painfully sensitive tips of her breasts. He ignored her urgent pleas, feasted there while his hands took over, touching, probing, teasing, wallowing in a banquet of tactile indulgence.

  The tension grew within her again. Desperate. Demanding. Frenzied. An explosion building toward a new eruption. She shoved at his shoulders, forcing him to give ground. Stabbing her fingers into his hair, she pulled him back to her mouth, consumed him in one fierce, biting kiss before wriggling her hands between them. She found him, fully aroused, steel wrapped in velvet. Scissoring her legs around him, she pulled him inward. Took him. Absorbed him.

  Loved him.

  He surged to the very core of her, hard and heavy, almost painfully so. She could feel him trying to hold back, to ease his passage into her body and she arched, her muscles drawn taut.

  “Don’t stop.” The breath burned in and out of her lungs. “Even if it kills me. Even if it kills you. Just don’t ever stop.”

  He moved then, mating their bodies in a primal give and take, stroking to the harmony of their own private song. Fire burst all around them, flames licking at her skin, burning through her blood, gnawing at her bones. She could see the brilliance of it, hear its angry crackle, feel the heat exploding within. A scream built, clawing at her throat. She could sense the release approach, more powerful than anything she’d felt before. It slammed into her, the power of it smashing through every barrier. She flew apart, disintegrating into pieces so small they could never be gathered up again.

  From a great distance she heard a voice. The voice of her soul mate. “Alyssa.” That single word whispered through the air, barely audible. And yet, it did the impossible.

  It brought her home.

  Merrick woke to complete darkness, uncertain what had disturbed him. It only took an instant to realize what it was. His arms were empty and his bed cold. He sat up, searching the darkness for Alyssa.

  The curtains by the balcony stirred, alerting him to her whereabouts. Tossing aside the tangled sheet, he padded nude across the room. The French door to the balcony stood ajar and he stepped outside into the soft, dewy air. He found Alyssa there, leaning against the railing, the bathrobe she’d wrapped around herself fluttering in the breeze. She gazed out at the city where the full moon dipped low in the sky. Its silvery life’s blood flowed across Celestia, a river of light pouring across her homeland.

  He knew the instant she became aware of him. Without a word, she untied the robe and allowed it to slip off her shoulders. He came up behind her and slid his arms around her waist, tugging her close. Flesh slid against flesh, warm and vibrant and life-affirming. Alyssa twisted in his arms, grasping his shoulders. Cupping her bottom, he lifted her and in one easy thrust, sheathed himself in her heat. Turning, he braced her against the French door.

  Then slowly, ever so slowly, he moved with her to a rhythm only the two of them could hear. She arched in reaction, drawing his hands to her breasts, tilting her head back against the cool glass in silent ecstasy. The moonlight painted her with a loving brush, turning her skin luminescent. She glowed with an unearthly passion, a passion that pierced him to the soul. Consumed him. Threatened to destroy him. They clung to each other, riding to the edge, teetering there, poised on the brink of an endless fall. She gathered him up with moonlit eyes, before leaning in and pressing her lips to his ear.

  “You’re right,” she whispered. “One night’s not enough.”

  And then she exploded in his arms.

  Eight

  Merrick woke early the next morning. Pre-dawn light eased into the room, gilding his wife in a soft, rosy glow.

  His wife.

  Just the thought filled him with pure masculine possessiveness. Alyssa was his woman, joined to him in every way possible. When he’d first suggested marriage, it had been with the thought of forming an alliance. A contract. He’d wanted her, he couldn’t deny that. But it had been a purely physical want, nothing more. He’d intended for their wedding night to consummate their contract, to close all legal loopholes. Now he wasn’t as certain of his motivations.

  He closed his eyes. Damn. What was he going to do? Their relationship didn’t have a hope in hell of succeeding. Too many factors interfered. Little things such as he lived in Verdonia and she in the States. He’d abducted her and put her mother at risk. Most problematic of all, he was headed for prison, she for a new job in New York City. Not the most promising foundation for a successful marriage.

  The early morning light stre
ngthened, a warning that time was passing. As much as he hated the idea, he should leave. He’d made a promise to his wife, a promise to rescue her mother immediately after their marriage, and come hell or high water, he’d honor that promise.

  Yet as urgently as he needed to head out, he gave himself a few final minutes to study the sleeping face of his wife. From the first, he’d found her beauty startling. In an aesthetic sense, it was. But in the weeks he’d known her, he’d found her character even more beautiful, giving depth and dimension to the physical.

  He leaned over and kissed her, lingering, slipping within. She moaned, her mouth softening, parting, responding even in her sleep. Her eyes flickered opened, reflecting the sunlight, the color deepening to the sultry blue of a warm summer sky.

  “Good morning.” Dreams still clung to her voice, filling it with a delicious huskiness. “You’re awake early.”

  “Good morning, wife,” he greeted her with a slow smile. “Welcome to our first day of married life.”

  Unable to resist, he lowered his head and kissed her again. Cupping the nape of her neck, he nudged her into a deeper embrace. Her arms encircled him and after a long moment, she pulled back just long enough to look at him. He thought she was going to speak, but instead she slid her fingers into his hair and tugged his head back down to hers. He didn’t need any further encouragement. He gave in to her, gave everything. Not that he had any choice. Half measures weren’t part of his nature. But he was honor bound, bound to obligations he could no longer postpone.

  He swept unruly curls from her face. “It’s time for me to leave.”

  “Leave?” The hint of sleepy passion ebbed from her voice. “Where are we going?”

  “To Avernos.”

  “Avernos?”

  He didn’t know whether to laugh or groan at her look of utter bewilderment. He wished he could take credit for her having forgotten, that he could believe she’d been so enthralled by their lovemaking that it had driven every other thought from her head. But he knew the more likely cause was exhaustion. He hated to remind her, to put their relationship back onto a business footing, especially after the night of passion they’d shared.

  “Your mother, remember?” When she continued to stare blankly, he added, “Our bargain?”

  “Our—Oh, good Lord!” A deep blush blossomed across her cheekbones and she shot him a chagrined look. “One kiss and you drive every intelligent thought out of my head,” she admitted.

  Her embarrassed honesty had him fighting back a grin of sheer masculine delight. She had forgotten and it hadn’t been due to exhaustion. At least he could take comfort in that much when he left. “I’ve made arrangements for you to stay with some of my men. They’ll protect you while I’m gone.”

  It took a second for his words to sink in. The minute they did, she bolted upright in the bed. The sheet dropped to her waist, and she snatched it up again, tucking it beneath her arms.

  “You’re leaving without me? No way. I’m coming, too.”

  He shook his head before she’d even gotten the words out. “Too risky. It’ll be faster and easier for me to slip in, grab your mother and slip out again on my own.”

  “She won’t go with you unless I’m there,” Alyssa argued. “You’ll need me to convince her.”

  How should he phrase this? “I’ll convince her the same way I convinced you.”

  He should have chosen a more diplomatic way of wording his explanation, perhaps something in the nature of a flat-out lie. Rage lit her eyes. “You’re going to abduct my mother?” she demanded in disbelief. “You’re going to terrorize her the way you did me? That’s just great. Brilliant plan, Prince Charming.”

  He gritted his teeth. “I may not have any other choice.”

  “You can’t do that. She’s not like me. She doesn’t get angry in scary situations. She’ll be terrified.”

  “Only until I get her clear of the area.” Didn’t she understand? He’d been trained for this, damn it! He knew what he was doing. “I’ll explain everything to her then.”

  “Please, Merrick. Don’t do this. There’s only one of you. You’re one man against all of Prince Brandt’s forces. Against a royally ticked off Tolken, in case you’ve forgotten. And you’ll be abducting a struggling uncooperative woman who will be crying and screaming the entire way. Somehow I don’t think that’s going to work. Unless, of course, you plan on holding a knife to her throat.” Her eyes widened in sudden alarm. “Oh my God. Is that your plan? To use a knife on my mother?”

  Hell. Didn’t she know him better than that by now? “Of course it isn’t. If it’ll help satisfy you, I’ll arrange to bring a few men with me. But I still can’t risk taking you.”

  “Can’t risk…? And just what am I supposed to do when you’re captured?” she protested. “Spend the rest of my life hiding out with your men?”

  Morning had fully broken and brilliant light flooded through the window, washing over her. It struck her jeweled wedding band and splintered, shooting miniature rainbows of color in every direction. A conflicting combination of pleasure and sorrow surged through him. The ring looked right on her finger, as though it belonged. It was a declaration, a promise, a pledge for the future. His jaw firmed. A future they’d see together, no matter what it took.

  She stood, struggling to wrap herself in the length of soft Egyptian cotton sheet. “It only makes sense to bring me with you,” she argued as she worked the knot.

  Merrick snagged a pair of jeans from his overnight bag. “Maybe to you. Not to me.”

  “But we’re married.” She thrust a tumble of curls from her eyes. “There’s nothing Prince Brandt can do anymore. You’ve stopped him.”

  “You don’t know the man. There’s plenty von Folke can—and will—do.”

  She folded her arms across her chest and the knotted sheet slipped a tantalizing inch. “Then he can and he will, whether I’m with you or not.”

  “I can’t risk that. I can’t risk you,” he corrected.

  “Right back at you, husband.”

  Husband. She’d called him husband. He approached and grasped the ends of the loosened sheet. With quick, economical movements he retied it. “Lyssa. Princess.” He smiled. “Wife. You have to trust me.”

  “I do. It’s just—”

  “No, not just. No debate.” He cupped her face, forcing her to look at him. “Yes or no. Do you trust me?”

  Her mouth quivered. “You have no idea what you’re asking.”

  “I know precisely what I’m asking. And you haven’t answered my question.” He feathered a kiss across her mouth. “Listen to your heart. What does it tell you?”

  The answer he wanted hovered on her lips and glowed in the sudden softening of her eyes. The events of the life she’d shared with her mother had forced her to erect self-protective barriers, to regard others with deep suspicion. To distrust. But now those barriers trembled, their foundation shifting and he knew that he was close to breaching them.

  “Merrick—”

  His cell phone rang before Alyssa could say anything further. He was tempted to let it ring, to force her to answer his question. But only a limited number of people knew where they were. And they’d been told to contact him only in case of an emergency. He crossed the room and snatched up the receiver. “Montgomery.”

  “They’ve found you,” his man informed him, a hint of urgency underscoring his words. “Von Folke’s man, Tolken. He’s on his way to the safe house. Please, Your Highness, you must leave immediately.”

  “What? What’s happened?” Alyssa demanded the instant he cut the connection.

  “Tolken. He’s on his way here.” Merrick grabbed the overnight bag and dumped the contents onto the bed. “Get dressed. Fast.”

  She didn’t waste time talking. Ripping off the sheet, she started throwing on clothes. In less than a minute she was ready to go. Merrick spared precious extra seconds rolling up her wedding gown and stuffing it into the bag.

  “What are you doing?�
�� she asked. “We have to hurry.”

  “We’re not leaving your wedding dress.”

  “Sentiment?”

  He spared her a brief look. “Don’t get misty-eyed on me. I don’t want to leave any evidence behind of our marriage. No point in giving them an edge.” At her stricken look, he added. “Okay, so maybe there’s a little bit of sentiment involved. Grab your veil and head for the car. I need to clean out the study.”

  In under five minutes they were on the road and racing away from Glynith. He deliberately headed north toward Avernos, hoping Tolken would expect them to travel south to Verdon since it was Montgomery-controlled.

  “What now?” Alyssa asked.

  “I’ll arrange to rendezvous with one of my men and pick up the equipment I’ll need to rescue your mother. He’ll take you with him to another safe house. With a bit of luck your mother and I will join you there within twenty-four hours.”

  “Let me come with you.” She spoke urgently and he suspected tears weren’t far off. “I can help.”

  “No, you can’t.”

  A quick glance confirmed the tears—tears she seemed determined to keep from falling. “We’re married now, Merrick. If we approach Prince Brandt with that fact, maybe he’ll let us take Mom home without any hassle.”

  “I have no intention of approaching von Folke, let alone confronting him about our marriage. If I had my way we wouldn’t come within a hundred miles of the man.” He shot her a concerned look. “I’d keep you a solid thousand miles away, if I could.”

  She managed a smile, though he could tell it took an effort. She fell silent after that and two hours later they reached the rendezvous spot. To his frustration, his man wasn’t there. Nor did he answer his cell phone or show up in the three hours they sat and waited. Finally, Merrick started the engine.

  “Change of plan, Princess.”

  “I’m coming with you?”

  “You’re coming with me.”

  “What about the supplies you need?”

  “I know a place I can get them. But this worries me.”