Day Leclaire’s The Royals Bundle Page 8

  He poured himself a final glass of wine and carried it out to the front porch to William’s rocker. His “thinking chair” as he’d often referred to it. Sipping the wine, Merrick allowed the minutes to ease by. The consequences of his actions weighed heavily, the potential outcomes haunting him. He’d forsaken all he’d held dear, all he’d spent a lifetime creating. Had he made the right decision? Was his purpose just and honorable? Or had he subconsciously allowed personal aspirations to guide his choices?

  After two full hours of contemplation, he still didn’t have an answer. Giving it up as a lost cause, he returned to the bedroom, groping his way in the dark. After a quick shower, he climbed into bed. If he’d been any sort of a gentleman, he’d have left Alyssa alone. But he couldn’t. He needed her. He slid an arm beneath her and tucked her close. He heard her breath sigh into the night as she settled into his embrace.

  “I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I didn’t intend for you to lose your job or to put your mother in harm’s way. If I could change any of it, I would.”

  “You can change it. You choose not to.”

  He couldn’t deny the accusation. “True. Will they hold your job for you?”

  “Doubtful. Not for four months.” She spoke dispassionately, but he heard the underlying ripple of pain and anger.

  “The outcome would have been the same even if I hadn’t abducted you. You realize that, don’t you?” She stilled in his arms. Apparently that hadn’t occurred to her. He gave her the hard, cold truth—at least the truth as he saw it. “If I hadn’t interfered you’d now be married to von Folke and your job would still have been sacrificed. This way you’ll be free in four months, free to return home and pursue your career once again. I suspect von Folke would have kept you tied to him for a year or two. Possibly longer.”

  “I…I hadn’t thought of that.” She fell silent for a long moment. “I don’t know what I’m going to do…after.”

  “You could stay in Verdonia.”

  Her laugh held a bitter edge. “Pretend to be Princess Alyssa, duchess of Celestia?”

  “You are Princess Alyssa, duchess of Celestia. You have degrees in psychology and business administration, with experience in international finance. Your education is tailor-made for the position,” he argued.

  “I don’t belong here.”

  “You could.”

  She fell silent for a long time. Then, “Was he your friend?”

  The switch in topic caught him by surprise. “Who?” But he already knew.

  “Tolken. You sounded…” She paused to consider. “You sounded familiar with each other. More than familiar. Friends. No, more like friends turned enemies.”

  She continued to amaze him with her insight. “Yes, he was my friend. He was my best friend.”

  “Until yesterday?”

  He exhaled. “Until I put my hands on you. The friendship ended in that moment.”

  “So much sacrificed by so many,” she murmured.

  He found the reminder tortuous. “Sleep, Princess. Tomorrow’s a long day.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “We need to keep moving. But at least you’ll see more of your land.”

  She twisted within his arms. “Not my land.”

  “Deny it if you will. But you belong to Celestia every bit as much as she belongs to you.”

  “And who do you belong to?”

  “No one. Nothing. At least, not anymore.”

  It was a painful truth to face. Though his roots sank deep into the rich Verdonian soil, they didn’t run deep enough to survive this. Von Folke would see to it that he paid dearly for his actions. At the very least, he’d be expelled from Verdonia, a pariah to his people. More likely he’d be imprisoned.

  “What will you do?” she asked.

  “Finish what I started.”

  “And then?”

  “Face the consequences.” After all, he had no other choice. Not anymore.

  The next day, Merrick made tracks southward toward Glynith, the capital city of Celestia. He had to work hard to maintain a low profile. He was a public figure and easily recognized. But either Alyssa didn’t pick up on the deference they offered him or she put it down to his being the commander of the Royal Security Force.

  He’d arranged for several safe houses, though the first they headed for wasn’t far from the Celestian capital. He’d debated just driving up into the hills and staying at the anonymous cabin he’d rented there. But he preferred a place that offered more avenues of escape while he waited for von Folke’s next move.

  He soon discovered that the worst part of the abduction wasn’t the wait, but the endless nights. How he ever thought he could spend four full months sleeping with Alyssa, wrapped so tightly together that every luscious inch of her body was pressed against every hard-as-tempered-steel inch of him, he didn’t know. After just one week exhaustion rode him almost as hard as shameless desire. Not that she noticed.

  The instant he crawled into bed with her and tugged her close, she fell into a deep, abandoned sleep, accepting his embrace as though they belonged in each other’s arms. It was almost as if they were two parts of a whole, separate and adrift from dawn until dusk, complete only at night, where within the velvety darkness it felt safe to express emotions they kept well hidden in the harshness of daylight.

  To his relief, she didn’t follow through on her threat to take off the first chance that presented itself, not that he gave her the opportunity. He guarded her every second of every day. But by the end of their eighth day together, Merrick was sick of staring at the four walls of their rooms and twitching from the effort of keeping his hands off Alyssa, neither of which boded well for the endless weeks ahead of them. She must have felt something similar, because when he suggested a short excursion through the capital city, she leaped at the offer, promising the world in exchange for the chance to be outside.

  Driving through the busy streets of Glynith, he pointed out key landmarks, including the royal residence. “Not as impressive as the one in Verdon or Avernos,” he observed. “But it serves its purpose.”

  “It’s huge,” she replied faintly. “It’s so strange to think that my mother once lived there.”

  He regarded her in amusement. “So did you.”

  “And I had a father and a brother I can’t even remember. I wish…” She swiveled in her seat. “Did you know them? What were they like?”

  “I never met your father, but he was considered a good man, committed to Celestia and her people. He came from farm stock, like my grandparents, and loved the land.”

  Bittersweet emotion swept across her expression. “And my brother?”

  “Also a good man. I find it hard to believe that he’d have taken money to abdicate. Perhaps von Folke brought other pressures to bear.”

  “I can’t imagine living your entire life in one place.” And yet, he heard an intense longing quivering in her voice. How different would her life have been if she’d grown up here? Had put down roots here? Did she ever wonder? “What about Miri? Has there been any news?”

  His mouth compressed. “None. Tolk doesn’t have her or he’d have said something when he found us.”

  “But you can’t be sure.”

  “He wouldn’t harm Miri.” There wasn’t a shred of doubt in his mind. “But, the few times I’ve called home, no one’s heard from her.”

  And the fear and concern were tearing him apart. What had Alyssa said about so much sacrificed by so many? Here was another sacrifice—one laid firmly at his feet. His noble intentions seemed far less noble all of the sudden. He had so many to protect, so much at stake—more than his future, or Alyssa’s new job, or even the safety of Miri and Angela Barstow. There was an entire country to consider. And until he found out what secret von Folke concealed and why he’d become so desperate to gain the throne, Merrick had to put the welfare of the country ahead of the few. He’d put out feelers, but so far he hadn’t discovered anything pertinent.

  Neither of
them wanted to return to their rooms after the drive and Merrick decided to take one more risk and allow them a brief walk through one of the commercial sections near their apartment. A local jewelers window held Alyssa’s attention the longest, and she returned a second time on their way back to their rental.

  “My favorite is this one.” Alyssa pointed to a deep purplish-blue amethyst with flashes of brilliant red at its center.

  Merrick smiled. “You have excellent taste. That particular stone is called a Verdonia Royal. The color is unique to our country and quite rare, like a Siberian amethyst, only with more blue than red. The most common are these ones,” he said and indicated a pinkish-lavender stone. “The Celestia Blush. Outside of Verdonia this color is often called a ‘Rose de France’ but our name has historic significance, so we tend to use it rather than the other.”

  “And this ring?” She pointed to the centerpiece of the display. “I love it.”

  They’d caught the eye of the proprietor who waved them in. Before Merrick could stop her, Alyssa opened the door and entered the shop. Hell. Adjusting his sunglasses, he settled the American-styled ball cap he’d recently acquired lower on his forehead and prayed he looked as much like a tourist as Alyssa. Then, he followed her in.

  It was too much to hope that the store owner wouldn’t recognize him, but the instant he did, Merrick gave a single shake of his head without alerting Alyssa. The owner, a man named Marston, nodded in silent understanding, clearly willing to cooperate if Merrick wished to remain anonymous. Satisfied, he leaned against a nearby counter and watched the two interact.

  “Every once in a while the mines cough up a few of the Royals,” Marston explained as he slid the ring on Alyssa’s finger. It fit perfectly. “They’re highly prized and only used in the best pieces. Like this ring.”

  “It’s beautiful. Is this white gold or platinum?”

  “The ring is platinum.” He spared Merrick a brief glance and after receiving a nod, rolled into a more fulsome description. “The antique Edwardian setting features a three carat Royal as its center stone and a blue diamond and Blush on either side, each perfectly balanced, and weighing in at 2.1 carats apiece. The broad gallery is bead set with .44 carats of European cut diamonds. Finished with fully mille grained edges, the pierced openwork gives this ring an unsurpassed elegance.” He blinked up at Alyssa through wire-rimmed glasses. “Would you like to know what the ring says?”

  Alyssa lifted an eyebrow. “The ring says something? Tell me. I’d love to know.”

  “Our finest pieces are always designed to express a particular sentiment. In this case, the Verdonia Royal symbolizes the union of soul mates. Aside from the unique color, that’s why it’s so highly prized and so rare. It’s considered very bad luck to give or accept one if it’s not for true love. But this ring also has a diamond and a Blush. The diamond represents many different things, but mainly strength, love, and eternity. As for the Blush, it was used in olden days to seal agreements and contracts.” He pointed to the pattern formed by the pierced openwork of the ring. “And then, see this?”

  Alyssa examined the banding more closely. “Why does that pattern seem so familiar?”

  Merrick took a look and smiled. “Because it’s the shape of Celestia. Historically, Celestia has always been the fulcrum between Verdon and Avernos, unifying the two opposing forces into one country.”

  Alyssa exclaimed in delight. “So, the pattern represents the unification of the three separate stones into one, right?”

  Marston nodded. “Very astute. The designer named it Fairytale because that’s what the ring is. It’s a fairy tale with a happily-ever-after ending all in one. Soul mates united in an unbreakable bond of eternal love. That’s what it means.”

  “It’s an incredible piece,” Alyssa marveled. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything like it.”

  Marston grimaced. “Unfortunately we haven’t been able to purchase any stones of this caliber for years. Even the Blushes have become rare. The problem has grown worse over the last few months. Rumor has it that the amethyst supply is drying up.” He threw Merrick a hopeful look. “Perhaps you could shed some light on the source of the problem? Are the mines played out, as some have suggested? Or is it simply a means to drive the international price up by creating an artificial shortage?”

  Merrick shook his head. “I can’t answer that. I wish I could. But I can assure you that we’re aware of the problem and it’s being looked into very carefully.”

  A small sound came from the doorway between the retail section of the shop and the back room. An older woman stood there, wide-eyed. “Your Highness,” she said with a gasp and swept him a deep curtsey. “We’re honored to have you in our store.”

  Alyssa stiffened. “Your Highness?” she repeated sharply.

  The woman offered an understanding smile. “I can tell from your accent that you’re an American, so perhaps you don’t recognize His Highness. This is Prince Merrick.”

  “No.” Alyssa took a swift step backward. “He’s commander of Verdonia’s Royal Security Force.”

  The woman nodded. “That’s right. The commander is Prince Merrick Montgomery. His older brother, Prince Lander, could very well be our next king.” Her gaze flitted back and forth between the two and a hint of uncertainty crept into her voice. “I’m sorry. Have I said something wrong?”

  “I believe His Highness is incognito, my dear,” Marston explained gently.

  Before the woman could do more than stammer out an apology, Alyssa slipped the ring from her finger and carefully returned it to the velvet tray. Then turning on her heel, she darted from the store.

  Six

  Alyssa flew out of the jewelry shop and down the street that led deeper into the commercial district. Instinct was driving her and she simply acted, determined to get as far away from Merrick as quickly as possible. To lose herself in the twisting jumble of avenues that spidered out in all directions.

  She’d been deceived. Merrick had deceived her. The thought echoed the painful tattooing of her heart and pounding beat of her racing footsteps. That woman had called him “Your Highness.” She’d said that Merrick was a Montgomery, that he and Prince Lander were brothers. And who just happened to be Prince Brandt von Folke’s rival for the throne of Verdonia? Prince Lander.

  All Merrick’s fine talk about wanting the best for his country had been nothing but a lie. Everything he’d done had been to benefit his brother. He’d had an ulterior motive for preventing her marriage, right from the start. If she’d gone through with the wedding, Celestia and Avernos would have voted for Prince Brandt and he’d be king. By stopping the ceremony, Merrick’s brother still had a shot at the throne. So much for the better good of Verdonia. More like the better good of the Montgomerys.

  She kept up a rapid jog, taking turns at random, forced to slow to a brisk walk when she developed a stitch in her side. The breath heaved in and out of her lungs. How could she have been so stupid? She’d seen the respect with which people treated Merrick. Had caught the casual familiarity with which he referred to Prince Brandt. His air of authority. The way von Folke’s men had reacted to him. It simply hadn’t occurred to her that it was anything more than the appropriate deference offered to the commander of the Royal Security Force. Now that she knew better, she needed to get away.

  Ahead of her she saw a uniformed officer. Was he the local authority? If so, perhaps he could help her reach the American embassy. Before she’d taken more than a single step in his direction, a heavy arm encircled her waist, yanking her against a hard, masculine body—a very familiar hard, masculine body. At the same time a hand whipped across her mouth, cutting off her incipient shriek.

  “Not a word,” Merrick murmured close to her ear.

  He pulled her backward into a pitch-black alleyway. Up ahead the officer paused to speak to someone, and when the man turned his face into the glow from an overhead streetlight, she realized it was Tolken. She stiffened within Merrick’s hold.


  “I see you recognize our friend.” Merrick’s voice was a mere whisper of sound. “It appears Tolk’s given up tiptoeing and is being a little more aggressive in his search. That tells me it’s time for us to find a new hiding place.” His grasp tightened. “Pay attention, Princess. When I tell you to move, you move. Nod if you understand and agree.”

  A tear escaped before she could prevent it, plopping onto the hand he kept locked over her mouth. His reaction to that single drop of moisture was subtle, but confined within such a close embrace, she felt him stiffen and heard the slight hiss of breath escaping his lungs. It sounded like a sigh of regret. No sooner had the thought entered her head than she rejected it. No. That wasn’t possible. People as ruthless as Merrick didn’t experience regret.

  “You haven’t responded, Princess. I’d hate to do this the hard way. Now, will you obey me?”

  She nodded in agreement, yet even then, his hold didn’t slacken. He maneuvered them backward, deeper into the alley. How he could see, she didn’t have a clue. But somehow he managed to avoid the obstacles blocking their path. A few yards further on they reached the opposite end of the alley, which opened onto a dimly lit side street.

  “I’m going to uncover your mouth. If you make a single sound, I promise you’ll regret it. When I release you, we’re going to head back to where I parked the car. We maintain a brisk pace. We walk with purpose, but don’t run. Two lovers eager to return home. Clear?”

  She nodded again and he removed his hand, ready to silence her again if she so much as breathed wrong. When she simply stood there, he tucked her distinctive hair beneath her blouse and lifted the collar. Sliding his arm from her waist to her shoulders, he tucked her close against him so she was almost concealed from curious eyes and urged her onto the sidewalk. He kept to back streets, emerging close to the jewelry shop. Another block and they reached the parking lot where he’d left the car. The entire way she didn’t dare make a sound. But the instant she’d slipped into the passenger seat, she turned on him.