Her Prince's Secret Son (10 page)

Now, she rushed through the semidarkness, feeling the soft sea spray blowing in from the shore and the fine-grained sand against her feet. Aleks had turned to watch her approach.

He pulled her to him. She tiptoed up for a morning kiss.

“A princess risen from the sea to beguile me,” he said, his deep voice hushed against the backdrop of rushing waves.

Smiling, her head tilted up, she asked, “Are you beguiled?”

“Completely.”

The reply sent her soul soaring like the first waking seagulls. She, too, was beguiled.

He kissed her nose and then looped an arm around her waist drawing her to his side. They faced the sea and the eastern sky where the first tinges of pinks and grays heralded the coming sun. The moon turned to white and the last visible star clung to the fading night.

They were quiet for a while, absorbing the peaceful morning, content to be together. At least, Sara was content. If only there was a way to make things right so that she never had to leave this place. But the thought was useless. Even if the issues between Aleks and her were resolved, he was still a prince. And royals married royals, as his mother had so carefully pointed out.

A wave crashed against the shore, sending a mist over them. Sara drew back with a laugh, but crossed her arms against the coolness.

“You are cold?”

“No. I’m fine.” More than fine. Being here with Aleks in the breaking morning filled her with a sense of completion.
Here, there was no one to interfere. There was no painful past, no argument, no feelings of loathing, no prince and pauper. Here in the darkness, they were simply Aleks and Sara.

“You shouldn’t get chilled.”

“I’m not, Aleks. Truly.” The thought came that he might be trying to politely rid himself of her. “Unless you want me to go.”

Aleks shook his head. His arm tightened around her. “Stay.”

That one word warmed her as no blanket could. “I can see why you come to the beach at dawn. There’s a serenity here.”

“You feel it, too?”

“Yes, as though I belong to the sea. I feel like the grain of sand here on the shore, a mere speck in the universe, and yet, it takes all of us specks to make the world revolve. We are part of the sea, part of the universe, part of each other.”

He smiled down her. “Well said.”

He drew in a deep breath that lifted his chest and pressed his side closer to hers. She placed a palm over his heart, feeling the strong thud of a warrior’s heartbeat.

“What heavy thing is on your mind today, Prince Aleksandre?”

“Nothing heavy. The usual crises to thwart and decisions to be made.”

“You’re a good ruler, Aleks. Your countrymen adore you. When Antonia accompanied me into the city, tourists were spending money like crazy, the city is old-world gorgeous, and the Carvainian people seemed happy and thriving.”

“True. The city thrives, but not all of Carvainia is this modern and prosperous. Last year floods wiped out hundreds of farms and villages. I took Nico there.” She felt him tense. “I shouldn’t have.”

“Why do you say that? I’m sure he loved going with you.”

“He did, but it was there he took ill. Something he contracted from the floodwaters destroyed his liver.”

“Are you sure?”

“It was the only possible explanation.”

“And you feel guilty, as though you were to blame.”

“I was.”

“You want to know something I’m learning about blame, Aleks?”

“What?”

“It has no value. It solves no problems.”

He pondered for a bit before saying, “You’ve changed.”

“Older, more wrinkles, fatter?” She tossed her head, hoping to make him smile. “Maybe some cellulite?”

The effort succeeded. Aleks laughed softly. “Older, yes, but also wiser—” his voice became tender as his fingers found the nape of her neck and massaged “—and infinitely more beautiful.”

“Why, Mr. Prince, thank you. I’m flattered.” Though her insides danced happily, Sara responded with a playful flutter of her eyelashes, refusing to let herself hope that his words were anything more than flattery from a smooth, cosmopolitan prince with a silver tongue.

But Aleks’s expression had grown soft. His eyes caressed her face.

All the silliness fled. Sara swallowed, her tongue darting out to moisten dry lips. Aleks followed the action.

With the roar of the surf at his back and the wind whipping at her clothes, he groaned and slowly drew her closer. One hand in her hair, he tugged her head backward and pressed his lips to her throat. Sara shivered with sheer pleasure.

Aleks smiled against her skin. Then he worked his way to her waiting lips and kissed her with such tenderness she
wanted to weep. How could a man claim to hate her and still kiss like that?

She wished the moment would never end but, of course, it did. Aleks grasped her hand and said, “Come. Let’s walk awhile before the sun is up and the tourist boats come.”

Sara cast an anxious glance toward the sea. “Tourists boats pass by here?”

“All day, every day, except in the family’s private cove.”

Feeling exposed and self-conscious, Sara wondered what a newspaper would give for a photo of their prince kissing a stranger on the seashore. A stranger in her robe.

“We shouldn’t be together in plain sight like this. And you certainly shouldn’t be kissing me. What if someone snaps a photo?”

He lifted one elegant shoulder. “I long ago stopped worrying about the press. Carvainians are generally protective of their royals.”

“Tourists aren’t polite Carvainians.”

“Are you afraid to be photographed with me?”

“What a silly question. I would think it’s the other way around. I’m the outsider. I no more fit here than a pig belongs in a ballet.”

He chuckled. “I have something to ask you.”

She glanced at the lightening sky and then at the still-empty water. “The sun is coming up. Ask quick.”

“The crown is giving a Grand Ball this coming weekend.”

“Yes, I know and I’ll do my best to stay out of sight. Your mother mentioned it to me.”

“She did? I find that interesting.”

“Trust me, she wasn’t inviting me to attend.”

“She doesn’t have to. I am.”

She spun toward him so fast, her robe flared. “What?”

Aleks reached down, untied and retied the sash. After the bow was made, his hands lingered at her waist.

“
I
am hosting the affair. I would like you to attend as my guest.”

Her belly was already going crazy from his touch, but now it leaped into her throat. Was she hearing correctly?

“But Duchess Philamena will be there.”

Aleks loosened his hold on the belt to stare down at her, blinking, but he didn’t step back. “Philamena? What do you know of the duchess?”

Apparently more than you would like. “Your mother believes Duchess Philamena is perfect for you.”

“Perhaps. At least by Carvainian standards.”

Her stomach dropped. “Your mother believes the two of you will marry.”

He sighed and looked back toward the sky. “Yes, I know.”

She waited, hoping he would assure her that no other woman held his heart. He didn’t.

“Are you going to?” Please say no. Please say no.

He was silent for a moment, staring down at the white sand. When he answered, his voice was pensive. “I can’t say.”

It wasn’t the answer she wanted to hear.

Sara turned, leaving Aleks alone as she ran up the incline and back into the castle.

T
HE APRICOT ORCHIDS ARRIVED
at midmorning, approximately an hour after she’d left Nico’s playroom. The tender blossoms were accompanied by a vellum note embossed with the royal crest and seal. It said, “You will come to the Grand Ball. A.”

Sara kept the orchids but turned the note over and wrote “No, I won’t. S.” and sent it back with a rather stunned-looking deliveryman.

A dressmaker arrived an hour later with sample gowns and a measuring tape. Sara thanked her kindly and tried to send her away. The woman wept.

“Ma’am, you are cruel. I cannot refuse the prince. Think what this will do to my reputation. I will lose my position as dressmaker to the royal family.”

After a round of argument in which both Antonia and the dressmaker, Carlotta, insisted that Sara cooperate, if not for herself for the sake of the seamstress, Sara gave in.

“All right. You can make a dress, but I’m not wearing it.”

The woman broke out in sobs again.

Horrified, Sara recanted. “Never mind. Stop crying. I will wear the dress.” Under her breath she murmured, “But not to the Grand Ball.”

She had no idea why Aleks wanted her to attend the function, but she was certain it was not for the reasons that mattered to her. Maybe he was being kind because of their shared past. Maybe he needed to discourage pursuing females. Whatever the reason, Sara couldn’t go. The ball would only emphasize their differences and prove that a bookshop clerk from Kansas didn’t belong with the Prince of Carvainia.

Long before Queen Irena had driven the point home, Sara had known she didn’t fit in Aleks’s world. She once had in America, but not here. Here, he would kiss her in a dark dungeon or under a dark sky where no one in the world could see. In the next breath, he’d admit that a wealthy duchess could one day be his bride. Sara accepted that he wanted her as he had in America.

This time, desire was not enough.

By afternoon when the women finally departed, Sara was anxious to see them go. She wanted to be with her son. Regardless of dresses or balls or kisses on the beach, her time in Carvainia grew short. A lifetime wasn’t enough to spend with the child she’d given up at birth.

As she traversed the unusually empty corridor toward his rooms, she heard voices coming from inside an opened doorway.

“I want her released for travel immediately.” The queen’s precise, imperious command could not be mistaken.

Sara slowed, curious. The old adage that eavesdroppers never hear anything good about themselves came to mind. She started to hurry past, but Dr. Konstantine’s words stopped her.

“I am a physician, my queen, not a magician. I cannot make her body heal before its time.”

A prickle raised the hair on Sara’s arms. They were discussing her!

“She and the prince are becoming close again. She must leave before she finds out the truth.”

Sara’s pulse began to drum erratically. What truth? What were they talking about?

She glanced down the hallways to be sure no one was watching. Then she edged closer to the door, staying out of sight.

“Perhaps the truth would serve us all better, my queen. The secret weighs heavily on you. Your blood pressure—”

A hiss of disgust from Irena. “Forget about my blood pressure. The crown is at stake. The secret must remain here in the castle and she must go before both of them discover what I did.”

“All of your effort does not appear to have destroyed their feelings for one another.”

“I did what I had to do for Prince Aleksandre and for all of Carvainia. The woman is a commoner, Doctor. A common American.”

“Nonetheless, my queen, Prince Nico is her child.”

At the mention of her son, Sara’s heart pounded so hard, she feared the pair would hear it.

“The matter of Nico has been taken care of. Now you must do your part, Doctor. Get rid of Sara Presley.” The queen’s dismissive tone left no doubt that she’d issued an order and expected it to be followed.

At the sharp tap of heels against flooring, Sara jerked away from the door and made a dash for the stairwell. She pounded down the echoing steps to the next floor. A stitch pulled at her side. She stopped, breathless, panting, the ramifications of the overheard conversation swirling in her head.

What were they talking about? What had the queen done that she didn’t want Sara and Aleks to find out about? And what did she mean that the matter of Nico had been taken care of? Was the venom in the queen’s voice intended for Sara? Or for her son?

But queen Irena adored Nico. Didn’t she?

Mind reeling, Sara stood with one hand on the closed stairwell door until she stopped shaking and normal breathing returned. The fear that something was terribly amiss refused to go away.

Aleks was teaching Nico the chess pieces when it happened.

“Papa, I don’t want to play this.” Nico rubbed the back of his hand over his eyes.

The boy was tired. His energy wasn’t what it had been before the fateful trip to southern Carvainia. He was better, but far from his normal self. “Another time, then. The game will keep.”

Aleks began gathering up the hand-carved chess pieces, rubbing his fingers over the smooth surface. The set had been in his family for generations. His own father had taught him to play with these very pieces. Just touching them made him feel close to his mentor, his idol, his beloved parent. Someday Nico would also appreciate this small, but meaningful connection with the line of monarchs who’d come before him.

“Papa.”

“Hmm.” Aleks carefully placed the kings into the velvet-lined case.

“Where is Sara?”

Aleks tensed, a bit surprised by the question. This was perhaps one of the few times in the day he hadn’t been thinking about her. “I can’t say. Why?”

“She didn’t come. She always comes. I want her here.”

Aleks understood the sentiment. As hard as he fought against feeling anything for her, Sara had burrowed beneath his skin. Perhaps Mother was right. It was time for him to find a wife.

“You haven’t seen her today?” On the beach this morning
she’d become upset with something he’d said. He still didn’t know what he’d done but he suspected his invitation to the Grand Ball had offended her somehow. A mystery, for certain. So he’d sent flowers and a dressmaker. “She can’t be here every moment, son.”

“Why?”

“Sara is a guest. Soon she will go back to America.”

Nico’s face crumpled. “Why can’t she stay with us? Doesn’t she like us? She said I was a good boy.”

“I know for a fact that she likes you very much.” Aleks tapped the tiny nose.

“She likes you, too, Papa.”

He thought she did, but her affections could also be a ploy to gain custody of Nico. He didn’t understand why she had changed her mind. She’d given the child away and now she wanted him back.

But he’d watched her with the boy. Her tears over the photo album had been real. It had taken him a long time, but he was starting to believe she truly loved their son.

And if she truly loved the son, what of the father? Could that have also been true?

“Perhaps she likes us both, my son, but Sara has a life in America. She wants to go home.” Even as he spoke the words, he wondered if they were true. Sara’s talk of her life in Kansas was factual but held little passion.

“I don’t want her to go.” Nico’s bottom lip quivered.

“If we care about her, we can’t be selfish. We’ll want what’s best for her.”

His words mocked him. When had he wanted that? When had he ever considered what was best for Sara?

“Papa?”

“Yes?” By now, he’d lifted Nico onto his lap. The boy
curled into him, too-thin arms snaking around his neck. The balloon of joy that came only from Nico swelled inside Aleks.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

“Is it okay if I love Sara a little bit, too?”

Aleks breathed in the sweet fragrance of his son’s hair. “Love is magic. The more you give away, the more you have.”

“Okay. I’ll love her. She loves me. She told me when I was asleep. She kissed me, too.” Nico touched his forehead. “Right there.”

Aleks was at a loss for words, so he simply stroked Nico’s straight, black hair and held him. For the first time, he considered the emotional toll this trip to Carvainia must be taking on Sara. He’d wanted her to suffer for abandoning their son, for abandoning him, too. And his wish had been granted.

He’d expected to feel triumph. He felt like a jerk.

Closing his eyes, he rested his cheek on Nico’s head and tried not think so much about Sara Presley.

Nico’s breathing grew slow and deep.

They both must have dozed for Aleks was suddenly jarred awake by his son’s moans. Head fuzzy with images of Sara dancing through his dreams in a gauzy white gown, he felt the weight and heat of Nico against his chest. He tilted the child back into his arms.

“Nico, what’s wrong?”

Nico looked at him with scared, glazed eyes. Then the terrible retching began.

Sara was taking a sundress from the armoire when the door to her suite suddenly banged open.

“Sara, hurry.”

She spun around, arms instantly covering her state of undress, to find Aleks standing inside the room. He hadn’t even knocked.

She started to protest, but one look at his face froze the words in her throat. Beneath the usual swarthy complexion, Aleks was pale as sand, and the stark terror in his eyes shot adrenaline into her veins.

All concern about being seen in her underwear evaporated. “What’s wrong? It’s Nico, isn’t it?”

She knew even before his grim nod.

“He’s taken ill again. Dr. Konstantine is deeply concerned.”

“Oh, no.”

Hands shaking, she grabbed the closest dress and dropped it over her head. Aleks crossed the room and raised the zipper while she shoved her feet into sandals.

“He asked for you.” His breath brushed her neck.

“He did?” Had she not been so afraid, she would have rejoiced. But under the circumstances, her knees quaked.

“We’ve come so far. Nothing can go wrong now. He has to be all right.”

Aleks extended a hand. It trembled. Stomach knotting, Sara grabbed on and they rushed out, anxious to be with their sick child.

When they reached the medical floor where Nico had been taken, the news was not good.

“My concern is for the health of the new liver,” Dr. Konstantine said, his kind face particularly grave. “We’ve drawn blood to determine enzyme levels.”

Sara had heard the terms enough during the last few weeks to understand. Elevated enzymes indicated possible damage to the liver. If Nico’s transplanted organ failed, hope was gone. Her baby would die. She swallowed back a sob of agony. Histrionics would do no one any good.

“When will the results be known?” Aleks asked. The tension in his jaw was so tight, his lips barely moved. He was like a leashed tiger, ready to spring.

“I’ve ordered a rush on them but it will be hours at the least. Dr. Schlessinger is on his way from Switzerland now.”

“What can he do that you haven’t?”

“I can’t say, Your Majesty, but he is the specialist.”

“Is Nico awake? Can we go in?” Sara heard the fear and trembling in her voice.

“Of course.” The doctor bowed slightly to Aleks. “I’ve given him a mild sedative to ease the sickness. He will sleep.”

But Aleks was already tugging her through the doorway.

As too often had been the case, Prince Nico lay with eyes closed, looking fragile and ill. Thick black eyelashes brushed the crest of his cheeks. He was such a beautiful child.

A soft moan escaped Sara’s lips. “I hate this.”

Aleks said nothing, but he slid an arm around her waist and pulled her to his side. She was grateful, for she feared her legs would not hold her.

“What can we do?” she whispered.

“I wish I had the answer.”

She tilted her head toward the ruler of Carvainia, a man in charge of an entire country, who was every bit as helpless as she.

“This is not your fault,” she said. “Stop thinking about it.”

She didn’t know how she knew, but she did. Aleks would blame himself if the unthinkable occurred.

His gaze flicked down to hers and held. He swallowed, emotion emanating from him, though he kept himself in rigid check. “Thank you for that.”

In that moment Sara realized a fascinating truth about Prince Aleksandre. He was a facade, the outward presentation of the real man she knew. As prince he had a duty to appear strong at
all times. But the man inside hurt and struggled and felt just like everyone else. Only this man was alone in his pain.

Her heart reached out to him.

“Sometimes even a prince needs someone to lean on,” she whispered, touching his granite-hard jaw. “You can lean on me, Aleks.”

His eyes fell shut.

Sara wrapped both arms around his waist and rested her head against his chest. He engulfed her then, the trembling in his body matching hers.

They were like any other parents in the world, terrified for their dangerously ill child, and taking comfort in one another. In this space of time, they could forget their differences and focus on what really mattered—the health of their son.

And if the experience made her love them both even more, there was nothing at all she could do about it.

Three days crawled past in an agony of worry. Aleks canceled the Grand Ball and all but the absolute essential affairs of state. Neither he nor Sara slept much.

His mother was so upset she’d taken to her bed with another migraine. This worried Aleks, as well. The migraines had increased in frequency and intensity since Sara’s arrival. Mother had begged him to send “that American” away so that they all might live in peace again. Though he agreed in theory, Aleks could not bring himself to force Sara to leave until Nico was stable.

He seriously wondered if he could send her away at all. But that was a problem he would deal with later. Nico was his focus now.

Doctors came and went. Tests were run and read. The young prince neither worsened nor improved, and the physi
cians began to suspect something other than host-graft issues. More tests were ordered until Nico whimpered in dread whenever a nurse or doctor entered the room.