His Undercover Princess (Tempt Me) (10 page)

It was too much and not nearly enough. He couldn’t hold back anymore. Thrusting inside her and withdrawing with increasing fury, he lost himself in her. Again and again, he plunged forward and retreated to the sound of her mewls of pleasure that only made his balls tighten as he neared the point of no return.

“Elle, I can’t hold off much—”

“Come inside me, Dom,” she demanded. “I want to feel you spill into me.”

It only took one more stroke for him to bury himself balls deep in her warmth before he did, his orgasm crashing through him like a tsunami, washing away everything but Elle.

Rolling to the side before he collapsed on top of her, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. Neither of them said anything as they snuggled close. No doubt she was trying to make sense of what had just happened as much as he had. Nothing made sense anymore except for Elle, and that scared him more than any threat from the Fjende possibly could.

Chapter Twelve

Three hours later according to the digital clock, Elle stretched out in the empty bed and wished she could make time stop. Dom’s phone had rung a few minutes ago, and he’d apologized before taking the call in the library on the other side of that crazy
Scooby-Doo
hidden door. No doubt more business—that she’d have to pry out of him—about how to get her into the Kronig without tipping
off the Fjende. The man was damned frustrating with how under wraps he kept every bit of planning.

Still naked as she’d been when she’d had the best sex of her life a few hours ago—so good the glow of it clung to her skin—she got out of bed as quietly as possible and crept across the bedroom to the hidden door. It wasn’t closed all the way, letting through the conversation the other side. Straining to hear, she leaned close to the opening.

“She needs to know about you, sir.” Dom’s voice carried through the midafternoon quiet blanketing the chalet.

Since she was the only woman she’d seen at the chalet, Elle knew Dom had to be talking about her. She nudged the door open a few inches, thankful the well-oiled hinges didn’t make a sound.

“I understand your concerns, but I respectfully submit that your reasoning is faulty. She’s not the girl you knew anymore. She’s a strong, smart, practically fearless woman who will lead Elskov because she’s chosen to, not because of your cat and mouse games.”

Cat and mouse games? What the hell?

“King Magnuz, she
is
your daughter, and she deserves to know you’re alive.”

Whatever came after was drowned out in the white noise filling her head. Her father was alive. Her father. Was. Alive. And Dom knew. Judging by the familiarity with which he’d spoken with her father, he’d known the whole time. He’d said he wasn’t the Resistance’s leader, so that left one man who could be. Her father.

“I realize that, Your Highness, but it doesn’t change the facts,” Dom said, his tone icy. “If you don’t tell her, I will.”

“Too late.” She choked out the declaration through a throat tight with emotion. “She already knows.”

Dom whipped around, a red flush creeping across his face. Guilt? Remorse? Embarrassment? It didn’t matter. The kidnapping, the watching her from afar—she could understand that coming from a man who’d never known her and who was focused solely on the goal of taking back Elskov. But her own father? No. Strangely, Dom’s betrayal about her father being alive hurt just as much, if not more.

“Sir, she’s here. Would you like to—” His mouth formed a straight line and he disconnected the call. “Must have been cut off.”

“Really?” She snorted, emptiness settling in her belly, freezing all the fiery anger that no doubt would come later. “Sounded to me like he hung up on you.”

He took a step toward her, dressed only in the slacks he’d worn earlier and the desperate look of a man who’d fucked up but was going to give fixing things the old college try. “Elle—”

She held up her hand, warding him off. “Don’t bother. It doesn’t matter.”

“Yes, it does.” Dom closed the distance between them, stopping only when her palm pressed against his chest.

Touching him burned her, defrosted some of the coldness keeping her sane, but she fought against it. She’d been here before, on her own.

“Wrong,” she said, surprised at the hollow sound of her voice. “Does it change what I have to do next?”

“No.” He put his hand over hers, holding it tight enough that she could feel the unsteady
thump-thump-thumpity-thump
of his heartbeat.

“Because he’s not coming back to Elskov, is he?” She slid her hand free, doing her best to ignore her body’s protest at the removal of his heat.

“No.”

And there it was. It always came back to that. The goal for him, for her father, for the Resistance, had always been to get her back on the throne whether she wanted to be there or not. But her father had loved Elskov. She’d thought he’d given his life for it. It didn’t make sense for him to stay away now when they were so close to taking back the country from the Fjende…unless…her gut clenched.

“What’s wrong with him?”

The vein in Dom’s temple throbbed, and his jaw went rigid.

“Dammit, tell me!” Her shout exploded in the small space between them.

He sighed and looked away. When he returned his gaze to her face, there was only sympathy shining in his cool blue eyes. “The injuries from the attack—there were…complications. His body is rejecting the transplants one by one. The doctors don’t expect him to recover.”

It took all the strength she had not to give in to the shock and slide down the wall into a pool of goop at the news. She was mad enough to scream at him for days, but he was her father. Even now, even after everything, she loved him.

“How much time did they give him?”

“A matter of months.” He reached for her, but she brushed off his touch.

Understanding jolted her, connecting all of the events of the past week. “That’s why you came for me, isn’t it?” She lashed out, her anger finally spouting through her frozen core. “Not because of some outside threat, but because you needed a head of state to overthrow that farce of a government and my father couldn’t do it.”

“The Fjende is out there,” Dom snarled back. “They were looking for you.” He slammed his palm against the bookshelf door. “They
did
find you.”

“Why should I believe you?”

“Because you know I’m telling the truth.”

The laugh that spilled out of her was anything but joyful. “Just like I knew my father was dead? Just like I knew I was alone in the world? Just like I knew that someone would be waiting for me when my plane landed in America after the coup?”

“It’s not like that.” He blanched and looked deflated and so unlike the ultra-confident man he’d always been. “Not between us.”

“Funny, that’s what I thought, too.” She took a step back and brought her hand to the hidden door, ready to swing it shut. “Turns out I was wrong.”

“Where are you going?”

He probably thought she was running away, planning to start all over again with a new name and a new life. She’d done it before, she could do it again, but she wasn’t going to.

“To pack.” Her voice sounded so much steadier than she felt. “Unlike some people, I keep my word. I said I’d return to Elskov and knock the Fjende and their puppet off the throne, and I will.”

“We need to bring you up to speed on the details of what will happen at the Kronig.”

God, she couldn’t. Not with him. She wasn’t sure she’d make it another thirty seconds without breaking down. “I’m sure Major Bendtsen can do that. He does know the plan, or is that something you’re keeping to yourself?”

He stiffened, and a mask slid into place over his expressive features. Her Viking was gone. She didn’t know the man in his place. “I can fill him in, Your Highness.”

“Good.” She dipped her chin, barely managing to keep her bottom lip from trembling. “Then there’s no further reason for us to see each other again.”

She spun on the ball of her foot, head held high, and swung the hidden door shut, or at least tried to. Dom’s hand on the bookshelf stopped it.

“Elle.” Her name was a twisty bit of agony coming from him. “I’m so sorry.”

Pain clamped down on her chest, pinching her lungs and squeezing her heart. “Good-bye, Dom.”

His hand dropped to his side, and she closed the
Scooby-Doo
door. The ridiculousness of it gave rise to nearly hysterical giggles that she smothered down with the will of a woman who’d been emotionally eviscerated by the two men she’d ever loved.

…

Dom stalked through the greenhouse, the thick humidity natural in the glassed-in environment barely registering as he fought with the guilt and the frustration threatening to drag him down. He stopped at the indoor water feature that emptied into a koi pond and shoved the gnome’s red hat down with more force than necessary. The trickling water took a different path, revealing the door hiding behind it. Stepping through, he found Major Bendtsen at h
is usual post monitoring the wall of video screens showing the chalet and grounds from multiple angles.

“What time is your replacement scheduled to come on?”

The major kept his eyes on the screens. “Twenty minutes, sir.”

“Good. That gives us enough time for me to brief you on the plans once we arrive in Elskov.”

Now that got the other man’s attention. The major turned, his eyes wide. “I thought you wanted to hold off on that until right before the jet takes off.”

That had been the plan, to sit down with Elle and the major to outline exactly what would happen from the time their private jet touched down. He’d spent weeks thinking up every angle and circumventing every hurdle the Fjende would have in place. The Kronig was what he’d been working toward his whole life, but somehow it had become even more important to him that every move be controlled so that Elle would be kept as safe as possible. Right now, that was all that mattered to him.

“I need you to share the plan with Princess Eloise and ensure all of her questions and concerns are addressed.”

Bendtsen’s eyes got even wider before the normally taciturn major turned his attention back to the screens. “I see.” His eyes narrowed as he looked closer at the monitor showing the north gate.

Dom’s gaze went to the blank screen that normally would have shown Elle’s room. One quick flick of the switch and he could see her, watch her, pretend the last time he’d see her wasn’t going to be in a few hours. Even as mad as she was at him, she wasn’t half as mad as he was at himself. He shouldn’t have lied to her about her father. He knew how awful it was to lose a parent—hell, he’d lost both. If he were to find out tomorrow they were still alive and had hidden that from him, he’d go nuclear.

His hand was up and over the button to turn on the monitor showing Elle’s room before he even realized it. Then the light above one of the monitors started blinking, then another and another.

It took effort, but he spotted the men moving through the chalet’s grounds. Judging by their formation and weapons, they were highly trained Fjende guards.

“Fuck.” He clicked on the emergency comm line that went to the entire security team. “We’ve been breached. I repeat, we’ve been breached. Lethal force authorized.” Dom disconnected and spun around to face the major. “How the fuck did they get this far inside the line without anyone knowing?”

The other man’s fingers moved like lightning on the keyboard, and he brought up two video feeds of the same shot—one live with Fjende thugs exchanging fire with his team, the other showing the same scene minus the firefight.

“They hacked into our system and mirrored the feeds,” the major said.

That’s when the lights inside the security operations bunker dropped down to low-generator-power mode, signaling that automatic safety measures had been enacted.

Elle!

Dom rushed for the door and tried to yank it open. Nothing happened. Fuck. The security operations room had been designed like a panic room. In the event of a problem, no one got in and no one got out. The monitors still worked, but that didn’t make for two-way communication. The white intercom box above the screens caught his eye.

“Tap in to her room intercom, Bendtsen. I need to warn her.” Heart ramming against his rib cage, he flipped on her room monitor. She was there. He released the breath he’d been holding captive. Her eyes were wide and she was looking around; knowing her she was on the hunt for a weapon.

“Elle, I need you to get in your closet!” he yelled into the intercom mic. “There’s a panic room behind the back wall. Barricade yourself in.”

She grabbed a sharp, steel letter opener and slid it into the side of her knee-high boot. “What’s going on, Dom?”

“The Fjende. They’re here. Get in the panic room.” His voice shook as he mentally cursed himself for not being with her. “I will come for you.”

“Dom—”

“I will
always
come for you, Elle, but I need you to stick to the plan right now.” Closing his eyes for a second, he sent up a quick prayer thanking God she was still okay and begging that she’d stay that way. “And the plan is for you to get into the—”

The sound of shouting and glass breaking blasted through the intercom. The line went dead. He snapped open his eyes. Each monitor showed only white snow. The Fjende had managed to cut communications. There was nothing he could do to save her. No way for him to get to her and protect her. He had no control, not when it really fucking mattered. It was enough to make his hands shake. He hadn’t been this scared since his parents had gone missing. They’d ended up mutilated, their bodies dumped in a central square.

He clamped his jaw tight. That wasn’t going to happen to Elle.

He yanked out a chair and rolled up his sleeves as he sat down. He hadn’t earned his first million as a venture capitalist. No, the kitty money had come from a successful software program he’d created. The eight-inch-thick steel door was controlled by a locking program not linked to the chalet’s main power grid or its regular security features. Sometimes being a paranoid control freak paid off, and he was going to make sure this was just such a time.

Lowering his fingers to the keyboard, he let out a deep breath. The Fjende were out there coming after Elle, and the only thing standing between him and saving her was breaking the code to unlock the security headquarters’ door. He didn’t have time to waste.

…

Elle fought to keep from giving in to the blind terror scraping her from the inside out. The men had crashed through the French doors of her balcony. She’d jumped for cover and found a hiding space behind the massive walnut dressing table.

Her gaze darted around the room, counting the number of black-booted men searching through the large bedroom. The closet with its panic room was on the other side of the room. She peeked around the dressing table’s corner. No one was near the close
t door. Her pulse pounded in her ears, and her hands shook as she gauged the distance.

She had surprise on her side. If she could sprint fast enough, she just might be able to get inside the closet before they knew what was going on. Taking a deep breath, she readied herself for the mad dash of her life. That’s when a giant man stepped directly between her and the closet. Looking down, he smiled at her. It wasn’t a nice smile.