MAID FOR A PRINCE: (Book 1) (Point St. Claire, where true love finds a way) (3 page)

With boulders dropping and barely missing their heads, Helene held on as the prince bundled her in the sling of his arms and shuffled away from the chamber’s exit. When an almighty crack ripped out overhead and an even heavier rain of rock fell, dust plumed and all light was snuffed out.

They were trapped in the dark, cut off.

Alone.

After what seemed like an eternity, the sky stopped falling, and deafening silence crept in. Helene felt numb. Hands. Heart. Brain. She tried to scan the scene but the world had turned black. The air was clogged with dust and stirred-up moss that stuck in her nose and throat. She hacked and coughed. When she’d finally settled, Vasily set her down. Neither one spoke. Helene guessed he was listening for creaking—noises that might lead to another cave-in. But the only sounds were the echoing trickle of water and her own ragged breathing.

His deep steady voice drifted over. “Are you all right?”

When his big hand found hers and squeezed, she exhaled and squeezed back. “This is bad, isn’t it?”

He grunted and his fingers slipped away from hers. Then she heard a sizzle and a small flash went off. The scent of sulfur permeated the air and swirls of yellow-blue flame appeared before Darius Vasily’s smudged face. He was holding a torch  plucked straight out of the middle ages.

“Where’d you get that?” she asked.

“Torches line this chamber’s walls. Matches are always kept on the ledge.” Slipping a box into a pants pocket, he stopped to study the figurine from head to toe, back and front. “She’s still in one piece.”

Helene slumped. With all due respect, she felt that was the least of their worries.

“A person can survive without food for a time,” she said, “but what about water?” Then she remembered. “When Alexio gets here and can’t find anyone, he’ll send out the alert.”

In the flickering light, she read his bleak look. If they could be dug out at all, it could take days. Or weeks. 

Finding her hand again, he led her between chunks of rock to the far wall. He gave a simple instruction. “Sit.”

He meant on the cold rocky floor? “Thanks. I’ll stand for a while.”

In a halo of torchlight, she watched him find a seat and get settled. “It’s soft,” he said, “if that makes a difference.”

She made out some cushions fringed with gold brocade.
What the―?
“This cave is furnished?”

“Just this ledge.” He leaned back. “A small comfort during times of meditation.”

She joined him. After setting her sandals down beside her and brushing away pebbles from under her thighs, Helene’s jangled nerves settled a little, and clenched muscles began to relax. She squinted at the figurine, but, from this distance, even an outline was barely visible. It was a miracle that no one, including the goddess, had been harmed—
yet
.

When an icy ball settled in the pit of her belly, Helene couldn’t contain a shiver.

The prince asked, “Are you cold?”

“Not really.” She pulled up her legs to hug her knees. “Just edging a little toward terrified.”

He held the torch and its light a foot above his head. “Watch the flame. It sucks back. Oxygen isn’t cut off completely. If air can get in, there’s a way out. Even rock wears away over time. Your doorway into that ravine is proof enough of that.”

She dropped her feet to the cold uneven ground. “Well, let’s get started.”

“We’ll gather ourselves first. Catch our breath.”

That would have been fine, except she hadn’t felt this claustrophobic since she was a kid when she’d been grounded an entire month for sneaking out to see an R-rated movie. Back then, being cooped up had seemed like the end of the world. Talk about gaining perspective.

A low-pitched creak sounded overhead, and both their gazes shot up. After an interminable time with her fingers gripping the seat’s lip, she summoned the courage to ask, “Have there been other cave-ins?”

“None I’m aware of. Soon as I get back, I’ll have the structure reinforced.”

She arched a brow. “I thought this cave was meant to be a big secret.”

“I’ll need to cut out the tongues of all workers involved, of course.” When her jaw dropped, his dark eyes glittered in the torchlight as he grinned. “Don’t lose your sense of humor, Helene. We’re going to need it.”

After a time, when the constant trickle of water started driving her mad, she asked, “Do you think the rock’s settled yet?”

“No way to be sure.”

He went to say more but cut himself off. In the torchlight’s relief, she studied his profile—that proud hawkish nose, a muscle pulsing high on his smudged cheek, the tight line of his mouth. What was he hiding?

“If you have something to share, go ahead. I won’t fall apart.” At least she’d try not to.

“If we poke around,” he finally said, “the rock might be disturbed again.”

“If we don’t, we’ll dehydrate and…”

Well, she didn’t need to spell it out.

“We’ll wait,” he said. “Let more edges settle into place.”

She wanted to argue and get this show on the road, but she couldn’t explore on her own. Irrespective of going nuts simply sitting here, wondering how this might all end, what choice did she have? 

Passing minutes cobbled together, dragging by like weeks. Gradually Helene’s vision adjusted.

Across the way, she made out the figurine’s shape while her companion’s steely presence grew clearer too. She took comfort in his regular breathing and in the rhythmic rise and fall of his broad bare chest with its sheen of sweat. He held the torch with two sure hands with the stem between his opened thighs. Despite it all, she couldn’t help but imagine how hard those thighs might feel to touch. If they’d lived in another time, the man sitting beside her would have led armies.

She shivered again. The torchlight gave off some heat but not nearly enough to get rid of her goose bumps. Raising her legs, she hugged her knees again. When her teeth began to chatter, air crackled as the torchlight arced over to one side and a strong arm looped around her. Helene’s eyes widened and her cheeks flashed hot. She hadn’t expected the contact. But she was a thousand times grateful for the comfort…for this incredible skin-on-skin heat.

She eased out a breath and settled her cheek against a slab bare chest. Her drawn-up legs gradually moved to rest lightly against his lap. Fisting a hand under her chin, aware of his palm stroking her arm to generate warmth, she snuggled in.

After a time, he asked, “Is that better?”

Her eyes had drifted shut. “Way better.”

“Your skin is like ice.”

“Yours is like fire.”

“The perfect complement then.”

Perfect is how she’d describe it.

As his palm slid up and down and his chin lowered to lightly rest on top of her head, she began to thaw. More minutes ticked by and reality seemed to turn in on itself. Crazy, but Helene would have sworn she felt another presence here, waiting right along with them.

The goddess?

As much as she enjoyed the stories, she didn’t believe in witches and goblins and magical powers. But weren’t legends in some way connected to fact?  

“Tell me more about your goddess,” she said.

“She isn’t
my
goddess. She belongs to our history. And our future.”

Helene’s lips curved against his gorgeous hard chest. “You really believe in her, huh?”

“I believe in her the same way I believe in the blood that flows through my veins.”

“So you think her powers are real?”

“We give power to a belief through our faith. You must have things you believe in, Helene.”

Her stomach swooped. He wondered if she had faith? Cloaked in this darkness, she could be honest.

“After my dad died, I stopped believing in a whole pile of things.”

The stroking on her arm slowed before starting up again. “It’s hard to lose a parent, I know.”

“He’d just gotten back from an overseas trip,” Helene explained. “He got sick all of a sudden. Weakness. Fever. I was just a kid.”

A totally crushed kid. But she knew her dad would have wanted her to live her life, not blame the world. So she started planning a future. Started dreaming again of the adventures the two of them had talked so much about—adventures her mother would say were foolish. Filled with risks.

Her mom would spew when she heard about this.

If they got out of here alive.

“My father died last year,” Darius said. “A stroke. My mother died six months later, they said it was of a broken heart.”

Helene’s own heart rolled over. Her mother might drive her crazy but she couldn’t bear to think of losing her. Her mom was all the family she had.

“You have siblings, don’t you,” she said. “I always wanted a sister.”

“One younger brother, Nikos. A bright, strong young man. And, yes, I have a sister, too.”

Helene’s lips twitched. “Do you lord it over them like big brothers do?”

“Not if they do as they’re told.”

She smiled and imagined that Darius was smiling too.

“My brother’s finishing a medical degree in the UK,” he said.

“And your sister?”

“A teenager who can be a handful at times, to say the least.”

Most teenagers were, weren’t they?

“Does she look like you?” she asked.

“Apparently we both look like our mother.”

“She must have been beautiful.”

As soon as the words were out, Helene wanted to take them back. But seriously, Darius must know he was a good looking man. Compliments would be thrown at him all over the place.

The stroking on her arm continued, lulling and warming her more.

“You’ve stopped shaking,” he said.

She was positively toasty now. But when he moved to release her, she snatched his hand back and held on.

“I’m still a little shaky on the inside,” she said.

So he brought her close again, pressing her in until wiry hair on his chest tickled her nose. Glorious warmth seeped back in, flooding her to her core. Her palm gingerly splayed over a male abdomen rung with muscles.

“You’re pretty good at this,” she murmured, smiling.

“I only hope I’m good enough to get us out of here.”

As his palm slid higher up her arm, over her bare shoulder, that heat grew and grew. She had to remind herself to keep this physical contact in perspective. Trapped in a cave, they were utilizing body heat. She wouldn’t dwell on whether his lips had brushed her hair just now. Or if—her ear against his chest—she felt his heart beating harder than it had a moment ago.

She peered up. Darius was staring straight ahead, concentrating. Then he suddenly stiffened and abruptly set her aside.

Helene shot a glance up. “Is the roof caving again?”

His voice rumbled out from the shadows. “Did you feel that draft?”

Helene blinked around. Where the torchlight had seemed so bright a moment ago, now everything was dark again. Curled up against his chest, she hadn’t felt a draft but obviously it had been strong enough to snuff out the torch.

His box of matches rattled. A scratch then a flash, and that eerie glow of light returned. Finding his feet, Darius handed over the torch.

“Hold it high,” he said. “Time to move.”

He picked his way over fallen rock into the deeper shadows and stopped at the far side of the chamber. His back expanded as he took a fortifying breath then reached for the figurine. He’d had trouble trying to shift her earlier. If she wouldn’t budge now, he’d have to leave her behind. If more rocks fell, she might not be so lucky next time.

In the flickering light, the muscles in Darius’s muscles twisted and bulged. Finally the sound of stone grazing against grit filtered back. Then he turned, beaming, with the goddess free and safe in his hands.

Crossing back over, he settled the figurine securely under one arm and took back the torch. “Follow me,” he said. “Be careful. Some rocks are sharp.”

After she’d put on her sandals, they headed deeper into the chamber and eventually found a narrow tunnel. Somewhere ahead was the source of that draft and, hopefully, their way out of here.

Progress was slow, but the deeper they went, the more the torchlight flickered as oxygen fed its flame. Regularly, Darius glanced behind to be certain Helene was right behind him. Each time, she put on a brave face.

Finally they came to a fork. Darius hesitated then took the right hand bend. When they came to a second fork, he glanced back like he was wondering if they ought to retrace their steps.

“You okay?” he asked.

She nodded. “How about you?” Carrying that monster of a torch as well as the goddess, he must be tired. “I can carry her for a while, if you like.”

But when she put out her arms, his brows fell together, and he pulled away. “Helene,
please
.”

“I only wanted to help.”

“You’ve helped enough.”