Saved by the Monarch (11 page)

All that blood in the cab. God.

Gunther had been killed because of her. Because she had begged a ride from him. The stress and danger of the last two days crashed down on her, along with the sure knowledge that Miklos and she would soon be joining Gunther wherever he was now. The constant, unrelenting threat of death was beginning to become more than she could bear.

And she knew Miklos was mad at her, that he was ready to tear into her for having acted so foolishly. And he would be right. She might have started with good intentions, but they meant nothing. Gunther was dead. A sob escaped her throat.

She fully expected the prince to give her a piece of his mind, was ready to admit how right he was, how foolish she’d been. But the next thing she knew, his arms were warm and strong around her, his presence fortifying as he pulled her to him. His familiar scent comforted her. She let her head rest against his shoulder as she swallowed her tears.

“I shouldn’t have left you alone in that room,” he said softly.

His warm hand reached under the parka he’d insisted she wear, and smoothed her back. She soaked in his strength. And with each passing moment, she became more and more aware of their bodies touching.

She only had to move her head a fraction of an inch to have her mouth come into contact with his neck. She
could feel his pulse as blood rushed under his skin. Her lips tingled, but she didn’t move away. She brought a hand up to his chest instead, and sank into the feeling of his arms tightening around her.

Awareness filled out the darkness. The connection between them could not be ignored. It had been there from the very first moment. She had been foolish to deny it.

Heat blossomed inside her and spread through her body.

“Would you mind if I kissed you?” he asked suddenly.

Desire trembled through her. Maybe it was the imminent threat of death, but she wanted him with every ounce of her being, as if his touch was the only anchor left that held her to life. But she didn’t want him to see, to know just how badly she needed him.

“Oh, why not. We’ll be dead by morning anyway.”

“That’s the spirit,” he said with a chuckle that broke some of the tension between them, but not the sexual tension, which even another avalanche would have had trouble extinguishing at this stage. He put a finger under her chin and tilted her face up to his.

When their lips touched at last, their surroundings fell away.

Warm.

Firm.

Seeking.

He kissed her bottom lip leisurely, like a man who had all the time in the world, when all she wanted was to rush headlong into the denied need between them. The top lip came next, then the corners of her mouth.
And when she relaxed at last and sighed in pleasure, his tongue swept inside to touch hers.

Inches of clothes stood between them, but she was more aware of his body than she’d ever been of any other man. Need filled her little by little as he expertly seduced her mouth. That scared her. She didn’t want to need him.

She’d come to admit the attraction, then to admit that there was little she could do to ignore it. But giving into some passing attraction and needing a man the way she needed Miklos at this moment were on different planes altogether.

Needing a man gave him power. Needing a man could leave her with a broken heart. Or with a life she’d never wanted, one that would make her miserable.

Startled by the thought, she pulled back a little.

She took a long moment to reassure herself. No, her heart had nothing to do with this. She wasn’t that far gone yet. Her heart was still safe. So when he moved after her and claimed her lips again, she let him.

And maybe she didn’t need to think months or years into the future anyway. Maybe all she had—all they had—was this one night. And if that was the case, she wanted to spend it in Miklos’s arms.

So she shrugged out of the parka, and after she let it drop to the floor, she was the one who slipped her hands under his sweater and shirt, flattening her greedy palms against the warm skin of his hard abdomen.

He caught his breath.

She smiled into the darkness, then peeled off her sweater.

“I wish I could see you,” he said.

“If you could, I probably wouldn’t be this brave.”

“I’ve never seen you anything but courageous yet.”

Something shifted in her chest. She focused on the physical side of things between them instead. She took off her shirt, then the long-sleeved tee she wore under that.

“You’ll catch a cold,” he said, but his large hands ran up her side, caressing her rib cage.

“I’ll let you know when I start feeling the chill.”

That must have reassured him, because he reached to her back to unclasp her bra, then pulled his hands back to the front and cupped her breasts. She immediately felt her nipples harden and pleasure zing through her.

By the time his hot, moist mouth closed over one nipple, she was so close to the edge that the sudden, deep draw and the flick of his tongue nearly sent her over.

He undressed in record time, never fully losing contact with her. Then he undressed her the rest of the way and pulled her onto his lap so she sat facing him, straddling him, the obvious proof of his desire between them.

“You’re a prince. You must have women falling into your bed left and right,” she said in a final attempt to gain some perspective, build some defense so she wouldn’t fall in love with him right here, right now.

“I’m a prince. Under nearly twenty-four-seven media attention. The potential for astronomical disaster is pretty high with every relationship. Tabloids have
fodder for a week if I so much as look at a woman.” He cupped her breasts again.

“Are you telling me you’re a virgin?” she mocked, pretending that his touch wasn’t making her breathless.

She heard a quick, low chuckle.

“Would you go extra gentle with me if I were?” he asked before moving one of his hands to her hip and fitting his lips to her nipple.

She wanted fast and hot and hard. Now. “Sure.” The single word came out on a moan.

“Liar,” he said.

Her hands roamed his magnificent body, and soon she, too, wished for some light so that she might see him. He explored her gently but thoroughly, and she felt her body responding to the slightest touch, to each and every kiss. All the delicious tensions grew inside her. When she couldn’t take them any longer, she rose up to her knees, and as he guided her with his hands on her buttocks, she fitted herself over him.

There might be no going back after this, she thought and hesitated for a split second, but then his lips captured hers in a soul-wrenching kiss. Maybe there had never been any chance of going back, not from the moment her plane had touched down on the tarmac.

She let her body slide down onto him.

Once he was inside her, he held her in place for a second, his hands on her hips. Not that she could have moved anyway. She needed to catch her breath, needed to adjust to the spreading pleasure of him stretching her.

She thought she would lose it with the first move of
his hips, but he seemed to know her body better than she did and somehow cajoled her into staying with him.

It was as though their bodies had been made for each other, they fit perfectly together in every way. She had been a fool to ever think that she’d be able to resist him. This went way beyond resolutions and common sense and her plans for life.

This was life.

Afterward, when she lay spent in his arms, heartbeat against heartbeat, she was stunned by the elemental force that had erupted between them. And still lingered. She had to pull back and catch her breath a little.

But he captured her mouth in one last kiss.

Well.

A few more minutes passed before she could move away and put some space between them. She tried to gather her thoughts.

Her brain was clearly not running on enough power yet, because she found herself saying, “When this is over. If we make it. If you still want it. I’ll marry you.” Then she quickly added. “If it helps the country.”

Then she shut up, not quite able to believe that she’d said any of that.

She wasn’t sure what she’d expected from him by way of a response, but it sure as anything wasn’t an emphatic “No.”

He was dragging his clothes back on.

The chill had definitely returned to the cell.

“What?” She stared at him through the darkness
and was frustrated that she could only see his outline but not the expression on his face.

“Under other circumstances,” he said with some tension in his voice. “But no.”

“What circumstances?” she snapped, grabbing for her own clothes, feeling unexpectedly shaken. She didn’t want to be rejected naked.

“It’s not what you want.”

“Can I be the one to decide what I want?” Then she added, “As you’ve put it before, I’m willing to make the sacrifice.”

“No.”

For a second, speech defied her. “You’re too stubborn to be believed. You’re completely unreasonable. You know that?”

God save any sane woman from princes.

“I’ve put your life in danger already.” His voice was thick with emotion, but resolution as well.

“Spare me the ‘I’m the valiant prince and I will save you from myself’ routine.”

“Listen, I—”

“Heard enough. No further explanation necessary. I take it back. I don’t want to marry you.”

She couldn’t believe they were fighting when her body was still tingling with pleasure from what they’d done just moments ago. Don’t go back there. She tried to focus on the present.

“I do want to marry you,” he said distinctly. He was already dressed.

“Would you make up your mind?” She dragged on her sweater. “I think it’s good that we’re not getting
married. We’d probably strangle each other before the honeymoon was over.”

His arm reached for her in the darkness and pulled her hard against his chest. The next second he was kissing her, hard and without any restraint, without end, taking, taking, taking. Only when she had nothing left—no strength in her spine, no air in her lungs—did he let her go.

She was stunned. Dazed. Shocked.

His.

She shook her head to get that crazy thought out.

He swore under his breath and reached for her again, and she steeled herself this time. But she didn’t get to find out whether or not she could have resisted. The cell’s steel door slammed open. Private time was over.

When the three men came in, Miklos’s head was still spinning from Judi, his emotions whipped into a maelstrom where she was concerned. But he had to set that aside now, focus on the moment if he were to save them. They would have time together later. He swore to that.

He didn’t ask the men why they’d turned against the monarchy. He knew the answer to that: They were following their general, and General Rossi was following someone who’d promised him power. So he asked another question, one that was a million times more important to him. “What is happening with my family?”

“They will remain under guard at Maltmore Castle until tonight,” one of them said. He was a captain.

And then they’d be killed. An attack by the very soldiers who were supposed to protect them, probably dressed as rebels. Or maybe an accident of gigantic proportions was planned to take out everyone. Maybe a fire at the castle, or the ceiling of the dining room collapsing as the royal family took supper. The choices were as endless as the general was inventive.

The captain held Miklos’s gaze. For a moment, he looked like he was torn over choices he had to make. “Out of all of this, you’re the only thing I regret,” he said quietly, then squared his shoulders and hardened his face. By the time he walked out the door, he was once again a soldier without emotions.

A crack in the general’s plan? Maybe a weakness he could exploit. Miklos looked after the man as the two who’d remained pointed their handguns at Judi and him.

One opened the cell door. He motioned to Judi. “You. Out.”

“Put on the coat first,” Miklos said and moved toward the door so he could throw himself in the gap if he thought they were trying to separate him from her. No way in hell would he let her go anywhere without him.

She shrugged into the parka and stepped out of the cell. Her hands were tied, and she was gagged again.

Miklos came next, furious that he couldn’t do anything. But with a gun pressed against Judi’s chest, he didn’t even dare look like he was planning a move.

They were shoved up the concrete stairs and to the flatbed military truck that waited for them just outside.

Twilight was settling in.

He scanned as much of the compound as he could see, but couldn’t spot the captain. And he didn’t have much time to look. Soon they were pushed up into the cab, one armed man on each side of them. Judi was sitting next to the driver, Miklos next to the other man.

He had no idea where the men were taking them
and, with the gag, could no longer ask. Still, two against two. If it weren’t for the weapons, the odds wouldn’t have been bad.

He tried to figure out how much time they had left. They’d taken his watch and cell. But then the driver turned on the ignition, and the radio in the truck came on and it showed the time. Six
p.m.
They had a few hours at best. The captain had talked about this evening.

He looked at the two men, soldiers in the same army he served in, and felt nothing but disgust toward them. They would only look at him when absolutely necessary. They fully knew what they were doing.

But there were other, honorable men among the ones he served with, he was sure of it. He needed to get to those and ask for help. They needed to take back the castle.

He took stock of the cab, every detail. Judi’s hands were tied in the front, his in the back. The soldiers thought her the lesser danger, which was also something that could be exploited. There wasn’t much else to help them, but he was slowly forming a plan.

When the truck left the general’s compound and they were far enough away, rattling down the icy road toward some unknown destination, Miklos cleared his throat. Then he coughed behind the rag in his mouth. Coughed again. Gagged.

He leaned forward and gasped for air. The man to his right bent, gun pressed to Miklos’s side, to see what was wrong with him. In a sudden move that he put all his weight behind, Miklos brought his head back,
slamming it into the soldier’s face, knocking the man out. Since the gun was touching Miklos, he knew exactly where it was without having to turn. With his hands behind his back, he grabbed it, slid his grip to the handle, brought it to his other side and shot at the driver.

Judi was bent as far as she was able—having figured out that he was trying for a break—with her head on her knees. He had no trouble aiming, didn’t have to waste a single second with hesitation. The headshot went a little off course, hit the driver’s cheekbone instead of his temple, made a mess.

But Judi had the steering wheel in the next second, her feet on the brake, bringing the truck to a stop before it could have hit a snowcapped boulder.

They stayed motionless for a second, both breathing hard, just looking at each other. He could have looked at her for eternity, but right now time was of the essence.

“Get his knife,” he said after a moment. His words sounded unintelligible from behind the gag.

But she understood from the movement of his head. She cut him loose, keeping her gaze on him and away from the men.

He removed her gag first, then his. “Good work.” Then he set her hands free.

He opened the door, shoved the man he’d knocked out, jumped to the ground after him, but didn’t bother with finishing the job. He had no time and no bullets to spare. He went around the front of the truck and to the driver’s side instead, dragged the driver’s body out
and took the man’s seat. He used his sleeve to wipe the blood from the steering wheel.

“Where are we going?” Judi drew as far from the bloody mess as possible, practically pressing herself into the passenger-side door. She was staring at him wide-eyed, clearly shaken, but holding it together.

He stepped on the gas. “There’s a military base nearby. We need to pick up a couple of men.”

She had blood in her hair and tears in her eyes. Her hands were trembling.

“Hey.” He wanted to pull her to him, but was aware that she needed a moment to gather herself. “You did great. Hang in there. It’s almost over.”

Then he drove like his brother, Lazlo, who not only owned a business that built cars, but in his free time he also raced them.

A half hour passed, mostly in silence, before he reached the base. He hesitated for a second before he pulled up to the gate. What if the general had somehow gained control of all the men?

What if he was walking to his death, taking Judi with him? A million thoughts raced through his head, but that was the one that gave weight to his fears. He did not want to put Judi in any more danger than he already had.

It all came down to what he believed. Could that many people hate his family, hate him? Was the monarchy a leech feeding off the people, a tyrant that kept them down? Were the things the Freedom Council was saying the way the average person felt? Had he been that out of touch with the life of the common people? Had his family?

Even as he asked himself those questions, he knew that, whatever dangers waited for him up ahead, he couldn’t back away from them.

There were two guards at the gate.

Both he and Judi were armed, but he wasn’t sure Judi could or would use a gun. She still looked stunned from the violence of taking the truck over. But he wouldn’t underestimate her. She’d stood her ground at every turn.

He pulled the truck up to the men.

“Major.” They saluted him and drew up the gate. “You got away from the kidnappers. Thank God. Can we help?”

They looked wide-eyed at the blood on the window and the blood on his forehead. The cut above his eye had stopped bleeding during the night, but he hadn’t dared rubbing the dried clumps off, not wanting to start it bleeding again.

They looked at him with pure joy and relief, not as if they were in cahoots with the general. “Do you require assistance, Major?”

Miklos looked at the open gate, but left the truck idling. “Is General Rossi on base?”

“Yes, Major. He came through five minutes ago.”

He hesitated. For the first time ever, he found trusting his people difficult. He slipped his hand off the steering wheel, grabbed the gun on his lap and put his finger on the trigger. “General Rossi has turned traitor. He’s the one who had me kidnapped. He’s holding the royal family at Maltmore Castle. He’s preparing to kill them tonight.”

The men couldn’t have looked more flabbergasted. “Major?”

He gripped his gun a little tighter as he said, “Time for you to declare your alliance.” It struck him how somber his voice sounded.

“Queen and country!” The men shouted as one and snapped their heels together. There hadn’t been so much as a split second of hesitation.

Miklos relaxed. “Get in the back.”

“Can’t leave our post,” one of them protested.

“It’s an order.”

“Yes, Major.”

When he reached the middle of the army base, he pulled over by the mess hall. “Go and find men that you trust absolutely. Only the ones that you know for a fact are loyal to the crown. Bring them back here.”

The fact that the guards were steadfast gave him hope. There had to be other loyal soldiers. And he had his own men. He hurried across the road, toward his platoon, with Judi close on his heels.

Since darkness had fallen, floodlights lit the base.

“I would try to hide you somewhere until it’s all over, but I’m sure our presence on base has already been noted and reported to the general.”

“I’d rather stay with you, anyway,” she said.

Forever? He wanted to ask, but didn’t. He moved on with what he had to do instead. He found his platoon’s quarters empty, with a guard posted at the door. “Where are they?” he demanded.

“In the brig. Conduct unbecoming. General’s orders.”

He could not wait to come face-to-face with the general.

He took off for the small military lockup on base,
was let through without question. The general had probably not expected him to show up here, had not thought of giving instructions to have him seized if he showed up. Or maybe the general had wanted to give just such an order, but couldn’t because he didn’t have the whole base on his side yet. A thought to give Miklos hope. Still, as he walked into the jail, he wondered if getting out was going to be as easy as getting in.

“I want my platoon released at once,” he told the second lieutenant at the desk.

“I’m sorry, Major, I can’t. General’s orders.”

In the army, the general outranked him.

“By order of His Royal Highness, release them.” He played his trump card for the first time in more than two decades of his life as a military man.

The lieutenant’s eyes went wide. “Yes, Your Highness.” He made a call.

The platoon was coming toward him less than two minutes later, anger and outrage etched on every rugged face. These were his closest friends, the ones he’d trained with before he became a captain, and then a major. If anyone stayed loyal, this was the solid core.

“We didn’t do a damned thing,” Tony said in Italian.

Joe flashed a dirty look at the captain, then looked at Judi with interest. “The general’s gone mad.”

“It’s worse than that.” Miklos explained the situation to his men. They swore as they listened, had murder in their eyes before he was done.

While he spoke, they’d quietly surrounded the second lieutenant and his men at the front office. Now Miklos threw a questioning look toward the officer.

“Queen and country!” The man swore his allegiance.

But two of his men gripped their weapons tighter and inched toward the phone. Tony took care of them.

“Lady Judit Marezzi.” Miklos introduced her at last. “Lord Marezzi’s daughter. Guarding her with your life is going to be your primary objective.”

“Yes, Major,” the men said as one, a speculative look spreading on some of the faces, knowing grins on others.

“Let’s figure out who we can completely trust. Then you and you—” he pointed at Vince and Pete “—are going to find them.”

T
HE BASE LOCKUP WAS A
good place to draw back to, since it was fortified to keep people from getting out. But settling in for a siege wasn’t Miklos’s plan. He had to gather as many faithful men as he could, then head to Maltmore Castle.

He’d sent men to find the general, but he didn’t hold much hope that they’d succeed. The general knew the base pretty damn well and had too many supporters here to be easily captured.

His old platoon held thirty men. Four platoons made up the company he’d headed when he’d been a captain. When he became a major, even more soldiers came under his supervision. He was now in charge of a full battalion. If the battalion remained loyal to him, the monarchy would be saved. But he wasn’t optimistic enough to count on that.

As more and more men gathered in front of the
mess hall across the road, Miklos climbed to the prison’s flat roof, cursing the pain that pulsed through his knee. Strange how he’d forgotten all about that injury while he’d been holding Judi in his arms back in their cell.

Slipping into that memory was tempting. He glanced back. She sat on the roof, in cover, out of the range of any rifles on the ground. Her gaze held absolute trust. He drank that in for as long as he could before turning to the waiting men.

“You know me,” he started in a voice loud enough to reach them. “You know what I stand for. Some of you have served with me for two decades. We did the drills to fight any enemy that could threaten the country we love.”

“Yeah.”

“Damn right we did.”

He heard individual voices of agreement from the group.

“Today’s the day we have to fight that fight. And it’s worse than we ever expected. Your queen and my brothers have already been captured. They might have already been killed.” His voice dropped on the last word. “And the enemy came from within.”

An outraged growl rippled through the men.

“Who’s the traitor?” a number of men shouted.

He knew the guards and his men must have passed that news on already, but he also knew that the soldiers needed confirmation. They were loyal to the army, to their superior officers. They needed to hear a distinct charge from him.

“General Rossi.”

A roar rose, mingling with the sound of new people approaching. The general’s men were bearing down on them and had opened fired without warning.