Saved by the Monarch (15 page)

She still couldn’t say anything, and when his lips touched hers, her last coherent thoughts disappeared.

His kiss and touch were gentle. She let him lay her back down onto the silk sheets, and moaned in pleasure when his body covered hers.

He pulled away only long enough to remove the comforter from between them. Then raised an eyebrow as he took her in.

She wore some antique reproduction of a princess nightgown, made of white silk and lace. One of the maids had given it to her. In the early morning sunlight that poured in the window, the gown left little to the imagination.

She felt self-conscious all of a sudden as her nipples puckered under his heated gaze. And since he was the kind of guy who rarely missed anything, he
caught that and focused on them. A sexy smile spread across his lips.

“You should have come to Valtria sooner.” His mouth brushing a nipple through the silk took away her ability to answer.

His good hand ran up under the gown, caressing her heated skin. She arched against him in wanton need as she kneaded his shoulders.

“I don’t think you should be princess,” he said.

Her heart sank. Here it came. She needed to steel herself and be reasonable. He was one hundred percent right about this. She hated that the words hurt anyway.

“You grew up with different ideals. A lot more freedom. It would be hard on you. More than I can ask.”

Her breath caught in her throat.

“But I’m going to ask it anyway. I don’t want you to go,” he said.

She was too stunned for a second, needing a gulp of air before she could respond. “I won’t,” she breathed.

“I mean not ever.”

Her gaze locked with his.

“I want you to marry me,” he went on. “I know that for you this seems too old-fashioned and too sudden, but—”

She reached up and silenced him with a kiss. Her heart sang. Her body was shaky with need.

Long minutes passed before they separated again.

“Marriage to me…I can’t guarantee that I’ll be worth the trouble, no matter how hard I’ll try,” he made a point to tell her.

“You’re worth it.”

He grinned. “I love you.” Then he turned all serious, and said, “I love you” again.

“I love you, too, Prince Miklos.”

“Princess Judi.” He tasted the words. “I’m going to love saying that.”

He kissed her before she could respond. And, really, what response was there to give? What they had between them was pure joy, pure love, a gift from heaven.

“I’m sorry I don’t have a ring. I want something of historical significance, but the most important royal jewels are kept in the treasury. Even I have to make an appointment to take something out.”

“I don’t need a fancy ring.”

“You’ll have a ring that’ll be the envy of princesses around the world.”

“You just want everyone within a mile to know that I belong to you.”

“I suppose you haven’t called me archaic in days, so I was due for a reminder.” His eyes danced. “But you do speak the truth. You belong to me.” He turned thoughtful. “Do you think we could have a T-shirt made? Aren’t those things a custom in your country?”

She swatted at him playfully. Then she thought of something and giggled.

He pulled back. “What is it?”

“To think that I almost went to Puerto Vallarta instead.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“Aunt Viola talked me out of it. She said they had lizards, and giant spiders, and snakes and bats.”

“At the resort?” His voice was skeptical.

“In hindsight, she might have exaggerated. She was adamant that I should come here.”

“I’ll see to it that she receives a royal commendation.”

“Oh, she would like that.”

“Do you know what I would like?”

She grinned. “From the look in your eyes, I have a couple of pretty good guesses.”

His smile turned wolfish. “I do love smart princesses.”

“Just the one, I hope.”

“I love
my
princess,” he corrected. “I love you, Judi Marezzi, soon to be Kerkay.” He gave a low growl deep in his throat. “Can’t be soon enough for me.”

The kiss he gave her made her head spin. His hand worshipped every inch of her body, removing all obstacles.

The sun bathed the room in golden light.

He was naked.

Wow.

Magnificent.

They’d been partially undressed when they’d made love at the general’s compound, thinking that might be their last day alive, but their prison had been nearly pitch-dark. This was the first time she could really see him.

She let her gaze glide over the smooth hills and valleys of his body. Everything in perfect order and then some. Wide chest, flat abdomen with ripples of muscles in orderly rows. Even his body looked disciplined.

She reached out. His skin was warm beneath her hand. She could feel the steady beating of his heart.

She leaned forward, brushed her lips against his. “I didn’t want this to happen.”

“I did,” he said matter-of-factly and grabbed her hips to fit her to him.

“Since when?” She pulled her head back to look into his eyes.

“Since you walked off the plane.”

Satisfaction, pleasure, vanity—or something akin to those—thrilled through her.

“I thought you were airport security.”

He gave a short bark of a laugh at that.

And kissed her hard. And somehow maneuvered her to right where he wanted her. Then began the slow process of seducing her body, touch by touch, nibble by nibble, driving her to the edge with his seemingly endless patience. But he made her wait, made her hotter with every touch, made her need him.

He was perfect. He was her prince. He loved her. Her head was spinning. He touched her so tenderly that it made her heart ache. She couldn’t keep her roaming hands from exploring him.

She needed him to blot out the images of the violence of the last couple of days. She wanted to do the same for him. She wanted to make him forget his injury.

“Shouldn’t you be careful with your hand?”

“They shot me with enough painkillers that I won’t have any feeling in it for at least another hour. I want to take full advantage of that hour. The rest of my body
has plenty of feeling in it. I’m thinking we should focus on the positive.”

She laid him down on the bed. “Let’s just keep the hand out of harm’s way.”

“Will you play nurse to your wounded soldier?” His wolfish grin widened.

“You bet.” She bent to kiss him. She loved his sensuous, masculine mouth.

That mouth could make her do just about anything, she reflected long moments later, her body vibrating with tension and pleasure.

He shifted their positions and turned her under him, supporting himself above her on his elbows, bringing his good hand up to her chin as he dipped his head to kiss her again.

His corded muscles betrayed that he was as much on the edge as she was, but he held back, took his time with her. He trailed kisses down her cheek, her neck, moving with excruciating slowness toward a peaking nipple that begged for his attentions. He heard the silent call and proved to be extraordinarily accommodating.

He seemed to know what she wanted and when, in exactly which way. Heat pulsed between her legs where their bodies touched, and she could feel his hard desire. Her knees came up; her legs wrapped around him.

Now. She wanted him now, all of him. She’d never wanted anyone or anything with such desperate urgency.

But he took his time with her other nipple, melting
the bones in her body. Now. Now. Now. She couldn’t take much more of this. Patience was a virtue she was momentarily missing.

“Please,” she whispered.

He moved to the underside of her breast, then trailed hot kisses lower and lower.

She lost the ability to breathe.

And then they made sweet love to each other, the princess and the prince.

“How is my Princess Judi?” Miklos came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her growing belly as she checked her hair, which the royal stylist had prepared to perfection an hour earlier. “I can’t wait to hold our baby.”

“You and me both. He’s been pretty active today. I swear he’s practicing fencing in there.”

“Never too early to start. Ready to go?”

“Sure.” Going to dinner at the royal palace still put butterflies in her stomach, though. Buckingham Palace in London had nothing on the royal palace of Valtria, which was majestic in both size and splendor. She still hadn’t gotten used to the army of servants in residence. Her own ancestral castle at the foot of the mountains seemed more manageable by comparison, although she was still overwhelmed even by that. For now the castle was all she could handle.

She wasn’t quite ready for palace life yet, with all its studied formality and protocol. To her surprise, she’d found the royal family more than accommodating—even the queen, who’d found new strength in the news
that she would soon have a grandchild. Her condition had turned for the better. She was determined to see the baby born.

Since the princes often visited Maltmore Castle, her nearest neighbor now, keeping an eye on restorations, they had plenty of company. The country was calm, and she hoped it would stay this way forever. The general was dead, the rebel forces dispersed. She tried not to think of the few remaining dissenters or the Freedom Council and the three powerful men who formed it, none of whom had been unmasked yet. Miklos was working on that still. And she had full confidence in her husband. He was the most wonderful man she’d ever known. She loved her life here.

Truth was, Judi was being spoiled rotten. The princes fawned over her and flirted with her outrageously, sometimes just to get Miklos’s goat. The queen treated her like the beloved daughter she’d never had.

Her head spun from this sudden large loving family. They truly were extraordinary, in every sense of the word. She hoped the little stunt she’d just pulled wouldn’t get any of them mad at her.

“What?” Miklos caught the look on her face immediately.

“I just…” She hesitated. “How does Benedek feel about meddling?”

“In what?” Miklos’s eyes narrowed.

“His love life,” she said on a thin voice, thinking that what she’d done might not have been the best idea she’d ever had.

“What have you done?” Miklos held her closer.

“The renovations on the Royal Opera House are done.”

“Correct.” He watched her closely.

“And it needs a fitting opening night.”

“Since when are you interested in the opera?”

“Since I asked Rayne to give the opening performance.” She held her breath.

“Rayne Williams?”

She nodded, impressed that he would know the woman’s last name. The reigning diva of opera had gone by first name only in the past decade. At age forty, she was hailed as the biggest sensation of the century. Her beauty inspired movies and lines of cosmetics. And apparently a young European prince.

“Do you think Benedek will kill me? He’s had a crush on her forever.” Which he tried to keep a secret, but couldn’t quite hide. Not when he would drop everything and fly wherever she was to see each of her new performances.

“If she still traveled, he would probably have invited her himself. Don’t be too disappointed if she says no,” Miklos warned.

The diva’s paralyzing fear of flying was public knowledge. Five years before, her mother and brother had died in a plane crash. The only reason she hadn’t been on the plane was because of a vocal-cord injury that had needed immediate medical assistance. Her manager had switched her flight to the next one, then rushed her to a specialist. She didn’t make that flight, either, nor any other since.

“She’s doing much better,” Judi reassured him.

“And how do you know this?”

“Aunt Viola.”

“Is she ever coming to Valtria?”

“Maybe for the christening. She’s still too nervous to go before the queen. She thinks she might be reprimanded for neglecting her duties around me for the last two decades.”

Miklos’s only response was rolling his eyes toward the ceiling. “How does Aunt Viola know Rayne?” he asked then, as if on second thought.

“Rayne’s mother was a good friend to her. They were on some charity boards together. She kept in touch with the daughter.”

“I thought her job in the U.S. was to watch over you, not to socialize.”

“I hardly needed full-time supervision.”

A dark eyebrow lifted slightly. “I beg to differ. You’ve certainly been a handful ever since you got here. I can’t take my eyes off you for a second.”

She nudged an elbow into the solid wall of muscle behind her.

“Okay.” He gave up teasing her. “If Aunt Viola can get Rayne to come to Valtria and make my little brother happy, I’ll have an official letter of pardon issued by the queen for all her past and future sins.”

She turned in his arms and caught her breath at the full-of-love look he gave her.

“Hey, it’s turning out to be a pretty good year.” He dipped to brush his mouth over hers. “The queen is feeling better than she has in a long time. We managed to stop a rebellion. I found the love of my life, and
Benedek’s about to get a chance at his, and Istvan—” He snapped his mouth shut.

“What about Istvan?”

“I just meant that he’s about to become an uncle. All my brothers are. And they’re all very excited.” He nibbled her lower lip.

And almost distracted her enough to forget what they were talking about. Almost.

She pulled back. “What about Istvan?”

He looked uncomfortable. “I’m not supposed to say.”

“He’s in love, too?” The man was such an introvert. She would be curious about the woman who brought that one to his knees. He spent most of his time in museums and writing historical papers for the Royal Academy. He did some digs, too. He was sort of like Indiana Jones, but much more handsome, and much, much more geeky.

“Love? God, no.” Miklos looked at her in horror. “She would have to be at least a thousand years old and come in a sarcophagus in mint condition to get my brother interested.”

“He found something?” she guessed.

He nodded reluctantly. She’d seen that look before.

“This wouldn’t have something to do with the mysterious Brotherhood of the Crown, would it?”

He gave her an infuriating, noncommittal grin.

“Let me guess, he found the graves of the original princes.”

“Oh, we know where those are. In the catacombs under the Abbey.”

“He found their legendary swords?”

Regret clouded his eyes immediately. “Those are still lost.”

Her eyes went wide with her next thought. “He found the jewels?”

According to legend, which she’d had plenty of time to research lately, the original Brotherhood’s romantic conquests were secondary only to their fighting skills. And the ladies who were in love with them, supposedly numbering in the thousands—although she found that hard to believe—tended to gift them with tokens of their appreciation, mostly a piece of their jewels, as keepsakes or good-luck charms or whatever. By all accounts, the hoard they’d accumulated had been considerable.

They’d planned to finance an army with it and push out foreign invaders, but they were betrayed and killed, and their treasure disappeared.

“He found the jewels?” she asked again when Miklos wouldn’t respond.

“He found some papers that might lead him to the jewels,” Miklos admitted at last, reluctantly. “You know how part of the ceiling came down in the guardhouse at the base of the South Tower during the fight?”

“I’m not likely to forget that, since I was right under it.”

His arms tightened around her. “Istvan went out there the day after, looking for clues of medieval construction and hoping he might find some broken tools or weapons that had been walled in. He found a leather pouch with some papers.”

“Well, what do they say?”

“Nothing. Mold had about eaten all the way through them. But he’s convinced he found a clue.”

He would be. Istvan was nothing if not optimistic about the slightest find, no matter how trivial. Of course, he would think it was some important clue. And he was probably equally convinced that he could restore those papers somehow and read them. The man had singular focus when it came to his work.

“Don’t tell them you know about this.” Miklos kissed one of her eyelids first, then the other. “The Brotherhood’s supposed to be our secret thing,” he said in a tone as if he were talking about mischievous kids. Like it was all his brothers’ doing. Like he didn’t get a huge kick out of their secret meetings and all this.

She smiled. God, she loved her valiant, secret-society prince. “My lips are sealed.”

He kissed her. “Could we wait with that for a few more minutes?”