The Pirate Prince (5 page)

All the while Miss Monteverdi hung close to her fiancé, watching the crowd fearfully as if she expected Lazar to leap out at her like a monster. When the soldier marched off to do his lordship’s bidding, Clemente laughed easily and drew his frightened bride into his arms, showering her with gallant reassurance.

Curling his lip in disdain at the lovebirds, Lazar shot a glance out over the square, swiftly assembling his course of action. He noted that the soldier on the pawing black horse was not far away, then he looked back at the happy couple, scowling. The fiancé was leading her by the hand back alongside the palazzo—making off with
his
hostage.

For what? he wondered. A lovers’ tryst?

His eyes narrowed as he saw Clemente caress her back.

All right, Miss Monteverdi, he thought, now you’ve annoyed me.

“But Domenic, they’re enjoying themselves! There’s no need to clear the square,” she protested, wishing belatedly that she hadn’t told him, for he had instantly started managing things, as usual.

Now, in her fright, overreacting to what was surely just her fervid imagination at work again, she had ruined the festival for everyone.

“Nonsense. It’s past midnight. These people should go home,” Domenic replied matter-of-factly, tugging her by the hand like a child caught in mischief. He led her along the shadowy side of the palazzo, back toward the walled garden.

She heaved a sigh but gave him little argument, still privately absorbed in the vision of that beautiful, half-wild savage with the piercing midnight eyes.

He had frightened her, yes, with his deadly-looking weapons and his bold stare as if he could see through her clothes, but she had never seen anything like him before.

Magnificent…
beast
, she thought with a shiver as she recalled that powerful bare chest, that ridged belly the very firelight seemed to caress, and all that golden skin, which must feel like velvet to the touch.

Staring at her, insolent as you please, from just across the fire, she mused.

That hostile, hungry stare had left her so flustered and out of sorts that when Domenic found her, she couldn’t think of any good excuse to explain her rattled state, so she just blurted out the truth—a dangerous-looking man had been staring at her and possibly following her.

She wished now she hadn’t said a word.

What if the stranger had not been following her as she feared, or if his intentions had not been unfriendly? She knew the especial brutality of her father’s soldiers. There had been such fierce pride in that hard, chiseled face, it pained her to think of the humiliation the stranger would suffer.

Now, because of her, he was going to be dragged away in front of all the people, that untamed spirit caged, his powerful body beaten into submission. There was something in his dark eyes that haunted her even now, a strange, enigmatic blend of melancholia and hunger and rage. Why had he been staring at her like that?

She didn’t know. She only knew that as soon as she could get rid of Domenic, she would go to the guards and make sure that they weren’t too rough with him and that they were fair when they questioned him. Once they determined what he was up to, she would find out his name. Then, provided he wasn’t a threat, she would make sure they let him go.

Domenic’s words jerked her out of her thoughts.

“You, young lady, I am tempted to turn you over my knee, and, as for your guards, I’m going to have them court-martialed for having failed so completely in their duties—no, better yet, flogged,” he declared as he took out his own set of keys to her father’s house and opened the garden gate. “I’ll have them flogged.”

“Don’t be absurd. You’ll do no such thing,” she retorted. “How can you even suggest anything so barbaric?”

He paused and looked down his pointed nose at her masterfully, one fist cocked on his hip. “Allegra, you don’t seem to understand. If the rebels managed to take you hostage, they could make your father do virtually anything they wanted. If I hadn’t come after you, who knows where you’d be right now?” He held the gate open and, with a polished, sweeping gesture, indicated for her to step in ahead of him.

She could feel the keen gaze of his forest-green eyes on her, scrutinizing her as she brushed by his lean, athletic body. She took a few steps past him into the garden, then turned back to him suddenly.

“Domenic,” she said, “how
did
you know I had gone outside?”

Locking the gate from the inside, he paused, but said nothing.

“When I left the ballroom, I meant to go to my room….” Her voice trailed off.

He turned to her, smiling. “You caught me.”

He dropped the key neatly into his waistcoat pocket, then sauntered toward her, his blond hair a silvery-gold shade that sparkled in the moonlight as he approached.

She glanced a trifle nervously toward the palazzo, then back up at him. “Papa would not approve,” she said uncertainly, though she knew full well Papa thought Domenic walked on water. Domenic had become the son Papa had never had.

“Don’t worry,” he said smoothly. “I locked the veranda doors, dismissed the servants from the back rooms. I even told the guards to take their places elsewhere. You see? I took the liberty of ensuring we’d have perfect privacy.”

“What for?”

“Tut, tut, so suspicious.” He took her hand and led her past the dimly glowing garden lantern under the laurel tree. He plucked one of the blooms, gave it to her, and, smiling in the shadows, maneuvered her back against the slim tree trunk.

She held the flower awkwardly, neither wanting it nor knowing what to do with it as Domenic ran his hands lightly up and down her bare arms.

“Come, Allegra. We are going to be man and wife. You’re going to have to get used to my touch, you know.” He caressed her cheek with the backs of his fingers.

“What a perfectly vulgar thing to say,” she murmured, blushing as she turned her face away. “Isn’t that why a gentleman keeps a mistress?”

“When a man has a wife as beautiful as you, trust me, mistresses are unnecessary. Tonight all I want to do is kiss you. That’s not too much to ask, is it?” His strong hands molded around her shoulders in a firm but gentle caress. “You may find we are more compatible than you have yet suspected.”

“I fear you have had too much to drink, my lord.”

“Not until I drink from your lips will I be sated,” he whispered.

“That was well rehearsed. Did you practice it on your mistress?”

He laughed. “I’ve gotten rid of her, Allegra. Darling, you and I have been engaged for over a month. A man’s entitled to kiss his betrothed.”

“I am not comfortable with this.”

“You will soon be exceedingly comfortable. I assure you.”

He sounded very sure.

“Oh, all right,” she muttered.

He laughed softly again. Then, holding her gently, he lowered his lips to hers. It was not unpleasant, she admitted reluctantly to herself as she waited for him to be done. A long moment passed. He barely moved, brushing his lips against hers.

“Very sweet,” he whispered. He began to kiss her cheek and lower, her neck. His embrace tightened, pulling her up slightly onto her toes.

Hesitantly, Allegra slid her arms around his neck and looked at the starry sky through the laurel tree’s flower-covered branches, wondering how long this was going to take. She liked Domenic, there was no question, but when she dared close her eyes, she thought only of
him
.

Her Prince, who would never kiss her, because he was not real. Ah, well. She didn’t particularly like the idea of any real man pawing her.

Her betrothed began nibbling her earlobe oh-so-gently. That felt rather tolerable, she thought, opening her eyes again, alarmed by the pleasure, even more alarmed when Domenic slid his hands low down her back, inching toward her backside.

She squirmed against him, pushing against his chest. “I think that’s enough.”

“Not nearly enough,” he murmured, a roughened note in his voice. This time when he kissed her, his mouth was hard and hot, his hands holding her in place. He was pressing her back against the tree so hard with his body that she felt the hilt of his dress sword pressing against her.

Then she realized he wasn’t wearing one.

Oh, dear
. She braced both hands against his shoulders.

“Domenic, stop,” she began, only to have him thrust his tongue into her mouth when she parted her lips to speak, both his hands cupping her face.

She had no idea what she was to do.

This is absurd, she thought.

Drunk or no, he was too smart not to see that all she had to do was tell her father about this and the engagement would be over—

She froze.

Of course he knew that. Suddenly she was seized with a diabolical realization. Domenic knew perfectly well she was determined to marry him for his position; therefore, he knew that, do what he may, she would
not
tell her father.

“You shouldn’t have gone out to the square, darling,” he breathed raggedly against her skin, his grip rough. “There are men out there who will insult you, take liberties.” She heard ripping silk as he pulled at her dress and thrust his hand inside, cupping her breast.

“Stop!” She tried to pull away, but he held her against the tree.

One hand lightly bracing her by the throat, the other on her breast, he moved back to smile slightly down at her, green eyes glittering. “Go on, scream. I dare you. Your punishment will be all the sterner when I have you in my house.”

“Punishment?” she breathed, wide-eyed.

“It is a husband’s right, you know. But as long as you’re my good little girl, you’ll have nothing to fear,” he whispered, kissing her again, if his assault could be called a kiss. “What’s wrong?” he asked when she refused to respond, tilting his head as he gazed down at her.

She stared up at him in amazement, still unable to believe it was happening. Surely the straitlaced, impeccable Domenic, the golden boy of the Council, would never do anything like this. But when his grip tightened gently on her throat, she had to accept that it was real. She gritted her teeth, summoning up all her self-possession.

“Get away from me this instant. You are drunk.”

He smiled in his all-knowing way. “You want to use me—why can’t I use you? That’s what marriage is all about, isn’t it?” He kissed her again ruthlessly, nudging her legs apart with his knee.

She fought to turn her face away. “I won’t marry you!” she gasped out.

“Darling,” he panted hotly, his tone perfectly reasonable, “when I’ve spilled my seed inside you, you’ll have no choice.”

She drew a breath to scream as loudly as she possibly could, but he clapped a hand over her mouth with a low, chiding laugh.

“You cannot beat me, you see?” he said pleasantly. “Oh, I shall enjoy mastering you, Allegra. There are so few worthy challenges in life.”

Abruptly he turned as if someone had tapped him on the shoulder.

Allegra gasped to see the savage stranger from the bonfire standing right behind him. He towered above Domenic, hands on hips, his feet planted wide in black boots and gaiters above the knee. He was armed to the white flash of his teeth, his shoulders a yard wide, his black vest parted by his aggressive stance, revealing every smooth inch of his muscled chest and chiseled belly.

“Pardon me for interrupting,” he said politely, his voice deep and commanding, “but I distinctly heard the lady tell you no.”

She caught a glimpse of glittering midnight eyes, then the stranger grabbed Domenic and threw him. Instantly he put his own body between her and Domenic, his broad back to her clad in an expanse of black leather. The long, silky ends of his skullcap trailed down his back, billowing slightly with his graceful walk as he stalked toward Domenic, wielding the most barbaric-looking knife she’d ever seen. The knife twirled lightly in his grasp as he adjusted his grip.

Domenic looked from the stranger to her, to the knife, as he backed away, panting, his blond hair tousled.

“Friend of yours, darling?” he asked, shooting her a cold glance.

“A good friend,” the stranger replied affably before she could answer. “A very good friend.”

Domenic’s angular face took on a look of furious understanding. “Oh, now I see. Now I know why you’re always running off to your filthy peasants!” he spat at her, looking the man over from his skullcap to his boots.

The stranger’s answer to his derision was a big, booming laugh, merry and wicked. The sound actually made Allegra smile a little, shaken though she was. With trembling hands, she righted her dress as best as she could, but Domenic had torn it two or three inches at the neckline. She clutched the ripped edges closed and thanked Providence for sending the mysterious stranger to rescue her before anything worse happened.

“Allegra,” Domenic began, “I am shocked and disappointed in you—”

“Don’t be jealous, mate. I only had her six or seven times.”

Her jaw dropped. She snapped it shut again as she realized he was intentionally trying to enrage Domenic.
Clever rogue
.

“You slept with this man?” Domenic nearly screamed at her.

“And three of my brothers,” he assured him. “She wore us all out. The girl’s insatiable.”

“Now, that is quite enough,” she cut in indignantly.

“I’ll kill you,” Domenic told him.

“All by yourself?” he asked sweetly. “Maybe you’d better call a few guards.”

Torn between outrage and relief, Allegra didn’t know whether to go over and kick him or laugh, but she had to admit his taunting was doing the trick. If her former fiancé had any sense, he would take this chance the stranger had given him to save face and go storming back to his mistress.

But, she discovered, Domenic was too full of liquid courage tonight to take the easy way out—or perhaps there was something to his reputation as a fine swordsman.

Uneasily she watched him pull a jeweled dagger from inside his coat.

The stranger merely smiled and gave his big knife a nimble flick from one hand to the other.

Now that she saw him in action, she was not surprised he’d evaded the guards Domenic had sent. She couldn’t imagine how he had gotten over the garden wall, either. Then again, he didn’t look like a man who would let anything as trifling as a ten-foot brick wall stop him.