The Princess and the Outlaw

Pippa heard a gasp from the doorway and terror rushed through her. “Someone is here,” she said. “We’ve got to get out of here,” she said, stumbling toward the door. Nic helped to steady her as they stepped outside the closet.

Her sisters Bridget and Tina greeted them with furious disapproval stamped on their faces. Pippa inwardly cringed.

“Get away from my sister,” Bridget said.

“That’s for her to say, not you,” Nic said.

“You’re just using her,” Tina said. “You only want her because she can redeem your terrible family name.”

“Not everyone finds my family name reprehensible. Some even respect it,” he said.

“That’s respect you’ve bought with money,” Tina said. “Leave Phillipa alone. You can never be good enough for her. If you have any compassion, you’ll at least protect her reputation by leaving now.”

Nic tightened his jaw. “I’ll leave, but Phillipa will make the ultimate decision about the future of our relationship.” He glanced behind him and met Phillipa’s shocked, pale face. “Ciao, darling. Call me when you get some courage. Some things are meant to be,” he said and strode away.

Chapter One

Seven Months Later

She’d started running for exercise. That was what Pippa told her security detail anyway. She knew the truth. She was running from memories. Memories and the possibility that there was only one man for her and he was the one man she couldn’t have.

“Stop it,” she told herself, staring at the empty beach in front of her. Azure waves dappled onto white sands. By noon, there would be quite a few more bodies enjoying the beach. At six in the morning, however, she was the only one around. She debated turning on some music via her smartphone. She usually welcomed the noise, hoping it would drown out some of her thoughts. Today, she was searching for a little peace. Maybe the sound of the waves would help, she thought, and started out.

One foot in front of the other, she ran for two minutes, then walked for three. It was called interval training and the different paces suited her. Pippa had never been athletic. From the time she’d learned to read, she’d always been happiest with her nose stuck in a book. Her nanny had been relieved because her brothers and most of her sisters had been more demanding in one way or another.

Running again, she inhaled the scent of the salt air. The humidity was low today and she could feel the moisture on her skin begin to evaporate. Slowing after three minutes of running, she took a swig of her water and trudged onward.

Along the shore, in the distance, she spotted a long figure walking. She would wave and be friendly. Pippa was a royal and Chantaine royals were not allowed to be snooty. Other runners might be able to put their blinders and zip past everyone in their path, but not a Devereaux.

As she drew closer, she saw that the figure was that of a woman. Short white hair crowned her head, and a sundress that resembled a nightgown covered her petite frame.

Pippa nodded. “Good morning,” she said.

The woman looked away and stumbled.

Curious, Pippa vacillated as to whether to approach her. Perhaps she was longing for solitude just as Pippa was. The woman stumbled again and Pippa felt a twist of concern. She walked toward the woman. “Pardon me, may I help you?”

The woman shook her head. “No, no. I’m fine. It’s so beautiful here,” she said in a lilting voice that contrasted with the lines on her face and the frailness of her frame.

Something about her seemed familiar, but Pippa couldn’t quite identify it. The woman stumbled again, and Pippa’s concern grew. Was she ill?

“Yes, the beach is lovely. Are you sure I can’t help you? I could walk you back to where you started,” she said. “Or perhaps you would like some water.”

The woman’s face crumpled. “No, no. Please don’t make me go back. Please don’t—” She broke off and collapsed right in front of Pippa.

Alarm shot through her. “Oh, my God!” she exclaimed and bent over the woman. This was one time when she would have loved to have had her security detail close by. Pippa put her arms around the woman and lifted her, surprised by her light weight. Glancing around, she pulled her toward a small stand of palm trees.

Frantic, she held the woman and gently shook her. “Please. Miss. Please.” She spilled water from her bottle onto one of her hands and gently patted the woman’s face. “Please wake up. Please.”

Terrified that the woman was dying, she reached for her cell phone. The woman clearly needed emergency medical attention. Just as she put her finger over the speed dial for her security, the woman blinked her eyes. Huge and full of emotion, her eyes captivated Pippa.

She held her breath. “Are you all right? Please take a few sips of my water. It’s clearly too hot out here for you. I’ll call for help and—”

“No,” the woman said with a strength that surprised Pippa. “Please don’t do that.” Then the woman closed her amazing, mesermizing eyes and began to sob.

The sound wrenched at Pippa. “You must let me help you.”

“There’s only one thing I want,” she said and met Pippa’s gaze again. “I just want to die in Chantaine.”

Pippa gasped. Then a lightning flash of realization rocked through her. She looked at the woman and saw the resemblance of Nic in her eyes. His bone structure was a stronger, more masculine version, but his eyes were all Amelie. “Amelie,” she whispered. “You’re Amelie Lafitte.”

The woman reluctantly nodded. “How do you know?”

“I know your son Nic.” Pippa also knew that Amelie was in the final stages of cancer. Her time was drawing painfully close.

Amelie looked away. “I just wanted a little walk on the beach. I bet he’s quite peeved that I left the yacht.”

Peeved wasn’t the word that came to Pippa’s mind. “I’ll call him for you,” she said.

“Then all my fun will be over,” she said with a cute pout. “He’s such a worrywart.”

Stunned at how quickly Amelie’s spirit had returned, she hesitated a half beat, then dialed his cell. Despite the fact that she’d deleted it from her phone records months ago, every digit was engraved on her brain.

Five minutes later, a black Mercedes came to screeching halt on the curb of the road above the beach. Pippa immediately identified the dark figure exiting the driver’s side of the vehicle. Nic. As he strode swiftly toward her and Amelie, she could see the tension in his frame. Seeing him after all these months set off a visceral response inside her. Her stomach clenched. Her heart beat unevenly.

“Hi, darling,” Amelie said, remaining seated on the sand under the tree as she sipped Pippa’s water. Pippa was still surprised at how quickly the woman had recovered after fainting. “Sorry to be a bother, but I woke up early and I just couldn’t resist the chance to go for a walk on the beach.”

“I would have been happy to walk with you,” Nic said and turned to Pippa. What she wouldn’t give to get a peek behind his dark sunglasses. “Thank you for calling me. I’ll take her back to the yacht now and you can continue your run. I didn’t know you were a runner.”

She felt her face heat with self-consciousness. “I’m more of a combination walker and runner.”

He nodded and glanced back at his mother. “Dad’s beside himself with worry. It was all I could do to keep him from tearing after you.”

“Paul can’t hobble with crutches let alone tear after me with that broken foot of his. The doctor said it will be ten more weeks before he can put any weight on it at all,” she said, then turned her head thoughtfully to the side. “You know what I’m in the mood for? Crepes. There used to be a wonderful café on the edge of town. They made the most delicious crepes.”

“Bebe’s on Oleander,” Pippa said. “It’s still there, and Bebe’s granddaughter helps makes the crepes.”

“Oh,” Amelie said, clasping her hands together. “It’s still there. We must go. And we can bring one back for Paul.” She turned to Pippa. “You must come, too.”

Pippa blinked at the invitation and slid a quick helpless glance at Nic.

“Mother, do you know who Pippa is?” he asked as he extended his hand to help her rise to her feet.

Amelie studied her for a long moment and frowned. “She looks a bit familiar. I can’t quite.” Her eyes widened. “Oh, dear. You’re a Devereaux. I can see it in your eyes and your chin. Oh, dear. This could get a bit messy.”

“Just a little,” Nic said in a wry tone. “But let’s give her the choice. Would you like to join us for crepes, Your Highness?”

Pippa heard the hint of goading challenge in Nic’s voice. She’d heard it before, but it seemed to hold more of an edge than ever. The truth was she didn’t want her photo taken with Nic and his mother. To say it could cause problems was a huge understatement.