The Prince's Stolen Virgin

“As previously mentioned, it is entirely possible that I’m crazy. However, hurling it around like an epithet is hardly going to help.”

She looked up at him, her dark eyes blazing, the confusion from earlier cleared from them. Even now—in a hospital gown—she was beautiful. Though her rich skin tone would be better served in golds, colors like gems. Not the sallow, white and blue cloth her slight curves were currently covered by.

No, he would see her dressed like a queen, which she soon would be. His queen. Once his father died and Felipe assumed the throne.

He had a feeling his father would be distinctly unhappy to know that Felipe had managed to track down the quarry his father had spent so many years searching for. Good thing the old bastard was bound to his bed.

Though, even if he was not, Felipe had the support of the people, and at this point, the support of the military. He supposed considering treason in the form of dispatching his own father was probably not the best course of action.

Though, if the old man was healthier, the likelihood of him considering it would be much higher.

There would be no need to do that. No. Instead, he would bring Talia back to the palace, and he would parade her before his father like a cat might deliver a bird to its master. Except the old king was not Felipe’s master. Not anymore.

He passed the nurse a large stack of US dollars after she helped load the princess into the back of the van he had hired. He would not be paying anyone with anything traceable. No. He wanted all of this to go off without a ripple in the media.

Until he decided to make the tidal wave.

This would be one of his grandest illusions, and he was a master of them. Sleight of hand and other trickery so that he would be consistently underestimated on the world stage. Because it suited him. It suited him endlessly.

Well, that wasn’t true. The end was coming.

Talia was a means to it.

“To the airport,” he said to his driver as the van was secured.

“The airport?” She was sounding quite shrill now.

“Well, we aren’t swimming to Santa Milagro. Not in your condition, anyway.”

“I am not going with you.”

“You are. Though I appreciate your spirit. It’s admirable. Particularly given that you’re currently in a hospital bed. I will have you undergo a preliminary examination before we get on the plane.”

The physician he’d hired moved from his seat over to where Talia was. He proceeded to examine her, taking her blood pressure, looking at her eyes. “You may want to order a CT scan once you get back to your country,” the older man said. If he was feeling any compunction about being involved in this kidnapping, he was hiding it well.

But, considering the amount of money that Felipe was throwing at him, he should hide it well.

“Thank you. I will make sure she has follow-up appointments. I do not want her broken, after all.”

She did not look relieved by that news, though in his opinion she should.

“If you have any integrity at all,” she said, reaching out and grabbing the doctor by the arm, “then you’ll tell somebody where I am. Who I’m with.”

The older man looked away from her, clearly uncomfortable, and withdrew his arm.

“Talia,” Felipe said, “he has been paid too well to offer you any help.”

“You keep calling me Talia. And I’m not Talia. I don’t know who Talia is.”

Well, that was certainly an interesting development. “Whether or not you know who Talia is—and that I question—you are her.”

“I think maybe you’re the one who hit your head,” she said.

“Again, sadly for you, I did not. While I may not be of sound mind, I certainly know my own mind. This... Well, this has been planned for a very long time. You think it accidental that I encountered you on a busy street in New York City? Of course not. The most random of encounters are always carefully orchestrated.”

“By some sort of higher power?” she asked, her tone wry.

“Yes. Me.”

“I have no idea who you are. I have never heard of you, I have never heard of your country, so I can only imagine that it is the size of a grain of rice on a world map. While we’re talking size, I can only assume that plays a factor in a great many things, since you seem to be compensating.”

He chuckled. “If I were not so secure I might be offended by that, querida. Anyway, while I am a believer in the idea that size matters in some arenas, when it comes to world events, often the size of the country is not the biggest issue. It is the motion of the... Well, of the cash flow. The natural resources. And that, my country has in abundance. However, we are going through a few structural changes. You are part of those changes.”

“How can I be part of those changes? I’m a doctor’s daughter. I’m a university student. I don’t have a place on the world stage.”

“And that is where you’re wrong. But we’re not going to finish having this discussion here.”

He had paid the good doctor for his silence, that much was true, but he did not trust anything when a larger payday had the potential to come into play. And when news of Briar Harcourt going missing hit the media, there was a chance that the man would go forward with his story.

That meant that the details revealed in the van needed to be limited. Soon, however, they arrived at the airport, and the vehicle pulled up directly to Felipe’s private plane.

“Don’t we have to go through customs? I don’t have... Well, I don’t have a passport.”

“Darling. You’re traveling with me now. I am your passport. Does she need the IV any longer?” He posed that question to the doctor.

“She shouldn’t,” came the grave reply.

“Then remove it,” Felipe commanded.

The doctor did so, carefully and judiciously, putting a Band-Aid over where the needle had been.

“She is not hooked up to anything else?”

“No,” the doctor replied.

“Excellent.” Felipe reached down, wrapping his arms around Talia and hoisting her up out of the bed. “Good help is all very well and good, but in the end it’s always better to do things yourself.”

She clung to him for a moment, clearly afraid of falling out of his arms and getting another head injury, and continued to hold on to him while he got out of the van and began to stride across the tarmac toward the plane.

And then she began to struggle.

“Please do not make this difficult,” he said, tightening his hold on her, not finding this difficult at all, though he would rather not end up with a bruise if it could be helped. If he was going to be marred, he preferred for it to happen in the bedroom. At least then, there would be a reward for his suffering.

Hell, sometimes the suffering was just part of the reward.

“The point is to make this difficult!”

“I have never had a woman resist getting on my private plane quite so much.”