Crown Prince, Pregnant Bride! / Valentine Bride: Crown Prince, Pregnant Bride! / Valentine Bride

He kicked a little side panel, more in frustration than hope, and the door began to creak open. “It’s always the ones you don’t suspect,” he said, laughing.

The small room inside was unprepossessing, having space only for a computer and a small table. And there on the screen was access to views of practically every public area, all over the castle. A secret room with centralized power no one else knew about. Ingenious.

Still, someone had built it. Someone had wired it. Someone had to know electronics were constantly running in here. The use of electricity alone would tip off the suspicious. So someone in the workings of the place was on her side.

But what was “her side” exactly? That was something he still had to find out.

The sound of Pellea’s entry gong made him jerk. He lifted his head and listened. A woman’s voice seemed to be calling out, and then, a moment later, singing. She’d obviously come into the courtyard.

Moving silently, he made his way out of the secret room, closing the door firmly. He moved carefully into the dressing area, planning to use the high wardrobe as a shield as he had done earlier, in order to see who it was without being seen. As he came out of the closet and made his way to slip behind the tall piece of furniture, a pretty, pleasantly rounded young woman stepped into the room, catching sight of him just before he found his hiding place.

She gasped. Their gazes met. Her mouth opened. He reached out to stop her, but he was too late.

She screamed at the top of her lungs.

CHAPTER FOUR

MONTE MOVED LIKE LIGHTNING but it felt like slow motion to him. In no time his hand was over the intruder’s mouth and he was pulling her roughly into the room and kicking the French door closed with such a snap, he was afraid for a moment that the glass would crack.

Pulling her tightly against his chest, he snarled in her ear, “Shut the hell up and do it now.”

She pulled her breath into her lungs in hysterical gasps, and he yanked her more tightly.

“Now!” he demanded.

She closed her eyes and tried very hard. He could feel the effort she put into it, and he began to relax. They waited, counting off the seconds, to see if anyone had heard the scream and was coming to the rescue. Nothing seemed to stir. At last, he decided the time for alarm was over and he began to release her slowly, ready to reassert control if she tried to scream again.

“Okay,” he whispered close to her ear. “I’m going to let go now. If you make a sound, I’ll have to knock you flat.”

She nodded, accepting his terms. But she didn’t seem to have any intention of a repeat. As he freed her, she turned, her gaze sweeping over him in wonder.

“Wait,” she said, eyes like saucers. “I’ve seen you before. You were here a couple of months ago.”

By now, he’d recognized her as well. She was Pellea’s favorite maid. He hadn’t interacted with her when he’d been here before, but he’d seen her when she’d dropped by to deal with some things Pellea needed done. Pellea had trusted her to keep his presence a secret then. He only hoped that trust was warranted—and could hold for now.

But signs were good. He liked the sparkle in her eyes. He gave her a lopsided smile. “I’m back.”

“So I see.” She cocked her head to the side, looking him over, then narrowing her gaze. “And is my mistress happy that you’re here?”

He shrugged. “Hard to tell. But she didn’t throw anything at me.”

Her smile was open-hearted. “That’s a good sign.”

He drew in a deep breath, feeling better about the situation. “What’s your name?” he asked.

“Pellea calls me Kimmee.”

“Then I shall do the same.” He didn’t offer his own name and wondered if she knew who he was. He doubted it. Pellea wouldn’t be that reckless, would she?

“I’ve been here for a couple of hours now,” he told her. “Pellea has seen me. We’ve been chatting, going over old times.”

Kimmee grinned. “Delightful.”

He smiled back, but added a warning look. “I’m sure you don’t talk about your mistress’s assignations to others.”

“Of course not,” she said brightly. “I only wish she had a few.”

He blinked. “What do you mean?”

She shrugged, giving him a sly look. “You’re the only one I know of.”

He laughed. She had said the one thing that would warm his heart and she probably knew it, but it made him happy anyway.

“You’re not trying to tell me your mistress has no suitors, are you?” he teased skeptically.

“Oh, no, of course not. But she generally scorns them all.”

He looked at her levelly. “Even Leonardo?” he asked.

She hesitated, obviously reluctant to give her candid opinion on that score. He let her off the hook with a shrug.

“Never mind. I know she’s promised to him at this point.” He cocked an eyebrow. “I just don’t accept it.”

She nodded. “Good,” she whispered softly, then shook her head as though wishing she hadn’t spoken. Turning away, she reached for the ball gown hanging in front of the wardrobe. “I just came by to check that the gown was properly hung and wrinkle-free,” she said, smoothing the skirt a bit. “Isn’t it gorgeous?”

“Yes, it is.”

“I can’t wait to see her dancing in this,” Kimmee added.

“Neither can I,” he murmured, and at the same time, an idea came to him. He frowned, wondering if he should trust thoughts spurred on by his overwhelming desire for all things Pellea. It was a crazy idea, but the more he mulled it over, the more he realized it could serve more than one purpose and fit into much of what he hoped to accomplish. So why not give it a try?

He studied the pretty maid for a moment, trying to evaluate just how much he dared depend on her. Her eyes sparkled in a way that made him wonder how a fun-loving girl like this would keep such a secret. He knew he had better be prepared to deal with the fallout, should there be any. After all, he didn’t have much choice. Either he would tie her up and gag her and throw her into a closet, or he would appeal to her better nature.

“Tell me, Kimmee, do you love your mistress?”

“Oh, yes.” Kimmee smiled. “She’s my best friend. We’ve been mates since we were five years old.”

He nodded, frowning thoughtfully. “Then you’ll keep a secret,” he said. “A secret that could get me killed if you reveal it.”

Her eyes widened and she went very still. “Of course.”

His own gaze was hard and assessing as he pinned her with it. “You swear on your honor?”

She shook her head, looking completely earnest. “I swear on my honor. I swear on my life. I swear on my…”

He held a hand up. “I get the idea, Kimmee. You really mean it. So I’m going to trust you.”

She waited, wide-eyed.