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

“But you won’t.”

Suddenly, a surge of adrenaline gave her the spunk she needed to pull away from his touch, and once she was on her own, she felt emboldened again.

“Dare me!” she said, glaring at him with her hands on her hips.

He stared back at her for a long moment, then a slow grin spread over his handsome face. “I may be careless at times, my darling, but I’m not foolhardy. Even I know better than to challenge you like that.”

The entry gong sounded. She sighed, all the fight ebbing out of her. “Just stay out of sight,” she warned him. “I’ll check in on you one last time before I go to the ball.” She gave him a look of chagrin. “Unless, of course, you’ve left by then.” She shrugged. “But I guess I won’t hold my breath over that one.”

He nodded. “Wise woman,” he murmured as he watched her go. Then he slipped into her bedroom and closed the door before she’d let the hairdresser into the compound.

It was a beautiful room. The bedding was thick and luxurious, the headboard beautifully carved. Large oils of ancient landscapes, painted by masters of centuries past, covered the walls. He wondered what they had done with all the old portraits of his ancestors. Burned them, probably. Just another reason he needed his revenge.

But that was a matter to come. Right now he needed sleep.

He sat on the edge of her bed and looked at her bedside table, wondering what she was reading these days. What he saw gave him a bit of a jolt.

Beginning Pregnancy 101.

Interesting. It would seem Pellea was already thinking about having children. With Leonardo? That gave him a shudder. Surely she wasn’t hoping to have a baby in order to reassure her father. That would be a step too far. And if she just had a yen for children, why choose Leonardo to have them with?

Making a face, he pushed the subject away. It was too depressing to give it any more attention.

He lay down on her sumptuous bed and groaned softly as he thought of the times he’d spent here. Two months ago everything had seemed so clean and simple. A hungry man. A soft and willing woman. Great lovemaking. Good food. Luxurious surroundings. What could be better? He’d come back thinking it would all be easy to recreate. But he’d been dead wrong.

The wall clock struck the quarter hour again and tweaked a memory. There had been a huge, ancient grandfather clock in his mother’s room when he was a child. There was a carved wooden tiger draped around the face of the timepiece and it had fascinated him. But even as he thought of that, he remembered that his mother had kept copies of her jewelry in a secret compartment in that clock.

What a strange and interesting castle this was. There were secret compartments and passageways and hiding places of all kinds just about everywhere. A few hundred years of the need to hide things had spurred his ancestors into developing ingenious and creative places to hide their most precious objects from the prying eyes and itching fingers of the servants and even of the courtiers. Life in the castle was a constant battle, it seemed, and it probably wasn’t much different now.

Looking around Pellea’s room, he wondered how many secret places had been found, and how many were still waiting, unused and unopened, after all these years. He knew of one, for sure, and that was the passageway that had brought him here twice now. He was pretty sure no one else had used it in twenty-five years. What else would he find if he tapped on a few walls and pressed on a few pieces of wood trim? It might be interesting to find out.

Later. Right now he needed a bit of sleep. Closing his eyes, he dreamed of Pellea and their nights together. He slept.

Pellea stood looking down at Monte, her heart so full of love, she had to choke back the tears that threatened. Tears would ruin her makeup and that was the last thing she would have been able to handle right now. She was on the edge of an emotional storm as it was.

Everyone had gone. She’d even sent the two men who were supposed to guard the tiara out into the hall to wait for her. And now she was ready to go and make the announcement that would set in stone her future life and that of her baby. But she needed just one more moment to look at the man she loved, the man she wished she were planning to marry.

If only they had met in another time, another place. If only circumstances were different. They could have been so happy together, the two of them. If there was no royalty for him to fight for, if her father was still as hale and hearty as he’d been most of her life, if her place weren’t so precarious that she needed it bolstered by marrying Leonardo…

There were just too many things that would have to be different in order for things to work out the way they should, and for them to have a happy life. Unfortunately that didn’t seem to be in the cards for her.

As for him—oh, he would get over it. He would never know that the baby she would have in a few months was really his. He was the only man she’d ever loved, but she had been very careful not to tell him that. She was pretty sure he’d had romances of one kind or another for years. It wouldn’t be that hard for him. There would always be beautiful and talented women ready to throw themselves at him in a heartbeat.

Of course, if he did do as he threatened and try to take his country back by force, the entire question would be moot and they might all have to pay the ultimate price. Who knew?

In the meantime, she wanted just a moment more to watch him and dream….

When he woke an hour or so later, she was standing at the side of the bed. His first impression was benignness, but by the time he’d cleared his eyes, her expression had changed and she was glaring down at him.

“I don’t know why you’re still here,” she said a bit mournfully. “Please don’t get yourself killed while I’m at the ball.”

He stretched and looked up at her sleepily. She was dressed to the hilt and the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. His mother’s tiara had been worked into a gorgeous coiffure that made her look as regal as any queen. Her creamy breasts swelled just above the neckline of her gown in old-fashioned allure. The bodice was tight, making her waist look tiny, as though he could reach out and pick her up with his two hands and pull her down.

His mouth went dry with desire and he reached for her. Deftly, she sidestepped his move and held him at bay.

“Don’t touch,” she warned. “I’m a staged work of art right now and I’m off to the photographer for pictures.”

A piece of art was exactly what she was, looking just as she appeared before him. She could have walked right out of a huge portrait by John Singer Sargent, burnished lighting and rich velvet trimmings and all.

He sighed, truly pained. She looked good enough to ravish. But then she always did, didn’t she?

“Forget the ball,” he coaxed, though he knew it was all for naught. “Stay here with me. We’ll lock the gate and recreate old times together.”

“Right,” she said, dismissing that out of hand, not even bothering to roll her eyes. She had other things on her mind right now. “The pictures will take at least an hour, I’m sure. Leonardo will meet me there and we’ll go directly to the ball.”

He frowned, feeling grumpy and overlooked for the moment. “Unless he has an unfortunate accident before he gets there,” he suggested.

She looked at him sharply. “None of that, Monte. Promise me.”

He stretched again and pouted. “When do you plan to make the big announcement?” he asked instead of making promises he might not be able to keep.

She frowned. “What does that matter?” she asked.

He grinned. “You are so suspicious of my every mood and plan.”

Her eyes flashed. “With good reason, it seems.”

He shrugged. “So I won’t see you again until later?”

“No. Unless you decide to go away. As you should.” She hesitated. She needed to make a few thing clear to him. He had to follow rules or she was going to have to get the guard to come help her keep him in line.

Right. That was a great idea. She made a face at herself. She was truly caught in a trap. She needed to keep him in line, but in order to do that, she would be signing his death warrant. There was no way that was going to happen.

At the same time, he showed no appreciation for the bind she was in. If he didn’t feel it necessary to respect the rules she made, she couldn’t have him here. He would have to understand that.

Taking a deep breath, she gave him the facts as she needed them to be.

“Once the announcement is made, our engagement will be official and there will be no more of anything like this,” she warned him, a sweep of her hand indicating their entire relationship. “You understand that, don’t you?”

His eyes were hooded as he looked up at her. “I understand what you’re saying,”

“Monte, please don’t do anything. You can’t. I can’t let you. Please have some respect.”

His slow, insolent smile was his answer. “I would never do anything to hurt you.”

She stared at him, then finally did roll her eyes. “Of course not. Everything you do would be for my own good, wouldn’t it?”

There was no escaping the tone of sarcasm in her voice. She sighed with exasperation and then the expression in her eyes changed. She hesitated. “Will you be gone?” she asked.