Betrothed to the Prince

“No thanks.” She turned away, shaking her head, but he moved too quickly for her.

“If someone grabs you, like this,” he said, coming up behind her and sliding his arms in, locking them just beneath her breasts, pulling her close in against him. “What would you do?”

She gasped. His face was next to hers, his breath tantalizing her cheek, his rough day’s growth of beard rasping against her skin. It had all happened so fast, she had to wait a beat or two to make sure she understood just exactly what was going on here.

“You snap back your right elbow and at the same time, you make a turn to the left,” he was advising, his voice silky, so very near her ear.

She could hardly breathe. He was holding her to his long, strong body and she thought she could feel every one of his muscles against her back. Her natural inclination was to do as he said and turn toward the left, but one second of clear thinking and she realized what that meant. She might be in his arms now, but if she followed his instructions she would be in his embrace and in perfect position to be kissed.

A lovely thought—if only she could believe he wasn’t doing this on purpose just to mock her. Which, of course, he was! She steeled herself. She wasn’t going to follow through and fall into his trap. Instead, she made another move her personal defense trainer had taught her and quickly raised her foot, coming down hard on top of his.

He yelled. She pulled out of his grip, whirling to glare at him hotly. Half-laughing, he was hobbling in pain.

“My God, woman, you’re lethal. I was just trying to show you…”

She raised her hands as though to defend herself. “Stay back!” she ordered him.

And at the same time, the cook came bustling in through the outer doorway, her hair damp, her look very cross. She took in the scene at a glance, nodded at Tianna, and glared daggers at the man standing beside her.

“Young mister, you know the rules,” she said sternly, shaking a finger at him. “There’s to be no trifling with the help.” She all but stamped her foot and pointed to show him the way out of her kitchen.

“Trifling?” He glanced at Tianna and shook his head, laughing softly. “Don’t worry. This lady is definitely a no-trifling zone.”

His gaze met hers and held for a moment, then he turned his full charm on the cook.

“That you, of all people, should accuse me of trifling.” He had the confident smile of a man who had used charisma as his currency out of many a sticky situation in his life and was pretty sure it would work for him again, any time he chose to use it. “I was doing no such thing. I was merely keeping a visitor company while waiting for you to return and do your duty by her.”

The cook was still pointing. “If you want to practice your profligate ways, you’ll do so somewhere else,” she insisted. “I’ve got work to do here.”

The handsome charmer reacted with weary resignation.

“Aye aye, Cook.” He gave her a somewhat disjointed salute, then leaned toward her teasingly. “My mentor, my conscience, my guide. As ever, words of wisdom fall from your lips like petals from the rose….”

The cook colored and had a hard time not showing pleasure at his affectionate mockery. “Get on with you.” She swatted at him with a dish towel, but she was beaming in a way that gave full evidence to how much she cared for him. “And keep your crazy poetry to yourself.”

“Hey, watch that talk,” he said as he prepared to depart. “You know I have to maintain my reputation as a soldier. Don’t start spreading that poetry rumor.”

He stopped to drop a quick kiss on the cook’s cheek, then dodged another swipe with the dish towel as he made his way toward the exit. Tianna noted with a twinge of guilty satisfaction that he was limping slightly. He paused in the doorway, looking back.

“Goodbye, lovely lady,” he said to Tianna just before disappearing out the door. “I hope we meet again.” A fleeting smile, and then he was gone.

Tianna thought she’d probably seen the last of him and was disappointed in herself for caring. She had to admit, it would be tempting to let herself get a healthy crush on a man like that, to start thinking about the scent of roses and kisses in the moonlight. The only love affair she’d let herself attempt had ended badly and had seemed hardly worth the effort in the end. She had the feeling things might have been different with a man like this.

“He’s got a heart of gold, that one,” the cook confided once he was out of the room. “But he does tease so.”

Tianna smiled, her pulse still reacting to the man’s presence in the room. “Is he your son?”

The cook looked shocked. “My son? Heaven’s no. My dear, don’t you know who that is? Why, it’s Prince Garth, that’s who.”

Chapter Two

Tianna felt the room fade and pulse, and she barely avoided a gasp. “Prince Garth!” She put her hand over her heart. “But…but the little maid told me the prince had gone to Texas.”

“Oh, aye. She thought you meant Crown Prince Marco, no doubt about it. He was here last week.” She began to bustle about the kitchen. “No one thinks of Garth as ‘the prince.’ He’s always been the younger brother, you know. The rascal. The charming one.” She grinned affectionately.

Tianna sat, still dumbfounded, and growing more and more astonished as she thought over this latest wrinkle. So the man they expected her to marry really was a playboy and a carouser. Delightfully irresistible—and the last man in the world a woman would want to be married to. Hah! Just wait until she explained all this to her father. It looked like she would be able to put together a nice tight case for annulling this betrothal. And wasn’t that what she’d come for?

Actually, it was getting hard to remember what she’d come for. Too much was getting in the way.

The cook had turned back and was frowning down at her. “Well, now about your business. Come about the pastry chef job, have you? We weren’t expecting you quite this soon, but that’s all right. We’ll make do.”

Tianna turned to tell her the truth, but she was rattling on.

“Now, let’s see a bit of your talent. I’ve got some dough mixed for pies. Why don’t you roll it out and we’ll see what you can do with it. Try something creative.”

“I’m really not here for the pastry chef job.”

“No?”

“No. I’m…”

It was going to be hard to explain what she was here for at this point—and why she hadn’t talked to Garth when she had a chance. Her day was careening wildly out of control. It was probably time she made herself known to everyone and tried to get some order back into things. “Actually, you see, I’m Princess Katianna of…”

Unfortunately, her words were drowned out by the sudden wail of the infant. The cook whirled and stared at the basket on the table.

“A baby!” Cook’s gaze fell on the basket. “Ah yes, Milla said you’d brought your baby. We really don’t have facilities for babies here. You should have asked first, you know.”

Tianna considered tearing her hair out, but thought better of it. “She’s not my baby,” she said evenly. “I found her in the yard.”

Cook rolled her eyes. “What nonsense,” she said, and bent over the little thing, cooing to it.

Tianna bit her lip and silently counted to ten, then drew herself up and gazed coolly at the woman. “I assure you, I’m telling the truth.”

Cook glanced up and seemed to recognize her growing irritation. “Well, that’s as may be. But then where did this baby come from?”

Good question. If only someone would answer it! Stifling the urge to scream, Tianna gave her a quick explanation of how the estate had been left unguarded and open to the world when she’d arrived. The cook finally seemed to accept that, though reluctantly.

“Oh yes, we’re so shorthanded right now, things are falling to wrack and ruin,” she said, shaking her head. “You know, they usually leave their babies at the guard gate. We never even see them up here. And you say you found her right out in the garden?”

Tianna frowned. “Are you telling me strange babies show up here all the time?” she asked.

Cook shrugged. “Well, not all the time. But it’s been known to happen. Single girls hoping we’ll take the tykes in and raise them as royals. Surely you know about the legend of Baby Rose. It’s an old Nabotavian story.”

She didn’t, but she wasn’t in the mood for a story right now. “You think this one was left by a desperate young girl?” she asked, looking down at the dewy little face and wishing she didn’t feel such a strong emotional pull every time she did so. The baby was starting to fuss again and she pulled it up into her arms without thinking twice, patting her little back and whispering sweet nothings against her silky head.

“No doubt about it.” The cook turned and spoke to the kitchen maid. “Milla, call the orphanage. Tell them we’ll be sending another baby over.”

Tianna looked up, frowning. She hated to think of letting this little angel go. “Don’t you think we should call the police? And perhaps, Children’s Services?”