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

“I’m sorry,” she said quickly, reaching for him and putting a hand on his upper arm. “I’m sorry that I have to wear your mother’s tiara. They’ve asked me to do it and I said yes.”

He covered her hand with his own and turned toward her. She recognized the light in his eyes and knew he wanted to kiss her. Her pulse raced, but she couldn’t let it happen. Quickly, she pulled away.

He sighed, shaking his head in regret, but his mind was still on something else.

“Where is it?” he asked, looking around the wardrobe. “Where do you keep it?”

“The tiara?” She searched his eyes. What was he thinking? “It’s in its case in the museum room, where it always is. Didn’t you hear Sergeant Fromer? The guards will bring it to me just before I leave for the ball. And they will accompany me to the ballroom. The tiara is under guard at all times.”

He nodded, eyeing her speculatively. “And so shall you be, once you put it on.”

“I imagine so.”

He nodded again, looking thoughtful. “I was just reading an article about it the other day,” he said, half musing. “Diamonds, rubies, emeralds, all huge and of superior quality. Not to mention the wonderful craftsmanship of the tiara itself. It’s estimated to be worth more than some small countries are.”

Suddenly she drew her breath in. She hadn’t known him long, but she was pretty sure she knew a certain side of him all too well.

“Oh, no you don’t!” she cried, all outrage.

He looked at her in surprise. “What?”

She glared at him. “You’re thinking about grabbing it, aren’t you?”

“The tiara?” He stared at her for a moment and then he threw his head back and laughed. That was actually a fabulous idea. He liked the way she thought.

“Pellea,” he said, taking her by the shoulders and dropping a kiss on her forehead. “You are perfection itself. You can’t marry Leonardo.”

She shivered. She couldn’t help it. His touch was like agony and ecstasy, all rolled into one. But she kept her head about her.

“Who shall I marry then?” she responded quickly. “Are you ready to give me an offer?”

He stared at her, not responding. How could he say anything? He couldn’t make her an offer. He couldn’t marry her. And anyway, he might be dead by the end of the summer.

Besides, there was another factor. If he was going to be ruler of Ambria, could he marry the daughter of his family’s biggest betrayer? Not likely.

“I think kidnapping will work out better,” he told her, and he wasn’t joking.

She’d known he would say that, or something similar. She knew he was attracted to her. That, he couldn’t hide. But she was a realist and she also knew he hated her father and the current regime with which she was allied. How could it be any other way? He could talk about taking her with him all he wanted, she knew there was no future for her there.

“I’ll fight you all the way,” she said flatly.

He smiled down into her fierce eyes. “There’s always the best option, of course.”

“And what is that?”

“That you come with me willingly.”

She snorted. “Right. Before or after I marry Leonardo?”

He looked pained. “I can’t believe you’re serious.”

She raised her chin and glared at him. “I am marrying Leonardo in four days. I hope.”

He brushed the stray hairs back off her cheek and his fingers lingered, caressing her silken skin. “But why?” he asked softly.

“Because I want to,” she responded stoutly. “I’ve promised I will do it and I mean to keep that promise.”

Resolutely, she turned away from him and began searching through a clothes rack, looking for the clothes she meant to change into.

He came up behind her. “Is it because of your father?”

She whirled and stared at him. “Leave my father out of this.”

“Ah-hah. So it is your father.”

She turned back to searching through the hangers. He watched her for a moment, thinking that he’d never known a woman whose movements were so fluid. Every move she made was almost a part of a dance. And watching her turned him on in ways that were bound to cripple his ability to think clearly. He shook his head. He couldn’t let that happen, not if he wanted to succeed here.

“Leonardo,” he scoffed. “Please. Why Leonardo?”

Unconsciously, she cupped her hand over her belly. There was a tiny baby growing inside. He must never know that. He was the last person she could tell—ever. “It’s my father’s fondest wish.”

“Because he might become ruler of Ambria?”

“Yes.” How could she deny it? “And because he asked.”

That set him back a moment. “What if I asked?” he ventured.

She turned to him, but his eyes showed nothing that could give her any hope. “Ah, but you won’t, will you?”

He looked away. “Probably not.”

“There’s your answer.”

“Where is Georges?” he asked, naming the Granvilli who had killed his parents. “What does he say about all this?”

She hesitated, choosing her words carefully. “The General seems to be unwell right now. I’m not sure what the specific problem is, but he’s resting in the seaside villa at Grapevine Bay. Leonardo has been taking over more and more of the responsibilities of power himself.” She raised her head and looked him squarely in the eye. “And the work seems to suit him.”

“Does it? I hope he’s enjoying himself. He won’t have much longer to do that, as I intend to take that job away from him shortly.”

She threw up her hands, not sure if he meant it or if this was just typical male bombast. “What exactly do you mean to do?” she asked, trying to pin him down.

He looked at her and smiled, coming closer, touching her hair with one hand.

“Nothing that you need to worry about.”

But his thoughts were not nearly as sanguine as he pretended. She really had no conception of how deep his anger lay and how his hatred had eaten away at him for most of his life. Ever since that night when the castle had burned and his parents were murdered by the Granvilli clan. Payment was due. Retribution was pending.

“Is your father really very ill?” he asked quietly.