Royal Protocol Page 8
“I spent a lot of time alone as a child. My brother didn’t come into the picture until I was ten,” she said against his back.
“And your parents?” He was familiar with her professional accomplishments, but her private life had always been kept studiously private.
She didn’t respond immediately. “I never knew my father.”
He rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand.
“My mom wasn’t home a lot.”
“So who watched you?”
Another stretch of silence. “I watched myself.”
Which didn’t entirely explain why she would be afraid of the dark. The thoughts that came into his head made his blood run cold. He covered her hands with his. “Has someone hurt you?”
“No, of course not.” The response came too quickly.
“I’m a prince. I have resources.”
“I’m sure you do. But I’m hardly a damsel in distress.”
No, she wasn’t. Not even in this situation. She took the turn of events with a calm maturity and strength. They were in this together. As much as he wanted to, he wasn’t exactly protecting and saving her.
“Too bad. I’d like to dash to the rescue, then claim my prize,” he teased in an effort to relax her.
“I always knew all those princely rescues were just a means to an end.”
“You bet.” He grinned to himself. “I wish I could save you from the darkness, but it’s too risky to turn on the flashlight.”
“I’m fine.”
Silence stretched between them for a while, before she said, “We didn’t always have money to pay bills. There were times when we had no power for months at a time.”
Home alone in a dark apartment, probably in the worst part of town—people who couldn’t pay the power bill didn’t normally live in mansions. The picture was starting to come together.
“That’s when I started to sing. Just to hear my own voice. Singing kept me company. I used to sing till I passed out from exhaustion. I didn’t even mind when the people in the other apartments banged on the wall. It was the most attention anyone ever paid to me.” She caught herself. “Sorry. I’m starting a pity party. I’m tired.” She drew a deep breath that pressed her breasts even tighter against his back.
He’d been acutely aware that she wasn’t wearing a bra. The image of that palace photo on her T-shirt stretched across her breasts was burned into his brain. One of her nipples protruded right in his bedroom window, the other in the library.
Damn—the library of all places. Just thinking of it had the power to make him horny. The library was where, at age fourteen, a maid had asked him if he wanted to see her bare breasts. Of course, with time, that led to other things…He’d been a very inquisitive and adventurous young prince.
He found it difficult to think that far back when Rayne’s soft body was pressed to his. Now if Rayne wanted to show him something…He shifted. He needed to get his mind away from things that weren’t going to happen tonight for sure.
He forced his thoughts back to what they were talking about. “I thought you were discovered young?” He’d pictured her youth spent in fame and fortune similar to his own.
“At nine. A lot of things can happen to a little girl before the age of nine.” There was a catch in her voice.
A long moment passed while he digested that.
He was going to have to kill someone. There it was. He’d killed in battle, in the rebel uprising last year, but that didn’t come from a calculated decision. That thought and feeling was new to him, and the sure knowledge that he could be capable of it took him by surprise.
He would know what happened. He would have names. Then he would take care of it. As soon as they got out of here. But now was not the time to push her further into her dark memories. This was the time to comfort her.
He turned as much as he could, scooped her up and tried to pull her over. She resisted.
“See that black plastic box with the holes in it over there?”
“What’s that?”
“A rat trap.”
She was sitting on his lap the next second, her feet pulled up, her arms around his neck. She glared through the darkness. “You play dirty.”
“True, but don’t you feel better?” He folded his arms securely around her. He shuffled back until he could lean against the wall. “I’ll watch you sleep. Relax.”
The rebels in the other room were snoring up a storm. The sound echoed in the catacombs, along with the music. Those guys were dead to the world for now. He and Rayne could afford to relax for a minute.
She let out a low, ironic chuckle. “I’m sitting on a prince’s lap.”
Yeah, he was pretty aware of that. Enjoying it. But they were cramped. “Not enough room?”
“Plenty of room. Just having trouble with relaxing.”
“I’m relaxed,” he lied through his teeth.
“Incorrigible.”
“On the contrary. I’m the youngest prince. Compared to some of my brothers, I’m all innocence. Butter would not melt in my mouth, in fact.”
“Does anyone ever fall for that?”
“Are you falling for it?”
“Please.”
“One of the things I like about you is that you’re an exceedingly intelligent woman.”
She stiffened and drew away a little.
“You had to know that I liked you.”
She pulled away some more. “I’m not that kind of a singer.”
“I never assumed you were.”
“Your attention is flattering, but—”
“Not that,” he cut her off. “I don’t want the form letter.”
“I’ve had a couple of bad relationships. I had a bad marriage.”
“Not with me.”
She shifted. “Prince takes singer as lover. Isn’t that a cliché?”
“I haven’t taken you as a lover yet,” he reminded her darkly.
“So you meant you like me as a friend?” Her voice had that all-men-want-the-same-thing undertone.
“I want you every way possible, Rayne.” And just thinking of having her had the power to make his body respond. Again.
“I’m not Valtrian. I’m divorced. I’m much older than you are. Are you looking for a scandal?”
“All those excuses are inconsequential,” he said, while knowing they weren’t. A price would have to be paid. And not only by him personally. A scandal in these politically volatile times could shake the monarchy that was shaky enough at the moment. But he had a hard time considering that with Rayne sitting on his lap.
“So you’re not going to accept any reasonable objection?”
“Just one.”
She waited in silence.
He reached out to cradle her face in his palms, wishing he could see the expression in her eyes. Her catching her breath did give him some clue. He dipped his head to hers and kissed her.
HIS LIPS WERE FIRM, WARM and seeking. The heat that flooded her in response shook her. She’d thought she would have no trouble at all resisting him, and yet here she was, leaning into the kiss, bracing her hands on his wide chest. Just a moment longer. Because it had been a terribly long time since anyone had made her feel this way, if ever.
They were trapped underground with murderers hunting for them. Without him, she would have been freaking out all over the place. If this were to be the last kiss she ever shared with a man, what could a few more seconds hurt?
He coaxed every nerve ending in her body alive by just his lips touching hers. He was gentle but persistent. He was possibly the best kisser in the universe. When he pulled away, she wasn’t ready for it yet.
He held her by her shoulders, silently, as if he were waiting for something. What? A response? She couldn’t remember what they’d been talking about.
Oh, right. “What’s the one reason you would accept for not wanting to go into this madness?” she asked.
“That you don’t want me.”
Well, she’d fallen for tha
t trap. Couldn’t very well claim that, could she, now that she’d kissed him back like a starving woman?
“Nothing to say?”
She had plenty, but raising her voice was out of the question and most of what she wanted to say would have lost half its effectiveness in a whisper. “There’s more to life than wanting.”
“Not at this moment.”
Stubborn. Probably all princes were stubborn. Used to getting what they wanted. No surprise there. “I don’t want a high-profile, lurid affair that’ll be fodder for the tabloids.”
“Tell me what you want.”
He was good. Smooth as anything. They’d known each other for a day. She’d been adamant about not becoming another rich man’s mistress, and here they were, with him having talked her halfway into it already. She had underestimated him. But maybe he had underestimated her as well.
“You barely know me.” It was a perfectly sensible objection. He couldn’t argue with that.
“I’ve followed your career.”
She groaned. There was no shortage of fans who thought they knew her intimately just because they’d been to a show and read articles about her in the papers. She’d gotten dozens of marriage offers from them after her divorce had been made public. She had expected a little more from the prince.
She wished she could move away from him, but the space didn’t allow for much positioning. “You know nothing about me beyond the media. Why would you think that we would work together?”
“You know nothing about me beyond the media. Why would you think that we wouldn’t?”
He was infuriatingly good at this.
“It doesn’t have to be complicated. It can be simple,” he whispered against her cheek.
“Simple how?”
“Like this,” he said, and kissed her again.
He really had to stop. She couldn’t think when he kept kissing her like that. She realized that he had a point to make, but so did she. He was proving that he could make her want him. She was trying to prove that she could resist. She was failing miserably. She hated to fail.
Trouble was, she liked his kisses more than she hated failure. Which was very, very disconcerting.
She pulled her head back at last, the move necessitating considerable willpower. “It’s not the right place or the right time.”
“It might be the only time we have. I want you.”
She felt that. Hard to miss when she was sitting on his lap. She squirmed. Made the problem worse. Forced herself to sit still as heat washed over her face. “You can’t be serious. Right now?”
“Pretty much anytime, anywhere.”
She could tell from his voice that he was grinning. She really needed to get off his lap, but there was no place to go. “You can’t just spring something like this on a person,” she said in a furious whisper. God save her from randy young princes.
“Would you have preferred if I left things unsaid and instead tried to manipulate you into my bed? Maybe bribe you with jewels?”
“Truthfully, no.” She actually liked his straightforward manner. And she didn’t want to like anything about him. If she were smart, she would have hung on to her initial dislike of him, even if it had been prejudiced and unreasonable. He was driving her crazy.
“So you do like the way I’m handling this?” He slid his arms around her waist.
“No!” She swatted at him, wishing she could raise her voice. Sounding forbidding while having to whisper was no easy task.
“I think you like me.” His voice had a smile in it again, and more than a twinge of surprise.
“No!”
He pulled her against him. Heat immediately spread through her body. She needed to resist him.
His large hand ran up her side.
Her breath quickened.
She was doomed.
And he was a first-rate cad. She couldn’t believe that he was trying to seduce her under the circumstances, with mortal danger a few feet away. They were in some storage room for heaven’s sake, within shouting distance of a band of murderous rebels. And here he was, trying to—
She couldn’t believe that she was even considering it.
When he dipped his head, she held her breath.
“You do like me,” he whispered. “And I think you want me as much as I want you. You’ll have plenty of time to get used to the idea later, when we get out of here,” he told her. “We’ll have plenty of time to spend together. Now rest.”
She waited.
He didn’t say anything more.
He didn’t do anything more.
Oh, for heaven’s sake. This was it? He was telling her to go to sleep right after making her think that he was about to seduce her right here and now?
“Princes,” she murmured against his collarbone as she tucked her head under his chin. “You can’t make them see reason, you can’t shoot them.”
A low chuckle shook his impressive chest.
Oh, that he had the gall to laugh at her. “Once we get out of these godforsaken catacombs, I hope never to see you again, Your Highness.” She added the formality at the end to drive the point home.
“I suppose you could keep your eyes closed, but it won’t be as much fun,” he responded.
Her head came up, but she couldn’t make out the expression on his face. “What are you talking about?”
His arms tightened around her. “As soon as we get out of the catacombs, I’m planning to make love to you, Madam.”
Chapter Six
Benedek woke to voices in the other room and put his hand over Rayne’s mouth before he kissed the tip of her ear to wake her. She’d been soft and yielding in his arms for the few hours that she slept. A shame she wasn’t like that when awake. She didn’t like to let her defenses down.
She woke and stiffened when she remembered where they were.
“Good morning,” he whispered in her ear, and wished the rebels to hell. He wished they could be like this someplace else, alone and away from danger, their bodies molded together.
“Plan B is ready to go,” the familiar voice said in the room next to theirs, as if to drive that point home.
“The entrance was found?” another man asked with deference.
Clearly, the other guy was some sort of leader. Trouble was, Benedek couldn’t see him at all from where he hid. The Freedom Council had three leaders, identities unknown. All three were rich, possibly leaders of industry, with enough money to finance two rebellions in as many years.
This guy could be one of those three, or someone who reported to them. Someone Benedek had met before. More than once.
If only he could put a face to that voice, he’d have a name.
“An entrance straight into the palace. Five years of hard work, but it’s been worth it,” the man boasted.
“When?”
“Tomorrow night.”
“And the opera?”
“Security forces took back the building, led by the damn princes. And we couldn’t get a single one of them. We didn’t even get the chance to detonate the last bomb.” He sounded mad enough to spit. “We’ve suffered some losses.”
Somber silence followed, even as Benedek’s heart lightened.
“What do we need to do next?” another voice asked.
“Make room for more men. We’ll be entering the tunnel system and making our way to the palace through here. We’ll get Their Highnesses yet.”
Benedek pulled back. The palace was about to come under attack, and not only had he no way of warning his family, but Rayne and he were about to be discovered.
He looked through the gap at the men. Even if he could grab two and switch clothes, both his face and Rayne’s were instantly recognizable. Everyone knew them; it wasn’t as if they could pass for some anonymous rebel.
He waited until the leader came out of the room. With the light behind him, Benedek couldn’t see his face. The man walked into one of the tunnel openings. That had to be the one that led above ground. If only there were
a way to go after him.
He looked at Rayne in his arms, her eyes still sleepy-soft, a vulnerable curve to her mouth. She hadn’t had a chance to put on her armor yet for the day. But she had to and soon.
He came up into a crouch and helped her to do the same. Maybe they could go after the guy. It all depended on how soon those extra men would be sent down. Maybe not immediately since the attack was planned for tomorrow night. If they could sneak up somehow…The move was risky, but no riskier than staying down here and waiting to be discovered.
Their only other option was to find the tunnel that led straight to the palace. But since it’d taken the guy five years of concentrated search and a number of men to find it, Benedek wasn’t optimistic that he and Rayne would come across it within the next thirty-six hours by accident.
“We have to move,” he mouthed to her.
“How?” she mouthed back.
He nodded as he took off his shoes and motioned to her to do the same. Then he signaled her to stay, and picked up his cell phone, the one thing he could sacrifice at the moment. They still had need of the flashlight and the gun. He moved back into the room that held the crates of ammunition, then back into the tunnel they’d come from. He grabbed the phone and used all his cricket skills to pitch it as far as possible, making sure it would smash against the wall and make enough noise.
Which wasn’t difficult. The sound echoed in the tunnel.
“What the hell?” Men came running to investigate even as he drew back. “What was that?”
“Is anyone in here?” They ran toward the source of the sound.
He ran back to Rayne and together they darted into the tunnel that he figured would lead them to the surface. They didn’t make half as much noise as they would have if they were wearing shoes, but still enough to be heard if someone listened carefully. He counted on the men making enough noise while searching the other tunnel that they wouldn’t hear them.
The first three hundred meters went without trouble. Then the tunnel came to a Y. They could only guess which way would lead them out. Following their previous method, they chose the path that led up. The next junction came soon after, a more difficult decision as it was a four-way split with all the branches relatively even.