The Prince's Bride (Modern Fairytales) Read online

  “Then what is she?”

  “A guest. A very valued guest.” He ran his hand through his hair and tucked the phone into his pocket. “Ready the blue room in the West Hall. She’ll be staying there.”

  She’d always liked blue.

  Hopefully that would soften her up a bit.

  “Right away.” He stood at attention. “Should a guard be set on the door?”

  “I don’t think that’s nec—” Leo hesitated. He didn’t want Alicia to feel like a prisoner, but at the same time… “I’ll let you know after I talk to her.”

  He saluted Leo. “Very well.”

  Leo took a deep breath before twisting the doorknob. As he entered the sitting room outside his formal parlor, he inhaled one last long breath. Curling his hands into fists, he sought her out, and when he found her—Christ.

  She was fucking beautiful.

  He stared at her, unable to believe that after all these years, after all this time, she was there in the same room as him. She stood all the way at the back of the large room, her body practically wedged into the corner behind a green chaise lounge. She wore a pale yellow sundress with a black belt cinching the waist. Her long blonde hair fell in soft waves down her back and over her shoulders, stopping just short of hitting her lower ribs.

  She had to have heard him enter, which meant keeping her back to him was an act of defiance and disrespect, something he’d never get from a Randovian woman. But that was one of the reasons he liked her. When they met, she hadn’t known who he was. What he was. Now she did, and she still didn’t give a damn. It was refreshing.

  She was refreshing.

  “Are you him?” she asked without turning around. Her voice had a bored tone to it, as if she weren’t being held prisoner in a foreign country by a man she didn’t know—or didn’t know she knew. “Are you the prince who ordered me to be detained?”

  He opened his mouth to answer her, but before he could…she turned around.

  And he forgot what he was going to say, who he was, or even why he was here. The second she met his eyes, she froze, too, and she stumbled back, a hand pressed to her chest. “I… You…”

  And then she fell silent.

  After a few moments, he dug his fingers into his palms and forced a small smile. “Hello, Alicia. Long time, no see.”

  She dropped her hand from her mouth, her fingers twitching. “Leo?”

  He nodded once. “Yes.”

  “But…” She took a step forward.

  He waited for her to finish her sentence, but she didn’t.

  She closed the distance between them, each step she took making his heart beat faster than before. By the time she reached him, it was a miracle it hadn’t given out on him completely.

  Slowly, she reached out and touched his cheek, her lips parted in surprise. “Is it really you?”

  “Yes.” He curled and uncurled his fingers, then brushed her hair off her face, unable to resist feeling her skin against his again. She flinched. “It’s really me, my lady.”

  “You look good,” she said, her voice lost in wonder. “Really good.”

  Heat slammed through him. “So do you. You’re even more beautiful than I imagined you would grow up to be.”

  “But you’re—” Stepping back, she slammed her hands against his chest angrily. And then she did it again. “You asshole.”

  He caught her wrists in his hands, clenching his jaw. “I know this is an unbearable situ—”

  “God, I can’t believe this.” She jerked free and stumbled back, her eyes narrowed on him. “Why are you in this castle? Did you see me on the news?”

  He lifted a brow, not understanding why she’d ask him that question. He wore the royal crest on his chest, and clearly he belonged here. It was then that he realized she still didn’t know who he was. But if she didn’t know that he was responsible for detaining her, then why was she so damn angry with him?

  Could she still be that angry he hadn’t written her?

  Because she hadn’t exactly written him, either.

  He didn’t know why he never picked up a pen, or sent an email, or why he’d waited so long to write her back then. It was almost as though if he did, then what they shared would be over. As if writing would make it less real. Didn’t make sense, but he’d been young. He’d also been afraid that she might find someone else, and that probably would have broken him. And by the time he realized he was an idiot, it was too late. It seemed silly to write to her, and after all, she hadn’t sent him letters. Years passed. Life happened. He’d missed his opportunity with her…

  But then, she came back into his life.

  And suddenly, the opportunity wasn’t missed anymore.

  “Yes,” he said drily, hesitantly. At some point, he’d have to tell her who he was. Obviously. But not right now.

  “Oh, thank God.” She rested a hand on his chest, right where she’d hit him moments before, only now she was all sweet eyes and soft lips. “Can you get me out of here? Your crazy prince has abducted me for no reason.”

  He flexed his jaw. “Crazy?”

  “Well, yeah, why else would he hold me captive?” She shook him a little bit. “I’ve never even met the guy.”

  “Well, actually—”

  “You’ve got to get me out of here.” She gripped his shirt and fisted it with both hands, her voice soft and desperate. “Please.”

  He should do it.

  Let her go.

  If he played his cards right, he could even avoid telling her who he really was and why he’d taken her hostage. He opened his mouth to say those very words, despite the betrayal that would be to his father, but something else came out. “I can’t do that.”

  “What—?” She let go of him and stepped back. She took in his royal suit, slowly realizing he wasn’t dressed casually, like the rest of the household staff. “Oh God. You’re one of them. One of his advisors.”

  Time to come clean. “Actually, I’m—”

  “Why is he holding me here?” she demanded. “Tell me.”

  “Last night you were at a club with a man.”

  And that man was me. I was the one touching you.

  Making you scream.

  “What?” She blinked at him, seeming confused. For a second, he thought he’d spoken out loud. He wasn’t sure how it was that she hadn’t put two and two together yet, just like he wasn’t sure how he felt about the fact that she hadn’t. “What does that—? Oh my God.”

  He waited patiently, letting her piece it all together.

  It didn’t take long.

  She’d always been a smart girl.

  “You… I… But your hair…” She stared at his blond hair, paling even more. “And your eyes…”

  “I was in disguise,” he explained. “Dark hair. Dark eyes.”

  She stared at him, turning a little green. “Oh. My. God.” She covered her mouth, the pallor in her cheeks giving way to redness. “No. God no. Oh my God. That was you.”

  “Indeed.” He inclined his head. “Nice to see you again, my lady.”

  She covered her face. “Shoot me. Shoot me now.”

  “I’d rather not,” he said drily. He wasn’t sure whether to be insulted by her reaction, amused, or both.

  “Why were you in disguise in the first place?” She dropped her hands to her sides again. “Who does that?”

  He hesitated. “I had my reasons.”

  “I’m sure you did,” she replied sarcastically. “Just so you know, I don’t do stuff like that, and if I’d known it was you, I definitely wouldn’t have done it. It was a one-time thing for me. A bucket list item.”

  He squinted, doing his best to ignore her comment about how she would have avoided him if she’d known who he was. Then he realized what she said. “Bucket list? Are you ill?” he asked, his gut churning at the thought of finding and then losing her in quick succession. “Are you seeing a doctor? Is that why you’re here?”

  “What? No. It’s from my friend. He wanted me to
—” She broke off, laughing uneasily. “God. I can’t believe out of all the men in this country, I ended up in that hallway with you. I mean, if that’s not ironic, I don’t know what is. And the funniest thing was, I picked that guy…well, you…because he kind of reminded me of you.”

  He stiffened, locking eyes with her. First she said she never would have fucked him if she’d known it was him, and then she turned around and said she’d fucked him because he reminded her of himself. She was as confused as he was. Well, that was a start. “You did?”

  “Yeah.” She shoved her hair behind her ear nervously, averting her eyes. “Stupid, right?”

  “I don’t think it’s stupid at all.” If anything, it made him think he’d done the right thing bringing her here. “I’ve thought of you often over the years, too.”

  “Yeah.” She laughed. “Sure you did.”

  Frowning, he said, “It’s true.”

  “Did you know it was me?” she asked, ignoring his statement.

  “Of course,” he said simply. “I would never forget you.”

  “Oh, come on. You’re full of—” Her cheeks flushed, and she seemed to be seconds from punching him, or killing him, but she took a calming breath, shaking her head. “Can you get me out of here, or not?”

  “No.”

  “Seriously?” She stiffened even more. “Why not?”

  He flexed his jaw and stared at her, knowing it was now or never. “Because I’m the one who brought you here. So, clearly, I’m not about to let you go.”

  “But…” She opened her mouth, closed it, and opened it again, finally staring at the gold stitching on his chest pocket. “Are you saying…you’re…are you…?”

  “Prince Leopold William George Worthington, at your service.” He bowed at the waist, never dropping her gaze. “Nice to formally meet you, my lady.”

  “Prince—?” She stumbled back, clearly less than pleased with this new information, as she pressed a hand to her stomach. “Well… Shit.”

  Chapter Six

  So many emotions were flying through her right now, that it was a miracle her head hadn’t started spinning Exorcist style. Anger. Frustration. Joy. Confusion. Sadness. Pain. All because the boy she’d fallen in love with all those years ago was standing in front of her…after calling out a nationwide manhunt to find her again, and basically kidnapping her off the streets to bring her here.

  Which was crazy.

  Like something you’d read in a book.

  She licked her lips, trying to form intelligible words. “You’re the…the…prince.”

  It wasn’t a question, but he nodded anyway.

  She let out a small laugh, rubbing her forehead. “So back in America, that story about you being the son of a wealthy fisherman…?”

  “Is true. Father loves to fish.” He shrugged. “Just not for a living.”

  “Wow.” She shoved her hair away from her eyes, but it fell right back in place again. “Just…wow.”

  He moved it out of the way for her, and she jerked back because his touch sent a burning knife of desire right through her. He might be an asshole prince, and she might hate him for what he’d done to her all those years ago, but damn if she didn’t want him, too, with a passion that couldn’t be denied.

  No matter how hard she tried.

  “It’s a lot to take in, but I’m the same guy I was back then,” he said slowly, locking eyes with her. “I’m still Leo.”

  The boy who had left her and then acted as if she didn’t exist? Yeah. She remembered that boy very well, thank you very much. And that was just the reminder she needed to ignore the need he brought to life inside of her with nothing more than a simple touch. “You’ve made that very clear.”

  He blinked. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Nothing. Nothing at all.” She shook her head, swallowing hard, crossing her arms in front of her chest. “So you brought me here under royal guard to…what? Say hello? To let me know we slept together last night?”

  His hard, emotionless face didn’t even waver. From the moment he walked in that door, he’d been in control, seeming to have no feeling inside of him besides his weird determination to keep her here. And yet, when he thought she wasn’t paying attention, he stared at her as if he’d like nothing more than to be back in that hallway, touching her and making her scream again. It was unnerving.

  “That’s not why I brought you here.”

  “Then why?” She crossed her arms. “What do you need from me?”

  “Why are you in this country?” he asked.

  She tipped her head to the side. Leave it to him to answer a question with a question. “The company I work for is trying to secure a contract with your military to provide high quality Kevlar to—”

  He held a hand up, and she broke off immediately.

  Weird, how easy it was for him.

  “Baker?” he asked.

  “Y-yes.” She gripped her arms, angry that he had such a strong presence in the room that he could silence her so effortlessly, and even angrier that despite all he’d done, she longed to throw herself in his arms and demand to know why he never came back for her like he promised. “That’s correct.”

  “I see.” He nodded. “We can discuss that during your stay with us, if you wish. I’m the one who makes the decisions about our military.”

  She bit her tongue. “My…stay?”

  “You’ll be staying here for a week or two, um, depending on the situation,” he said, his tone leaving no room for defiance or discussion. “I’ve had a room made ready for you. It’s blue. I think you’ll like it.”

  Stiffening, she bit her tongue even harder.

  The arrogant son of a bitch.

  Yeah, she was angry, and yeah, she itched to give him a piece of her mind, but he was the prince, and she was in charge of securing this account for Baker, and she had to be diplomatic…no matter what they’d done together while in that dark hallway last night. “And if I decline to stay?”

  “I would rather you didn’t.”

  She gritted her teeth and plastered on a smile. “Might I ask why you’re holding me captive?”

  He rubbed his jaw, lowering his head as he watched her through hooded lids. Only he could make something so simple so freaking sexy. “You’re not a captive. You’ll have free rein of the castle grounds for your entire stay. Servants who will answer your every call or desire.”

  “I see.” She widened her smile, even though she was envisioning ripping his stupid little royal crown emblem right off his stupid, hard chest and throwing it in his stupid, handsome face. “Well, you can call it what you will. I’ll call it what it is.”

  He nodded once, not even bothering to defend his actions. “I spoke with my father, and even though you’re not—”

  Something warm and fuzzy spread through her chest at the mention of his father. He’d been a nice guy—unlike his son. “So he’s still alive, then?”

  “Of course. He’s only sixty-three.” He tugged on his collar and lowered his lashes, watching her through them. He’d always had such thick, black lashes, which made his blue eyes look even bluer. “How’s your father?”

  She swallowed, because she’d already told him how her father was. She’d informed him of her dad’s death in the letters she sent him, before he offered to come get her and bring her to his country, and left her at the airport with nothing more than a harsh note crumpled up in her hand.

  At her silence, his face softened, and he reached out, clasping her shoulder. “I’m sorry, he was a good man.”

  “Yeah. He was.” She shrugged free, because his touch burned. “Why are you holding me hostage?”

  “For the last time, I’m not holding you hostage.”

  The hell you’re not.

  Someone needed to give the man a dictionary instead of a crown.

  “Then I’m free to go.” She sidestepped him, glancing at the door quickly. “And there’s no guard out there, waiting to stop me?”

 
He flinched, telling her all she needed to know. “Alicia…”

  Well, there was her answer. “Tell me why.”

  “Because of last night,” he replied.

  She sucked in a breath and held it. “What about it?”

  “We were intimate.”

  “Yeah.” Her cheeks heated for the millionth time. “I know. I was there, too.”

  His mouth quirked up into an almost smile. “You always had such a wonderful sense of humor.”

  “Yeah. Fabulous.”

  Shaking his head, he sighed. “There it is again.”

  It occurred to her, then, that she hadn’t seen him smile this whole time. He’d been serious. Solid. Unshakable. Strong. She racked her brain trying to remember if he’d even smiled once last night. All she remembered were seductive glances and heated strokes that had lit her on fire and could easily do so again, if she let him. “What does last night have to do with you bringing me here?”

  “You’re here because of what we did last night.”

  She dug her nails into her arms, holding on tightly. “So, what, you hope it’ll happen again, so you’re locking me up to keep me close? That’s kind of pervy for a prince.”

  “Well, I certainly wouldn’t mind it happening again. I’d be a fool or a liar to say otherwise, and I’m neither of those things.” He gave her a look that, in any other circumstance, could have melted the panties off a nun. “I’ve never forgotten you, and I’ve always regretted not writing you—”

  Rage—pure rage—stabbed her in the heart, and she lost it.

  Legit lost it.

  “Bullshit,” she spat, poking his chest with her finger and forgetting all about her intention to remain diplomatic for the sake of her company. “You wrote me, and you left me there waiting for you, you…you…shithead.”

  He frowned and just stood there, looking confused. Typical man. “What? Waiting where?”

  “You—you—God.” She threw her hands up and let out a short laugh. “You’re unbelievable. You’re actually going to act like you don’t know?”

  His frown deepened, but he remained silent.

  She scowled at him, pushing past him. “I’m leaving. Right now. And you can’t stop me.”

  Easily, he caught her arm, stopping her mid step. Even though he held her firmly, his touch was gentle. But his eyes? They spoke another story. They were on fire. “What are you so angry about? Is it because I never wrote you after New York? Because, not to point out the obvious, you didn’t write me, either.”