Capturing the Crown Bundle

Somehow, without being conscious of moving, he found his hands on her, sliding across her soft skin, slipping up her arms. She made a sound, not of protest, not exactly, more of welcome, and he answered low in his throat.

Need, raw and sharp, clawed at him. Still, he made a heroic effort to keep himself from taking her, though she felt warm and supple and willing in his arms.

Willing. With a hoarse cry, he covered her mouth with his. She met him halfway, lips parted, tongue mating. As before, the taste of her was sweet, like a nearly ripe peach.

When he pulled back, she made a soft mew of protest, pressing her body against him in a wordless plea. She touched her lips to his throat and he burned.

He heard another sound, realizing with a curious detachment it was the harsh, uneven rhythm of his own breathing. Or was it hers?

Was he crazy? Had he lost his mind? She was everything he ran from, everything Kayla had been and more.

And, as Kayla had been, she was pregnant with another man’s child.

He gave himself a mental shake, which did nothing to lessen the heat in his blood. She reared back as his body stirred against her, her eyes wide and dark and her face clear, no artifice in her expression, just a sensual, womanly awareness. Awareness of the way her simple, quiet femininity called to him? Awareness of his body’s raging hunger for her, only her?

Was she like Kayla had been, well aware that the lure she’d cast had reeled in yet another masculine conquest?

A second later he chastised himself for reading too much into her response. Sydney wasn’t Kayla. She had her own motivations, her own needs. Perhaps she was only tired of being alone, apart, separate. Maybe, like him, she longed to touch, to make contact, to feel.

Maybe, she really needed him.

Him.

He knew a moment of wonder, then his innate cynicism set in. He was reacting to her like a sex-starved soldier, newly returned from the battlefield. Perhaps the sunlight had scrambled his brains. Or more likely it was the feel of her, all soft skin and womanly curves, but he tugged her closer, trying to be gentle when he wanted to be rough, comforting when he wanted the raw rhythm of hot, mindless sex.

She’d asked him merely to hold her, not make love to her. Was he reading too much into her words?

Yet she came to him, pressing herself against him for a moment, and as her curves molded to his body he knew he could take her there, on the ground near their fire, and slake his thirst deep inside her.

Hard, aching, he couldn’t think, could barely stop himself from pushing against her, from laying her down and peeling off her clothes. He wanted to nuzzle her breasts, take her nipples into his mouth and taste her.

She made a soft sound and he found himself looking down at her. Her beautiful eyes were full of passion.

“Sydney?” Their gazes locked for the space of a heartbeat, and another. Without consciously willing it, Chase found himself claiming her mouth again.

The instant their lips touched, fire flared between them once more. He broke away, breathing hard, cursing his lack of willpower. She whimpered, and his body surged against her. She felt it, too, the infinitesimal change in his body as he fought to keep his raging arousal under control.

“What is it about you?” he growled, unable to make himself push her away. “Why are you doing this?”

With heavy-lidded eyes she looked up at him, her expression serious. He saw no hint of a tease or the simpering coquettishness he’d come to associate with the women who followed the royals, wanting sex. Rather, as she worried her bottom lip between her teeth, she looked as troubled as he felt.

Around them, the sound of surf pounding the rocks blended with his heartbeat.

Finally, she spoke. “I want you,” she said. “But before I do, there’s something you need to understand.”

When he would have moved toward her, she held up her hand. “Reginald was my first.”

Uncomprehending, he stared. “What?”

“I was a virgin before him. I’ve never been with anyone else. I thought he loved me, but he didn’t. Now I’m pregnant.”

Something inside him splintered. At her words he felt the rage leave him, an icy chill spreading through him instead. What he knew of Reginald’s depravations could fill a book. For her first experience at lovemaking to have been at the hands of that…

Even for Reginald, this was a new low. Seduce a virgin, an illegitimate princess, impregnate her, then dump her to go off and marry a legitimate one. Though she gave no signs of knowing it, Sydney Conner was the most sexy, desirable woman Chase had ever met.

The possibility that she might be lying didn’t make him feel any better.

“Sydney, I—” Oddly enough, her innocence only made him want her more.

He started toward her.

“Wait.” She held up a hand, her delicate features remote. “I didn’t tell you that to make you feel sorry for me. Actually, I’m not sure why I told you at all.”

“I’m glad you did.” He touched her shoulder and she looked up at him, her eyes full of unshed tears. All his resolve flew out the window. “I want you, Sydney. How I want you.”

Her expression softened and she held out her arms. “Then make love to me, Chase. Erase what he did to me from my memory. Make love to me.”

Make love to me. He groaned. Despite his longing and the red-hot fantasies which haunted him, Chase knew he should back away.

Instead, he pulled her into his arms, slanting his mouth across hers. She met him halfway. He touched her, letting his hands roam over her curves freely, as he’d been aching to do. Her answering cry was a heady invitation.

Squirming against him, each movement acerbated the fierceness of his arousal, pushing him closer and closer to the edge of his ragged control.

“Chase,” she spoke his name in a broken murmur, her lips against his throat. She trailed kisses there, making him shudder.

She didn’t protest when he pulled off her blouse, nor when his fingers fumbled with the clasp of her bra. Then, when her breasts were free, he cupped them in his hands and suckled her, rolling each rosy nipple between his lips.

Arching her back, she moaned. Together, they sank to the ground. She found the waistband of his shorts and pulled the snap apart, finding him hard and swollen and spilling from his undershorts.

When she wrapped her hand around him and stroked, the movement brought pleasure and agony.

“Stop,” he ground out. “You’ll have me losing control too soon, too fast.”

He pushed her back onto the sand, throbbing, hard, ready. With his finger he entered her, finding her wet and tight. She groaned. He readied himself between her legs, about to push into her, when a roaring sound filled the air.

“Chase?” She raised her head, a look of horror filling her face as she came to the same realization as he did.

Listening, he lifted himself up and cursed. “That’s a chopper, landing on the beach. We need to hide until we know who it is.”

In one swift motion he rolled off her, yanking up his shorts and helping her up and into her bra and T-shirt. “We’re either about to be rescued or attacked.”

Chapter 7

Together, they watched the chopper land on the rocky beach near where they’d buried the pig carcass. Before the whirring blades had even slowed, a tall, dark-haired man climbed out, followed by two others. Not only did the chopper look military, but the men appeared dangerous. All wore sunglasses, and she could see they were all armed with pistols. All of them were large men with the build of bodyguards.

“They look like bad guys.” Sydney turned to Chase, still trying to adjust her clothing.

“Nope, they’re not. We’re in luck,” Chase said, relief lightening the harshness in his eyes. “Those are my men, they work for me.”

“Hell of a PR department you’ve got going.” She eyed the weapons glinting in the sunlight. “Do you guys double as covert ops or something?”

Immediately, his expression shut down. “What we do—or don’t do—in Silvershire has nothing to do with Naessa.”

Once again, he reminded her she was an outsider.

“I understand.” She matched his cool tone.

His gaze locked with hers. Another time, she might have found it amusing that Chase looked away first. Now, she felt only an awful ache spreading inside her heart. Despite that, when he held out his hand, she took it.

Fingers laced together, they ran across the sand, Chase shouting out one of the other men’s names as they ran.

Twenty minutes later, the pilot put the chopper down at a place she didn’t recognize.

The airstrip appeared to be private, with the helicopter’s landing pad clearly marked.

Chase stayed by Sydney’s side, helping her climb out from the chopper. A white Hummer limousine waited. With the other men leading the way, they bypassed this, heading for a small, unimpressive brick building. Inside, they stepped into an empty room furnished only with a single desk and a folding metal chair. A door marked Women was at one end; Men was at the other.

“Here you’ll find showers and all the necessities, as well as some new clothing.” The husky man Chase had introduced as William pointed to two suitcases. One, a small Gucci looked familiar, her favorite traveling bag.

“That’s mine,” she said. “Where did you get that?”

“Before his death, Prince Reginald had given us all the things you’d left at his flat, asking that we return them to you.”

“Us?”

William looked at Chase. Gaze locked on Sydney, Chase nodded slowly. “Go ahead.”

William flashed her an impersonal smile. “The royal public relations department. Us. We took the liberty of bringing your clothing, as well as of purchasing a few new items for your stay.”

Alarm bells went off. “Stay?”

This time they all looked at Chase. He murmured, “Why don’t you get cleaned up, then we’ll talk.”

Talk? About what? “I need to see a doctor before I do anything,” she insisted.

Expressionless, he surveyed her. “Clean up first. Then we’ll take you to a specialist for a thorough examination.”

“But—”

“There’s no doctor here, Sydney.” Chase touched her arm. “Get cleaned up, change your clothes and we’ll go. You’ll feel a lot better if you do.”

“What about my cello?”

He held up a finger. “Later, okay?”

Slowly, she nodded.

“I’ll be right there if you need anything.” He pointed to the other door. “William, Carlos and Jim will stand guard outside.”

Stand guard? Didn’t anyone else find it odd that Silvershire had a PR department made up of bodyguards? Shaking her head, she grabbed her suitcase and entered the women’s room, locking the door behind her. With a sigh, she peeled off her tattered clothing, dropping it in the trash bin. Then, crossing to the mirror, she studied her image. Nothing had changed. Sydney Conner, cellist, stared back at her. Other than the sunburn and the disheveled mop of hair, she looked much the same as the woman who’d stayed at the Hotel Royale a few days before. She caught sight of her ragged fingernails and grimaced.

Though externally she could see little signs of the ordeal she’d lived through, inside, her entire world had shifted. It would take more than a simple shower to make her feel normal again.

Her thoughts wandered to Chase. He seemed to have no problem reverting to the person he’d been before the crash. But then, he didn’t have a baby to worry over.

Turning the tap on full blast, she stepped into the shower, fighting the urge to hurry so she could get to the doctor. Despite her niggling worry, the soap and shampoo and hot water felt wonderful.

After toweling off, she eyed her still-flat stomach and wondered. She’d feel it if something were wrong, wouldn’t she? Combing out her wet hair, she muttered a quick prayer for her unborn child, then opened her door to find Chase and the others waiting.

The sight of him, clean and in a black, Armani T-shirt and pressed khakis, made her mouth go dry. He’d shaved and tied his damp blond hair in a casual ponytail, which made him even more rakishly and elegantly handsome.

“There you are.” He smiled at her, but his smile didn’t touch his eyes. With a dip of his chin, he gave a signal, and the other men moved to flank them.

“Ready?”

She nodded. “I can’t wait to get to a doctor.”

They stepped outside into the bright sunlight and approached the limo with an almost military precision. William held the back door open. As Sydney climbed inside, Chase got in next to her. William and the other two men took the opposite seat.

The last time Sydney had ridden in a limo had been the night Reginald had broken up with her. He’d arrived for their date, flowers in hand, though this time instead of the usual red roses, he’d brought her pure white. He’d been unusually quiet, his aristocratic features reflecting his nervousness. He’d fidgeted in the plush seat, while the car took them to downtown Silverton’s finest restaurant.

That night had felt mystical, magical. Sydney had actually suspected Reginald was going to propose. Instead, over aperitifs, he’d told her their relationship was over and he could no longer see her.

While the car glided silently along the curving streets, William filled them in on how they’d been located.

“The plane’s emergency beacon was still working,” he said. “We were surprised to learn you’d crashed on Chawder Island.”

“Why?”

“You filed a flight plan to Naessa. Chawder Island is several hundred miles west of the correct route.”

Chase’s brows rose. “The storm must have blown Franco off course. He and Dell tried to land us safely. They were good men and damn fine pilots.” He shifted restlessly. “This Chawder Island, who does it belong to?”

“The Lazlo Group is looking into that. Ownership is registered to a corporation whose existence appears to be a front for someone else.”

Watching the scenery outside the car, Sydney knew a growing feeling of alarm. “This doesn’t look like the road into Silverton. In fact, I’d swear we weren’t even in Silvershire. Where are we?”

Chase glanced at William. The other man gave her a reassuring smile. “Carringtonshire.”

Carringtonshire? That was in the northwestern part of Silvershire, a part of the country she’d never visited. The twisting road seemed to be in the remote countryside. Nothing but trees and hills could be seen, no matter how far she looked.

“Why?” She stared at William, then Chase.

William tapped his laptop case. “We’re headed for the royal vacation lodge on Lake Lodan.”

“Vacation lodge?” She turned on Chase. “You promised me a doctor. I want to see a doctor immediately. Before anything else, take me to a hospital.”

Chase smoothed a wayward hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear. “Calm down. It’s all been taken care of.”

William nodded. “Yes, Miss Conner. I’ve taken care of everything. We should arrive at the lodge in twenty minutes, and I’ve arranged to have a top-notch ob-gyn meet us there.”

“Top-notch?” She squinted at him suspiciously. “This Carringtonshire looks like a country area to me. How’d you manage to find a doctor like that out here in the sticks?”

“Luckily, Dr. Kallan was on holiday nearby. He’s excellent.” William’s professional tone spoke of one used to making arrangements for others. He regarded her expectantly, making her smile faintly. If not for his beefed-up appearance, he’d be a perfect personal secretary.

She sighed. “That’s a start, but honestly, I’m going to need more than just an examination. I’ll need blood work and a sonogram. I need a hospital. Then I want to go home to Naessa.”

William looked at Chase. So did Carlos and Jim.

“In good time, Sydney. First, we’re going to Lake Lodan.” Chase’s cool, calculating look no longer fooled her. “After that, we’ll take things one at a time.”

“I don’t understand.” She crossed her arms. The plush interior of the limo was starting to feel like a prison. “No more of this nonsense. Once I’ve seen the doctor and had my tests at a hospital, I want to go home. You can drop me at Silvershire International as soon as possible. I can arrange my own flight.”

Chase’s expression was closed, remote. “One step at a time, Sydney. One step at a time.”

Ever-helpful William leaned forward. “Chase thought, in view of the situation, it’d be best to keep you hidden here in Carringtonshire for a little while.”

“Situation? Hidden?”

The other men exchanged a look as she stared at them. Chase touched her arm. She was so angry she jerked away, glaring at him. “I think you’d better explain.”

“You know someone is trying to kill you. Until we learn who and why, better safe than sorry.”

She took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “That’s not your problem.”

“But it is,” he said smoothly. “You are carrying the prince’s baby. Our employer, the Duke of Carrington, has asked us keep you safe.”

“Are we back to that again? You were taking me home when—” She inhaled sharply as a horrible thought occurred to her. “You don’t think the plane crash—?”

“We’re looking into that, ma’am.” William didn’t even glance at her as he spoke. He was too preoccupied downloading information into the smallest, sleekest laptop she’d ever seen.

“If they caused the jet to crash, they killed those two pilots.”

“True.” Chase touched her arm lightly. “But I’m thinking hail brought it on. It was an accident.”

William looked up from his screen. “Do you seriously believe that? It seems awfully convenient.”

“I was there.” Chase’s sharp voice contained a rebuke. “Besides, no one could have known Sydney would be on that jet.”

“You filed a flight plan.” One of the other men spoke up, earning a sharp glance from William.

“True.” Chase gave the other man a thoughtful look. “But if the jet was sabotaged, that would mean it’s someone on the inside.”

All three men shifted uneasily. Chase folded his arms. “Any thoughts?”

The more these men talked, the less they sounded like public relations workers. She could easily picture any of them in Silvershire’s secret service.

None of the others had any answers. But they all agreed Sydney was still in grave danger.

“Right now,” Chase said, his gaze intense, “whoever they are, they’re probably searching frantically for you.”

“Not to mention the press. They’ve been going wild since the princess disappeared. No one knows about the crash. We’ve managed to keep a lid on that.” William’s wry smile and quick shake of his head told her he had his doubts as to the truth of that statement.

“The press?” Sydney fought the urge to rub her aching lower back. The sooner she could talk to that doctor, the better. “Why would the press care what I do? Since they publicized Reginald’s and my breakup, they’ve left me alone.”

“You’re in the news again.” William swallowed, looking from her to Chase. “Reporters are scouring the streets trying to hunt you down. In the meantime, they’ve dug up every detail about you they could find.”

“Why?” Chase’s voice was cold. “Because she was Reginald’s last lover before he died? I wouldn’t think that’s newsworthy now.”

“That’s only part of it. Someone leaked information to them about the pregnancy. We know it wasn’t you—” he jabbed a finger in Sydney’s direction “—since you were on Chawder Island when the story broke.”

They all looked at Sydney.

She lifted her shoulders in a shrug. “I didn’t do it. I avoid the press like the plague.”

“Then who?” Chase barked, glaring at his employees. “If there’s a leak at the palace, I want it found, now!”

“Understood, sir. We’re looking into it.”

“Who’s in charge of damage control?”

William shrugged. “I’m not sure. Melody has been running the department in your absence.”

“Damage control?” Sydney crossed her arms and resisted the urge to tap her feet. “Why would you even need such a thing? So I’m pregnant, and Reginald and I weren’t married. Things like that happen occasionally, even in Silvershire. What’s the big deal?”

“For one, you are Prince Kerwin’s daughter.” Chase bit out the words.

William cleared his throat, looking nervous. “There’s more, and it’s worse. The press is reporting you and Reginald were wed and that the child you carry is heir to the throne. They’re citing a reliable source.”

“What?” Both Chase and Sydney erupted at the same time. “It’s only been four days since Reginald died.”

“The papers claim you and Reginald married in a secret ceremony last month. One of them even says they have explicit photos.”

Chase narrowed his gaze. “Is that so?”

Sydney gave in and rubbed her throbbing temples, then moved her hands to her lower back. “Well, they’re lying. Reginald and I were never married. The only truth in all that is that I am pregnant. And—” she leaned forward, looking from one man to the other “—I really don’t care what the reporters say. It doesn’t matter to me. I’m pregnant, I want to rest. I just want to see a doctor and then go home.”

Chase shook his head. “It’s not safe.”

“I don’t think these people, whoever they are, will follow me back to Naessa.”

“They will.”

“Fine.” She gave up and let herself sink back into the plush leather seat. “We’ll talk about this later, after my examination.”

When Chase didn’t reply, she turned her attention to the scenery. Lined by granite boulders and an occasional cliff, the winding road curved through massive oaks and towering pines. Finally, Lake Lodan came into view, sunlight glinting off the water.

“It’s beautiful,” she said.

“The royal family’s lodge is on the western side of the lake.” Chase watched her intently, as though he expected her to bolt as soon as the car stopped. Not a bad idea, but hardly likely. He must have forgotten she’d seen how fast he could run.

One more sweeping curve brought them close to the lake. The wind stirred the sparkling water into choppy waves, sending them crashing against the stone cliffs. Sydney sighed, thinking of Chawder Island. Though their stay there had been brief, she’d felt as though they’d existed in another world, a cocoon filled only with her and Chase. Surreal. No wonder she felt different.

“Are we climbing?”

Chase answered with a short nod.

William looked up from his laptop. “We’re nearly there.”

The road became steeper. More cliffs, rocky and studded with trees, rose on one side. On the other, the lake spread out like a glistening blue jewel.

“Christ!” The driver swore. Directly ahead of them, a car swung wide around a sharp curve. Moving fast, the other driver headed directly toward them on the wrong side of the road.

“Hold on.” The limo driver wrenched the wheel. The large vehicle, not made for precise turns, swung and began to skid toward the rocky cliffs. If they went over, they’d be killed.

At the last instant the other car switched lanes, again coming directly at them.

“He’s trying to hit us!” William screamed, one second before the other vehicle slammed into them.

The impact spun the limo the other way. Luckily for them their rear fender barely touched the guardrail, not enough to slow their reverse sideways motion.

The other car, having hit them in the rear quarter panel, ricocheted the opposite way. It took out the guardrail, hanging on the edge for one awful moment before vanishing over the side of the cliff.

After careening left, then right, and hitting a huge boulder, the limo came to a stop. They all looked at each other. Chase held Sydney in place, while the other men shot out of the car, guns drawn.

“All clear,” William said.

“Come on.” Chase got out first, extending his hand to Sydney. Shakily, she climbed from the backseat.

“That was no random accident,” Chase shook his head, his expression grim. “I’m thinking that was another attempt to take you out of the picture.”