Royal Weddings. Joan Elliott Pickart

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ resisted the urge to shrink back from that giant hand and boldly taunted, “Was that my question? I don’t think that was my question.”

      The huge man looked somewhat pained. “It seemed wiser, Your Highness, to be waiting for you inside.”

      “Wiser than knocking on my door like any normal, civilized human being?”

      In answer to that, she got a fractional nod of his big blond head.

      “Here in America, what you did is called breaking and entering. What’s wise about that?”

      This time the fractional move was a shrug.

      Elli’s mind raced. She felt threatened, boxed in—and at the same time determined that this oversize interloper would not see her fear.

      She looked at him sideways. “You said you were at my service.”

      “I am bloodsworn to your father. That means I serve you, as well.”

      “Great. To serve me best, you can get out of my apartment.”

      He had those bulging, tendon-ridged arms crossed over that enormous chest and he didn’t look as if he was going anywhere. He said, “Your father wishes your presence at court. He wishes to see you, to speak with you. He has…important matters to discuss with you.”

      This was all so insulting. Elli felt her cheeks burning. “My father has made zero effort over the years to get in touch with me. What is so important that I have to drop everything and rush to see him now?”

      “Allow me to take you to him. His Majesty will explain all.”

      “Listen. Listen very carefully.” Elli employed the same patient, firm tone she often used on stubborn five-year-olds in her class of kindergartners. “I want you to return to Gullandria. When you get there, you can tell my father that if he suddenly just has to speak with me, he can pick up the phone and call me. Once he’s told me what’s going on, I’ll decide whether I’m willing to go see him or not.”

      The Viking’s frown deepened. Evidently, he found the disparity between her wishes and his orders vaguely troubling. But not troubling enough to get him to give up and go. “You will pack now, Princess,” he intoned. “Necessities only. All your needs will be provided for at Isenhalla.”

      Isenhalla. Ice hall. The silver-slate palace of Gullandrian kings….

      Truly, truly weird. A Viking in her living room. A Viking who thought he was taking her to her father’s palace. “I guess you haven’t been listening. I said, I am going nowhere with you and you are trespassing. I want you to leave.”

      “You will pack now, please.” Those flinty eyes seemed to see right through her and that amazingly square jaw looked set in granite.

      Elli repeated, more strongly than the first time, “I said, I want you to leave.”

      “And once you are packed, I will do as you say. We will leave together.”

      There was a silence—a loaded one. She glared at him and he stared, unblinking, back at her. From outside, she heard ordinary, everyday sounds: birds singing, the honk of a horn, a leaf blower starting up, a siren somewhere far off in the distance.

      Those sounds had the strangest effect on her. They made her want to burst into tears. Though they were right outside her door, those sounds, all at once, seemed lost to her.

      Lost…

      The word made her think of the brothers she had never known. There had been two of them, Kylan and Valbrand. Kylan had died as a young child. But Valbrand had grown up in Gullandria with their father, the king. Over the years, she and her sisters had talked about what it might be like to meet their surviving brother someday, to get to know him.

      But that would never happen now.

      Valbrand was dead, too. Like Kylan.

      And were her brothers the key to what was happening here? Her father had no sons anymore. And without a son, maybe his thrown-away daughters had value to him now—whether they wanted anything to do with him, or not.

      Yes. She supposed that made sense—or it would make sense if she could even be certain that this Viking had been sent by her father in the first place.

      Maybe this was a trick. Maybe this man had been sent by an enemy of her father’s. Or maybe he was simply a criminal, as she’d assumed at first. But instead of robbing her apartment, he was here to take her hostage. He’d haul her out of here and hold her prisoner and her mother would be getting a ransom note….

      Oh, she didn’t know. How could she know? This was all so confusing.

      And whatever the reasons for the Viking in her living room, there could be no more denials. Elli could see it, shining there, in those unwavering pale eyes. Hauk FitzWyborn—who called himself the king’s warrior, who said he was blood-something-or-other to her father—might be at her service, but only if her desires didn’t conflict with whatever orders he’d been given. He intended to take her…somewhere. And wherever that somewhere actually was, he meant to take her today—whether she agreed to go or not.

      The bottom line: this was a kidnapping and Elli was the kidnappee.

      Oh, what was she thinking—to have stood here and argued with him? She should have hit the door running at the sight of him.

      Maybe she could still escape—if she moved fast enough.

      She spun for the door.

      And she made it. She had the doorknob in her hand.

      But she never got a chance to turn it.

      With stunning speed for such a big man, he was upon her, wrapping those bulging, scarred arms around her. It was like being engulfed by a warm boulder. She cried out—once. And then a massive hand covered her mouth and nose.

      That hand held a soft cloth, a cloth that smelled sharp and bitter.

      Drugged. He had drugged her….

      “Forgive me, Your Highness,” she heard him whisper.

      And the world went black.

      Chapter Two

      Hauk looked down at the princess in his arms.

      She was slim, but not small, with long, graceful bones and surprisingly large, ripe-looking breasts, the kind of breasts that would serve equally to please a man and nourish the children he gave her. Her mouth was full-lipped—and silent, at the moment. Silent and lax.

      The compliant one, his lord had called her. And compliant she was—now. The drug had made her so. But Hauk had looked deep into those fjord-blue eyes. He’d seen the steel at the core. If his lord hoped this one might be yielding when conscious, he was in for an unpleasant surprise.

      “Bring her to me,” Hauk’s lord had instructed. “Tell her that her father would like to see her, to speak with her. Say that her father has many things to say to her and will explain all as soon СКАЧАТЬ