The Unlawfully Wedded Princess. Kara Lennox

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СКАЧАТЬ Cecelia, wasn’t making it easy.

      CeCe ceased her pacing and leaned down until she was eye to eye with Amelia. “You said he was your husband, when he called to say he was on his way to New York.”

      “I’ve since consulted our lawyer. The marriage wasn’t legal—no way, no how.”

      “He obviously means something to you.” CeCe went to the walk-in closet and threw open the door. “Don’t you want to at least put on a dress, maybe some lipstick?”

      “Nick has seen me without lipstick. It won’t kill him.” Actually, Nicholas Standish had seen her looking a lot worse than she did now. Almost a year ago, in the former Soviet state of Palemeir, he’d seen her covered with dirt and bug bites, which was how she tended to get when she became deeply involved with a relief effort for the International Children’s Foundation. She’d been busy feeding hungry children, doling out medicine and helping them find a safe place to sleep at night. Her own fastidiousness was low on her priority list, even in the presence of the handsomest, most charismatic man she’d ever met.

      Amelia abandoned her nail file and turned to look out the window of the penthouse, which offered a magnificent view of Central Park. The city was in the middle of a dreary late-winter rain, but the park still looked inviting even though still wrapped in winter’s browns. Amelia wished she could go for a run in that park, just lose herself. She’d rather be anywhere than here, about to face the man she’d lied to, then abandoned.

      When Amelia turned back to see what her sister was up to, she was met by a bombardment of clothes. CeCe was pulling dresses out of the closet and tossing them at Amelia.

      “Put one of those on. Any of them will do.”

      Amelia hid a smile as she stripped down to her bra and panties. CeCe, with her sleek, chin-length hair, which she recently dyed reddish-blonde, and her peach silk suit, looked every inch the princess she was—much more so than Amelia, whose curly blond hair was always out of control, and whose wardrobe leaned toward jeans, T-shirts and simple dresses. CeCe’s nervous energy made her a whiz in the corporate boardrooms of DeLacey Shipping, where she was second in command to their mother, Lady Charlotte. In Amelia’s mind, that was just one step away from running a small country like Korosol.

      But Amelia was the princess destined to inherit the throne of the tiny principality nestled between Spain and France. Though CeCe at twenty-nine was older than Amelia by two years, their grandfather, King Easton, had chosen Amelia after CeCe had politely declined the throne. Amelia was both honored and terrified by the prospect, amazed she would be trusted with such an awesome responsibility, and worried she wouldn’t live up to the king’s lofty expectations.

      But she intended to do her best, to earn the trust her grandfather had in her—if this recent scandal didn’t cause him to disown her. CeCe’s unplanned pregnancy had made tabloid headlines around the world a few scant weeks ago, causing the king a lot of sleepless nights. Fortunately, CeCe had worked things out with the baby’s father, Shane O’Connell, and they were now happily married.

      Amelia wasn’t sure her own scandal would have such a satisfying conclusion. It was entirely possible King Easton would change his mind about his latest choice of heir to the throne. He still had one more Carradigne sister available, twenty-six-year-old Lucia. Though Amelia’s younger sister was a free spirit, at least she hadn’t stirred up any scandals.

      “So why didn’t you tell us about Nicholas Standish?” CeCe wanted to know, tugging a dress over Amelia’s head as if she were a doll and pulling up the zipper. “I’d have thought you would at least mention it to Ellie.”

      Eleanor Standish was Nick’s younger sister and, proving it was a small world, a member of the king’s personal staff who had traveled with him to New York to find an heir among his three granddaughters here. Amelia hadn’t even realized Nick and Ellie were related until recently.

      “I thought I’d never see Nick again,” Amelia said, finally ending her self-imposed silence about her matrimonial misadventure. “We were desperate. Marrying him was the only way he could get those two kids out of—”

      “Oh, yes. Ellie told us about her brother adopting two orphans.” CeCe automatically put a protective hand to her tummy bulge, which even her expertly tailored suits could no longer disguise. Pregnancy had softened CeCe around the edges. Once known as “the barracuda,” she now melted at the mention of children.

      Amelia sighed. “We—Nick and I—ended up responsible for the children after their father died in a foreign embassy blast in Palemeir. Their mother was very sick at the time, and Nick promised her before she died, too, that he would personally care for the kids. But the only way for him to do that was to adopt them. And the only way the Palemeir government would push through the paperwork was if Nick was married. So we got married.”

      “That’s extraordinary,” CeCe said, pawing through Amelia’s drawers for a half slip and stockings. “I mean, didn’t you say he’s a mercenary? Such a selfless act doesn’t sound like the act of a guy who makes war for money. He must be something.”

      “He is,” Amelia agreed. When she realized how dreamy she sounded, she straightened her spine and frowned. “I’m not wearing stockings.”

      “So why is he coming here?” CeCe asked, tossing the underthings at Amelia as if she hadn’t heard her.

      “I have no idea.” They’d said their goodbyes at the airport in Palemeir after she’d surprised him by announcing she had to leave right away. The ICF was pulling out, and so was she. But tempted though she’d been, there was no way she could live as a mercenary’s wife in a small town, even if it was in the country of her heritage. She was destined for bigger things—like inheriting a throne. Maybe being queen wasn’t her first choice, but it was her duty.

      “I’m fascinated by the whole thing,” CeCe pronounced. “Not just the secret marriage, but the physical risks you took. I knew you were traveling to dangerous areas, but I didn’t picture you right there on the front lines.”

      “There were no front lines in Palemeir,” Amelia said. “War was all around us. That’s why I was using the pseudonym, Melanie Lacey, so I could move around without people gawking or the press interfering with my work.”

      CeCe brushed an errant curl from Amelia’s cheek. “I know you’re not happy the king put a stop to your activities. But he couldn’t allow the future queen of Korosol to risk her life in war zones.”

      Amelia understood. But she missed her adventurous life.

      Still, she recognized that with the privilege of her birth came responsibilities, and she was not turning her back on them.

      “What are you going to do with this guy when he gets here?” CeCe asked, digging through Amelia’s jumble of shoes in the closet. She selected a pair of white espadrilles, and probably would have shoved them onto Amelia’s feet if Amelia hadn’t willingly stepped into them.

      “I don’t know that, either.” But she’d better figure it out fast, because the door chimes were ringing impatiently.

      CeCe dragged Amelia toward the bedroom door. “Come on. I’m dying to meet your Nick.”

      “Don’t call him ‘my Nick.’ And don’t leave me alone with him,” Amelia implored.

      “No, never,” CeCe replied with rippling laughter.

      Hester СКАЧАТЬ