The Prince's Runaway Lover (Men of the Zodiac) Read online

  He toppled in behind her and the door closed, the shouts of the press muffled but closer as they swarmed and tried to get pictures through the darkened windows. Isabel shifted to sit in the middle of the seat, trying to get away from the chaos outside, leaning into his side.

  “Go! Go!” Nick directed the driver who nodded and shifted the vehicle into gear and pulled out and shot away from the crowd. Nick looked behind them, his expression almost comical in its resignation. “They’re following us, Stavros. Keep going but don’t endanger anyone. They can’t see us.”

  “Yes, sir.” The driver observed her in the rearview mirror, his gaze curious. He broke eye contact quickly, returning his gaze to the road.

  Nick pulled her close, draping his arm over her shoulders. “We’ll be at the palace soon.”

  The drive was quick, uneventful, and anti-climactic, and before she knew it, they were entering the palace grounds and pulling into the area just outside the royal garage. Nick thanked the two men and helped her out, keeping her pulled close to his side as they followed the path back to her cottage.

  Isabel clung to him, suddenly weaker with the release of her adrenaline. She couldn’t hide the slight tremor that rolled through her body. She wasn’t afraid but she couldn’t deny that for a while there that emotion had been there. It felt a little bit like the night she’d started running and the similarity had her shaking.

  They got to her cottage and she leaned against the wall, her back against the cool stone as she bent over at the knees. Isabel ripped off the hat and glasses and handed them over.

  “I don’t think I need these anymore.”

  Nick leaned over and peered up into her face. “Isabel, you okay?”

  “I’m good. Fine,” she said as she gulped in air and tried to shake off her body’s reaction. She straightened up and he followed, standing close enough that she had to look up to maintain eye contact. “Holy hell, that hit me harder than I thought it would. I didn’t expect the shouting and the chasing.”

  “It takes some getting used to. I don’t even notice it half the time anymore.”

  “I guess after Mount Everest that was a cake walk.”

  “Pretty much.” Silence descended as he stared at her, clearly contemplating his next question. She knew what was coming. “You want to tell me why you didn’t want your photo taken?”

  She shook her head, the sudden dryness of her throat and the new shot of adrenaline making it impossible to speak.

  “Are you ever going to tell me?”

  She just stared at him, her silence speaking volumes.

  “Fuck me,” he muttered under his breath, lifting a hand to cup her jaw, his thumb gently stroking along her jaw in a move that soothed as much as it shot her adrenaline level back up. “I don’t know whether to thank you for taking me to the camp or to walk away and leave you and your particular brand of trouble alone.”

  The only thing she could think to say was the same warning she’d issued previously and ignore the part of her that hoped he didn’t heed it…once again. “I’m not staying and I’m”

  “You’re no Cinderella. You’re a bad idea. I heard you.” He shifted in closer to her body, his length pressing her further back into the stone. He was like a furnace to her front and the contrast with the chilled stone made her shiver. He was not the cause of the tremor, not even a little bit. She would just keep telling herself that and it would be true.

  “Thanks for the warning but I’m a big boy and I can make all the bad choices I want.” He dipped his head, nose brushing against hers as his breath warmed her lips. She closed her eyes against the onslaught of this man who could have any woman in the world but was hell-bent to have her. His voice was rough when he murmured, “You’re a bad choice that I can’t wait to regret.”

  He took her mouth, living up to his pronouncement with the deep thrust of his tongue as soon as she gasped with the pleasure of his intrusion and the heavy, full press of his body against hers. It was as if they’d been kissing each other forever, the twining of their tongues, the angle of their mouths fitting together perfectly.

  Their lips nipped, explored, tongues plunging and tasting and she moaned when his one hand slid along her neck to tangle his fingers in the mess of her hair while the other delved under her T-shirt to glide across the skin of her belly to cup her breast. She pushed into his touch, silently pleading for him to tease her nipple through the light cotton of her bra. It was his turn to moan when the movement caused the strap to slip off her shoulder and drag the cup down, allowing him room to caress flesh against aching flesh.

  His skin was rough and calloused, and the sensation lit up her nerve endings. Her breasts, unwilling to keep the pleasure all to themselves, sent hot tendrils down her belly and into the core of her. Wet. Hot. She was dying for him, panting against his mouth as she was taken to the place where all she could do was feel.

  Isabel looped her arms around his neck, hanging on for dear life as her legs really did give way under the avalanche of sensations ricocheting inside her body. It had been years since she’d felt this kind of pleasure, had wanted and craved it like it was sustenance to her very being. She wanted him, the shock of it catching in her throat as she gave in to desire that she’d thought had left her completely. She was awake, alive, and finally craved the touch of a man again.

  Nick broke away from her mouth, pressing a trail of heat and wet kisses along her neck and angling down along her collarbone.

  “Nicky,” she gasped as she gripped his shoulders, nails digging in at the contact of his thigh against her core as he wedged his leg between her own. She moved against his hard muscle, the sharp spikes of electric pleasure beginning in her core and warming her belly into an inferno of desire. “Oh my God, Nicky.”

  She felt his smile against the skin just below her ear, the huff of his laughter in her hair. “I like that.”

  Isabel tried to gather her thoughts to ask him what exactly he liked but the ringing of a phone chimed out into the air around them and abruptly brought them back to the present. This was a bad idea in the middle of the palace grounds where they were never alone and where rumors began with only the whiff of a scandal. Neither she nor Nick could afford this kind of trouble.

  She pushed against his chest, intending for him to release her but he only loosened his grip, extracting his phone and swiping across the screen to answer. He stared down at her as he spoke, his lips swollen with their kisses and twisted into his signature grin.

  “Yes, Chris?” A brief pause while he listened and then he answered. “I’m fine and we got away just in time. There were about half a dozen press that I could see and yes they got photos.” He paused again, leaning over to press a swift kiss on her lips. “Isabel was with me but they won’t be able to tell it’s her in the pictures. I made sure of it. It will be a huge deal in the papers tomorrow and the internet tonight. Not much I can do about it.” He glanced down at his watch and nodded before wrapping it up. “I’ll be up there in a few moments. Please tell them I’m wearing the Armani tuxedo tonight. Thanks.”

  He ended the call and continued his stare down of her while he put his phone away. When he leaned in she thought he was going to kiss her, but instead he pressed his forehead against hers, locking eyes.

  “I like it when you call me Nicky.”

  It wasn’t what she expected at all and the pleasure at hearing his words caught her off guard. She hadn’t even realized she said it, but it fit him. At least it fit the man she was beginning to know.

  “I’m pretty sure that calling the crown prince Nicky is on the list of things I shouldn’t be doing.”

  “I keep telling you that if I like it then it’s okay because I’m in charge.” His voice dropped lower and he stole her breath. “I want to hear you call me Nicky when I’m buried deep inside you. I want that more than you can possibly know.”

  She closed her eyes, knowing she should say that they couldn’t, she wouldn’t give in to his request, but it would be a
lie. If she spent any more time with this man, their ending up in bed together was inevitable. She wanted thiseven if for a little while. Fairy tales weren’t supposed to last forever anyway.

  “Oh, there you go being exceedingly charming again,” she said, unwilling to say what was really going on in her head.

  “Well, I am a prince. It’s in the job description.”

  “You need to stop it,” she said. “You’ve already got too much of an advantage with the palace and the crown and everything.”

  “Hey.” His hands slid up to cup her face. “Look at me.”

  She did, opening her eyes and immediately falling into the cerulean blue of his eyes.

  “I’m just a guy trying to get a girl to notice him.” He smiled crookedly, for the first time his expression holding a hint of embarrassment and vulnerability. Isabel waited for him to look away, but he maintained his focus as he plowed ahead. “I like the fact that in spite of the palace and the crown, you see me.”

  And that’s when she knew she would spend nights in his arms, afternoons underneath him, hours with him inside her. It wouldn’t be forever. She had forever to be invisible, forever to live in the shadows with not even her real name to keep her company. No, she’d take this short time to let him see her and she’d grant him the same in return.

  “I see you, Nicky. I see you clearly.”

  Chapter Nine

  “My mother is royally pissed,” Nick said as he smiled across the room at the ambassador from a country he could not recall.

  “Pun intended, I presume,” Chris said as he handed him a much-needed whiskey on the rocks. Nick took a sip and then extended it out into a long swallow that gave him the jolt he needed after two hours spent in a receiving line.

  “Absolutely.” He took another drink, this time savoring the burn as it went down. “But she is ready to kill me.”

  “How can you tell? She’s smiling and laughing. What am I missing?”

  “She’s talking to Lord Batton’s third wife. She dislikes her with the intensity of the sun. The only way she’d stay and let that woman go on and on about anything is if she’s so angry with me that she’s distracted.”

  “Well, you did run off with the gardener girl and get caught by the paparazzi.”

  “Yes, I did.” He didn’t even try to lose the smile on his lips, nodding politely to his reception guests as they passed. “It was a day well spent.” On more than one level. He’d gotten the insight he needed to make the best decision regarding the refugees and spent the time prior to this event outlining his approach and sifting the details in his head.

  He’d made progress with Isabel. She’d let him in a little, sharing her sister and letting him see how hard the separation was. She’d trusted him with the kids she clearly loved and with getting her back to the palace and for protecting her privacy. And she’d let him kiss her and demonstrate how hot this attraction was boiling between them. She couldn’t deny it now, not after that lip-lock. But she could still push him away.

  “Damn,” Chris said, the disbelief in his voice pulling Nick out of his memories. “You fucked the gardener girl.”

  “What? No.” Nick looked around to make sure nobody could hear them. The place wasn’t crawling with reporters but they had a few select journalists here to cover the event. “I kissed her.”

  “Just a kiss and you’ve got that fan-fucking-tastic grin on your face? Jesus. Your mom is going to shit a brick when you bring home the help for dinner.”

  “I don’t think it’s ever going to come to that.” Nick wished he could disguise the regret that shot through him at his words. “Isabel maintains that she won’t be here for very long. So it will never be an issue.”

  “And you’re going to accept that? Have you lost your mojo? Misplaced the magic penis?”

  “You’re a fucking asshole. Why do I keep you around?”

  “Because if you didn’t you’d have to start hanging out with that guy.”

  Chris gestured over his right shoulder and Nick turned in time to see his mother approach with Lord Batton and the head of parliament, Lord Marcus. Lady Charlotte pulled up the rear. She’d latched herself on to him much earlier, trying to make every photo of them look like they were a couple. The council would be pleased to see him playing along with the great bride hunt. Unwilling to lie about his relationship status, he’d been polite and deliberately vague about whether they were seeing each other or if he was seeing anyone. He left the question of whether he had a date for the coronation ball unanswered.

  The group continued to advance and he wondered if he could make a break for it. He glanced around and ruled it out. The only path was if he bowled over his great aunt Olivia and he liked her enough to not want to inflict bodily injury.

  “Your Royal Highness.” Lord Batton bowed along with the other members of his party as he stopped in front of Nick. He flicked a glance at Chris and nodded in greeting before sliding his eyes back in his direction. Everything in their depths told him that he had some fences to mend. “Lord Marcus and I wanted to ask if you got the information you sought during your clandestine field trip this afternoon?”

  So much for all the diplomacy his mother was always shoving at him. Apparently he was the only one who had to be diplomatic. He noticed the eyes of several nearby partygoers on them and could practically feel them as they strained to eavesdrop. He caught the eye of his nearby security team and gestured for them to clear out anyone close enough to hear.

  “I got all the information that the parliamentary report failed to give me.” He leveled a look at both men, steeling his voice and reining in the tinge of anger. “We’ll need to talk about the lack of due diligence on behalf of your body as soon as we address the refugee issue to my satisfaction.”

  “I’m not sure what you mean, Your Royal Highness,” Lord Marcus said, his flushed skin telling Nick that he really did know. Nick hated this passive aggressive crap.

  This back and forth, reading between the lines shit was getting on his nerves. He was not this man, not a politician. He had no patience for men who played games while there was work to do. If they wanted a king who would sit by and do nothing, then maybe he wasn’t the man to do it after all.

  “I think you do but I can spell it out for you since we’re going to play pretend.” His mother sucked in a breath in a way that alerted everyone in the room that she was not happy with this meeting. Lady Charlotte took a whole step back from the circle. “What I saw today was a completely different picture from what was detailed in your report. I’m not even sure any of you actually visited the camp, even after I specifically told you to do it. There are so many key areas where we can assist and you will receive my plan tomorrow. I expect it to be executed without delay.”

  “We look forward to discussing your ideas with you, sir,” Lord Marcus said, his spine getting stiffer than Nick thought possible. Marcus did not like having his authority challenged but Nick didn’t like being lied to either. “I think you’ll appreciate our experience in these early days of your reign. If you get to your coronation, you’ll see how this works a little more clearly.”

  He didn’t come out and say it but everything about his tone and the expression on his face telegraphed that he would exercise infinite patience while explaining how it really was to this man who was anxious to play prince. Patronizing, condescending asshole. Nick saw it in crystal clear HD: his advisors had already decided to blow him off, to give him a pat on the head and send him home. His blood pressure spiked along with his body temperature and his temper.

  Nick took stock of the situation, determined that his next words would not be fueled by ego. He lowered his voice, unwilling to make this a scene. “Lord Marcus, while I fully appreciate and welcome the guidance of parliament, when I request information I expect to receive it. All of it. The fact that I had to seek alternative and unorthodox means to get that information should prompt you to consider how your failure to deliver necessitated my actions this afternoon.”
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  The man shifted on his feet, clearly readying himself for his own launch, but Nick gave him no opportunity.

  “I am not done.” The snap of his words alerted those outside of the small circle that this was no idle party chat as several guests tried to appear as if they weren’t eavesdropping. He proceeded on anyway. “When I present my plan, I will of course discuss all reasonable topics regarding the budget, resources, and logistics, but I expect that those discussions will be geared solely toward executing my plans for assisting the refugee community. Is that clear?”

  They stared at him, only Chris shaking off the shock of the moment with a smirk teasing at his lips.

  “I’m sorry, Your Royal Highness. I didn’t know that the performance of parliament was failing to meet your expectations,” Lord Marcus said. His attempt to turn this into something where Nick had unrealistic expectations pissed him off and what had been at a low boil was now roiling. These men saw an opportunity to take power in the gap left by the loss of his brother but they failed to understand that Nick was fully capable of spanning that gap.

  “Since this is our first chance to work together toward setting policy for the country, there will be an adjustment,” he said, modulating the heat but not the force of his words. “But I think you will find that I highly value parliament and therefore when I’m asking for information, I expect to get it.”

  He extended his hand to Lord Marcus and watched him as he debated whether to shake it or not.

  “I pledge that you will receive the same level of openness and integrity when you need something from me.” When the other man finally accepted his hand, he continued. “I understand you will naturally have your own thoughts on my plan and I look forward to discussing your ideas.”

  The two men left abruptly, giving all due respect, but Lord Marcus’ eye held something more than anger. He was intrigued by Nick, and still open on the question of whether to throw his lot behind him or Rushing. Nick knew this fight would not end tonight but at least Marcus knew he was a man who would not be easily moved on issues that were important, even when his crown was at stake.