How to Love a Princess (17 page)

“Impossible,” her mother
insisted. She gripped Catherine’s hand as tightly as her strength allowed and
met her gaze with a determination that belied her frailty. “I’m also against
shutting down Mine 3. Have you considered the ramifications?”

“I promised Nicolas.” She
didn’t add that Nicolas wouldn’t be around to hold her to that promise. The
mine would be shut off and quarantined either way and a team of experts brought
in.

“As much as I admire that
young man’s concern and dedication, I really wish you hadn’t.”

“Don’t you worry, I’ll
handle this without ruffling any diplomatic feathers,” Catherine soothed,
patting her mother’s hand. “I didn’t want to bother you, but sometimes it feels
as if I don’t have the experience or knowledge to make these decisions.”

“I hate to say it,
darling, but that feeling never goes away entirely.”

Catherine gave a shaky
laugh and squeezed her mother’s hand. “Well, now I feel so
much better.”

Her mother smiled with
her, then put her head back on the pillow and closed her eyes. “Damn those
mines.”

Catherine agreed
wholeheartedly. As much wealth as the discovery had brought Ophella, she’d give
it all up to eliminate the constant threat snapping at their heels. If she shut
down the mines, America or Russia, probably both, would step in and take over
production of the mines as well as the entire country—or what was left of
Ophella—while they were at it.
 

She heard the door click
softly open, but didn’t turn around or look up, assuming it was Dr. Stanzis
returning.

Nicolas watched mother and
daughter from the doorway; one pale and shrivelled, the other bursting with
vitality, both a power to be reckoned with and autocratically stubborn. His
gaze went to Catherine’s profile and lingered.

His temper was still high
and he didn’t particularly want to be in the same room as her right now. Things
were bad enough between them and he’d only make it worse. He was neither blind nor
closed to the principles of running a country. Disturbing the economic balance
and giving up the pittance of power Ophella had claimed with its mysterious
contracts were no small matter. But then, neither was risking lives!

She’d accused him of being
an idealist.

He was.

And damn if he wasn’t
proud of it.

His face grim, his spine
stiff, he closed the door and crossed to the other side of the bed from where
she sat. “Is she sleeping?” he whispered.

Her head shot up to greet
him with a startled gaze. “Um, I think so.”

“I’m awake,” Helene
contradicted, opening her eyes.

Nicolas bent his smile on
the queen. “I need to draw a small amount of blood, Helene.”

She nodded and, well aware
of the routine, held out her arm.

He swabbed a patch of skin
and took the sample, talking all the while in low undertones, reassuring,
comforting and giving hope.

Catherine watched on with
muted pride, her heart swelling at his tender touch and gentle words.

When he’d finished, he
gave her one last dark look before departing as quietly as he’d entered. There
was nothing tender or gentle in that look. Catherine blinked back a tear and
said her silent goodbyes. In her mind, she saw the man who’d loved whipping up
sumptuous meals that they could enjoy in the privacy of his home, who’d tumbled
her in the leaves of Hyde Park with laughter dancing in his eyes, who’d held
her hand across a rickety coffee table in that sentimental café they’d gone
back to so many times.
 

She’d never see
that
man
again.

Nicolas shoved the hard
hat on his head before entering the crowded room in the onsite administration
building. In faded denims and a jumper, he blended seamlessly with the miners
who’d been re-routed for the briefing session as they signed on for the day’s
shift.

He stayed near the door,
putting his back against the wall and folding his arms as he watched Catherine
raise a hand for silence at the other end of the room. She stood on a slightly
raised platform that made her visible to every person in attendance. The pale
grey suit contrasted sharply with the auburn hair falling to her shoulders. The
navy blouse beneath sparked the blue in her eyes. She stood straight, her chin
high, her gaze not scanning the room, but catching an eye here and there and
talking directly to that man.

She looked beautiful and
confident. She looked every bit the royal princess that she was.

Even though she had to
project her voice to be heard, it lost none of its melodic quality as she
briefed the men on the situation. Her talk was concise and accurate, quoting
from the folder he’d left behind on her desk after their argument this morning.
Nicolas found himself reluctantly admiring her, even though they were on
opposite sides of the negotiating table.

His brow went up as she
launched into a string of recommendations of himself, adding her own personal
appreciation of his qualifications and praising his accomplishments.

She held up the folder of
information he’d prepared. “Nicolas Vecca is of the opinion that all mining
should be halted until further investigations can be carried out. There’ll be
absolutely no repercussions to any person wishing to stay off from work until
the conclusive reports are in and the matter finalised.”

His interest quickened,
Nicolas straightened from the wall. She’d given them the truth and the option
to make up their own minds. He’d barged into her office and demanded she shut
down production. Her way was elegant and diplomatic and totally acceptable.

“You’ll receive full
salaries and benefits for the duration,” Catherine continued. “You have my
personal assurance this won’t effect future promotions or impact our faith in
your reliability.”

There were a few low
chuckles and many approving grunts dispersed through the room.

Nicolas shook his head on
a slow smile. His grudging admiration flared into pride and respect. Even when
she backed down in defeat, she did it with a flair of grace. God, was it any
wonder he loved this woman to distraction?

“However,” Catherine
called, raising her voice above the hum, which immediately quietened. “However,
let us not forget we’ve been operating for twenty years and there’s been no
unexplained deaths or illnesses. I value Nicolas Vecca’s opinion, but I must
stress that the consequences of ceasing all operation will seriously impact
Ophella on many levels. I’ve told you about the extra precautions we’re putting
in place. Now I must ask you to put your trust in me.”

She paused, the silence in
the room total enough to hear a pin drop. Nicolas, for one, could clearly hear
the blood buzz inside his head. His smile faded, the reason behind it forgotten
as his anger returned.

“Trust in me,” she
repeated, so softly, it was surprising he heard it at the back. “I wouldn’t ask
this of you without good reason. We need to keep production up in the four
mines that will remain operational.”

Another pause. “Ophella
needs you.”

Despite his anger, Nicolas
found himself hanging on her every word.

Her smile was warm and
seductive. Her eyes implored each man in the room. “I need you.”

The protective instinct
conjured by her plea was overwhelming. In that moment, he’d sign his soul over
to the devil to give her anything she needed, anything she wanted.

As the men shuffled from
the room, as he recognised the determination stamped on their faces, the
emotion expressed in their eyes, he knew that this was the devil’s lucky day.

“
Cazzo,
” he
muttered irritably. Damn Catherine and her underhanded tactics. She gave the
impression of offering free choice, but no man here had stood a chance.

She didn’t demand, she
asked.

As if any red bloodied man
could deny such a desperate appeal from such a beautiful woman. Ophella might
be a democracy, but so long as Catherine ruled, it might as well be a
dictatorship.

God, he thought again and
not quite as happily, was it any wonder he loved this woman to distraction?

The room cleared and still
he remained where he was, watching as she chatted with Gascon and her
secretary, Erling, and another man he didn’t recognise. He moved only when she
glanced about and caught sight of him with a startled jerk.

“I didn’t expect to see
you,” Catherine said as he approached. Her shoulders stiffened in defence,
expecting an immediate attack on her speech.

“Erling said you were
meeting with the supervisors down here at two o’ clock. I was invited to
attend, if you recall.”

“Of course.” She smiled
weakly, introducing him to the mine supervisor as she gathered her papers and
folders. She’d assumed that he’d wash his hands off Ophella and leave as soon
as his job was done. She’d assumed wrong. Nicolas didn’t give up on a cause
that easily, as she well knew. “We’re about to go in.”

Nicolas fell in beside
Gascon as they followed Catherine and the others to the scheduled meeting room.

“She’s under a lot of
stress,” Gascon said in a low voice. “I hope you haven’t come to disrupt the
meeting.”

Nicolas didn’t answer. He
wasn’t in the mood for Gascon today, especially not when the man was defending
Catherine.

He was furious at the way
she’d negated his concerns and manipulated the miners.

He was hungry for a taste
of those sweetly curved lips that had won her cause for her with one appealing
smile.

He wanted to curse her to
hell for using her power to fight him.

He wanted to take her in
his arms and love her.

What he wanted, what they
both needed, was a temporary respite, Nicolas realised as he found a chair
around the table and caught a fleeting glimpse of Catherine without her mask.
No more than a brief moment, and then the strain dulling her eyes cleared, the
tightness pulling down her lips eased. Then and there, he knew what he wanted
most within the current restrictions she insisted on imposing. He wanted that
brief unmasked moment to last an hour and he wanted to use every single minute
of that hour reminding her of what they’d once had.

Catherine’s expectations
of a blustery meeting with her and Nicolas going at each other head to head
didn’t unfold. He kept his briefing factual, answering questions put to him by
the six supervisors at the table and proposing additional safety measures to
the ones she put forward.

Relieved, pleasantly
surprised and not a little confounded, Catherine accepted his offer of a ride
back to the castle. “I must admit, I expected to find you picketing in front of
the mines rather than backing me up in there.”

He started the engine and
threw her a grin. “There’s more power inside the boardroom than outside. You
know me.”

“If you can’t beat them,
join them?” she queried in astonishment. If that was the case, she didn’t know
him at all.

“I was thinking more along
the lines of invasion of the inner circle.”

Catherine laughed, but a
second later she was serious again. “You can’t make me change my mind,
Nicolas.”

He glanced her way, his
eyes dark and just as serious. “You can’t stop me from trying.”

When he faced back to the
road, Catherine continued staring at him, wondering how she could admire his
confidence, idealism and determination so much when it was those very qualities
she was up against. But she did. She not only admired them, but she loved him
all the more for them. They were part of him, probably the best part.

She was only sorry,
deeply, sadly sorry that she had to be the one to fight him. That she had to be
the one to defeat him.

At the next juncture, he
turned off down a dirt road, the suddenly bumpy ride grabbing her attention.

“Where are you—” She broke
off as she recognised the lake. “This takes us to the Hunting Lodge.”

He arched a playful brow.
“Some of us have excellent memories.”

“It’s quite beautiful,”
she said, ignoring the dig and assuming he was taking a short detour for a
little sightseeing. “The lake is filled with trout and salmon. Gascon used to
bring me fishing here.”

“Is he ever not around?”
Nicolas muttered, glancing over his shoulder as he drove, surprised to not find
the man tailing them. When the rustic log cabin came into view, he forgot all
about Gascon. “Wow, this is not what I expected.”

“You were expecting
turrets?” she quipped.

“Do you blame me?” he
threw back. As soon as he cut the engine, he jumped down from the Land Rover,
lifting his collar up to his chin against the bitter wind blowing off from the
lake.

“It’s so…ordinary,” he
added when Catherine joined him in front of the vehicle.

She gave a soft laugh.
“It’s deceptively ginormous inside.”

He turned to her, saw the
wind catch her scarf, and quickly grabbed at it. As he tucked the tasselled
edges back inside her coat, his fingers brushed her throat, warm and silky. Her
fragrance teased his nostrils and struck a chord of raw desire. The air between
them seemed to thicken, slowing him down, shutting off his mind. She looked up
into his eyes and his blood warmed beneath the blue fire that enticed his
senses.