Read Searching For Her Prince Online
Authors: Karen Rose Smith
“I don’t know what I’m trying to do,” Brent muttered. “My shoulder hurts and my pride took a beating. I can’t believe I wasn’t listening last night, wasn’t watching out. I can’t believe I couldn’t stop him before he did this.”
Sliding closer to him, her knee grazed his. “I can only imagine how frustrated you must feel, but it could have happened to anyone.”
He glanced at her sideways. “That doesn’t make me feel better.”
“What would make you feel better?”
When his gaze locked to hers, she could see the desire in his eyes as well as a deep need maybe even he didn’t know was there. “You don’t want to know.”
“Yes, I do.”
“Don’t tempt me, Amira, or I’ll be just as brash as that gardener.”
“You couldn’t be.”
He shook his head again. “You give me too much credit.”
“Maybe you don’t give yourself enough.”
The atmosphere in the room crackled with the attraction they both felt as well as the memory of their kisses. The silence stretched too long, and she broke it. “I want to help you any way I can.”
“You’re asking for trouble. Men don’t like to accept help from a woman. It makes them grouchy.”
Laughing, she stood. “I’m not going to retreat just because you’re grouchy. What would that say about my character?”
“It would say you’re not a glutton for punish
ment.” At that he stood, too, and when he did, his color faded.
“Brent?”
“I’m okay. I need to do this on my own.”
“All right. But I’ll follow you to your room. I think you really ought to eat breakfast before you attempt this.”
“Maybe you’re right. I’ll make a stop in the kitchen and let Flora feed me.”
“I could bring your breakfast in here.”
“I’m not going to act like an invalid. It’s not in me. You’re welcome to join me for breakfast if you want,” he said with a wink. “Come on, Cocoa. Let’s see if Flora’s up.”
Then Brent strode from his office as if he hadn’t been injured at all. His denial of his condition made Amira watchful as she followed him and Cocoa to the kitchen.
Flora was indeed up and already making breakfast. She took a look at Brent, though, and shook her head. “You should be in bed, sir.”
The walk from his office seemed to have tired Brent out, and he sank heavily into a chair at the table. “Once I eat your French toast and hash browns, I’ll feel like new.”
Amira couldn’t help but roll her eyes. “You’ll have to patent that recipe, Flora. Every restaurant in the country will want it.”
Brent just scowled at her, and she imagined even that took energy. He didn’t argue when she crossed to the counter and poured coffee for him.
Fifteen minutes later he’d only finished half of everything on his plate. He was looking gray again, and she suspected this little excursion had tired him out.
As she pushed her coffee cup away from her, she advised, “Maybe you should rest for a while now.”
Ignoring her concern, he pushed himself up from the table. “I told you—I’m going to get a shower.”
She was determined to take care of him, even though he was determined to take care of himself. “All right. While you get your shower, I’ll stand outside the door in case you need me.”
“That’s not necessary,” he argued.
“It might not be necessary, but I think it would be a good precaution. I’ve had first-aid classes. I can change the bandages for you when you’re finished.”
His gaze caught and held hers. Then he headed for his room, not checking to see if she followed.
Brent could access his bathroom from inside his bedroom or from the hallway outside. While the shower ran, Amira stood in the hall, waiting to see if he needed help. He’d held his shoulder and arm stiffly this morning, but he’d seemed steady on his feet. It was obvious he was a proud man who didn’t want to turn to anyone for help. That didn’t mean he didn’t
need
help.
When the shower stopped running, Amira listened for sounds of movement inside the bathroom. Ten minutes later Brent opened the door and faced her squarely. He was as pale as he’d looked last night, and he was holding on to the doorjamb. The pair of black flannel jogging shorts he wore now rode low on his hips. Her gaze passed up the length of all that tanned skin. His hair was still damp, and his creased brow and the expression in his eyes told her he was in pain.
How long could he stand there without leaning on her?
She ran her fingers over the edges of the shoulder bandage. It was dry. Somehow he’d managed to keep his shoulder and arm clear of the water. Her fingers not only touched the gauze but briefly grazed his skin, and the steamy atmosphere around them seemed to become electrified.
“I hate to ask you to do this, but I don’t think I can handle changing the shoulder bandage on my own.”
“Let’s do it in your bedroom,” she said softly, knowing asking for help was difficult for him. She knew he’d be more comfortable in his bed and by the time they’d finished he might need to lie down.
Amira saw the bandaging supplies on the sink.
“Everything’s there that I need,” he said gruffly. “The nurse got all of it for me from the hospital pharmacy.”
He was standing in the doorway, and there was just enough room to slip past him to the sink. When she did, her breasts grazed his arm. Neither could ignore the jolt of awareness.
“I’ll wait in the bedroom,” he told her.
Amira quickly gathered up the supplies and followed him into his room. It was decorated in tan and navy and was as masculine as he was. The oak bed was definitely king-size. It was covered with a navy, tan and white geometrically designed quilt. The same fabric draped the windows. A triple dresser was empty except for a wooden valet that held Brent’s wallet and change. With the door to the armoire standing open, she guessed his jogging shorts had come from one of the drawers.
“Sit there.” She motioned to the edge of the bed.
As he did, she realized there was only one way to
get to his shoulder easily. She had to stand between his legs. He must have realized that the same time she did because he moved his thighs wider apart. When she stepped into the space, her heart was thudding so hard she could barely hear herself think. Then she concentrated on what she was doing and Brent’s well-being…not the exciting, ferocious, scary feelings he stirred up in her.
When she removed the bandage from Brent’s shoulder, she saw that the wound was long and deep. He glanced at her to see if she could handle the task, but she kept her mind focused and didn’t meet his eyes. She worked quickly for her benefit as well as his.
After she’d finished, he was whiter than before and she knew he’d have to give in to the pain and the need to rest soon. “Would taking a pain pill be so terrible?” she asked.
“I’d rather feel the pain and know what’s happening to me. Besides, looking at you is all the pain medication I need.”
Along with his discomfort, she saw the passionate sparks in his eyes. What if he gave in to them? What if
she
gave in to them?
Emboldened by everything that had passed between them, by her night on the couch watching him and listening for his breathing, she asked, “If that’s true, then why did you send me away yesterday?”
She was standing so close to him, she could smell the soap he’d used, see the line of his beard stubble even though he’d shaved, feel the heat from his body. They weren’t even touching and she was trembling all over. They didn’t have to be touching for her to feel the sizzle between them.
Brent let out a sigh. “I think you know the answer to that, Amira. If we keep seeing each other, one or both of us is going to get hurt.”
Although she didn’t want to believe it, she knew he was right. She knew if she stayed, they’d get closer and closer. Obviously, Brent didn’t want that. Then she thought about their kisses, saw longing in his eyes now. Even if he did want to be with her, even if he let her into his life, what would happen when she had to go back to Penwyck? His work was here, his life was here. If they
did
become involved, they wouldn’t be able to have anything more than a fling because of who he was and who she was. She’d never had a fling, and she didn’t think she ever would. Her dreams were about a husband and marriage and children. A girl didn’t get those by giving in to an attraction that was too hot to handle.
She thought about everything she’d done since she’d met Brent. She hardly knew him and she was standing in his bedroom thinking about what they’d do in his bed! What had happened to the values her mother had taught her?
Whenever she was around Brent, there was no black or white. There was only gray and the feelings that were deepening for him. She had to be true to who she was. She couldn’t disappoint her mother or the queen.
“You’re right,” she responded in answer to what he’d said. “We would get hurt.”
Quickly she stepped away from him and picked up the gauze, tape and scissors. “After I put these in the bathroom, I’m going to leave. I’ll tell Flora you’re resting. If you need anything else, I’m sure she can get it for you.”
He didn’t look surprised or disappointed, and he didn’t ask her to stay. “Thank you, Amira…for everything you’ve done. I’ll never forget it.”
“I’ll never forget you,” she whispered, tears coming to her eyes.
Then she turned away from him and left his bedroom, before she crawled into that bed beside him and gave him any comfort he wanted.
E
mpty.
Since Amira had left the penthouse a few minutes ago, he’d felt empty.
It was a feeling Marcus had never had before and one he didn’t like. Being the man of action that he was, even in his present condition, there was only one thing to do.
Fill the void.
Picking up the phone on his bedside table, he decided Shane should be up. In fact, he might already be at a construction site. Marcus kept telling his twin he should get a cell phone, but his brother just wasn’t that type.
Shane answered on the first ring. “About time I hear from you,” he chided. “Did you buy the State of California yet?”
Marcus laughed. There was no jealousy between them. Shane did his thing and Marcus did his. They
supported each other, happy in each other’s successes, sympathetic at each other’s losses.
“Not yet. Do you have a few minutes?”
“I should have been out the door a half hour ago. But I always have time for you. What’s up?”
Marcus knew how the business clock ticked. If Shane said he should be on the job, then he should be. Marcus didn’t want to have a rushed conversation about Amira’s story. But he did have a question.
“Tell me something. Do you remember Mother or Dad telling any stories about labor and delivery?”
“Ours, you mean?”
“Yes, ours,” Marcus responded patiently. “You’ve been around Mother more than I have. Did she ever talk about it?”
“Not that I can recall. Why?”
Why, indeed. Even a long phone conversation wouldn’t handle this. He needed to talk to Shane in person. They hadn’t seen each other for a while…“What does your schedule look like for the next few weeks?”
“I’ll be starting a new project. Long days, short nights. You know the drill. Why?”
“I thought I might fly out. There’s something I want to discuss with you.”
“So discuss. You’re asking odd questions.”
“I know. I met a woman who started me thinking about some things. That’s all.”
“A woman? A pretty woman?” There was amusement and hope in Shane’s voice.
“Yes, a very pretty woman. But she’s not from the U.S. and she’s leaving soon. I’ve decided it’s better if I don’t see her again. I was going to have Fritz drive me up to Shady Glenn today, but…”
Something in Marcus’s voice must have alerted Shane that something was wrong. “You’re not leaving today?”
“I was mugged last night.”
“You mean your wallet was stolen?”
“Not as simple as that. The mugger had a knife.”
“Blue blazes, Marcus! Are you all right?”
“If I don’t move too fast. He got my shoulder. I should feel a lot better by tomorrow. Today I’m just a bit wiped out.”
“You went to a doctor, I hope.”
“I didn’t have any choice. Somebody called an ambulance. But I came home last night. I couldn’t stay in that place. You know how I feel about hospitals.” After Rhonda had slipped into a coma, he’d sat by her bedside for two days. Then he’d lost her. Shane knew that.
“Yeah, I know how you feel about them. At least Flora was there to look after you. Wasn’t she?”
“I wouldn’t let Flora look after me so she called in reinforcements.”
“Fritz?”
Marcus laughed. “He was in on it. She called Amira—the woman I told you about—and he drove her over.”
“And just what does this Amira look like?”
“Blond hair, violet eyes.”
“And…” Shane probed.
“And she’s as innocent as an angel. Not like any twenty-year-old I’ve ever met. She’s been protected and chaperoned all her life.”
“Uh-oh. It sounds like more than a little interest there.”
“It’s impossible,” Marcus said in frustration. “She lives on an island an ocean away.”
“Are you sure you’re not going to see her again?” Shane asked.
“It’s not a good idea.”
“Good idea or not, it sounds as if maybe you should.” There was a lengthy pause before Shane asked, “Is she in your dreams?”
Marcus knew what his brother meant. “Yes.”
“Is she in your thoughts when you’re awake, too?”
He didn’t answer that one.
“You might have to see her again to get her out of your system.”
Marcus knew his brother might be right. “She’s something else, Shane. She really is. Like no woman I’ve ever met. I can forget about deals and investments and whether she’s with me because of who I am and what I have.”
“Then see her again.”
Marcus heard a loud male voice calling for Shane.
His brother said, “Uh-oh. One of my subcontractors is at the door. Must be an emergency. Do you want to talk later?”
“I’ll phone you next week. We’ll see if we can coordinate our schedules.”
“Sure thing. You can always help me dig a footer.”
Marcus could hear the grin in his twin’s voice.
After Marcus hung up, he thought about what Shane had said about seeing Amira again. Should he take the risk?
For the rest of Saturday, long into the night and all day Sunday, Marcus thought about Amira—how spe
cial she was, how much he liked being with her, how much he wanted her. She was alone in Chicago, and he was the only person she really knew. If he went away, he’d feel as if he was deserting her.
He wasn’t just going to Shady Glenn for a vacation, but to spend some time at Reunion House. He liked being with the kids and making repairs on the old house. It gave him a different kind of satisfaction from the usual work he did, the kind of satisfaction Shane had all the time, he imagined—working with his hands, building. Marcus suspected that Amira would like Reunion House and enjoy meeting the kids there. Yet, after the way they’d left things yesterday, he didn’t know if she’d accept his invitation. His father would be at Shady Glenn, so having a chaperone wouldn’t be a problem.
But he needed an enticing way to ask her to join him.
Cocoa ran into his office then, barked at him and stood on her hind legs.
Marcus smiled. He did have an idea, and one he suspected would work very well.
On Monday morning Amira was debating how she would spend the day. She’d dressed in a blue, tailored pantsuit ready to go sight-seeing. Yet the thought of doing it without Brent didn’t seem very satisfying. She knew she had to stop pining for him. She knew she had to forget about him. It was very hard, especially when she had a week on her hands that she didn’t know what to do with.
The knock on her door was unexpected. Crossing to it, she looked out the peephole and saw a yellow wagon with Cocoa sitting in it!
Opening the door, she didn’t know what to expect. There was Brent standing two feet from the wagon, grinning at her.
“What are you doing here?”
He nodded to the wagon and the envelope propped beside Cocoa. “Read it,” he suggested.
Stooping down, she patted the dog on the head and ruffled her ears. Then she picked up the envelope and opened it, her heart racing. The invitation inside read, “Come along with me to see Shady Glenn and Reunion House. Cocoa.”
She looked up at Brent, confused.
Taking the handle of the wagon, he pulled it inside. When he straightened, his hand went to his shoulder and she could tell he was still in pain.
“What are you doing up and out?” she asked, concerned.
With a shrug he smiled. “I have things to do, places to go, people to see.”
“You need a keeper,” she muttered.
“How would you like to be my keeper for a few days?” His green eyes said the invitation was a serious one.
She didn’t know how or what to respond to that.
“I’m going to Shady Glenn to recuperate until next weekend. I know how you worry about chaperones. My father’s going to fly in this evening. So he’ll be there. While you’re there, you can check out Reunion House. The kids love visitors and you can help me present Cocoa to them.”
The whole idea seemed like another wonderful adventure. Did she dare go with him?
His smile fading, he leaned toward her, slowly combed his fingers through her hair and smoothed his
thumb over the side of her cheek. “Amira, I know we live in different worlds and all we’ll ever have is this week. But having it could be better than not having it. Don’t you think?”
She knew she was falling in love with Brent, and she also knew love came along maybe once in a lifetime if you were lucky. Her mother had been twice blessed, but not everyone was. Amira knew what she felt for Brent was special, and if she stayed here and didn’t go with him, she’d regret it for the rest of her life.
“I don’t know what I’ll tell the queen.”
He continued to stroke her cheek as if he garnered as much pleasure from it as she did. “I’m sure you’ll think of something. You could tell her you’re seeing some of the state while you’re here. That’s true.”
Yes, it was. And the queen
had
told her she should see the sights. “I’ll have to give her the number at…Shady Glenn, is it?”
“That’s no problem. Do you really think she’ll be calling?”
“Only if there’s something new to report. I can check in with her secretary and then she won’t worry about me.”
“So you’ll go?”
She realized the decision had been made as soon as he’d asked. “Yes, I’ll go.”
They were gazing at each other, and neither of them seemed to be able to look away until Cocoa barked a few times.
Brent chuckled. “I’ll translate for her. She says to pack light and to bring jeans and sweaters.”
“I don’t have any jeans along. When do you want to leave?”
“Whenever you’re ready.”
“Can I have a couple of hours to go shopping first?”
“Sure. I can even recommend a few stores.”
Amira’s phone rang then. Cocoa trotted over to the instrument and barked at it as if she didn’t welcome the intrusion, either.
“I have to get that,” Amira apologized. “It might be the queen…or my mother.”
Brent nodded, but she could tell from the look in his eyes that he really didn’t understand her being on-call and what this mission to find Marcus Cordello meant to Penwyck.
After she picked up the receiver, a strong masculine voice asked, “Miss Corbin? This is Cole Everson.”
Cole Everson, the head of the Royal Intelligence Institute, had coordinated the efforts to find Marcus Cordello and his brother. “Hello, Mr. Everson. The queen told me you might be phoning. Have you found a picture yet?”
Out of the corner of her eye, Amira noticed Brent take Cocoa into her sitting area and stand by the window.
“Unfortunately, I haven’t. This man protects his privacy with a vengeance and so does everyone else around him. I can’t even get hold of a home address. Mail that doesn’t go to his business is sent to a P.O. box. I’ve decided to initiate surveillance on the P.O. box so we can follow whoever picks up the mail to wherever Marcus Cordello lives. I understand he’s going to be out of the city this week.”
“That’s what his secretary told me, and I don’t think it was a ploy. She seemed sincere.”
There were a few moments of silence. “I discussed
this with the queen, Miss Corbin, and if you’d like to return to Penwyck, I can find someone else to try to meet with the man.”
“Is that what the queen wants?”
“I think the queen wants what’s best for you. If you’d rather not be in Chicago alone for a week, or feel this is getting too frustrating for you—”
“I want to do this for Queen Marissa and King Morgan,” she told Cole. Glancing at Brent, she saw he was watching her intently. “I’m going to take the next few days as a…holiday and see some of the countryside. I’ll inform the queen’s private secretary where I can be reached.”
“When will she have that information?” he asked.
“Later today.”
“All right. If I need to contact you, I’ll get it from her. I’m hoping to have a photograph by the end of the week. Cordello attended a private school and graduated when he was sixteen. I’m trying to obtain a yearbook from the school. If we can just get that, I’ll have an artist age his features properly so you can at least know what he looks like now.”
“Mr. Everson, is Marcus Cordello a recluse?”
“No. He just guards his privacy and the details of his life carefully. That’s not unusual in men of his wealth and stature. Tabloids can get hold of photos and use them to their own benefit. But we’ll track something down. That’s my job. By the time you return to the city, I should have a home address for him, too. In the meantime, you have a good holiday. Will you be needing an escort or a guide? I’m sure the queen will provide one.”
“No. I don’t need an escort. I’ll be staying at
a…guest house someone recommended. I’ll be quite safe.”
“You’re sure about this, Miss Corbin? A young woman alone in a strange country—”
“I’m sure, Mr. Everson.”
“All right, then. As soon as I have more information, I’ll be in touch.”
After she hung up the phone, Amira crossed to the sitting area where Cocoa was sniffing the rug and the furniture and anything else that looked interesting.
“What was that all about?” Brent asked, looking concerned.
“Just an update from the head of the Royal Intelligence. He’s trying to find a home address for Mr. Cordello. They’re going to stake out his post office box.”
Brent glanced out the window as if he was looking for the man himself. “I see. Did I hear you mention something about a photograph?”
“Mr. Everson is having trouble locating one. He’s hoping to have something by the end of the week. When I told him I was going to take a holiday, he wondered if I wanted an escort or a guide.”
At that Brent turned from the window and gazed at her. “What did you tell him?”
“That I don’t need one.”
“And that you’re staying at a guest house.”
“Yes. I’ll be a guest at your house, right? I don’t want to mislead the queen, but…she just wouldn’t understand. Neither would my mother.”
Approaching her slowly, Brent held her gaze with his. “Are you sure you want to come with me? I don’t want you to do anything you’ll regret.”
“This is my decision to make, Brent, no one else’s. I’m sure.”
Marcus felt guilty as hell. He’d known what that conversation with Everson was all about, and as soon as Amira had hung up, he’d considered telling her the truth. But if he did, that would be the end of whatever was starting between them. He wanted this week with her. He wanted it more than he’d ever wanted anything in his life. If he told her who he was now, she’d call the queen…she’d call Everson. Lord knew who else she’d call. His life, as well as his brother’s and his parents’, might never be the same. Any sparks between him and Amira would smother in the ashes of the search for twins and royal obligations. He didn’t understand royal obligations, and he didn’t want to be any part of them.