For the third event, the riders lined up for the traditional joust. Sophie’s tension increased. There might as well have only been two competitors on the field. Throughout the afternoon it had become clear to her that this had turned into a personal challenge, one man against the other.
The lances were blunted, made of wood, but that didn’t mean the sport was without risk. One of the competitors in the first round was knocked from his horse. While he was only slightly injured, he was out of the tournament.
The joust diminished the ranks in short order. It was apparent that even Gaynor and the Black Knight were tiring. Theirs was the final match, and neither appeared willing to give way. With each pass, the heavy impact of wood against shield resonated. Sophie could swear she felt the echo of the blows in her belly. At the end of the event, when neither man was able to knock the other from their mount, Robert declared that they were dead even.
The tradition of the last event reached back over centuries. In modern times, Sophie mused, fencing had rules and etiquette. But what the men were preparing to engage in here had neither. This was raw swordplay, such as would have been practiced in medieval times.
The sense of history she felt surprised her. As sword met sword and the sharp clang of steel on steel filled the air, Sophie allowed herself to imagine that she was a princess in some by-gone era, witnessing as two men fought, not only for honor and for gain, but for love. What if this were a contest to determine her mate? She knew the history of her country well. In centuries past, daughters were nothing more than chattel, used by their fathers to secure land, money, or alliances. Whether a daughter was in agreement with the marriage contract or not was entirely beside the point.
Her parents’ marriage would go down in history as the last arranged royal marriage in Boisdemer. She was glad of that fact, grateful her father had decreed an end to the practice.
Silver armor and black gleamed in the hot sun as sword continued to beat against sword. It seemed to Sophie that the pace had slowed. Then Gaynor gave a yell, gripped the hilt of his weapon in both hands, and charged the Black Knight. He caught Gaynor’s blade with his own on an upward thrust, then spun around, shoving back as he did.
Gaynor fell to the ground, and in an instant the Black Knight’s sword was at his throat. Sophie surged to her feet as the spectators gasped in shock.
“Yield!” The Black Knight’s deep voice was filled with menace and cold determination as he demanded the dotcom mogul’s surrender like some champion of old.
For a long moment Gaynor did nothing.
“I said, yield!”
Was he going to kill the poor man?
Sophie didn’t know. Neither, apparently, did anyone else.
Finally, slowly, as if it pained him to do so, Gaynor raised his hands, capitulating the match.
Immediately the Black Knight turned, bowed to Sophie, and strode toward the stables without another word.
Volunteers rushed onto the field to help Gaynor to his feet and escort him to the stables where he, like the other competitors, would get ready to ride in a parade to the center of the field for the awards ceremony.
The stunned expression on Michael’s face was almost comical, but Sophie didn’t feel like laughing. “I’m glad I wasn’t the only one who didn’t know what that stranger would do,” she told him quietly.
Michael’s response seemed odd.
“I still don’t.”
* * * *
The trumpets announced the parade of competitors. A red carpet had been rolled out onto the field where Sophie waited with Robert
Montrefort
at her back. Each man was to receive an amulet on a silver chain, commemorating the event.
Her eyes widened when she surveyed the riders. All had completely divested themselves of their armor, wearing casual twenty-first century clothing, their hair damp from their exertions, their faces wreathed in smiles.
All, that is, except the Black Knight. Oh, he’d taken off the armor, all right. But he was still dressed in black and still wore the cowl over his head.
Sophie focused on the others. One by one, she presented them with their medal and thanked them for participating in the charitable event. They were all incredibly young, and every one of them behaved like young men who’d had a good time flexing their muscles and flaunting their prowess like knights of old.
Telford Gaynor, however, held himself imperiously as he accepted his amulet, as if still dauntingly certain of his superiority. “Perhaps I could call on you later? I’m certain your father won’t mind. I was thinking, actually, of locating a branch of my company here. Boisdemer is a beautiful country. My continued presence and my continued interest would be a boost to the local economy, I’m sure.”
Sophie had never had to handle a persistent suitor before. Falling back on cold etiquette felt wrong, but she didn’t know how to tell the man to go jump in the ocean. When the urge to do just that nearly overwhelmed her, she swallowed hard, and muttered a non-committal, “Perhaps.”
Dismissing Gaynor from her thoughts, she turned to face the Black Knight, determined to find out who he was. Annoyingly, he backed his horse up three paces as she approached him.
Refusing to move another step, her voice was cool when she said, “Congratulations, sir knight. You won the competition.”
Instead of answering, he gave her a slight nod. Taking the final medal from the tray Robert held, Sophie stepped forward, arms raised to slip the chain over his neck, as she’d done with each of the others. He leaned down so she could reach, but stopped just short before she could complete her mission.
“So, you admit that I am your champion?” His voice was a husky rasp, only loud enough for the two of them to hear.
Sophie scowled, wondering what game the man was playing. She just wanted to give him the damn necklace and go home. When he backed his horse another pace away, she nearly swore. Mindful, however, that everyone was watching her, she decided it couldn’t hurt to stroke the man’s ego—even if she had no idea who the hell he was. Thousands of dollars had been raised for children’s charities, and that, she decided, was the only thing that mattered.
“Yes, all right. You’re my champion.”
Reaching up as he bent all the way down, she began to place the chain around his neck. Before she knew what was happening, he wrapped one strongly muscled arm around her waist and scooped her up, startling a squeal of surprise out of her.
In the next instant Sophie found herself draped over his lap as if she were a sack of corn. His hand clamped down on her ass as the crowd cheered the bold move. And they continued to cheer as he kicked his horse into a gallop and left the fairgrounds behind.
“What are you doing? Put me down this instant!”
“Be still, little one, so I don’t drop you.”
Stephan felt Sophie go absolutely still under his hands.
“
Merde
.
Stephan?”
“Such language for a princess,” he responded, unable to keep the laughter out of his voice.
“I should have known it was—damn it, Stephan, I can’t
breathe
like this!”
“Sorry,
chérie
, I didn’t think of that.”
He waited until they’d rounded a bend in the road, then stopped his horse and lifted her up from her prone position, sitting her upright in front of him. Then he kicked the horse into a gallop. He couldn’t help but laugh when Sophie screamed and threw her arms around his neck.
“Where are we going? Were you out of your mind competing like that? What if you’d been hurt or killed?
And slow down
!”
“Would it matter to you, Sophie, if I’d been hurt or killed?” he asked, slowing the horse slightly, and tightening his hold on her.
“That’s a stupid question.”
Stephan laughed again and hugged her. “We are almost there.” Rounding another bend in the road, he took the left fork, reining in his horse to a walk. Just ahead of them was the same black Mercedes Stephan had used once before.
The driver’s door opened, and Andre, the royal family’s stable master, stepped out.
“You were in on this?”
Sophie’s question sounded entirely too tart to have been spoken by an ice princess, in Stephan’s opinion.
Oh, she’s full of fire
.
“Your Highness?”
Clearly, Andre was taken aback by Sophie’s tone. Stephan stepped in to save the man. “Andre is merely here to collect the horse.”
He set Sophie down, and when she took a step back, dismounted himself. The stable master took the reins of the horse, mounted, and nudged the animal into a trot back down the trail Sophie and Stephan had just left. He was out of sight within moments.
“We’re only about a kilometer from the farm, here,” Stephan said. Sophie, a mutinous expression on her face, was still staring in the direction Andre had disappeared with the black horse. When she turned to face him, her frown cleared.
“I suppose I should thank you for entering the competition and beating Mr. Gaynor. He didn’t appear to be the sort of man who would take no for an answer.”
“Defeat doesn’t seem to have had any effect on that characteristic, little one. Or did you not understand his meaning when you gave him the medal?”
“Oh, I understood him. I was just ignoring him.”
“I do not believe he is the type to be ignored.” Stephan led Sophie to the car and saw her seated. He quickly rounded the hood and got into the driver’s side.
“It may sound like cowardice on my part, but I am perfectly willing to let papa handle his persistence.”
“It’s not cowardice to recognize when you need help, Sophie.”
“Where are we going?”
Stephan had hoped to get just a little farther along the way before she asked that question again. Sighing, he turned to her.
“To
Calmons
Field,” he replied, giving her the name of the private airport close by.
“
Calmons Field
? You’re…you’re leaving?”
“Yes. I’ve already stayed far longer than I intended. I had scheduled a week for myself in my chalet, in the mountains above Korvan. It’s my annual vacation, and if I don’t go now, I won’t get one this year.”
“I see.”
Driving up to the small airfield a few minutes later, Stephan was pleased to see his father’s private jet waiting for him. He stopped the car at the gate and turned off the engine. Then, he turned to Sophie. The disappointment he’d heard in her voice gave him hope.
“Every attempt we’ve made to be together has been foiled, either by people or circumstance. I want to spend time with you alone. Come with me, little one.”
“Now?”
“Right now.”
“But…no arrangements have been made. My God, my family doesn’t even know where I am! Papa must be frantic. I need to call him.” She took a deep breath. There was such regret in her eyes, Stephan could have sworn he felt his heart skip a beat. “I have responsibilities. I cannot just…just leave.”
“I understand. But answer me one question. Do you
want
to come with me?”
“Yes.” There was no hesitation whatsoever in her response. When she reached up and stroked his cheek, his blood began to heat. “Yes, Stephan. I do want to. I really wish I could just say to hell with everything and run away with you for a week.”
“That’s something, at least. Come and kiss me goodbye?”
She took his hand when he offered it, and let him lead her toward the plane.
“I really wish we could have more time together,” she said softly. “I…well, I wanted to make love again.”
Stephan brought her hand to his lips and kissed it. “Have you seen father’s new toy?” he asked nodding toward the aircraft.
“No, although I did hear him telling Papa about it. He’s really very proud of it, isn’t he?”
“He is. Come, have a look. It would please him.”
“All right.”
Without any hesitation, she preceded him up the short gangplank and into the plane. Stephan nodded to the steward waiting to greet them. Sophie had stopped just inside the plane and was looking around. He stepped in front of her.
She turned her attention from the aircraft’s accoutrements to him. “It’s very luxurious. Those leather seats look very comfortable.”
“They are. And now I’ll claim my kiss.”
He took advantage of her distraction, settling his lips on hers and simply plundering. He didn’t think he’d ever get enough of the taste of her, or of the way she melted into him whenever he kissed her. When he wrapped his arms around her and lifted her off her feet, she wound her arms around his neck, her tongue as avid and eager as his own.
He sat down with her still in his arms, and she moved against him, snuggling into him with all the passion he could wish for.
When he clicked the seat belt and the plane began to move, she broke the kiss. Startled eyes looked out the window, then back at him.
“What is happening?”
“I’m reenacting one of the exploits of my great-great grandfather, Sophie. I’m kidnapping you.”
* * * *
She couldn’t have heard him correctly.
Before she could gather her scattered wits, the sensation of the plane accelerating on the runway, inertia pressing her against Stephan’s wide, muscular chest, then tilting back and the odd blend of gravity and weightlessness as the wheels left the tarmac – everything combined to rob her of the power of speech.
She’d never been a good flyer. However, her usual nerves and motion sickness didn’t stand a chance this time.
It was hard to be nervous when held so firmly against a strong male chest
.
As soon as she felt the plane level off, a voice came over the speakers to announce that cruising altitude had been reached, and there would be clear flying to Montgermane. When Stephan unfastened the seat belt she sat back and stared at him.