Read Her Prince's Secret Son Online

Authors: Linda Goodnight

Her Prince's Secret Son (13 page)

The woman studied her with dark Carvainian eyes and Sara wondered if she suspected that there was more to the relationship between Sara and Nico than a donor and recipient. “His Highness will miss you, ma’am. And all of Carvainia will be forever grateful for your sacrifice.”

“It was no sacrifice,” she said honestly. “Nico has won my heart.”

The nanny tweaked Nico’s chin with a smile. “He has that effect upon everyone.”

Sara hoped that was true, but the warning bell inside her mother’s head would not shut off.

“That bath?” she asked.

The nanny’s face softened. “Certainly, if Prince Nico agrees.”

The boy was already selecting toys to take into the water. “I want Sara to see my boat. It’s blue like Papa’s. And it goes,
brrr, brrr, brrr
in the water.” His little mouth made a motorboat noise that had the women sharing indulgent smiles.

Keeping her plastic smile in place, Sara went to give her son a bath for the first time…as well as the last.

 

Long after, when Nico was freshly scrubbed and smelling of bubble-gum-scented soap, Sara dressed him in pajamas and tucked him into his own bed. Now that the acute illness was over, he’d been returned to the normal nursery suite in the family wing.

Knowing that Aleks’s room was only steps away gave Sara a strange feeling. She wanted to see him, but she didn’t. Sad to say, she feared he’d drive her out of Nico’s room. Tonight she would fight to stay.

But the thought of leaving Carvainia without one more
glimpse of him and without a final chance to set things right, hurt almost more than she could stand.

“One more story, Sara?” Nico’s eyes fluttered shut but he forced them open again. “One more.”

She’d read until her throat was sore and the nanny had retired for the night. Still, she was as reluctant as her son to end the evening.

“One more.” She selected a board book and began to read the gentle rhyming text about a little train that would not give up. Nico wanted to see the colorful pictures but by book’s end, he could stay awake no longer. His eyes fell shut, the thick black lashes fluttering against his cheeks like dark butterflies. Clad in race car pajamas, his thin chest rose and fell in peaceful slumber.

Sara closed the book and held it in her lap, gazing down at her son with all the love bottled up inside. After the longest time, she snapped off the lamp, leaving only the sailboat night-light to cast a glow in the room. She leaned forward and kissed him.

“I love you, Nico,” she whispered against his velvet cheek. “Your mommy will always love you.”

The night had come too soon. She was not yet ready to be separated from her heart and soul. So she remained on the edge of the mattress, watching her baby sleep. Tomorrow night, she’d have only the memories.

When the night deepened, Sara began to nod, too tired and emotionally spent to remain upright. Unwilling to leave her son’s side on this final time in his company, she lay down on a rug between the bed and wall. No one would see her here. No one would ask her to leave. Not even Aleks.

Sara stretched one hand onto the bed to touch Nico and then she dozed.

She didn’t know how long she slept, but some time later, Sara
awakened with a start. Suddenly alert, she remained still, listening. Had she heard a noise? She listened hard, barely breathing.

Nothing except the rhythmic in and out of her son’s breathing.

It occurred to her then that she was no longer touching Nico’s foot. With a self-deprecating huff, she pulled her sweater closer against the chill. The noise she’d heard must have been her own hand falling off the bed.

But then the noise came again. An infinitesimal squeak of movement.

Her pulse kicked up. Someone
was
in the room. And that someone moved slowly across the floor and came to a stop on the other side of Nico’s bed.

Swallowing a lump of anxiety, Sara eased up to her knees.

What she saw made her blood run cold. A woman, shadowed by darkness, stood over Nico with a syringe in hand.

Sara leaped to her feet and demanded, “What are you doing?”

The woman jerked back, eyes blinking rapidly in confusion. In the night-light a familiar, ghostly face stared across at Sara.

“Maria,” she whispered. Her suspicions about the usually smiling nurse pushed to the front.

“It’s time for his medication.” There was something hard and desperate in the other woman’s voice.

A shot of fear-fueled adrenaline surged through Sara. Something was very wrong.

“He’s not supposed to have anything else tonight.” She stretched across the bed to grasp Maria’s upraised wrist. “What are you giving him?”

And why are you doing it under cover of darkness?

Maria yanked. Sara held fast.

A tug of war ensued. Leaning across the wide bed, Sara was in an awkward position, but she was not about to give in.

“He must have it. He must.” Maria’s eyes widened to a point of wildness. Tension corded the veins in her neck. “You don’t understand.”

“Then let’s call Dr. Konstantine. He can explain.”

“No!” she shouted. “Time is running out, you stupid American. All you’ve done is cause problems. It would have been over if not for you.”

Fear grew with every word that tumbled from the nurse’s mouth. “What would be over?”

“Recompense. Carlo deserves recompense.”

Sara clung hard to Maria’s hand. One slip and she could plunge the poison into Nico’s vulnerable body.

“It was you, wasn’t it? It was you trying to hurt Nico.” As she spoke, Sara held tight to the nurse’s wrist and crawled across the bed to form a shield between Maria and the child.

With a hiss, Maria yanked hard. Unbalanced, Sara lost her grip and fell headlong onto the floor. She watched in horror as the syringe plunged through the thigh of Nico’s pajamas. The child awoke with a scream. His small hands instinctively pushed at the offending needle.

Terrified, heart thundering, Sara grabbed Maria’s legs and forced her back from the bed. She grabbed for the syringe, knocking it away from her son.

Please don’t let any poison be injected.

By now, Nico sat up on his knees, eyes wide, sobbing uncontrollably. Sara longed to offer comfort but she was locked in a struggle with the wild and furious nurse. Arms around the woman’s waist, she tried to pull Maria as far away from Nico as possible.

“He must die,” Maria groaned, pounding at Sara’s hands, straining toward the little prince. “Your son must die.”

Stunned that Maria knew of Nico’s parentage, Sara’s grip
went slack. The nurse whirled and slammed a fist into her still-tender side. A groan of pain
oomphed
from Sara. She doubled over.

With what little breath she had, she yelled, “Run, Nico! Run to Papa. Run!”

Though he had to be terrified, the little prince obeyed, his short legs flying over the floor. Maria lunged for him, screaming like a madwoman.

Though hurting and breathless, Sara grabbed for the woman’s knees, pulling her down. They grappled on the floor. Maria quickly gained the upper hand. Somehow she’d retrieved the needle. She jabbed at Sara. Sara dodged to one side but not before the sting grazed her neck.

“Why did you come here? Why did you interfere? It would be over now.” Maria slammed another vicious blow into Sara’s side. Air whooshed from Sara in a scream of agony. Tears blinded her eyes. She struck out with her fingernails, clawing at Maria’s face. Maria’s strong fingers closed around her throat. Astraddle Sara’s chest, she leaned in close, spittle appearing at the corners of her mouth. “Die in his place. The mighty prince will suffer either way. He will suffer as I have suffered.”

The woman was raving mad. And insanely strong. She squeezed Sara’s throat and with a gleam of sadistic pleasure in dark, Carvainian eyes watched her adversary struggle for breath.

Spots danced before Sara’s eyes. She clawed at the larger woman’s hands to no avail. Her head throbbed. She was dying.

But her son was safe. Aleks was safe. Even if she died, Maria’s insane vendetta would end here and now.

A deeper darkness than she’d ever known began to close in. Maria’s rambling tirade against Aleks went on and on, but Sara could no longer comprehend. Her hands went lax. A quiet humming filled her ears.

Suddenly, light flooded the room and the terrible pressure disappeared. Sara coughed and instinctively rolled to one side, knees drawn up.

Maria’s stream of obscene ramblings increased, but she didn’t touch Sara again.

Forcing her eyes open, Sara saw Aleks restraining the woman. Maria kicked and thrashed and spat. Face grim and full of sorrow, Aleks simply held her and let her rage.

“Murderer, murderer! You killed my son. You deserve to suffer the way I have. A son for a son. A son for a son.”

The thunder of footsteps shook the floor as a host of security guards rushed in to take charge. Maria’s cries of “a son for a son” echoed in the corridor as she was dragged away.

Certain now that Nico was safe, Sara let the blessed darkness overtake her.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

A
DRENALINE JACKING
from every pore, Aleks fell to his knees beside the red-haired woman. Curled in a fetal position, she was unconscious. Blood oozed from scrapes on her face and neck, and bruises in the shape of fingers already formed around her throat. But she lived. Thank God, she lived.

He shuddered to think what might have happened had he not been sleepless tonight. When he’d heard Nico’s cry for help, he’d known something terrible was happening and had not hesitated.

“Sara.” Heart in his throat, he scooped her easily into his arms, cradling her against his body as he would a child. “Sara, my love. Sara, my love.”

His voice broke. She’d always been his love and out of fear and stupidity, he’d rejected the best thing, other than Nico, that had ever happened in his life. All this time she’d been correct about Maria. Was she correct about other things, as well?

Her eyelashes fluttered. Her mouth barely moved.

“Nico?” she said through a throat hoarse from trauma.

Aleks’s insides ached. A nightmare had unfolded but he was wide-awake. Thank God Sara had not given up. “He is safe with his grandmother and a host of bodyguards. No one will get near him. You have my word.”

“Check his blood. She stabbed him. The needle. I think I got it in time. Be sure.”

Aleks cast a quick look around the floor and saw a filled syringe resting against the leg of the chair. The pounding in his head increased.

“Landish,” he said to one of the remaining bodyguards. “Take that syringe to Dr. Konstantine. Tell him Nico may have been injected.”

“Done.” The man was gone in seconds.

Relief flickered through Sara’s sea-blue eyes before she closed them again.

Around him, the remaining pair of bodyguards stood, normally placid faces furious at this affront on their ability to protect the castle. He understood. Sometimes a man failed to protect what mattered most.

“I will take Miss Presley to my apartment. When Dr. Konstantine is available, ask him to come to her. She needs attention.”

If the men thought anything unusual about the royal prince taking a woman to his rooms, they didn’t show it. One left straightaway while the other trailed Aleks down the corridor to stand guard outside the door. Aleks thought the effort useless at this point. The threat was over, but tonight was not the time to address the security breach. They had erred, but so had he.

Carrying Sara through to his sleeping area, he gently placed her on the bed. She was beautiful beyond words, inside and out. Why had he ever doubted her?

“Ah, my Sara, I am a fool.”

Just then, Dr. Konstantine bustled in, hair sprouting in all directions. “By the heavens, Your Majesty, what is going on here tonight?”

“Did you receive the message about the syringe?”

“Still full. But I have ordered blood work to be certain. I cannot believe Maria is responsible. Tell me this is false.”

“I wish I could.”

Aleks apprised the physician of what he knew. He still could not fathom the kind and smiling mother of his best friend as a murderess. The truth wounded like a poison arrow.

“Security is questioning Maria but she seemed completely deranged.” And he had been completely duped by her smiling pretense. Maria’s grief had festered into hatred, poisoning her mind and heart. “I doubt they’ll determine much tonight. For now, I must go to Nico and the queen and assure them that the threat is over.” And to assure himself that his son had, indeed, escaped further harm.

“Go then, I’ll take good care of your woman.”

Aleks was halfway out the door before he realized what the doctor had said.

 

Sara awakened in a strange room. Her body ached all over, and she could barely swallow. She touched her throat. Was she coming down with the flu?

As she pushed back the fluffy covers, the events of last night flooded in. Her pulse bumped.

“Nico,” she whispered.

She grabbed for the telephone beside the bed and dialed Aleks’s private number. When he answered, she blurted through a raspy voice, “Is Nico all right?”

A pause on the other end. “You are awake?”

Obviously. “Nico? Tell me.”

“He is well and full of an adventurous tale of a brave woman who saved him from the bad nurse.” Aleks’s tone was tired and sad. “He is in the next room having breakfast with his grandmother.”

“Thank God.”

“Indeed. You can be proud of your son. He sounded the alarm. But if not for you…” His voice trailed off. He cleared it.

Sara gripped the receiver, reliving last night’s close call. “We were fortunate Maria decided to make her move before I left Carvainia.”

“It was not luck. According to her confession, a rendering that made my blood run cold, she overheard our argument yesterday. She had planned to poison Nico over a period of months and force me to sit by helplessly as he died.”

“Why did she change her mind?”

“You.”

“Me?”

“She intended to administer the final overdose last night and leave evidence blaming you. You and I were already at odds. You were the obvious outsider. She had somehow learned of your relationship to Nico…and to me. She thought we would believe you had poisoned Nico as payback for revoking your visa.”

“I would be blamed, and you would be punished.”

He emitted a tired sigh. “Her revenge knew no bounds.”

Sara’s heart ached for him. “She truly is deranged.”

“Yes.” His voice was sad. “She even knew of a secret passage in the medical wing.”

Sara gasped. “So I did see her go into Nico’s room that time?”

“Yes. She laughed, rather maniacally I might add, because you’d seen her and no one believed you. I had no idea she hated me. None. And yet, you saw what I couldn’t.”

“I saw because I
am
an outsider, Aleks.” A fact that pained her no end. “Your loyalty to Carlo’s memory blinded you.”

“Emotion. How does a leader separate emotion from reason?”

She had no answer for him. And in truth, one of the things she loved about him was his depth of feeling. No matter how hard he tried to hide it, he cared deeply. “What will happen to Maria?”

He drew in a long, quivering breath. “No matter what she’s done, she is still the mother of the man who saved my life, a man who was my best friend. For him, I will take care of her.”

“I expected no less.”

If her sentiment surprised him, he didn’t react. “There is an exceptional facility in Switzerland. She is on her way there, under heavy guard and sedation, of course. She will receive excellent care, but she will never be released.”

“You must be shattered.”

“I have suffered worse. Much worse.” But he didn’t elaborate. Instead he said, “I will send breakfast and Antonia to you. Rest. Last night was terrible for all of us, but for you most of all.”

“But, I’m leaving today.”

There was that pause again. “We need to talk. I will be up soon.”

Before she could respond, he hung up.

An hour later, after she’d eaten and dressed, Sara paced the apartment, aware that Aleks had brought her to his room last night. But he had not slept here. Why had he done so? And what did he mean when he’d said they needed to talk?

Did she dare hope that he’d let her remain in Carvainia in some capacity? Perhaps as a nanny or a maid? At this point, she’d do anything to be near her son—and the man she loved.

Penny would call her a blind doormat, but she would rather be a servant here with the people she loved than alone in her Kansas bookshop.

A soft knock sounded on the outer door. She hurried to open it, finding both Aleks and his mother outside. She shrank back. Was this a two-pronged attack?

“May we come in?” Aleks asked, his expression giving nothing away.

Regardless of the grave situation, Sara couldn’t help herself. “Considering this is your apartment, I suppose so.”

She stepped aside and let them enter, trailing along, as tense as a bowstring as they went into the living quarters. The room was tastefully sumptuous, as befitted a prince, but the only thing in it that mattered to Sara was the prince himself.

The two women chose sofas opposite one another. Sara perched on the cushion edge, anxious and uncertain. The queen smoothed the unwrinkled hem of her suit skirt and sat with stiff, boarding school posture. As though purposefully choosing a neutral position, Aleks took a chair at one end between the two women.

The tension in the room was nearly visible.

Queen Irena spoke first. “I don’t expect you to welcome me, Miss Presley. But you must hear the truth before you do anything else.”

The queen, whose nose was normally raised in distaste, seemed subdued this morning. Her hands twisted in her lap, worrying an elegant, crested handkerchief. Black eyes, filled with loathing only yesterday, now swam with some other emotion.

Sara glanced from the queen to Aleks and back again. “The truth about what?”

“That’s what we’ve come to talk with you about, Sara,” Aleks said. “My mother and I had a long conversation this morning. She has something to tell you. And so do I.”

In fisted hand, Irena’s handkerchief went to her lips. A sob
broke through, stunning Sara. The stiff-necked queen was crying? In the presence of a peasant?

“I have done you a great disservice,” Irena said with a wobbly voice. She glanced at Aleks, eyes full of sorrow. “Both of you. Five years ago, Aleks was at war. He could not stop thinking and worrying about the red-haired American he had left behind. He could not come to you himself, so he sent me as his envoy.”

Sara sucked in a stunned gasp. Her gaze flew to Aleks. “You were telling the truth?”

“Yes.” His look was grim. “And there is more.”

“You must understand, Miss Presley, I had nothing against you personally but you are not Carvainian. You are not of royal lineage. I could not allow my son, the ruler of a great nation, to marry a common American.”

Sara’s hand went to her throat. The ramifications of the queen’s confession ricocheted through her. Aleks had not lied. He
had
loved her. He had tried to contact her.

She began to tremble with a great and terrible sorrow.

But the queen was not finished. “When I discovered the pregnancy, I went to great lengths to obtain the child. A beautiful son would be enough to soothe Aleksandre’s pain when he learned of your rejection.”

“But I didn’t—I never—”

Queen Irena lifted an elegant hand. “No, you did not, but Prince Aleksandre believed you did. I told him this and many other untruths about you, including the payment you exacted for the sale of your child. You must believe me. I thought I was doing the right thing for everyone. For my country, my son and my grandson.”

“And for yourself?”

Fresh tears sailed down Irena’s proud face. “Can you forgive me?”

On shaky legs, Sara rose and moved away from the queen’s pleading gaze. Forgive? How did she forgive such a wrong? How did she put aside the ocean of tears and the months of depression?

“I never fed him a bottle,” she murmured, as much to herself as to the present company. “I wasn’t there for his first steps. Or his first words.”

She’d only dreamed about them, imagining each and every milestone.

“I am sorry, so very sorry.”

“All that time Aleks hated me. He believed the worst lie of all. He thought I did not want him or his son.” Glaring at the queen, Sara squeezed both hands against her bursting chest. “
Our
son.”

With a soft groan, Aleks bolted from the chair and moved to the fireplace where he braced both hands against the stone mantel.

Queen Irena’s dark gaze followed her son. “Prince Aleksandre has never hated you, my dear. That has been the problem. He wanted to hate you. I wanted him to. But he could not.” She patted her cheeks with the handkerchief. “Please, come and sit. Hear me out. If you judge me harshly, it is no more than I deserve. But you must hear what I have to say—all of it.”

Agitated, but relieved that the truth was finally coming to light, Sara did as Irena asked. Her stomach cramped and her back still hurt from fighting Maria, but an odd kind of hope kept sprouting up inside her like a persistent weed that simply would not give up and die.

“I failed my son and my grandson,” Irena went on. “Both then and now. During the months since your arrival, I have been so focused on ridding the castle of your presence lest
Aleksandre discover my deception, that I did not see the danger to Nico. You saw it.” Reaching out, she leaned forward as if to touch Sara’s knee. “A mother knows things with her heart that others cannot see.”

Sara knew the words were true. Her heart had known something was wrong, even when she’d had no solid evidence. “Yes. I knew. Somehow I knew.”

“I am grateful beyond words, Sara Presley. If not for your persistence and determination and yes, your love, Nico may have died.” She choked on a sob and took a moment to compose herself.

Tears welled in Sara’s eyes, too. “Last night could have been worse. Maria could have succeeded.”

“Except for your bravery, she would have.” Haughtiness gone, the queen rose, still worrying the now-wrinkled and damp handkerchief. “That is why I am here this morning. I deeply regret my actions as well as my arrogant pride and elitism. I was wrong. A queen is not made by blood. She is made by strength of character and her love of country and of her prince. You will make a far better queen than I.”

With a deep, sweeping curtsy that stunned Sara and left Aleks gaping, Queen Irena took her leave.

As the door whispered shut, Sara murmured, “What just happened?”

Aleks pushed away from the fireplace. “I have only seen her this broken once before—when my father died. My mother did us both a terrible disservice, Sara, but she is a fine woman and a good queen.”

“She loves her princes very much.” It was the only concession Sara was ready to give to a woman who had ruined her life.

“Indeed. She loves us enough to do anything to protect us, even if we do not wish to be protected.”

In a way, Sara understood. Didn’t she feel this way about Nico? “But all these years, you believed a lie about me.”

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