CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
“Wake up!” The words penetrated Emma’s consciousness like a slap stung her cheek. Female voice. “I need proof that you’re alive. Stop looking so dead.”
Thoughts foggy, she couldn’t make sense of the words. “Where am I?”
“Doesn’t matter. Open your eyes.”
Her mind fought against whatever they’d drugged her with. “Have I been kidnapped?
The woman’s hollow laugh chilled her. “Yes, darling. Yes, you have.”
“What do you want?”
“Information, that’s all. From your husband.” The sneering way she said the last word made Emma wonder if she knew their marriage was phony. Maybe they had found the missing contract.
Emma blinked against the light as her eyes cracked open. The woman wore a mask. A Cross of Blood mask, like the secret members had worn the night they’d come to the castle. Her gut clenched. Were they going to kill her? She didn’t trust that group one bit.
“Your husband keeps texting you. He’s getting worried.”
“He’s right to be worried,” she murmured, trying to get a good look at the room. She lay on her back on the hard surface of a long table, her hands and feet tied to the legs with something. Bare plaster walls, no furniture except a nearly empty bookcase. No windows. Must be some kind of a basement. “What information do you want?”
“A number. You’re going to call and ask him for it.
Emma recognized her voice from somewhere. She had a good ear for voices and remembered them much more easily than names or faces. She racked her mind, scrolling through people she’d met at the wedding, the coronation, until it dawned on her. This masked woman was Gemma, the one who had given Darias the gold cross but later turned out not to be a member of the Cross of Blood. What was she up to?
The woman held the phone up to her face. Unpainted nails and clean, soft hands. “When he answers, you’re going to tell him you’ve been kidnapped, and you need to know the code for the Cross of Blood account.”
“What makes you think there is one?”
She snorted. “None of your business. Ask him for it, then shut up while he says it. You can cry, though, or beg for mercy.”
She heard the phone ring, then Darias answer, “Emma, where are you?”
“I’ve been kidnapped.” She couldn’t see any reason to keep that secret. “They want a number. A bank account code or something.” She sounded strangely calm. Probably shock. Would he even believe her?”
“Where are you?” The tension in his voice told her instantly that he did believe her.
“I don’t know. Some kind of basement.” The woman snatched the phone away from her face and put it to her own. “The number now or she dies.” She attempted to conceal her voice by rasping.
“I don’t know what number you’re talking about.”
“Don’t be stupid. I’m holding a gun to her head right now.”
Emma wondered whether to yell, “She’s not!” but decided that might actually get her killed. She was pretty sure there was another person in the room, and they might have a gun.
“Emma, are you okay?” She could hear Darias’s voice even from far away.
“I am.”
“Shut up.” The woman smacked her across the mouth with her free hand. “The number now!”
“Um, hold on. Let me try to figure out which number you’re talking about. I only just joined the Cross of Blood. Maybe I should call them and—”
He was stalling. Emma could tell. Darias always spoke directly, with few wasted words. Maybe Gibran was with him right now, tracing the location of the call.
“Don’t call anyone.” Gemma—Emma was now nearly 100 percent sure—forgot to conceal her voice. Then she cleared her throat and started rasping again. “You were given the code during the initiation.”
“Was I? I don’t remember that.” Emma didn’t remember it either, but then she hadn’t heard the whole thing. “Maybe they decided to keep it secret. Is this why my father and grandmother died? Greed for money in some secret account they probably didn’t know about either?”
She heard Darias’s voice grow louder, even though the phone was several feet from her head.
“What is the number?” hissed Gemma.
“I told you, I’ll have to find out. Hold on. I have an idea. Let me go look at…” Emma couldn’t make out what he was saying. Or it didn’t make any sense.
“Don’t toy with me.” Gemma forgot to disguise her voice again. She moved toward Emma and pinched her hard on the arm. She didn’t cry out, so Gemma pulled her hair with vicious strength until an involuntary squeal left her mouth.
Gemma stared right at her, still tugging hard on her hair. “Am I hurting you, Emma?”
“Y…yes.”
“See, Darias? You need to pay attention. The number now! I’m going to call back in two minutes and you need to give it to me or you’re going to hear your wife die over the phone.”
She hung up. “Shit, I wonder if he’s tracing the call. I felt like he was just dragging it out.”
“He’s probably already given his phone to the chief of security.” Emma felt strangely calm and brave herself. At least Darias wasn’t here to get hurt or killed.
“Shut up.” She dropped her hair and smacked her again, making her cheek sting. “If he comes with anyone, we’ll kill you. You need to tell him that when we call back.”
Horror tightened Emma’s gut. The words that emerged in her mind were a mix of self-preservation and the ugly truth. “You can go ahead and kill me. He wouldn’t care.”
“What?” A male voice. From behind her head where she couldn’t see him. “Why not?”
“He doesn’t love me.” Maybe if she could convince them she was useless, they’d let her go without involving Darias. She didn’t want him to come here and end up dead, like his relatives.
Should she keep what was left of their secret or spill it to try to save them both?
“He only married me because he had to. We barely know each other. We already have plans to part after a year.”
The male let out a string of curses.
“She’s bluffing.” The girl again. “It’s nonsense. I’ve known him long enough to tell when he’s serious about something.”
If only that were true.
“Are you sure your greed hasn’t blinded you? If your plans made any sense we’d have got the code from the old lady. I’ve done everything you asked, and we still don’t have it.”
“We will. Stay calm. He was initiated into the Cross of Blood so he knows the code. All we have to do is get it out of him.”
“We could have just sold the damn cross when we had it. But no! You had to give it back to him into a dramatic gesture.” The young man’s voice grew whiny.
“You can’t fence something like that. It would have to be melted down and go for a fraction of its value. I only got it because I hoped the code was in it or on it somewhere. Focus on what we’re doing.” She hissed the last words angrily.
“But if he doesn’t give a rat’s ass about her…” His voice spat the last word in Emma’s direction. “He won’t come and he won’t tell us the number.”
“Trust me.”
“I’ve done everything you asked and look where the hell we are.” His voice was rough with desperation.
“I didn’t tell you to throw that stupid firework. What the hell were you thinking?”
“I got him to join the Cross of Blood, didn’t I?”
While they argued back and forth, Emma focused intently on the strips of fabric—bandages, maybe?—binding her hands and feet to the table. It was slightly stretchy, so if she could manage to move a hand or foot enough, without it being visible, of course, she might be able to—
“Stop moving!” The woman’s hand slapped her across the face again. Her cheek smarted from the repeated blows. Then she pulled up Emma’s phone. “It’s time to call him again. Just tell him to say the code or you die right now.” She punched in his number, then held the phone up to Emma’s face.
Blinking, Emma heard it ring. Her gut clenched as Darias’s low voice answered. “I know what code you’re talking about, but I have to go get it.”
“Be careful, Darias. They’re armed.” She had a gut feeling he was on his way here.
Gemma snatched the phone away. “The code, this instant, or she’s dead.”
“Gemma, is that you?” Emma heard Darias’s words.
Gemma panicked and hung up the phone. “Shit!” Emma could only see her out of the corner of her eye, from where she lay on the table. “He knows it’s me.”
“Why did you hang up? How can he give you the code? Give the phone to me.” The young man wrenched it rudely from her. He punched something, and she heard Darias answer immediately and ask, “Where are you?”
“Darias—if you don’t give me the code right now, your queen gets a bullet in her brain.” She heard a click and cold metal pushed against her temple.
She couldn’t stop a panicked whimper. The man, also masked, pushed it against her head harder. “Tell him I’m serious.”
“He has a gun.…” Her voice was a shaky whisper. She tried to sound louder. “A gun pressed to my head.”
“If you injure one hair on her head you will die today.” She heard Darias’s steely voice through the phone.
“Idle threats. You don’t know where I am.”
“That’s what you think.”
BOOM. Something pounded hard against the door. “What the—?” Her two assailants stood frozen for a second, then the man pulled the gun from her head, aimed it at the door and fired. The loud sound and the crunch of the bullet hitting the door made Emma scream. “Darias, he’s armed. Don’t come in.”
With a loud crunching sound, the heavy wood door exploded out of its doorway, and Gibran ploughed in over it and fired a bullet right into the armed man, hitting his arm, which dropped the gun.
Gemma reached for the fallen gun, but a guard launched from behind Gibran and pinned her to the floor, then another guard pushed the injured kidnapper to the floor. Emma fought against her bonds, cries for help pealing from her mouth even though she knew she should wait.
Darias crashed in from behind Gibran. “Thank God you’re okay.” The sight of him sent relief and waves of panic and joy pouring through her. He tugged at the bandages binding her left hand, then pulled a Swiss army knife from his pocket and slit them all. In seconds she was in his arms, pulled tight against his chest.
Her heart beat furiously as emotion swept through her. “I didn’t want you to come. They might have tried to kill you. I think they killed your father and grandmother because they wouldn’t give them a secret code from the Cross of Blood.” She spewed it out in a jumbled rush, wanting him to know that these were the murderers.
“We didn’t kill them,” Gemma protested. “We never killed anyone. We just want the money.” She was handcuffed and being led out by Gibran’s men. Her accomplice had already left, a trail of blood following him from his wounded arm.
“We’ll let the law figure that out.”
“What day is it? Have I missed my plane?” She didn’t want him to think that she imagined this somehow let her off the hook. She lowered her voice. “I told them about…you know.” She glanced at Gibran and the men, who probably still didn’t know that their marriage was a sham. Or maybe everyone knew by now. It might have leaked out if the family members were talking.
Darias’s face hardened, and he pulled back from her and inhaled. She braced herself for whatever he might say. “Emma Leone, I’m ashamed of myself for even thinking I could do such a thing. What kind of man asks a warm, kind and loving woman to sell her soul for a year?”
She swallowed. What kind of woman would agree? He must think very little of her now.
“And then bed her, to boot? What kind of a man does that?” He shook his head, dark eyes gleaming with…something. “I don’t know if I can ever forgive myself.”
“It’s okay. I shouldn’t have said yes, but I did.” Her heart was breaking. Darias would send her away. Neither of them should ever have embarked on such a deceitful course. Lying to his closest relatives, the people of Altaleone and the entire world. Now the truth was out he felt rightfully embarrassed—ashamed—by what he’d done. He would make amends. Maybe give her more money to hide herself away with and—
“I deserve to be horsewhipped for even coming up with such a despicable plan.”
She wanted to point out that it was actually Sandro’s idea, but that probably wouldn’t help anyone. “You did it for your mom,” she said. “And I did it for my brother. We didn’t want to hurt anyone.” She already forgave herself. Yes, the aftermath would hurt like heck, but she’d get through it.
Darias nodded, sudden tears glittered in his eyes. Was he thinking about how devastated his mom was by the crushing news that it was all fake?
“Emma Leone. I wish our marriage had started in truth and honesty, and with all the love and honor that I intend to shower on you for the rest of our lives together.”
What?
Face taut with emotion, he continued. “I love you with every ounce of my being. I love you in ways I never dreamed myself capable of loving anyone. I love you so much that living without you would drive me insane. I know you can never love me after the way I’ve used you, then seduced you. I don’t ask for your love. But I promise you from this day on I will do the best I can to be a kind and loving and loyal and truly faithful husband to you if you’ll only agree to stay with me, and perhaps in time you can grow to love me the way people did in the old days when they were forced into arranged marriages.”
Emma’s brain was spinning so fast she could hardly made sense of his words. He loved her and didn’t think she loved him? It seemed impossible.
She had been so, so careful never to let him know that she loved him. So sure that it would upset him or drive him away.
A tear did roll down over his hard cheek as he got down on one knee. “I never did propose to you, Emma. Not in any way a decent man would propose. But if you would do me the honor of being my wife, I’d be the happiest man alive.”
She couldn’t find words. “I’m already your wife.”
“Legally, yes. But one day, with enough time, I hope to win your heart and make you truly mine.”
A sob rose in her throat. Did he really not know that she loved him? “I love you.” The words emerged as a choked whisper.
“I know I don’t deserve a woman as good as you, but on my honor I will try my best to become a husband worthy of you, if you’ll only agree to stay with me.”
“I love you.” This time she managed to make the words more audible. “I do want to stay with you.” She could hardly believe this. Maybe she’d been knocked unconscious by the kidnappers, and this was some kind of feverish fantasy taking place in her injured brain. She used a recently freed hand to pinch herself.
I’m awake.
“Did you say you love me?” Darias looked stunned.
“Yes. I do love you. I’ve loved you for weeks now.”
He blinked. “All this time, and you never—?” He frowned. “Why would you say anything to me? I was being an ass. Trying to preserve my freedom”—he spat the word—“illusory freedom that means nothing to me.”
He took her hands and held them tight, then drew them to his mouth and kissed her fingers. “I don’t want to be free, of either my duty to my country or my marriage to you. I love you so much, Emma Leone.”
Tears fell so hard and fast that she couldn’t even see his expression. He took her in his arms and kissed her, and she kissed him back even harder and they embraced and held each other until her tears started to slow.
A man cleared his throat.
They both looked up. “If you’ll excuse me, sir.” It was Gibran. “The prisoners will be taken in for questioning. His wound will be treated, of course.”
“They’re likely the murderers, no matter what they say,” said Darias, showing far more presence of mind than Emma still had.
“Indeed. They will be treated as such.” Then a smile creased Gibran’s stern, sun-weathered face. “Congratulations, sir.”
Darias grinned. “Much appreciated.”
Back at the castle, a small group of reporters had already gathered outside in the dark as they walked in, flanked by security. “Did you catch the murderers?” “Will they be hanged?” “Is it true that she’s a bride for hire?”
Emma cringed under the last question. How did word get out so quickly? Was every word they said being recorded and leaked somehow? Or was it someone inside the family?
Darias stopped and turned to face them. “This woman is the love of my life. Our marriage may have started out as a convenient arrangement like those of my ancestors, but I promise you that no man—king or otherwise—ever loved a woman more than I love Emma.” His soft kiss on her cheek led to a flurry of camera clicks and flashes, and a hot surge of emotion that threatened to choke her.
Still, Emma was self-conscious enough to hope she didn’t look too awful after having her face slapped repeatedly.
“And do you love him, too, miss?” one older reporter called.
“I do.” She smiled at Darias.
He grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the castle doors. “They’ll keep us out here all night if we let them, and I can’t have that happen. I have my own plans for you.”
They showered together, soaping and caressing each other, unafraid of their own desire and with nothing to hide. Then they made love with passion and intensity she would never have dared to express before tonight.
“I love you,” she breathed at the moment of release, thrilled that she could finally say the words dancing on the tip of her tongue for weeks.
“I love you, too, Mrs. Leone.” Darias nuzzled her cheek. “I think I started loving you the first night we met, but I’m very slow on the uptake sometimes.”
“Probably all the royal inbreeding,” she teased.
“No doubt.” He nibbled her ear gently, sparking a rush of arousal. “All the more reason to marry a sexy commoner from New Jersey.”
“You can pretend you planned it that way all along.”
“No way.” He pulled back enough to gaze at her with a look that stole her breath. “No more pretense, no more lies. We’ll tell the truth and let everyone enjoy—or laugh at—the king whose best-laid plans to stay single led to him falling head over heels in love.”
THE END
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Read on for the short story about Darias’ brother Sandro’s whirlwind romance in A Prince for Christmas.