His Royal Princess Read online

  "I love you," he whispered.

  Early the next morning, Drake leaned over and gently kissed Celina. The stubble of whiskers on his chin scratched the tender skin around her mouth. A lifetime of lessons, and never once did they mention how stretched and tender one would feel after making love. Not unpleasant, but blissfully content.

  "I'm going to get out of here before Dad comes looking for me. I'm afraid he wouldn't like it if he knew I slept with you under his roof." He ran his hand down, tenderly skimming her breast. "Go back to sleep. After you wake up we can go out on the boat, if you like." He placed a kiss on her swollen breast.

  "I'd like." She stretched and purred. Yes, I'd like it very much.

  Celina lay back on the pillow and pulled the covers up over her shoulders. She snuggled down in the warmth of the blankets and closed her eyes. Only a couple hours of sleep, and she bet she might want a repeat of what they'd shared last night.

  ***

  The warm water flowed over Drake's body, relaxing his muscles. He rolled his head from side to side letting the spray from the nozzle hit him on the back of his neck. Who knew having sex would make the muscles he never knew about so sore the next day?

  Once he got a taste of Celina's limber body, he gave her one hundred percent of himself. He shut off the water and grabbed a towel. He had to talk to his dad immediately before things went any further.

  He'd already decided he wanted Celina to marry him. The moment she walked into the party his mind knew what his heart told him. He lathered the shampoo in his hair harder than necessary. His inability to protect Celina from the hurt she'd soon experience ate at his conscious. Natalia must come clean and sort out this mess that she and his dad had brought down on Celina.

  Finding out the truth behind the worry and strain he'd witnessed on her face shocked and angered him. Celina suffered over what she believed was the truth about her mother, and he possessed the power to help her...but he didn't. How Nat did those things to Celina puzzled him, and he wondered how she could look at herself in the mirror each morning.

  The time displayed on his clock radio forced him to hurry. He'd wasted too much time in the shower with his thoughts. If he gathered his dad, Natalia and Celina, and sat them down to hash all the secrets out...then afterward he'd ask Celina to become his wife.

  Drake knocked on the office door and opened it without waiting for Charles to allow him entrance. He came up short. His dad and Natalia sat together in the office chair cuddled together and apparently having a serious conversation.

  "Sorry, I didn't think you would have company this early in the morning."

  Natalia got up from Charles' lap and walked over to the window. His dad waved him in, and Drake closed the door behind him.

  "What's up, son?"

  "Actually, I'm glad you're both here. You need to come clean with Celina." Drake crossed his arms and remained standing.

  ***

  The aura of their lovemaking surrounded Celina upon waking. She turned over in bed, her mind working overtime. The implications of Papa finding out she'd taken a lover kept her from falling back asleep. She bunched the blanket in her hand. There must be consequences in America for having sex without marriage like the way Prince Joqua ruled over Antakian's laws.

  She threw off the covers and headed to the shower. She moved through her morning routine in record speed. Looking forward to a day on the boat with Drake, she'd have to remember to ask him about the kind of trouble their romance would produce.

  Celina knocked on Drake's door, checked in the kitchen for him, as well as out by the pool. There was no sign of him or Mrs. Stevenson in the house. She had only one other place to look. If Drake wasn't there, maybe Charles might have an idea where he'd gone.

  Several feet from the office door, Drake's voice reached her ears. She hurried forward, glad he hadn't left the house.

  "Goddamn it, I don't care if you don't want to do it now. It has to be done," Drake barked.

  Celina came to an abrupt stop outside the door and frowned. Why was Drake yelling? She'd never heard him raise his voice with such anger.

  "Simmer down, Drake, you can't talk—"

  "Yes I can. You don't understand."

  Celina placed her ear to the door.

  "...Her mother is dead...stoned to death by the prince."

  The blood rushed out of Celina's head, and her ears buzzed. She reached out to hold on to the door. Why would Drake tell Charles about her mother? Unless...

  "Drake...She's gone through so much. You can't do this to her."

  "I've slept with Celina..."

  The voices on the other side of the door became too quiet to hear. Celina covered her mouth and backed up, bumping into the wall. Oh God, what had she done? She couldn't stay here and let them punish her.

  Celina fled up the stairs, found the bag she'd carried from Antaka, and stuffed the dress from back home inside. She looked around for her shoes, but decided she wouldn't need them. If she succeeded, she'd go barefoot once she returned to the prince.

  The only way to get back to Antaka was with money, and Drake must have some in his bedroom. She'd sneak in and leave without anyone suspecting a thing.

  She didn't want to steal. Back home, if someone caught her stealing, she'd have had her fingers chopped off for punishment in Antaka. She muffled a sob. Without a job or income, she had no other choice.

  Why would Drake confess what they did? Did he want to see her punished? She thought he loved her.

  She left his bedroom door open and surveyed the most likely spot for him to have money lying around. She checked each drawer of the bureau. His clothes were stacked in organized piles, but no sign of any money hidden away.

  The scent of Drake hung heavy in the room, and she forced herself to ignore it. Never in her wildest dreams did she believe Drake wanted her stoned...and yet he'd confess their night together to Charles!

  How stupid! She'd rather go back to Antaka and pay for her crime rather than suffer her punishment alone in America without her family. Damn you, Drake.

  A money clip lay under an appointment book in his nightstand. Celina tossed the whole thing into her bag. An empty ache in her stomach had her second-guessing herself. She hesitated. No. She had to go home to Antaka, throw herself down in front of the prince, and ask for protection.

  The hallway remained quiet and deserted. She concentrated, listening for any creaks or groans coming from the house. Desperately afraid of Drake or Charles catching her, she clutched her bag to her chest, walked through the house, and out the front door.

  Celina ran down the street, around the corner, and slowed down to a fast walk as she entered the main street. She found an open café, entered, and took a seat by the window to keep an eye on the sidewalk.

  Opening the bag, she double-checked to make sure her identification and passport still rested in the side pocket. Yes.

  "Can I get you anything? A coffee?" a young waitress asked.

  Celina pushed everything back into her bag. She nodded, stood, and hoped she could figure out how to make a plane reservation, call a taxi to drive her to the airport, and escape America all on her own.

  "Is there a phone I can use?" She wiped the tears from her cheeks with the back of her hand.

  The waitress nodded and placed an arm around her. Celina walked with her to the kitchen.

  "Right here, honey. If you need anything, just yell." The woman rubbed her arm. "Are you okay? Do you need help?"

  She shook her head. "Thank...thank you."

  On the phone, the lady from the airline informed her of the cost of a ticket, and she counted the money she'd stolen from Drake. Yes. Drake had enough money saved to secure a ticket and see her way back to Antaka. Hanging up the phone, she inhaled. Now, she just had to hope Papa let her step foot off the plane.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Drake's meeting with his dad and Natalia did not go well. He made no excuses for falling in love and having sex with Celina. The problem stemmed from
them deceiving Celina for this long. He gave them the day to figure out what to do, and tonight they must tell her—or he would.

  Drake knocked on Celina's bedroom door, waited, and then opened it. He hated to do this to her, but he couldn't imagine how she went this many years thinking the man who raised her stoned her mother to death. He couldn't imagine the guilt and fear that hung over her head all her life.

  "Celina?" Drake strolled to her bed. "Time to wake up, sleeping beauty."

  He pulled the covers back. He turned toward the bathroom door. It stood open, and he walked in. "Hey, where did you go?"

  Drake walked out into the hallway. "Celina!"

  Charles and Natalia ran out of the office. He glared at his dad, pushed past him, and rushed to the kitchen.

  "Have you seen Celina?"

  Mrs. Stevenson stood at the sink cleaning a head of lettuce. "No, I don't think she has got up yet. I imagine she's tired after—"

  "Then where the hell is she?" Drake slammed the sliding doors to the patio open.

  "Drake, settle down. We'll find her. She might have gone for a morning walk."

  "No. She wouldn't have." He rubbed the back of his neck. "Something's not right. She was excited about going out on the yacht with me. She should be here."

  "What are you saying?" Nat reached out and held onto Charles.

  "We'll find her, son."

  "Will we, Dad?" He rounded on his father. "Something made her run away, and I can pretty much guarantee she overheard us talking and figured out everything you two did."

  Natalia cried out, and Charles gathered her to his chest. Drake stared out the door. His head throbbed. If anything happened to her out there alone, he'd never forgive himself.

  "She rarely went out of the house by herself." Charles rubbed Nat's back. "I'm not sure she even knows her way around enough to go far."

  "Damn it, Celina, where could you be?" He fisted his hair. "Maybe, she's hiding somewhere. If she did overhear our conversations, I imagine she's in shock. She's probably devastated."

  "Hang on, Drake, let's think."

  "Could she have tried to run back to Prince Joqua?" Natalia pressed her folded hands to her chest. "Antaka is home to her. She would want the comfort of her f-family."

  "She didn't have any money. I always offered to give her some cash, so she could splurge and buy something for herself, but she'd never take it." Drake let his chin fall to his chest. "The only thing she carried around was that damn free pass to play putt-putt golf."

  "She'd need money wherever she went, wouldn't she? We need to look in our rooms, see if she took money with her, and maybe we can figure out how far she can go." Charles kissed the top of Nat's head. "Come on, you can help."

  "I'll check my room." Drake ran out of the kitchen. He carried credit cards in his wallet and stuffed cash in his bedroom. God, Celina, why hadn't she waited until she'd talked with him? He could've explained everything

  The money clip wasn't in his bedside drawer. Over four thousand dollars in cash...gone. Drake sank onto the bed, his head in his hands. The charge to his heart set him afire with hope, and he chuckled. Good Girl, Celina.

  "Dad!" Drake opened his closet and grabbed his empty suitcase. "Nat, come here!"

  Charles and Natalia ran into Drake's room. He threw a handful of clothes into his suitcase. It didn't matter what he picked, any shirt and jeans would do. He wasn't planning on sightseeing. He was going to get the woman he loved and make everything up to her.

  "She took all the cash in my nightstand." He grinned.

  "How much?"

  "Over four grand. I know she went back home. Pack your bags. We're going to Antaka."

  Hang on Celina. Stay where you are. I'm coming to get you.

  ***

  It took Celina three days to reach Antakian soil with two layovers and an overnight stay in New York. She'd returned to wearing her robe, and her clothes she wore in America now sat in the bottom of the garbage can in the restroom at the O'Hare airport.

  She wiggled her toes in the sand, thankful for the familiarity of her country's soil. The customs guard had probably already sent a messenger over to her father. She stuck out her lower lip and blew the hair out of her eyes. No doubt Papa was preparing for her punishment as she journeyed to the palace.

  In her heart, she knew he might not do something so drastic as having her stoned. His love for her was real. But, she'd broken the law, and she held hope that she'd only have to serve time imprisoned in a jail cell. She'd count herself lucky if she could see her sisters and brothers one last time.

  The trek across town to the palace took fifteen minutes. She'd traveled the road all her life with her sisters on market day, and never did the journey appear endless like it did today. Each step she took, the pebbles beneath her bare feet seemed to extract their own punishment for all her bad choices.

  The gate to the palace opened, and she stopped to identify herself to the guard. He let her proceed without questioning her; proof that the guard at customs did, in fact, send a message to the prince ahead of her.

  Squeals and laughter from the courtyard and the sight of children enjoying the day beside their mothers greeted her as she walked through the square. She only needed to close her eyes and pretend she never left. Nothing had changed during her absence, except her. She came back more hurt than before she left. Maybe she wasn't worthy of being loved.

  Fifteen steps to the door of the palace. She counted each one, taking her time and delaying her arrival. Her mind was so confused; she couldn't even come up with a plan on how she could protect herself from the wrath of the prince.

  Linje stood guard at the archway into the palace waiting for her. Celina nodded, bowed, and waited for his directions.

  "Prince Joqua would like you to follow me, Princess Celina."

  Keeping her head down, she followed her papa's servant. She wasn't the same girl who had left here. She'd returned a woman. A woman experienced in how the Americans lived. Papa's wish that she become more like her mother came true. She now had a black mark against her, and she didn't like it.

  Linje stopped outside Papa's doors, and Celina strode past him through her papa's doorway holding her head high. Papa stood by his window with his back to her. It didn't skip her notice that none of his wives attended him. Oh, Papa. I've missed you so much.

  Papa continued to stand in front of the window, his hands clasped behind his back. She would not beg for his attention, although she wanted to. A part of her wanted to cry out and fling herself into his arms and beg his forgiveness, the same way she did when she was a child.

  "Why did you come back?" Prince Joqua asked.

  "I learned what I thought I should know in America and I have made the decision to return to Antaka."

  Papa turned. He crossed his arms in front of his chest and scanned his daughter from head to toe. She moved her feet closer together, ashamed of the dirty bare feet under her dress.

  "What have you learned?"

  Celina concentrated on a spot over his right shoulder. Her nerves reminded her of tempered glass, ready to break at any moment into a million pieces.

  "That Americans are not loyal. They will deceive you, only to further their plans, and leave you to deal with the damage they caused you." Although her voice remained strong and she kept her head up, she couldn't hide the tremble in her hands. Her fingers searched for her bracelets she always wore, and then remembered that she'd put them in her bag. It somehow seemed wrong to wear them anymore. She wasn't honorable enough to wear such a gift.

  Prince Joqua stood in silence, studying her closely. She blinked more than necessary. Tears threatened to come out. She wanted the prince to yell at her, punish her and acknowledge her.

  Maybe he really didn't care.

  Prince Joqua's face remained stoic. He stepped forward across the room with a long determined stride. She cast her eyes down the closer he came. His legs came into view, and a sob escaped her lips.

  "Come here, my daughter."
Prince Joqua opened his arms to catch his oldest daughter.

  She threw herself into his arms. The shield around her heart dissolved. Oh, Papa.

  He picked her up and cradled her in his arms, carried her to his pillows and sat down with her on his lap. She cried harder. He smoothed her hair back from her face with all the gentleness she remembered, and when he kissed her eyelids, she lost hold of her emotions completely. I loved him with all my body, Papa. I hurt so much...

  Prince Joqua sang to her, patted her back and waited for the sobs to subside. Eventually the tears stopped, and she inhaled without choking. Exhausted from the stress, the travel, the past, she only desired sleep.

  He held her long enough for her muscles to relax and for the loving embrace of her father to heal her wounds. "I never should have let you go." He brushed her hair away from her face. "My first child, you are home now. Safe. Let Papa fix all your problems."

  He covered his nearly sleeping daughter with a blanket and exited the room.

  Chapter Fifteen

  "Come join us, Celina." Danika tread water and propped her arms on the side of the pool.

  "Not now. Maybe later."

  Celina wrinkled her nose. The shrieks coming from the girls in the pool gave her a headache. Her nerves raged from the incessant chatter about what happened in America and why she came back, and she longed for a place to escape and find peace.

  Papa had kept his distance from her since she'd arrived home four days ago. She took his absence one day at a time and hoped it was sign that the prince thought she still deserved a place in the palace. It didn't ease the doubts worming their way inside her head, however. The wait was killing her.

  A movement out of her peripheral vision revealed Nari and her mother, Shanna, arriving to swim. Celina closed her eyes and pretended to rest. No matter how horrible her sister behaved, Shanna won the prize for creating the biggest thorn in her side.

  Her chair tilted, and she braced her feet to keep it from tipping over. It didn't surprise her for Nari to do something to irritate her more. She delighted in finding ways to torment her.