Royal Weddings: The Reluctant Princess / Princess Dottie / The Royal MacAllister

“I did.”

“When?”

“A few days ago.”

“You…you called her? On the phone?”

“I did.”

“But you two haven’t spoken in—”

“A very long time.”

“She hasn’t said a word to me about it.”

“I don’t find that in the least surprising.” Her father’s voice wasn’t as icy as a moment ago—but there remained a distinct chill in it.

“I don’t understand.”

“It’s quite simple. I called your mother. I asked that she send you and your sisters for a visit. She refused. I tried to get through to her. I pointed out that I’m your father, that I’ve waited all these years and I have a right to know my daughters. She wouldn’t listen. She told me that you and your sisters wanted nothing to do with me, that I was to leave you alone and stay out of your lives. And then she hung up on me.”

Elli knew for certain now that she wouldn’t leave Sacramento before she’d had a serious talk with her mother. “Father.” The word still felt strange in her mouth. “I’m an adult, past the age when my mother decides what I can or can’t do. I make my own plans. And I plan to come and visit you. It’s Monday night. Give me two days. By Thursday morning at the latest, I will be on a plane, on my way to Gullandria.” She added, with a meaningful glance at the Viking sitting still as a statue across from her, “You have my word of honor on that.”

There was a silence on the other end. Even the static stopped. And then her father said thoughtfully, “Your word of honor…”

“Yes. My word of honor.”

“Put Hauk on.”

She felt irritation rising. “Why do you need to talk to—”

“Please, Elli. Put him on.”

Elli marched over to the Viking. “Here. Tell him my word of honor can be trusted.”

He took the phone. “Yes, my lord…yes…yes, I do…” He listened. His face remained expressionless, but something in the set of his jaw told her he didn’t much care for whatever he was hearing. “Yes, Your Majesty,” he said at last and gave her the phone back.

She spoke to her father again. “Satisfied?”

Her father answered calmly. “I think we have an agreement.”

“We do?”

“That’s right, my daughter. Speak with your mother if you must. And be on that plane by Thursday morning.”

Elli smiled. “Great. Thank you, Father. I’m looking forward to seeing you at last.”

“And I’m looking forward to seeing you.” His voice was tender again. “So very much.” Then he added offhandedly, “Hauk will stay with you. He’ll see you safely to my side.”

The Viking was still staring at her. Elli spun away from him, stalked back to the couch and plunked down onto it. She sent a fulminating glance across the room before she muttered into the phone, “You have my word. There’s no need for—”

“Elli. He stays with you.” Her father’s tone was flat. Final.

She could speak flatly, too. “You know what this tells me, Father? You don’t trust my word.”

His tone softened and acquired a wheedling note. “Humor an old man. Please.”

Her father was in his early fifties. Old, by Elli’s standards—but not that old. “Oh, stop. I know you’re working me.”

“This is one point on which I cannot back down.” He was all firmness again. “Accept it. You will have the time you want to do whatever you say needs doing—including visiting your mother. But Hauk will not leave your side until he’s delivered you safely into my presence.”

“You think Mom is going to talk me out of coming, don’t you?”

“I do.”

“She won’t. I swear it.”

“Better safe than sorry. I do, after all, know your mother.”

She looked across at Hauk again. Till Thursday—and beyond—with him right there, watching, every time she turned around. “I’m really not happy about this.”

“It’s my only condition.” He said it as if it were a tiny thing—something so inconsequential, it meant next to nothing. “Accept it and we’ll find ourselves in perfect agreement.”

Elli said goodbye to her father and immediately called her mother. She made that call brief. She wanted to speak to Ingrid in person about her trip—and about the call Ingrid had received from her father, the one Ingrid had failed to mention up till now.

“Are you all right?” her mother asked. “You seem…pensive.”

Elli glanced across the room. Hauk was still there, in the chair, looking on.

Might as well get used to it, she told herself. She reassured her mother that she was fine and made a date with her—dinner at Ingrid’s house in Land Park the next night.

After her mother, Elli managed to reach her principal at home. She spoke—somewhat vaguely—of a family emergency, said she had to leave within a couple of days. Her boss was far from pleased. Elli was in her first year with her own classes and didn’t have a lot of leave built up.

He said that yes, he would call the district for her and get someone to start tomorrow. Then he asked the logical question, “How long will you be gone?”

Unreality smacked her flat again. She hadn’t even considered how long her trip might last.

But it couldn’t be that long. It was a visit. A visit lasted… “Three weeks,” she said, getting up and going to have a look at her kitchen calendar. “I’ll be back and in my classroom by the twenty-seventh.” At least that way, she’d be there for the final two weeks of school. She reassured him that her lesson plans were all in good order. The substitute should have no troble figuring things out. But should a problem arise, Elli would be in town for a day or two. The sub could give her a call.

Somewhat grouchily, her boss wished her well. She realized, as she hung up the phone, that this trip could possibly cost her her job.

Elli was fortunate, and she knew it. She didn’t need the money. Her mother was, after all, a Freyasdahl. And anyone with any awareness of who was who in California knew that being a Freyasdahl meant you had money—and lots of it. Elli could live quite comfortably on the proceeds from her trust. But she loved teaching and she took pride in her work. It bothered her to think she was letting her school—and especially her two classes of kindergartners—down.

She glanced over, saw Hauk again, huge, bemuscled and implacable.

Well. She’d made a promise and she would keep it. Might as well put a bright face on it.

She flashed the Viking a big, fake smile. Those golden brows drew together and he looked at her sideways, his chiseled face set in suspicious lines.

“Tell you what,” she said, so cheerfully it grated on her own nerves. “You just make yourself right at home.” She dared to get close enough to grab her suitcase from where it waited, upright, beside him. “And if you don’t mind, I think I’d prefer to do my packing for myself.” She turned and marched away from him down the hall.

In her bedroom, she hoisted the suitcase onto the bed. She left it there, unopened, and went into her bathroom, where she took care to engage the privacy lock.

She planned to use the toilet, but somehow she found herself leaning over the sink, staring at herself in the mirror. Her eyes looked huge and haunted. Her face was too pale, except for the cartoon-red splotches of hectic color high on her cheeks.

“I want to go and meet my father,” she told her slightly stupefied reflection. “I want to do this.” At the same time, she was still having serious trouble believing any of it was really happening. Not long ago, she’d been carrying her groceries up the stairs, humming a tune that had been playing on the radio in the car, thinking about what she’d fix for dinner.

Now everything was changed. She was going to Gullandria.

She used the toilet, washed her hands, brushed her hair and got another long, cool drink of water from the tap. She put on fresh lip gloss.

And then she went out to face the Viking—which happened sooner than she expected, as she found him standing beside her bed.

She shrieked in outrage. “Get out!”

“Princess, it is not my intention to frighten you.”

It was too much—him here, in her bedroom. She made shooing motions with both hands and shouted, “Out, out, out!”

“Silence!” he boomed back, then reminded her, way too softly, “Remember your promise. No loud noises.”

She lowered her voice to a furious whisper. “That was before, when you were kidnapping me. Now you are merely my… escort. And I want you out of my room.”

Instead of leaving, he came toward her. Those huge, heavily muscled legs were so long, it only took about a step and a half.

She wasn’t afraid of him—she wasn’t. But she couldn’t stop herself from shrinking out of his path when faced with all that size and power coming right at her. He was so tall that the hair at the crown of his head brushed the top of the doorframe as he entered her bathroom.

She moved into the doorway behind him, folding her arms across her middle to keep her fists from punching something. “What in God’s name are you doing?”

He didn’t even bother to answer her, just started checking things out, opening the slatted pebbled-glass window and peering down at the carports, looking in her cabinets at her towels and extra bars of soap, sweeping back the shower curtain to view the tub.

“What, you think I’ve got someone hidden in the tub? You think I’m planning to bust out—just take all the slats out of that window and jump onto the hood of somebody’s Jetta? Oh, puh-lease.”

Apparently, he had finished his invasion of her privacy, because he stood still, facing her. “My orders are to guard you closely, Princess—to stay at your side at all times, to see that you don’t change your mind about your agreement with His Majesty. I’m doing that and only that. You came in here very quickly. I felt it wise to find out if there was some reason for your haste.”

“I came in here quickly because I had to go to the bathroom. Is that a problem for you, if I go to the bathroom?”

“No, Princess.” He stood with that huge chest thrust out, shoulders back, his arms tight to his sides, a soldier at attention.

“And let’s back up here for a minute. Is that really what my father told you, to…guard me closely, to stay at my side all the time?”

“Yes, Princess.”

“I think I’m going to have to talk to my father again.”

The Viking didn’t move.

“Did you hear me? I said, contact my father again. I wish to speak with him.”

“I’m sorry, Your Highness. I can’t do that.”

“Sure you can. Just go get that beeper thingy and—”

“Princess.”

“What?”

“Your father told me he didn’t wish to be disturbed again. He said he was certain you’d think of an endless list of new questions as soon as you hung up the phone. He told me to tell you he would answer them all—”

She knew the rest. “When I see him in Gullandria.”

“That is correct, Prin—”

“Hauk.”

“Yes, your—”

“If you call me princess—or Your Highness—one more time, I think I’m going to forget all about my promise and my honor and start screaming. Then you’ll have to tie me up again and that will make me very, very angry. And you don’t really want me angry, now, do you?”

“No, P—” He caught himself just in time. “No.”

“Well, all right then. Don’t call me Your Highness and don’t call me princess.”

“As you wish.”

“And now, will you please get out of my bedroom?”

“If you’ll come with me.”

She threw up both hands. “All right, all right. Let’s go.”

Elli went straight to the kitchen. It was almost eight by then and her stomach was making insistent growling sounds.

Of course, Hauk followed right behind her. That was okay, she supposed. She’d resigned herself to feeding him, too.

“Sit down,” she told him and threw out a hand in the direction of the table. “Over there.”

He took the chair that put his back to the wall. He could see down the hall and into the living room and, of course, he had a clear view of her activities in the kitchen. The man certainly took his duties seriously. How did he do it? So much watchfulness had to wear a person out.

She pulled open the refrigerator and stared at the chicken she’d brought home to roast. It would be enough for both of them, but it would also take almost two hours in the oven.

No. She was hungry now.

She considered a quick trip to Mickey D’s or Taco Bell.

But then again, it wasn’t as if she’d be allowed to just jump in her car and go. The king’s warrior would have to be consulted. They’d have to wrangle over whether she could go at all. Then, if he allowed it, he’d insist on going with her. He’d decide who would drive—she was betting on herself. That way he’d have his hands free to deal with her if she broke her word and tried to leap to freedom from the moving vehicle. Then there’d be the question of whether she could actually be trusted to speak to the order taker at the drive-up window….

Uh-uh. Fast food was a no-go.

Elli tried the freezer. Ah. A pair of DiGiornos. Perfect. She glanced at the huge man in her kitchen chair again and decided she’d better cook both the three-meat and the deluxe.

When she set a plate before him, he frowned. “It is not necessary that you cook for me.”

And what was he planning to eat if she didn’t?

Better not even get into it. “It’s nothing fancy—pizza and a salad. Just eat it, okay?”

He dipped his shaggy golden head. “Thank you, Pr—” He stifled the P-word, barely. “Uh. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

She had a nice bottle of chardonnay chilling. She’d grabbed it at the supermarket, thinking she’d have a glass with her roast chicken. She decided to open it now. She needed something to help get her through the night.

Elli set out two glasses, but when she tried to pour one for Hauk, he put his great big hand over the mouth of it. Well, fine, she thought. Be that way. More for me. She filled her own glass to the brim and sat opposite him. They ate in silence. Elli indulged in a second glass of wine.

She was feeling pleasantly hazy when she got up to put the dishes in the dishwasher. Hauk rose with her. He helped her clear off, and actually took the sponge and began wiping the counters as she rinsed the plates and put them in the dishwasher. She turned and looked at him, sponging her table, carefully guiding the pizza crumbs into his massive paw of a hand—and she couldn’t help it. A goofy giggle escaped her.

He straightened—still holding the crumbs cupped in his hand—and turned to her. “You find me humorous?”

“I…uh…” She waved a hand. “Never mind. It’s nothing.”

He came toward her. Maybe it was the wine, but for the first time, she didn’t feel particularly menaced by the sight of all that muscle moving her way. She stepped back a fraction, so he could brush the crumbs into the sink. Then she took the spray attachment and rinsed them down the drain. He handed her the sponge. She rinsed it, wrung the water from it and set it in the wire basket under the sink.

“Well,” she said. “That’s that.”

He nodded. And then he just stood there—awaiting orders, she supposed.

It was 8:50. A little early for bed under ordinary circumstances. But ordinary had nothing at all to do with tonight. She wanted some time to herself, for Pete’s sake, a few hours without the ever-watchful eyes of the king’s warrior tracking her every move. And the only way to get that was to say good-night and shut her bedroom door.

“Listen.” She tried a smile on him.

He gave her another nod.

She told him, “I’m just going to make up the futon in the spare room for you. You’ll find fresh towels in the cabinet to the right of the sink in the hall bathroom. And if you want to watch a little television, the living room is all yours—oh, and if you get hungry, hey, if I’ve got it, you can eat it.”

He just stood there, looking at her. She knew with absolute certainty he had something to tell her that she wasn’t going to like.

“What?” she demanded.

“Your intention is that I sleep in your extra room and you sleep in your own bedroom.”

“Something wrong with that?”

“It appears you haven’t clearly understood the agreement you made with His Majesty.”

She backed up a step, slapped a hand down on the counter tiles and glared at him sideways. “What are you talking about? I agreed to go visit him. I agreed that you could hang around in my apartment until it’s time to go, keeping an eye on me so I won’t change my mind. I agreed that you would be my escort to Gullandria.”

“Yes, all that is correct.”

“Good. So we know what I agreed to. And I’m going to bed.” She moved forward. He didn’t move aside. “Hauk. If you don’t tell me what is going on here…” She let the threat trail off, mostly because she couldn’t think of anything sufficiently terrible to threaten him with.

“All right,” he growled. He looked especially bleak right then. “His Majesty instructed me to watch over you at all times. That means wherever you sleep, I sleep as well.”

Chapter Four

“That’s the most ridiculous thing I ever heard,” the princess announced. “I never agreed to sleep with you. My father never said a word about my sleeping with you.” She shook her head as if to clear it. “Why would my father want me to sleep with you?”

Hauk realized she’d drawn an erroneous conclusion. “Of course you would not sleep with me. But whatever room you sleep in—I will be there, also.”

She blinked, and then she said, very slowly, “You think you’re going to sleep in my room.”

“It is of no consequence to me what room I sleep in. I’m merely informing you that it will be the same room as the room in which you sleep.”

“But I don’t… Did he say that to you, did he actually say you had to sleep in the same room with me?”

“He said not to let you out of my sight.”

“Ah.” She slapped the counter again. “But you did, remember? You let me out of your sight when I went to the bathroom and nothing happened. I’m still here.”

By the runes, he hated arguing with this woman. She was too clever by half. “You have a right to your privacy, when it comes to…private matters. But not for hours. There are windows in every room. Given time, you could easily find a way to escape without my knowing it.”

“But I won’t escape. I gave you my word that I wouldn’t.”

“And I am ordered by my king to make certain that you keep your word.”

Those proud slim shoulders slumped. She looked away. “I’m not going to win this one, am I?”

He wanted to say, No, Your Highness. But she had forbidden him the use of her title.

He also wanted to say he regretted this—all of it. But she had ordered him to stop apologizing.

And he might as well admit she was right—not about his addressing her properly. He didn’t like the familiarity she was forcing on him by making him drop the appropriate form of address. But as to his regrets, well, they had no more value than a promise made by Loki, the god of dirty tricks.

It was what a man did that mattered, not what came out of his mouth. And what Hauk would do was continue to follow the orders of his king.

She asked, sounding forlorn, “Will you at least leave me alone while I take a bath?”

Hauk allowed her the bath.

But she couldn’t relax. She lay in the scented water, thinking of the huge man waiting on the other side of the door, knowing that if she stayed in there too long, he’d be busting in to see what trouble she’d gotten into now. After ten minutes or so, before the water even started to cool, she got out, toweled dry, pulled on her pink sleep shirt, and quickly brushed her teeth.

He was waiting in the middle of her bedroom. He’d found some blankets and a pillow and laid them out on the carpet at the foot of her bed. Her suitcase was still there, on the bed where she’d tossed it, full of whatever he’d chosen to put in it while she lay, drugged and bound, on the couch in the living room.

“I took bedding from your closet in the hallway,” he said, his head tipped down, as if he expected a reprimand.

Who cared if the man borrowed a blanket? He could borrow a hundred blankets—if he’d only take them in the spare room to sleep on them.

Elli crossed her arms over her chest—a gesture of self-protection. All of a sudden, she felt way too naked, though her sleep shirt was baggy and reached almost to her knees. She stared at the Viking, biting her lip.

Maybe she could bear it, having him in her bedroom all night, if he wasn’t quite so…masculine. He was very controlled, but still testosterone seemed to ooze from every pore. And then there were all those hard, bulging muscles…

Elli hugged herself tighter and looked away from him. She stared at her suitcase.

He must have noted the direction of her gaze. “You wish to do your packing now?”

A shiver slid beneath the surface of her skin. It was all so eerie. He was her jailer. And yet, at the same time, he behaved like a loyal servant, ready to do her bidding before she even told him what her bidding was.

“No, I’ll do it later. I have until Thursday, remember?” It was something of a dig. Even if he had almost kidnapped her, he seemed, at heart, a noble, straight-ahead kind of guy. He probably didn’t like sleeping at the foot of her bed any more than she liked having him there. No doubt he hoped she’d make their time in forced proximity as short as possible, that she’d be ready to head for Gullandria as soon as she’d had that talk with her mother—tomorrow night, or Wednesday morning at the latest.

Well, okay. Maybe she would be ready to leave before Thursday. And maybe it would please him to know that. But pleasing the Viking in her bedroom was the last thing on her mind right then.

Stone-faced as usual, he lifted the suitcase off the bed and carried it over to set it against the wall. She smelled toothpaste as he went past. Sometime during her too-short, not-at-all-relaxing bath, he must have brushed his teeth.

What a truly odd image: the Viking in her guest bath, with a toothbrush in his mouth, scrubbing away. Somehow, when she thought of Vikings, she never imagined them brushing their teeth. Did he floss, as well? She supposed he must. Everything about him shouted physical fitness. He had to be proactive when it came to his health. Proper dental hygiene would be part of the package.

He marched by her again and returned to stand at attention near his pallet of blankets. “Do you wish to sleep now?”

As if. “In a minute. First, I need to lock up.”

Before she could turn for the door, he said, “I’ve already done that.”

“Surprise, surprise.” She went to the bed and slid under the covers. Doodles and Diablo, with that radar cats seem to have for the moment when their human has settled into a soft, inviting place, appeared in the doorway to the hall. “Well, come on,” she told them, and reached for the remote, which waited on her nightstand.

The cats settled in. She turned on the TV in the corner—okay, Feng Shui, it wasn’t. But Elli didn’t care. She loved to watch TV in bed with her cats cuddled close around her.

And a favorite program was in progress. Law and Order: Criminal Intent. Vincent D’Onofrio had the perp in the interrogation room and was psyching him out with skill and subtlety.

And the Viking was still standing there—awaiting orders, she supposed.

“Hauk. Go to bed.”

He nodded and dropped to his blankets. A minute later, he was stretched out beneath the top blanket, his boots and belt a foot or two away. She wondered briefly where he kept that black switchblade knife when he slept—but then she told herself that where Hauk FitzWyborn kept his knife was no concern of hers. She watched the rest of her program, and after that turned to an old movie on TCM.

At the foot of the bed, Hauk lay utterly still. She could swear he hadn’t moved since he crawled beneath the blanket over an hour ago.