The Prince's Stolen Virgin

Well, that wasn’t true. The end was coming.

Talia was a means to it.

“To the airport,” he said to his driver as the van was secured.

“The airport?” She was sounding quite shrill now.

“Well, we aren’t swimming to Santa Milagro. Not in your condition, anyway.”

“I am not going with you.”

“You are. Though I appreciate your spirit. It’s admirable. Particularly given that you’re currently in a hospital bed. I will have you undergo a preliminary examination before we get on the plane.”

The physician he’d hired moved from his seat over to where Talia was. He proceeded to examine her, taking her blood pressure, looking at her eyes. “You may want to order a CT scan once you get back to your country,” the older man said. If he was feeling any compunction about being involved in this kidnapping, he was hiding it well.

But, considering the amount of money that Felipe was throwing at him, he should hide it well.

“Thank you. I will make sure she has follow-up appointments. I do not want her broken, after all.”

She did not look relieved by that news, though in his opinion she should.

“If you have any integrity at all,” she said, reaching out and grabbing the doctor by the arm, “then you’ll tell somebody where I am. Who I’m with.”

The older man looked away from her, clearly uncomfortable, and withdrew his arm.

“Talia,” Felipe said, “he has been paid too well to offer you any help.”

“You keep calling me Talia. And I’m not Talia. I don’t know who Talia is.”

Well, that was certainly an interesting development. “Whether or not you know who Talia is—and that I question—you are her.”

“I think maybe you’re the one who hit your head,” she said.

“Again, sadly for you, I did not. While I may not be of sound mind, I certainly know my own mind. This... Well, this has been planned for a very long time. You think it accidental that I encountered you on a busy street in New York City? Of course not. The most random of encounters are always carefully orchestrated.”

“By some sort of higher power?” she asked, her tone wry.

“Yes. Me.”

“I have no idea who you are. I have never heard of you, I have never heard of your country, so I can only imagine that it is the size of a grain of rice on a world map. While we’re talking size, I can only assume that plays a factor in a great many things, since you seem to be compensating.”

He chuckled. “If I were not so secure I might be offended by that, querida. Anyway, while I am a believer in the idea that size matters in some arenas, when it comes to world events, often the size of the country is not the biggest issue. It is the motion of the... Well, of the cash flow. The natural resources. And that, my country has in abundance. However, we are going through a few structural changes. You are part of those changes.”

“How can I be part of those changes? I’m a doctor’s daughter. I’m a university student. I don’t have a place on the world stage.”

“And that is where you’re wrong. But we’re not going to finish having this discussion here.”

He had paid the good doctor for his silence, that much was true, but he did not trust anything when a larger payday had the potential to come into play. And when news of Briar Harcourt going missing hit the media, there was a chance that the man would go forward with his story.

That meant that the details revealed in the van needed to be limited. Soon, however, they arrived at the airport, and the vehicle pulled up directly to Felipe’s private plane.

“Don’t we have to go through customs? I don’t have... Well, I don’t have a passport.”

“Darling. You’re traveling with me now. I am your passport. Does she need the IV any longer?” He posed that question to the doctor.

“She shouldn’t,” came the grave reply.

“Then remove it,” Felipe commanded.

The doctor did so, carefully and judiciously, putting a Band-Aid over where the needle had been.

“She is not hooked up to anything else?”

“No,” the doctor replied.

“Excellent.” Felipe reached down, wrapping his arms around Talia and hoisting her up out of the bed. “Good help is all very well and good, but in the end it’s always better to do things yourself.”

She clung to him for a moment, clearly afraid of falling out of his arms and getting another head injury, and continued to hold on to him while he got out of the van and began to stride across the tarmac toward the plane.

And then she began to struggle.

“Please do not make this difficult,” he said, tightening his hold on her, not finding this difficult at all, though he would rather not end up with a bruise if it could be helped. If he was going to be marred, he preferred for it to happen in the bedroom. At least then, there would be a reward for his suffering.

Hell, sometimes the suffering was just part of the reward.

“The point is to make this difficult!”

“I have never had a woman resist getting on my private plane quite so much.”

“But you’ve had them resist. That says nothing good about you.”

He sighed heavily, taking them both up the steps and into the aircraft. His flight crew immediately mobilized, closing the door and beginning the process of readying for takeoff. As they had been instructed prior to his and the princess’s boarding.

“You say that as though it should bother me,” he said, setting her down in one of the plush leather chairs on the plane before sitting down in the chair across from her. “Don’t bother to try and get up and unlock the door. It can only be unlocked from the cockpit now. I made arrangements for some high-security additions to be added to the plane before coming to get you.”

“That seems stupid,” she said. “What if we need to get out and the pilots can’t let us out?”

He chuckled, reluctantly enjoying the fact that she seemed so comfortable running her mouth even though she had absolutely no power in the situation. “Well, I can actually control it from my phone, as well. But don’t get any ideas about trying to do it yourself. It requires fingerprint and retina recognition.”

“Fine. But if the plane catches fire and we need to get out and somehow your fingerprints have melted off and you can’t open your eyes and we die a painful death because of your security measures...”

“Well,” he said. “In such a case I will feel terribly guilty. And, I imagine continue the burning in hell.”

“That’s a given.”

“Are you concerned for the state of my eternal soul?”

“Not at all. I’m concerned for the state of my present body.” She looked around, and he could tell the exact moment she realized she had nothing. That she was wearing a hospital gown, that she had no identification, no money and no phone.

“I do not intend to harm you,” he said, reaching down and straightening his cuffs. “In fact, that runs counter to my objective.”

“Your objective is to...improve my health?”

“Does it need improving? Because if it does, I most certainly will.”

“No,” she laid her head back, grimacing suddenly. “Okay. Well, right now it needs slight improvement because I feel like I was hit by a taxi.” She sat upright, slamming her hands down on either side of her, her palms striking the leather hard, the sound echoing in the cabin. “Oh, yes! Because I was hit by a taxi!”

“Regrettable. While I orchestrated a great many things, that was not one of them. I would never take such a risk with you.”

“Maybe now is a good time for you to explain yourself. Since we’ve established I’m not going anywhere. And I assume that Santa Milagro is not a quick and easy flight. I suppose we have the time.”

“In a moment.” The engines fired up on the plane, and they began to move slowly. “I like a little atmosphere. And I don’t want to be interrupted by takeoff.”

The aircraft began to move faster and he reached across to the table beside him, opening the top and pressing a button. An interior motor raised a shelf inside, delivering a bottle of scotch, along with a tumbler.

As the plane began to ascend he opened the bottle and poured himself a generous measure of the amber liquid. He did not spill a drop. That would be a mistake. And he did not make mistakes.

Unless he made them on purpose.

“And now?” she pressed.

“Do you want to change first?” He took a sip of his drink. “Not that the hospital gown isn’t lovely.”

Her face contorted with rage. “I don’t care what I’m wearing. And I really don’t care what you think of it.”

“That will change. I guarantee it.”

“You don’t know very much about women, do you?”

He set his glass down on the table. “I know a great deal about women. Arguably more than you do.”

“You don’t know anything about this woman. I don’t know what kind of simpering idiots you normally capture and drag onto your plane, but I’m not impressed by your wells, by your title, by your power. My father did not raise a simpering, weak-willed idiot. And my mother did not raise a fool.”

“No, indeed. However, they were raising a princess.”

“I’m not a princess.”

“You are. The Princess of Verloren. Long-lost. Naturally.”

“That is... That is ridiculous.”

“It is the subject of a great many stories, a great many films... Wouldn’t you think that something like that, a story so often told, might have its roots in reality?”

“Except this isn’t The Princess Diaries and you are not Julie Andrews.”

He chuckled. “No, indeed.” He took another sip of his scotch. Funny, alcohol didn’t even burn anymore. Sometimes he missed it. Sometimes he simply assumed it was a metaphor for his conscience and found amusement in it. “A cursory internet search would corroborate what I’m telling you. King Behrendt and Queen Amaani lost their only daughter years ago. Presumed dead. The entire nation mourned her passing. However, in Santa Milagro it was often suspected the princess had been sent into hiding.”

“Why would I be sent into hiding?”

“Because of an agreement. An agreement that your father made with mine. You see, sometime after the death of his first wife, the king fell on hard times. His own personal mourning affected the country and led the nation to near financial ruin. And so he borrowed heavily from my father. He also promised that he would repay my father in any manner he deemed acceptable. He more than promised. It is in writing.” Felipe lifted a shoulder then continued, “Of course, at the time King Behrendt felt like he had nothing to lose. His wife was dead. His heir and spare nearly grown. Then he met a model. Very famous. Originally from Somalia. Their romance stunned all of Europe for a great many reasons, the age gap between them being one of them.”

“I know this story,” she said, her voice hushed. “I mean, I have heard of them.”

“Naturally. As they are one of the most photographed royal couples in the world. What began as a rather shocking coupling has become one of the world’s favorites.”

“You’re trying to tell me that they are my parents.”

“I’m not trying to tell you that. I am telling you that. Because when it came time to collect on the king’s debt... My father demanded you.”

“He did?”

“Oh, yes. Verloren, and indeed the world, was captivated by your birth. And when you finally arrived, a great party was given. Many gifts were brought from rulers all over the world. And my father—not in attendance because he was any great friend of yours, but because your father was obligated—came, but it was not with a gift. It was a promise. That when you were of age he would come for you. And that you would be his wife.”

Her skin dulled, her lips turning a dusky blue. “Are you... Are you taking me to your father? Is that what this is?”

He shook his head. “No. I am not delivering you to my father. For that, you should be thankful. You will not be his wife.”

“No,” she said firmly. “I will not be.”

He looked up at her then, his eyes meeting hers. She looked fiery, determined. Anger glittered in those ebony depths, and perversely he ached to explore that rage. Sadly, it would have to wait.

“You will not be my father’s wife,” he repeated, pausing for just a moment. “You will be mine.”

CHAPTER THREE

SHE LOST CONSCIOUSNESS after that. And really, she was somewhat grateful for that. Less so when she woke up feeling disoriented, cocooned in a bed of soft blankets in completely unfamiliar surroundings.

At least when she woke up this time it wasn’t because he had kissed her.

Though, he was standing on the far side of the room, his arms crossed over his broad chest, his expression one of dark concern. Perhaps that was an odd characteristic to assign to concern, but she had a feeling the concern wasn’t born out of any kind of goodness of his heart, rather over the potential thwarting of his schemes.

His schemes to make her his wife. She remembered that with a sudden jolt.

She sat up quickly, and her head began to throb.

“Be careful, Princess,” came a slow, calming voice. “You do not have a concussion, but you have certainly been through quite a lot in the past twenty-four hours.”

She became aware that a woman was standing to the left of her bed. A woman who had that kind of matter-of-fact bedside demeanor she typically assigned to physicians.

“Are you a doctor?” she asked.

“Yes. When you lost consciousness on the flight, Prince Felipe called and demanded that I make myself available to him as soon as the plane landed. I told him it was likely stress and a bit of dehydration that caused the event.” She sent him a look that carried not a small amount of steel.

“I have indeed been placed under stress,” Briar said. “Since he kidnapped me.”

The woman looked like she was about to have an apoplexy. “Kidnapped. Lovely.”

“Did you have a criticism, Dr. Estrada?” Felipe asked, his tone soft but infinitely deadly.

“Never, Your Majesty.”

“I thought not.”

“Perhaps you ought to criticize him,” Briar said.

“Not if she would like to retain her license to practice medicine here in Santa Milagro. Also, not as long as she would like to stay out of the dungeon.”

“He would not throw me in the dungeon,” Dr. Estrada said, her tone hard. “However, I do believe he might strip me of my license.”

“Do not think me so different from my father,” he said, his tone taking on a warning quality. “I will have to assume control of the country soon, and I will do whatever I must to make sure that transition goes as smoothly as possible. I would like to give you all that I have promised,” he said, directing those words to the doctor, “but I cannot if you don’t help me in this. I am not evil like my father, but I am entirely focused on my goals. I will let nothing stand in my way.” He rolled his shoulders backward, grabbed the edge of his shirtsleeve and pulled it down hard. “I am hardly a villain, but I am...morally flexible. You would both do well to remember that.”

“You can’t exactly issue threats to me,” Briar said, “as I’ve already been kidnapped.”

“Things can definitely get worse,” Felipe said, a sharp grin crossing his lips. “I’m quite creative.”

A shiver ran down her back and she thought wildly about what she could do. There was no hope of running, obviously. She wasn’t feeling her best, even if she didn’t have a concussion. She was also stranded in a foreign country with no ID, no money, nothing but a hospital gown.

“Help me,” she said to Dr. Estrada, because she had no idea what else she could do.

“I’m afraid I can’t,” the woman said. “Except when it comes to your medical well-being. You can take a couple of these pain pills if you need them.” She set the bottle on the nightstand.

“I might take the whole thing,” Briar responded.

“I will not tolerate petulant displays of insincere overdoses.” Felipe walked across the room, curling his fingers around the pill bottle and picking it up. “If you need something I am more than happy to dispense it. Or rather, I will entrust a servant to do so.”

He was appalling. It was difficult to form an honest opinion on his personality, given that he had kidnapped her and all. That was the dominant thing she was focused on at the moment. But even without the kidnap, he was kind of terrible.

“That will be all, Dr. Estrada,” he said, effectively dismissing what might have been Briar’s only possible ally. “She would not have helped you,” Felipe said, as if reading her mind. “She can’t. You see, my father has had this country under a pall for generations. People like Dr. Estrada want to make a difference once the old king is dead—and he is closer and closer to being dead with each passing moment we spend talking. I would prefer that he live for our marriage announcement, however. Still, if he does not, I won’t lose any sleep over it. The sooner he dies, the better. The sooner he dies, the sooner I assume the throne. And change can begin coming to the country.”

“There’s nothing you can do until some old, incapacitated king dies?”

He waved a hand. “Of course there is. If there was nothing that could be done, Dr. Estrada wouldn’t have been here at all. In fact, she’s somebody that I’ve been meeting with for the past couple of years, getting a healthcare system in place, ready to launch the moment I assume power. I have pieces in a great many strategic places on this chessboard, Princess. And you were the last one. My queen.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Of course you don’t. But you will. Ultimately, this will benefit your country. Your parents.”

“My parents live in New York,” she said, gritting her teeth. “I don’t care about anybody else.”

He made a tsking sound. “That’s quite heartless. Especially considering the king and queen assumed great personal cost to send you to safety.”

“I might feel something more if I knew them,” she said, ignoring the slight twinge of guilt in her chest. “As it is, I’m concerned that the mother and father I know are going to be frantic, looking for me.”

“Likely they will be. But soon, very soon, I will be ready to announce to the world that we are engaged.”

“And what’s to keep me from flinging myself in front of the camera and letting everybody know that I’m not your fiancée, I’m a kidnap victim? And you are dangerously delusional.”

“Oh,” he said, “you’ve got me there. Something I didn’t think of. I’ve only been planning exactly how my ascendance to the throne would go for the past two decades. But here, you have completely stumped me with only a few moments of thinking.” He laughed, the sound derisive. “Your country, your father’s country, owes mine an astronomical amount. I could destroy them. Bankrupt them. The entire populace would spend the remainder of their days in abject poverty. A once great nation toppled completely. I, and I alone, have been the only thing standing in the gap between my father and his revenge on Verloren. My own had to go neglected so that I could protect yours. I spent every favor on that. Used every ounce of diplomacy to convince him that it was not the time to move on Verloren. I placated him with ideas that I had gotten leads on your whereabouts.” He shook his head. “I did a great deal to clinch this. If you think you’re going to thwart me with a temper tantrum then you are truly delusional.”

“Well, I was hit by a taxi.”

He laughed again. “True. I should have given the driver a tip. He made this all that much easier. Anyway, you will be well taken care of here.”

“I just have to marry a monster.”

“There is that,” he said, looking completely unfazed by the insult. “What sort of monster do you suppose I am, Princess?”

She couldn’t tell if he was asking the question with sincerity. She wasn’t sure she cared. But as she looked at him, a picture began to form in her mind. His eyes were gold, glinting with heat and the possibility of a kind of cruelty she didn’t want to test. There was something sharp about him, whip-smart and deadly.

“A dragon. Clearly,” she said, not entirely sure why she had provided him with the answer.

“I suppose that makes you the damsel in distress,” he said.

“I’d like to think it makes me the knight.”

“Sorry, darling,” he said. “I kissed you awake not eight hours ago. That makes you the damsel.”

“If we’re going off fairy tales then that should make you Prince Charming, not the dragon.”

He chuckled. “Sadly, this is real life, not a fairy tale. And very often the prince can be both.”

“Then I suppose a princess can also be a knight. In which case, I would be careful, because when you go to kiss me again I might stab you clean through.”

He lifted one dark brow. “Then the same goes for you. Because the next time I go to kiss you, I might decide to swallow you whole instead.”

There was something darkly sexual about those words, and she resented the responses created in her body. No matter that he was... Well, insane almost by his own admission, he was still absurdly beautiful.

And that, she supposed, was ultimately what he meant about the dragon and the prince being one and the same. On the outside, he was every inch Prince Charming. From his perfectly tailored jacket and dark pants, to his classically handsome face and picture of exquisite masculinity that was his body.

But underneath, he breathed fire.

“I am announcing our engagement tomorrow. And you will not go against me.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I’m going to allow you to call your parents tonight. At least, the people you know as your parents.”

“They’ll send someone for me. They’ll contact that... They’ll contact the president if they have to.”

“They won’t,” he said, his voice holding an air of finality. “And you know why? Because they do know the whole story of how you came to be theirs. They know exactly who you are, and they know why they cannot interfere in this. They were charged with keeping you safe from me, and they failed. Now, there is nothing that can be done. Once you have passed into the possession of the dragon... Well. It is too late. Tell them everything that I told you. And they will confirm what I’ve said. You don’t have a choice. Not if you want to keep your homeland from crumbling. Not if you ever hope to see things actually fixed. This is bigger than you. When you speak to them, you’ll know that’s the truth.”

Then he turned, leaving her alone with nothing but a sense of quiet dread.

* * *

“I will be having an engagement party in the next week or so,” Felipe said, staring fixedly out the window at the view of the mountains.

“That seems sudden,” his friend Adam said on the other end of the phone.

Adam was recently married to his wife, Belle, after years of isolating himself on his island country, lost in grief after the death of his first wife, and hiding the terrible scars he had received from the accident that had made him a widower. But now things had changed. Since he had met Belle, he had come back into the public eye, and he seemed to have no issue with public appearances. All the better as far as Felipe was concerned, because he wanted to have as much public support as possible.

“It isn’t,” Felipe said. “Believe me.”

“Why do I get the feeling this is the sort of thing I don’t want to know the details about?” his other friend Rafe said, his tone hard.

“You likely don’t,” Felipe said. “But I would happily give them to you. You know I have no shame.”

He didn’t. Though he was hardly going to engage in unbridled honesty and a heart-to-heart with his friends about the current situation. That wasn’t how he worked. It wasn’t the function he fulfilled in the group.

He’d cultivated the Prince Charming exterior long ago. Out of necessity. For survival. Image had been everything to his father, and the older man had always threatened Felipe and his mother with dire consequences if Felipe were to reveal the state of their lives in the palace.

The consequences of behaving otherwise were dire, and he had discovered that the hard way.