The Princess (Montgomery/Taggert 10)

“Black market?”

He grabbed her arm. “Let’s get out of here. They could make a couple of more trips tonight. When I get back, the navy will hear of this.”

Aria pulled out of his grasp and walked ahead of him down the beach.

“Only

kings walk with you, is that right? Tell me, does Count Julius walk beside you?”

She stopped, turned, and glared at him in the moonlight. “He is Count Julian, and in public, no, he does not walk beside me.”

She turned and started walking away.

“What about when he’s your husband and king?”

“He’ll not be king unless I decree it, which I will not do. I will be queen and he will be made a prince consort.”

“If he’s not going to be king, then why’s he marrying you?”

Aria clenched her fists inside her skirts. This man had a way of making her forget that she was not to show emotion. “Lanconia,” she answered simply. “And he loves me.”

“After four meetings?”

“Three,” she corrected. “That will be all the questions I will answer. I’m sure there must be some books on Lanconia in your libraries. What are you serving for dinner?”

“We are preparing seviche. Ever cut up onions, Princess? You’re going to love the job.”

Chapter Four

ARIA sniffed her hands and they did indeed smell as bad as she remembered. No amount of washing would rid them of the awful smell of those onions. She turned back to the campsite and saw Lieutenant Montgomery settled in his hammock for the night. There was no bed for her.

“Where am I going to sleep?”

He didn’t bother opening his eyes. “Wherever you want, Princess. Ours is a free country.”

It was beginning to turn cool and she rubbed her arms. “I would like to sleep in the hammock.”

Eyes still closed, he stretched out his arm. “Be my guest, baby. I’m willing.”

Aria gave a sigh. “I suppose it’s too much to hope that you’d leave that and let me have it.”

“Much too much. I came prepared for one camper—one bed, one blanket. You can share what I have, though, and be assured that I won’t do anything except sleep.”

Aria sat on the ground against a tree, feeling the night grow cooler. A breeze came up and chills broke out on her arms. She looked at him, warm and sleepy in the hammock. She leaned back and closed her eyes but her chattering teeth kept her from relaxing. She stood and walked about the camp.

When she looked back at him again, he seemed to be sleeping but he extended his arm out to her. Without thinking what she was doing, she climbed into the hammock beside him. She tried to turn her back to him but the hammock pulled them together and the stiff, cramped position made her back ache.

“Pardon me,” she said, as if she were passing him on the street, and turned so that her head was on his shoulder. She made an attempt to pull his shirt closed but it was caught under him so she had to put her head against his chest. To her surprise, the sensation wasn’t unpleasant at all.

He curled both arms around her and she heard him chuckle softly. It was better not to think seriously about what she was doing. A desperate situation called for desperate measures. Besides, his big warm body felt so very good. She moved her leg by his, then crooked one knee and put it over his leg. She sighed happily and went to sleep.

* * *

“Wake up, it’s morning,” said a cross voice in her ear.

She had no desire to wake up, so she just snuggled closer to the man.

He grabbed her shoulders and pushed her away to stare at her. “I told you to get up. And fix your hair! It’s come down.”