Read Online The Princess Predicament by LISA CHILDS - Free Book Online
Authors: LISA CHILDS
Ads: Link
followed Whit right to her? And if he’d followed him from the place Charlotte Green had been held captive in Michigan, then he could have followed him to the orphanage.
“This country is a war zone full of rebels and mercenaries,” Gabriella said.
“Then why the hell would your bodyguard send you here?” Maybe his doubts about Charlotte’s motives had been right. Maybe she hadn’t been trying to protect Princess Gabriella when she’d had plastic surgery to look just like her; maybe she had been trying to take her place as the legitimate heir to the country of St. Pierre and the fortune of the king.
But Charlotte had seemed to genuinely care about her assignment. About her sister. Then he realized the answer to his own question. “She couldn’t tell you. The king had sworn her to secrecy with the threat of firing her if she told you the truth.”
Gabriella gasped and then blinked furiously as tears pooled in her eyes. “My father wouldn’t allow her to tell me?”
He had begun to appreciate Charlotte Green when she’d saved his life four or five days ago. But he really appreciated her now, for finding a way around the king’s royal decree. “So she showed you. She had to know that once you met her aunt you would figure it out.”
Charlotte had found a way around the king, but with the way she’d handled the situation, Gabriella had been alone when she’d learned the truth. Even though Lydia was related to her, she was a stranger. There had been no one there for Gabby who could have held her, who could have comforted her.
His arms ached, not from the gunshot wound, but with the need to hold her, to have been the one who comforted her when her world had turned on its axis. And when everything that she had believed to be true had become a lie.
She expelled a shaky breath. “I figured out that my father, that my family, ” her voice cracked as emotion overwhelmed her, “has made a fool of me my entire life.”
He reached for her again, and this time she didn’t fight him off. Instead she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and clung to him. And his arms, which had ached to hold her, embraced her.
He ignored the twinge of pain in his shoulder. He ignored everything but how warm and soft she was and how perfect she felt.
Then, even as close as they were, there was a movement between them. The baby shifted in her stomach, kicking him as he or she kicked Gabby. While it was only a gentle movement, Whit felt the kick more violently than he had the princess’s when she’d tried to fight him off at the Jeep.
This baby inside her could possibly be his. He could be a father?
* * *
G ABBY FELT HIM tense, so she pulled back—embarrassed that she had clung to him. More embarrassed that she’d wanted to keep clinging to him. She had missed him, missed his touch—his strength. That night he’d guarded her he had made her feel safer than she’d ever felt. He’d made her feel more than she had ever felt.
Even now, her tumultuous emotions were all mixed up about him. She had to remind herself that, like that night, he was just doing his job. She meant nothing more to him than a paycheck from her father. She’d realized that when she’d woken alone the next morning and even more so when she’d left for Paris and he hadn’t tried to stop her.
She’d felt like such a fool for throwing herself at a man who really hadn’t wanted her. And then she had come here...and discovered exactly how big a fool she’d been.
“I could never figure out why my mother—the queen—hated me so much,” she admitted.
The woman had never shown Gabby an ounce of affection or approval. On her deathbed, she had even refused to see Gabriella—not wanting hers to be the last face she ever saw. She had never been able to tolerate even looking at Gabby. That was why she’d sent her off to boarding schools when she’d been scarcely more than a toddler.
“But she wasn’t really my mother,” Gabriella said. She had
“This country is a war zone full of rebels and mercenaries,” Gabriella said.
“Then why the hell would your bodyguard send you here?” Maybe his doubts about Charlotte’s motives had been right. Maybe she hadn’t been trying to protect Princess Gabriella when she’d had plastic surgery to look just like her; maybe she had been trying to take her place as the legitimate heir to the country of St. Pierre and the fortune of the king.
But Charlotte had seemed to genuinely care about her assignment. About her sister. Then he realized the answer to his own question. “She couldn’t tell you. The king had sworn her to secrecy with the threat of firing her if she told you the truth.”
Gabriella gasped and then blinked furiously as tears pooled in her eyes. “My father wouldn’t allow her to tell me?”
He had begun to appreciate Charlotte Green when she’d saved his life four or five days ago. But he really appreciated her now, for finding a way around the king’s royal decree. “So she showed you. She had to know that once you met her aunt you would figure it out.”
Charlotte had found a way around the king, but with the way she’d handled the situation, Gabriella had been alone when she’d learned the truth. Even though Lydia was related to her, she was a stranger. There had been no one there for Gabby who could have held her, who could have comforted her.
His arms ached, not from the gunshot wound, but with the need to hold her, to have been the one who comforted her when her world had turned on its axis. And when everything that she had believed to be true had become a lie.
She expelled a shaky breath. “I figured out that my father, that my family, ” her voice cracked as emotion overwhelmed her, “has made a fool of me my entire life.”
He reached for her again, and this time she didn’t fight him off. Instead she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and clung to him. And his arms, which had ached to hold her, embraced her.
He ignored the twinge of pain in his shoulder. He ignored everything but how warm and soft she was and how perfect she felt.
Then, even as close as they were, there was a movement between them. The baby shifted in her stomach, kicking him as he or she kicked Gabby. While it was only a gentle movement, Whit felt the kick more violently than he had the princess’s when she’d tried to fight him off at the Jeep.
This baby inside her could possibly be his. He could be a father?
* * *
G ABBY FELT HIM tense, so she pulled back—embarrassed that she had clung to him. More embarrassed that she’d wanted to keep clinging to him. She had missed him, missed his touch—his strength. That night he’d guarded her he had made her feel safer than she’d ever felt. He’d made her feel more than she had ever felt.
Even now, her tumultuous emotions were all mixed up about him. She had to remind herself that, like that night, he was just doing his job. She meant nothing more to him than a paycheck from her father. She’d realized that when she’d woken alone the next morning and even more so when she’d left for Paris and he hadn’t tried to stop her.
She’d felt like such a fool for throwing herself at a man who really hadn’t wanted her. And then she had come here...and discovered exactly how big a fool she’d been.
“I could never figure out why my mother—the queen—hated me so much,” she admitted.
The woman had never shown Gabby an ounce of affection or approval. On her deathbed, she had even refused to see Gabriella—not wanting hers to be the last face she ever saw. She had never been able to tolerate even looking at Gabby. That was why she’d sent her off to boarding schools when she’d been scarcely more than a toddler.
“But she wasn’t really my mother,” Gabriella said. She had
Similar Books
