Darlings of Paranormal Romance (Anthology) (22 page)

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Authors: Chrissy Peebles

Tags: #romance, #love, #fantasy, #paranormal

BOOK: Darlings of Paranormal Romance (Anthology)
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Knowing there was no other way, Sarah
turned and ran down the corridor.


What’re you doing?!” Frank
yelled, chasing after her.

She grabbed the door and slammed it
shut, then walked to the back of the cell. Staying in that freaky
dimension wasn’t an option. She had to take a chance on marrying
the nutcase if it meant she could get her hands on that key. “Lock
me in! Hurry!”


What?”

She met his gaze through the rusty
bars. “You heard me. Lock it and leave. Tell the other knights to
inform the king that I’ve changed my mind and I’d love to marry
him.”


Sarah, are you sure? You
really need to think about this. I mean, you’re risking everything,
and what if we—”


I have thought about it,
Frank, and this is the best way.” She smiled. “Now go…and don’t
worry.”


I’ll get you out of this,
I swear. Just get that ring.”


Not a problem.” As he
turned to leave, she added, “I’ll be sure to say hello to hubby for
you.”

Chapter 5

 

Sarah smoothed out her white and gold
Juliet-style dress. The corseted bodice clung to her chest like a
second skin, raising and flattening all the right places, but she
hadn’t seen that style in any magazine in the last twenty years.
She felt for the tags at the back, but the scratchy piece of
material wasn’t there. It certainly wasn’t a designer label, but
with all the sequins, lace, and fine details, it would have made a
killing on any runway.

The maidservants had wasted no time
preparing her for her dreaded nuptials. They scrubbed her skin with
lye soap in a tub of scalding water. Countless hands had forced her
into a wedding dress so tight she didn’t know whether she was dead
as a ghost or just floating from the lack of oxygen, and the shiny
tiara that weighed a ton didn’t ease her throbbing headache either.
A long veil trailed the ground, promising to send her into a
tumbling fall if she didn’t move gracefully.

Curls
trimmed her forehead and fell in ringlets down the sides of her
face. Thicker curls hung loosely at the back of her head and neck.
She played with one gingerly, marveling at how easy it wound around
her finger.
So this is what hair felt like
before straightening irons and all that hairspray.
She couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen
anyone with ringlet curls, but she was beginning to think the trend
should be brought back to life.

A guard walked Sarah through the dimly
lit corridor, then stopped, his eyes focused somewhere above her
chest.

Frowning, she followed his line of
vision and let out a groan. The pervert’s stare at her cleavage
couldn’t have been more obvious if he’d have tattooed the words on
his forehead. She rolled her eyes. “Why don’t you take a picture?
It’ll last longer.” She was certain that King Victor had definitely
picked out the winner of a dress.

The guard cocked an eyebrow. “Excuse
me, Highness?”


Paint a
portrait?”


I’m afraid I don’t
understand.”


Never mind,” Sarah hissed.
Of course they wouldn’t know what a camera was in a place where
they still knew what a chastity belt was and thought asking for a
woman’s hand in marriage meant knocking her over the head and
dragging her to one’s cage.

The guard opened the door, letting her
into a large room. More guardsmen stood in every corner. She
brushed against the wooden frame to avoid touching him. Her eyes
fell on the iron chandeliers holding a multitude of taupe-colored
candles. Beautiful red and purple tapestries and elaborate
arrangements of gleaming swords, maces, arm poles, and shields
covered the stone-sculptured walls. She took a deep breath as
realization hit: She was there, in that real medieval castle, to
marry a real king.


Wait here.” The guard
motioned her to stand by the floor-to-ceiling fireplace.

Minutes
later, Victor walked in. He took her hand and kissed it gently. Her
stomach fluttered as she peered from his gleaming white teeth and
black, shaggy hair into his blue eyes. As much as she hated to
admit it, he could’ve stepped out of a fairytale; he was dressed
like Prince Charming himself, complete with crown, cape, short
breeches tucked into high boots, and tights. The black and white
doublet, with a golden lion emblazoned on the velvet, outlined
every muscle in his chest. He was a handsome sight, even if he had
the personality of a wolverine; she had never gone for the
controlling type who enjoyed threatening to murder her for his own
political gains. Against her better judgment, her knees went
weak.
Quit drooling!
she scolded herself. She was in a very dangerous situation
with a man who could kill her at any moment if he found out who she
really was—or wasn’t. Sooner or later, he’d discover that she
wasn’t Gloria, and there wasn’t a royal bone in her
body.

Slowly, his gaze traveled over her.
“Princess Gloria, you look dashing…much more like a princess now,
soon to be a queen, my dear.”

Sarah knew that she had to play along
if she wanted to get out of there. She returned his smile and
curtsied, hoping it looked close enough to the real deal. “Thank
you, milord.”

A grin grew across his lips. “You
respond to your name now?”

An
incredibly sexy dimple in his left cheek drew her attention. She
moistened her lips; her breath caught in her throat.
“I-I must’ve hit my head earlier and was
confused, forgetting my identity. It’s all coming back to me, but
certain parts still remain unclear,” she fibbed, hoping that would
cover her if someone asked her a question she couldn’t properly
answer. She had to play the part of Princess Gloria perfectly or
Plan B was gonna be a no-go.

He
pointed around the room. “Welcome to my home…
your
home now.


Since you’re mentioning
it, the first thing I would like to do is hire an interior
designer.”


I’ve no idea what that
is.” He inched closer and touched the side of her face with a
caress so tender it sent shivers down her spine. “However, if it’s
within my might to buy it for you, then so be it.”

Sarah took a step back, her fingers
barely connecting with the material of his shirt as she placed a
hand between them. Her throat felt constricted; her heart hammered
in her chest. If he wouldn’t have followed her command, she
wouldn’t have had the willpower to push him away.


You make a beautiful
bride,” he said. “I’m glad you finally came to your
senses.”


Well, Victor, sitting in a
cold dungeon will do that to a girl—that and threats of execution
will nudge a gal in the right direction.”


You’re taking all of this
rather calmly. Your reputation preceded you, and I expected more of
a fight.”


My father doesn’t care if
I live or die, so I hope he chokes on my new title.” She smiled
inwardly. Getting into character wasn’t as hard as she
thought.


That’s the spirit! You
would never have been queen in your own kingdom. I have a feeling
your mother is going to hold on to that title for a long
time.”


Exactly, and that’s why
I’ve decided to take this wonderful opportunity, though I must
admit I would have preferred a bit more romance and a proper
courting.” She blinked her lashes, amused. “May I give you some
dating…er, courting advice, my King?”


You may.” A note of
amusement rang in his tone.


It works best to woo a
girl and sweep her off her feet rather than throw her in a dungeon.
When you propose, try kneeling and stating your undying love. That
works better than threatening your future bride with impending
death or impregnating her with ten kids.”

Victor laughed, the delicious dimples
forming on his cheeks again. “You’re here to marry me, are you
not?”

She bit her lip. “Guess you got me
there,” she said, knowing she didn’t have much of a
choice.

He inched closer, a shadow passing
over his features as he peered into her eyes. “You know the
consequences of the ring, yet you are still willing to move forward
with the marriage?”

Yeah, she knew the consequences. She’d
wear a ball and chain for a few hours before she cut it off with a
hacksaw and ran as far away from the guy as she could—no matter how
gorgeous he was. “I’m aware.”


I knew you were, but I had
to make sure. I wouldn’t want you to blame me for…” He winced
slightly. “Keeping it from you.”

Whoa! Is
there more to this thing than he’s letting on, more to it than what
that Jules told Frank?
She thought maybe
she could play up the amnesia angle, leftover from the bump on the
head. She narrowed her eyes to tiny slits, considering her words.
“Uh, just to be on the safe side, would you be so kind and refresh
my memory? Things are a little fuzzy from the
fall.”

He nodded. “Of course, my love. It’s
said that—”

A knock on the door interrupted
him.

Victor held up a hand. “Ah, the
priest. I want this done quickly.”

Sarah grabbed hold of his arm. “Wait!
What about your bad conscience? You wouldn’t want me to blame you
later, would you?”

He laughed, motioning in a short man
with white, thinning hair. He was dressed in a wide-sleeved,
kimono-style, monk’s robe with a knotted rope belt tied at the
waist.

Victor
shut the door, then met Sarah’s gaze. “All royalty knows about the
ring’s secrets. And I’m certain you wouldn’t forget
something
so
important. Let’s get started.”


You don’t waste time,” she
said. “Nothing says love better than a shotgun wedding.”

The priest bowed. “It’s nice to meet
you, Princess.”

She
nodded.
Frank had better be right about
this ring being the key we need to get outta here. I hope his
sources really are reliable, because if I go through with this all
for nothing, I’m gonna kick his butt into the next
century!


Is anyone else attending
the ceremony?” the priest asked.


No, Father,” Victor
said.

Sarah chuckled and motioned around
her. “I think the only guests we have are the guards.”


I need you to stand to my
left, and King Victor, please stand to the right,” the priest
continued.

Sarah
moved into position, butterflies dancing in her stomach.
Can I really go through with this?
Staring at all the polished swords and shields
hanging on the wall, she gulped. She’d always planned to get
married in a church filled with smiling friends and family, not
alone on some King Arthur movie set.
And
what’s Victor hiding from me about the ring?
Obviously, there was something she needed to know, because it
was something all the other royals were aware of. The problem was,
she wasn’t royalty.


You’re so beautiful,”
Victor whispered, cupping her face. “You take my breath
away.”

Her heart
leapt.
The guy throws me in a hole in the
ground and then feeds me a bunch of compliments?
She gazed into his eyes, searching for sincerity.
For a minute, she thought he actually meant it. “I’m flattered.”
Then it dawned on her:
There’s got to be
something in this for him, even if it is just plain old
revenge.


Your father and I don’t
get along, but I bear you no ill feelings. I’m sorry I lost my
temper in the dungeon. I am fuming angry with your wolf of a
father, and I should not have taken that out on his blood.” Victor
slipped his hands around her waist, his eyes glistening with
something she couldn’t place. “I know you were forced into this,
and I grant you my deepest apologies. I assure you, my love, that I
will spend the rest of my life trying to make you
happy.”

Gazing up
at his face, she was surprised to find that he actually had a soft
side.
So his threats were all a bluff? And
he really wants to spend the rest of his life making me
happy?
Confusion flooded through
her.
What girl doesn’t dream of getting
swept off her feet by a handsome king declaring his undying
devotion? Even if we did start off on the wrong foot when he
imprisoned me.

The priest cleared his throat and
opened his leather-bound book.

The king grinned. “Ah, yes. Let’s get
started, shall we?”

The priest nodded. “King Victor Fesque
II, wilt thou have this woman to be thy wedded wife? Wilt thou love
her, honor her, keep her and guard her, in health and in sickness,
as a husband should a wife, forsaking all others? Wilt thou cling
only unto her, so long as ye both shall live?”

Victor
met
Sarah’s eyes and smiled. “I
will.”


Princess Gloria Jarod,
wilt thou have this man to be thy wedded husband? Wilt thou love
him, honor him, keep him and guard him, in health and in sickness,
as a wife should a husband, forsaking all others? Wilt though
cleave only unto him, so long as ye both shall live?”

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