Scars Of Defiance (8 page)

“What do you mean the last Montgomery?”

“I’m the last of my family line. The ousted queen was from
the Montgomery line and was well liked by my people, the Rendierians were loyal
to the Montgomery family. Reginald felt the public would like him better if his
son married a Montgomery.”

“Wait a minute. Are you saying you’re a member of the former
royal family? You’re a princess?”

“Well, technically, yes,” she reluctantly admitted.

This changed everything. Paul looked at her with a
completely new level of respect and awe. There was a princess in his bed.

“Anyway,” she hastily continued, “Dr. Roth confided in me
that he knew a plane would be taking off with a load of crossers as soon as the
lake froze over. I would need to eat and regain my strength if I wanted to be
on it. He would continue to portray my condition to Reginald as ailing and poor
in the hopes of delaying the wedding, although in the end nothing would delay
the wedding, even if I was wheelchair bound. Dr. Roth told me that when the
plane was ready to fly, he’d poison the evening meal and make everyone in the
palace sick. Like a bad case of stomach flu. I’d hopefully be able to sneak out
undetected. It worked. The gate wasn’t even guarded when I walked out.”

“What did he put the poison in?”

“The whole meal:  the meat, the bread, the water, and the
desert.”

“What did he use?”

“No idea. But it worked. I boarded the plane without
incident.”

“So when was the last time you saw Reginald Rawlings?”

“Last night before dinner, he came down to speak with Dr.
Roth about my condition. I tried to lie completely still, as if my strength was
long gone. I needed him to think I wasn’t in any condition to flee.”

“Do you think they’ve realized you’re gone?”

“Yes. Not a day goes by that Reginald isn’t looking in on
me. He’s completely obsessed. It made me wonder about his reign. I think the
threat of a coup is huge, and the marriage was supposed to appease my people.
Now that I’m gone, he’ll have to figure out something else.”

“Or more likely, he’ll do everything he can to hunt you down
and take you back. Do you have any family living in Baylend?”

“No.”

“What about in Rendier?”

“No. My father was killed a few months ago. That’s when I
was taken to the palace.”

“Why was your father killed?”

“Because of me.” Her head fell forward, and she played with
her fingers a moment while regaining her composure. “Because I said no to
Victor’s marriage proposal. My father died soon after that, supposedly of a
heart attack, and I was seized and taken to the palace to be forced to marry
Victor.”

“What about your mother?”

“She died when I was little. I don’t remember her much.”

“Any aunts or uncles?”

She shook her head.

“Grandparents?”

She shook her head again. Paul couldn’t fathom being
absolutely alone in the world. His growing compassion for her increased another
notch.

“Most of the people in Rendier are like me — family-less.
It’s better that way.”

“How so?”

“Less worrying. Less grieving.”

Paul truly felt sorry for her. He had family surrounding him
every day of every year:  a grandmother, aunts, uncles, and a brother along
with his parents.

“I’ll be back in a minute,” he said and left the room. Why
hadn’t he known this about Rendier before now? Clearly, his parents and Sam
knew, and that’s why they were devoted to helping crossers. His grandmother had
been helping crossers from the get go. She knew too. Why had it taken Paul so
long to understand and accept the true evil that existed a mere thirty miles to
the south?

He found his father and relayed all the information Sara had
told him. The part about the doctor poisoning the palace made Zachary’s
eyebrows shoot upward.

“If you hear the doorbell ring, I want you to scramble down
that trap door. You hear? She’s got a lot of heat on her head, Paul, and
they’re looking for her.”

Paul nodded. “What about the cabin? Isn’t this what we have
it for?”

“For emergencies only. This isn’t an emergency yet. Go back
to your room and hope the doorbell doesn’t ring.”

Paul grabbed a couple of fresh-baked cookies on his way to
his room. He went in and handed Sierra a cookie with a smile.

“So what’s the verdict?” she asked. “Are you sending me on
my way?”

“No,” he chuckled, “but if the doorbell rings, we’re
supposed to scurry down the hole.” He motioned to the closet.

She took a small bite of her cookie. “Should we practice?”

“What? Going down the hole?” he asked. She nodded. “I don’t
… well it couldn’t hurt, or maybe it will hurt, you at least. We don’t have to
if you don’t want to.”

“I think we should,” she said with a serious expression.
Hurt ankle or not, she didn’t want to be captured.

He set his cookie down and said, “Alright, um, ding dong.”
He made the doorbell sound. She quickly dropped her cookie and swung her legs
over the edge of the bed. She hopped and limped to the closet, and he grabbed
her arm to try to help.

“I’m okay. Just get the trap door, Paul.”

“Oh, right.” He fumbled with the lever. The door dropped
open, then he turned to her. “Do you want me to help you down? Or should I go
down first?”

“Honestly, it’s a good thing were practicing, because if
this were a real raid, I’d be captured already.” She rolled her eyes, then
turned and hopped away.

“Where are you going?”

“Let’s start over.”

Paul closed the trap door and walked back over to the bed.
“Maybe we should plan this out better. How about if the doorbell rings, I run
to the lever and drop myself down the hole and wait for you. You can sit down
and put your feet in first, and I’ll ease you down to prevent you from hurting
your foot.”

“Yeah, that sounds good. Ding dong!” She sounded off, and
they both jumped into action. Paul flipped the lever and dropped down the hole,
then turned around to help catch Sierra. She made it to the door just as he was
ready to help her down. She sat down and dropped her feet and her body down at
the same time. Her fluid action caught Paul off guard, and he scrambled to
catch her. His hands were grasping any part of her to try to slow her descent,
and his hands slid under her shirt and up her sides to her armpits. Her
tee-shirt was all bunched up across her chest. He flushed immediately, but she
remained calm.

“Close the door, Paul,” she said to him.

She sat down on the dirt floor and pulled her shirt hem back
down to where it belonged. Then she began rubbing her ankle through the splint.

Paul was instantly in front of her. “Did I hurt you?” He was
still trying to get his mind off of her satin-smooth skin.

“I’m alright. Let’s do it again. That was too slow.”

“You came down too fast. I wasn’t ready.” They both got up.
Paul opened the trap door. He climbed out and turned around to help her. She
stood on her good leg, but the bedroom floor was at the level of her shoulders,
and she didn’t have the leverage to boost herself up and out.

“I can’t get up.” She looked sheepishly at Paul. “You’ll
have to help me.”

He reached under her arms and pulled her up out of the hole.
His feet slipped, and he fell on his back, with Sierra landing on top of him
with a thud. At least he kept her from hurting her ankle, and his body made for
a softer landing than the hardwood floor.

She lifted her head off his chest to look him in the face.
The moment hung in the air, the clocks stopped, and the electricity crackled
between them. The situation was hardly professional, but very enjoyable.

“Um, maybe you should boost me out of the hole first, next
time,” she said quietly, still lying on top of him and looking him in the face.

“Yep, I was thinking the same thing. Wanna do it again?” He
smiled that crooked smile out of one side of his mouth.

“Yes.” Why did he have to be so sexy? Did he realize how
attracted she was to him? She didn’t move from her position on top of him. She
didn’t want to.

In one swift movement, Paul placed one hand behind her head
and the other on the small of her back and rolled over. Instantly she was on
the bottom now, without bumping her head, and Paul had his weight resting on
his elbows with his hands still under her and his legs at her side. His face
hovered directly above hers for a moment while he looked deep into her eyes.
Then he jumped up and held out his hands to help her up.

They were both breathing a little heavy as they took their
positions on the bed.

“You forgot to close the trap door,” she pointed out
breathlessly. He went over and closed it. He came back and sat down, but before
he’d completely sat, she made the doorbell sound.

“Ding dong!” They both quickly and smoothly hustled over to
the closet, and Paul slipped down the hole. Sierra sat on the edge and put in
her feet and paused for only a half second till she felt his hands on her
thighs. A sizzling buzz shot through her. She inched forward, and he let his
hands slide up to her waist, then he lowered her to the ground using his body
as a supporting slide.

At least his hands didn’t lift her shirt, but this was much
more exciting, having her slide down the entire length of his body to the dirt
floor. He closed the trap door and sat down beside her, breathing heavily.

“Better?”

“Yes, much better,” she answered, looking over at him. Her
eyes met his, and the earth stopped rotating. His eyes had a way of staring
right into her soul. He would never hurt her, she could sense it.

Paul watched her face in the dim light of the crawlspace. He
watched her smile start with her eyes and progress down to her mouth. He had
the incredible urge to kiss her, but his mother’s voice saying “not
professional” echoed in his mind.

He stood up to put some distance between them and popped
open the trap door again. This time he held her waist and boosted her up till
her top half was up lying on the bedroom floor. Then he meant to grab her legs
and push them up and out, but his eyes were drawn to her perfectly round bottom
positioned directly in front of him. He took a moment to appreciate the
wondrous view and then grabbed her legs just above each knee and pushed her up
the rest of the way. He jumped up and out of the hole to find her sitting on
the floor by the closet with her arms wrapped around her knees pulling them up
against her chest.

“That was definitely better on the way down,” she said, “and
that’s what we need to work on. Getting back out isn’t s-so urgent.” A shiver
shot through her body.

“Are you cold?”

“Mmm hmm.”

Paul reached over to the pile of blankets and grabbed a
thick one. He scooted closer to her and draped it over her shoulders, snuggling
it around her neck. This type of tender gesture was new, and it surprised him
how easily it came to him.

Sierra thanked him and looked down at the floor. Anywhere
but his eyes. All day long she had been studying him, watching every nuance of
his behavior. And all day long she had been cataloging everything about his
appearance and his actions in her mind. Like when he smiled at her, his head
would tilt back slightly and his eyelids would come down a little. When he
laughed, his eyes twinkled, and smile lines extended out at the corners.
Whenever he seemed worried, he pulled his chin a fraction of an inch closer to
his chest, and worry creases between his eyebrows gave away his concern. His
interested look had his eyebrows rising just a bit, exposing his eyelids ever
so minutely. Of course,
his level of excitement
or nervousness could be measured by watching the frequency of his Adam’s apple
bobbing up and down.

She hadn’t seen what fear looked like yet.

One thing was for sure, she found it difficult to breathe
whenever he studied her the same way.

“Well,” he interrupted her thoughts, “have you had enough,
or should we do it again?”

“I think we’ll be fine together.” She started to get up
without losing her blanket off her shoulders and without putting any weight on
her foot. Paul quickly came to her aid and lifted her up to a standing
position, where she now realized he was only a few inches taller than she was
but enough that she had to look upward slightly to see his eyes.

He had a hold of her elbows, balancing her as she stood on
one foot, and their eyes were locked on one another. His mind raced along with
his heart, and he swallowed hard in an attempt to get in control of his urges.
Like the incredible urge to kiss her.

Instead, he turned and helped her over to the bed.

His bobbing Adam’s apple had not gone unnoticed by Sierra.
She sensed his attraction to her. It was in the very air. His physical strength
had been displayed throughout their little practice session, along with his
weaknesses. She seemed to be his weakness.

After she got comfortable on the bed, he sat in the armchair
in the corner, with his elbow on the armrest and his hand massaging his cheek.
“What kind of a man is Reginald’s son?”

“Victor? Terrible.”

“In what way?”

“In all ways. He’s selfish, cruel, and unforgiving. He’ll
make a horrible ruler someday.”

“Is he dangerous? You know, physically abusive?”

“I haven’t ever seen him pushed that far. Mostly he has his
bodyguards do the threatening or fighting for him, so I guess that would make
him quite wimpy. However, his guards do what he says. If he wants someone to be
beaten to within an inch of their life, they will be. I don’t think he himself
would ever do much of the physical fighting.”

“Why bruise a knuckle, right?”

“Right,” she said.

“How old are you, Sara?”

She loved to hear the sound of his voice when he uttered her
name, well, what he thought was her name. “Eighteen. What about you?”