The Prince's Stolen Virgin. Maisey YatesЧитать онлайн книгу.
is that? I don’t understand.”
“You don’t know where Santa Milagro is? I do question the American school system in that case. It is truly a shame that you had to be brought up here, Talia.”
Something niggled at her, something strange and steep. As deep as those wistful feelings she often felt when the air began to cool. “My name isn’t Talia.”
“Right. Briar.” His smile took on a sardonic twist. “My mistake.”
“The fact that I don’t know where Santa Milagro is is not the biggest issue we have. The biggest issue is that I’m not going to see your doctor. You’re just a crazy man that I met on the street. For all I know you stole that coat—it is a really nice coat—and you’re actually an insane vagrant.”
“A vagrant? No. Insane? Well. That matter is fully up for debate. I won’t lie.”
“José—”
“My name isn’t José. I’m Prince Felipe Carrión de la Viña Cortez. And you, my dear Briar, are mine by rights. I have spent a great many years looking for you, and now I have finally found you. And you’re coming with me.”
PRINCE FELIPE CARRIÓN DE LA VIÑA CORTEZ had yet to lose sleep over any of his actions. As long as he steered clear of covert murders to further his political status, he was better than his father.
A low bar, certainly. But Felipe liked a low bar. They were so much easier to step over.
And while this might be the lowest he’d stooped, it was also going very well. Surely if he wasn’t supposed to have Princess Talia she wouldn’t have delivered herself quite so beautifully to him.
Well, the part where she was hit by a taxi was perhaps not ideal, but it had certainly made the second half of his scheme easier. Because she was now confined to a hospital bed, being wheeled through an empty corridor—something he was pleased he’d arranged, because she was yelling for help, and it was much nicer to not have to deal with anyone trying to come to her aid—and he was going to have her undergo a quick check by a privately hired physician before having her loaded onto the plane.
He was covering all his bases, and truly, being quite generous.
Though he supposed the kiss hadn’t been wholly necessary. But remembering the way she had jolted when she’d seen him on the street, he had wondered. Wondered if there was enough electricity between them to shock her awake.
It had worked, apparently.
Other men might feel some guilt over kissing an unconscious woman. Not this man.
Not with this woman.
She was owed to him. Owed to Santa Milagro. She should be thankful that he was the one who had found her. Had it been his father...
Well. Yet more reasons Felipe would be losing no sleep over this. Life with him would be a kindness by comparison.
Though it was clear to him that his princess did not see it now.
“Are you insane?” She was still shouting, and he was becoming bored with it.
“As previously mentioned, it is entirely possible that I’m crazy. However, hurling it around like an epithet is hardly going to help.”
She looked up at him, her dark eyes blazing, the confusion from earlier cleared from them. Even now—in a hospital gown—she was beautiful. Though her rich skin tone would be better served in golds, colors like gems. Not the sallow, white and blue cloth her slight curves were currently covered by.
No, he would see her dressed like a queen, which she soon would be. His queen. Once his father died and Felipe assumed the throne.
He had a feeling his father would be distinctly unhappy to know that Felipe had managed to track down the quarry his father had spent so many years searching for. Good thing the old bastard was bound to his bed.
Though, even if he was not, Felipe had the support of the people, and at this point, the support of the military. He supposed considering treason in the form of dispatching his own father was probably not the best course of action.
Though, if the old man was healthier, the likelihood of him considering it would be much higher.
There would be no need to do that. No. Instead, he would bring Talia back to the palace, and he would parade her before his father like a cat might deliver a bird to its master. Except the old king was not Felipe’s master. Not anymore.
He passed the nurse a large stack of US dollars after she helped load the princess into the back of the van he had hired. He would not be paying anyone with anything traceable. No. He wanted all of this to go off without a ripple in the media.
Until he decided to make the tidal wave.
This would be one of his grandest illusions, and he was a master of them. Sleight of hand and other trickery so that he would be consistently underestimated on the world stage. Because it suited him. It suited him endlessly.
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.”