Chapter 11
She surfaced at noon. The delicious tingling of her body was the first thing that hit her. She was sore in places she had never experienced soreness before. She had been well and truly used, and it felt wonderful.
Her eyes drifted open, the smile hovering on her lips. The sunlight, though weak, hit her full in the face before it registered that there was someone else in the room and the space next to her on the bed was empty.
She came fully awake when the cheerful voice greeted her. It did not sound like the prince. She was about to sit up when she remembered just in time that beneath the sheets, she was completely and utterly naked. And her very chatty maid was in her bedroom.
"Carmen! I- er-" Clutching the sheets to her breasts, she sent up a silent prayer that the prince had obviously gone to his suite and hoped to God he had left before someone saw him. "It's late. I slept through breakfast."
The woman nodded and bent to pick something off the carpet. To her mortification, Antoinette saw that it was her lingerie.
"I must have left that there," she said foolishly.
"I brought you something from the kitchen. Prince Tomas said not to disturb you."
Her mortification doubled along with her anger. The bastard had done that deliberately. By telling the maid not to disturb her, he had effectively revealed that he had spent the night in her bed. Tamping down the anger with great difficulty, she tried to pass it off as nothing.
"I- I er- he must have checked on me. I wasn't feeling well last night, you see." Her voice trailed off as she realized she was making things worse. "Is the queen back?"
"She's on her way. The prince has left." Carmen was staring at her curiously. No doubt the woman was wondering what the prince saw in her, and was also thinking that she was a slut.
Unable to bear the judgment any longer, she dismissed the woman.
"I was about to draw you a bath."
"I would rather do it myself." She forced a smile to take the sting out of the sentence. "Really. I think I might sleep some more. Take advantage of my time off."
"Are you certain?" The woman looked as if she was about to dig in her heels.
"I'm positive. Thanks for bringing the meal. I really appreciate it."
"Of course." Carmen nodded and turned to leave. Realizing that she still had the flimsy material in her hands, she folded it carefully and placed it on the sofa.
Clutching the sheets to her naked breasts, Antoinette waited until the woman had left the suite before leaning her head back and closing her eyes.
No doubt, she was going to be the topic of discussion for the next few days or even weeks.
She had specifically told him, had laid down her rules, and no one was supposed to know about them.
And what had he done? He had made sure that people knew about them, to force her hand.
With a militant look in her eyes, she climbed out of bed and into the bathroom.
*****
The four-wheel drive had no trouble climbing the steep hill or navigating the hairpin bends.
The sheer drop would have petrified a lesser person or one who was not familiar with the road, but he was used to it.
He had been coming here for years. It was his go-to place whenever he was emotionally uncertain.
In the past, it had been when he had a disagreement with the king.
A difference of opinion would always turn into a massive argument.
The man had lacked principles, doing whatever he pleased, with little or no regard for anyone.
And he had expected his son and heir to follow suit. Tomas had rebelled, something that had alienated his father and put them constantly at odds with each other.
The cottage was nondescript, a washed-out pale red brick stuck on a slight incline and surrounded by a prime piece of land. It had belonged to him, until he handed over the deed to the man and his family who now resided there.
Santiago Delgado had been an employee at the palace for years until he lost sight in one eye and was unable to adequately perform his duties as a gardener to the king's satisfaction.
For his years of faithful service, he had been let go with a measly severance pay, barely enough to take care of his family.
The cottage they occupied on the palace grounds was no longer available to them.
Tomas had known Santiago since he was a child and the man had shown him more kindness than his own father. When Tomas realized what had happened, he had marched into the throne room and demanded that his father keep Santiago on.
"Give him something else to do. The man and his family have been here for years. You cannot just throw him out like trash. How heartless can you be?"
That made no impression on the king, who told him bluntly, "I'm the king, which means I'm in charge and my decision is law. When you take over, you can do as you please. He goes."
The prime piece of land and the cottage had been inherited from his grandfather on his father's side.
Tomas had not hesitated to hand over the deed to Santiago, making sure that they could not be touched.
The place was solely his, which gave him the freedom to do with it as he pleased.
Santiago had been very grateful and had taken possession of the land and had done wonders with it.
The soil was fertile and within a year, the man was growing all sorts of vegetables and fruits and turning it into a business.
Tomas never left them out. He would visit with gifts for Elena, the wife, and their two children. The queen had done her part when she took over by offering scholarships to the two children. Both were now grown with lives of their own and living in Madrid.
Parking the jeep at the base of the steps, he experienced the joy he always felt whenever he stopped by.
Someone, no doubt Elena, had washing hanging on the line even though the sky was a dreary leaden gray.
Cheerful lime green curtains fluttered in the breeze coming through the window and the door was partially open.
They spotted him as soon as he exited the vehicle and came to stand on the porch.
"You should have told us you were coming." With a pleased smile, the buxom Elena marched over to embrace him. Stepping back, she held him at arm's length, studying him critically.
"You look a little thinner than when I last saw you. What are they feeding you up at that palace?"
"Leave the man alone," Santiago chided his wife as he came to clap a hand on Tomas's shoulder. "You'd better come on in. She's going to start cooking up a storm."
"That's good because I'm yet to break my fast." He hefted the bags he had brought with him. "And I come bearing gifts."
Blushing in delight, Elena hugged him again. "You're such a blessing. Come in, please."
While Elena bustled around the homely kitchen preparing the meal, Tomas and Santiago retired to the back porch overlooking the majority of the land and sharing the packet of cigars he had brought with him.
"It's been a good year," Santiago remarked, puffing out smoke, dark eyes narrowed as it filtered upward. "The winter's going to be brutal." He muttered something in Spanish as he continued to eye the crops. "I'm thinking of adding chickpeas come spring."
Tomas cast the man an amused glance. "I thought you were cutting back."
Santiago sent a furtive look over his shoulder to make certain his wife was not within hearing distance.
"I keep telling Elena that, but aside from being on the wrong side of sixty and legally blind in one eye, I'm perfectly healthy.
What else am I going to do?" he complained. "Sit on my ass and twiddle my thumbs?"
"You could try taking a cruise. Or buying a boat and taking up fishing."
The older man's response was an indelicate snort.
"I'm not cut out for that sort of thing. The kids are grown, the grandchildren are teenagers who hardly visit, because they claim the place is too isolated for them." He shook his head and puffed some more.
"They prefer the city. If we want to see them, we have to traipse all the way to Madrid, which means going out of our way. The wife is more eager than I am to travel. I love this place." He glanced at the young man who had made it possible to have a home and make a life for him and his family.
He knew what people thought of the prince.
He had read the various magazines and how they classified him.
But he knew better. Tomas was not like his wretch of a father, even though the king had tried his bloody best to mold the boy into his own image.
The prince had a heart of gold and a compassionate nature a mile wide.
"You have something on your mind."
Leaning back against the soft, well-washed cushions in the ladder-back chair, he lifted a brow. "Which implies that my mind is usually empty?"
Brushing that aside, Santiago stretched his legs out and faced the prince squarely. "Whenever you drop by for an unscheduled visit, I know something is bothering you. You're not that difficult to read."
"I could take umbrage with that. I had no idea I was this predictable."
"I've known you since you were in diapers," Santiago pointed out.
It occurred to Tomas that the man seated next to him was the only person who could get away with talking to him this way. Santiago and his wife did not see him as a prince, but as a human being, someone who was more than his title.
"Something you constantly remind me of," he said dryly. Tilting his head back, he glanced at the leaden sky and wondered if they were going to get some rain. His mind drifted back to last night and the woman he had reluctantly left in bed.
"I met someone."
"She's special."
It was a statement, not a question, and proved how much the man knew him.
"Surprisingly so. She's not my usual type."
"You mean she's not one of those false and snotty society types who's after you for what you can do for them." The scorn in the man's voice had Tomas smiling.