Princess in Disguise (10 page)

She opened her mouth to respond and he threw up a hand. “You never just say yes to
one single thing. Is that because you are a woman, or because you are a Scot?”

She frowned. “You don’t need to be insulting.”

He grinned and stood and held out his hand. “I apologize, Miss—?”

“Lily Balfour.” As she reached up to place her hand in his, one of her red-gold curls
fell to her shoulder.

Her rescuer froze, an odd expression on his face as he reached past her hand to grasp
her hair. Slowly, he threaded it through his fingers, his gaze locking with hers.

Her heart leapt as his hand grazed her cheek and she had the oddest sense of breathlessness,
as if she’d just run up a flight of stairs.

Cheeks hot, she tugged her curl free from the ­stranger’s grasp and repinned it with
hands that seemed oddly awkward. “That’s— You shouldn’t touch my hair.”

“It is not permitted.”

“No.”

“It should be.” He sighed regretfully. “Come. I will take you to your home.”

Relieved to hear that was his intention, she brushed some leaves from her skirts just
as he bent and scooped her up as if she were a blade of grass.

Before she could do more than gasp, he began striding through the woods.

Lily had little choice but to hang on as best as she could, uncomfortably aware of
the deliciously spicy cologne that tickled her nose and made her long to burrow her
face against him. “What are you doing?”

He looked down at her, surprised. “I’m carrying you.”

“You can’t just carry me off like this!”

“But I have.” There was no rancor in his voice, no sense of correcting her. Instead,
his tone was that of someone patiently trying to explain something. “I have carried
you off, and carried off you will be.”

She scowled up at him. “Look here, Mr. Piotr—”

“Romanovin.”

She paused, interested in spite of herself. “Mr. Piotr Romanovin, then.”

His grinned, his teeth white in his black beard. “Yes, I am Piotr Aleksander Romanovin
of Oxenburg.”

Though she hardly knew him, his relaxed grin was reassuring. He looked like many things—handsome,
exotic, overbearing, strong—but he would not harm her. Her instincts and common sense
both agreed on that. “Why were you in this forest?”

“Ah, I brought my—how you say,
babushka
? Ah yes, grandmother. I brought her to see the house I have just purchased.”

She must be safe, then, Lily decided, for no man would invite his own grandmother
to a ravishment.

The amazing green eyes now locked with hers. “You will meet my grandmother soon, but
not today. I think you will like her.”

It sounded like an order.

She managed a faint smile. “I’m sure we’ll adore each other. But really, I doubt we’ll
meet.”

“No? I think you are a guest of the Duchess of Roxburghe, no? These are her woods.”

“How do you know the duchess?”

He shrugged, his huge shoulder moving against her cheek. “Her grace knows my grandmother.
They’ve known each other since they were schoolgirls, although I do not think they
were fond of each other.”

“Ah. Yet they are fond enough now that the duchess invited your grandmother to visit?”

“Of course. A rivalry is no reason for rudeness. It is the way of the world to have
rivals, no?”

“I suppose so. I just— Look, I really should wait here for the duchess’s men. Once
the horse returns to the stables, they will come looking for me. And if they don’t
find me, they’ll think something horrible has happened.”

“I will send my men to wait for the duchess’s servants, so no one will be left untended.”

“Your men?” She frowned. “You said that before. How many men do you have?”

His gaze slid away. “Enough.”

“Then you’re a military leader.” That explained his boldness and overassuredness.

“Yes.”

“What are you? A corporal? A sergeant?”

“I am in charge.” A faint note of surprise colored his voice, as if he were irritated
that she should think anything else.

“You’re in charge of what? A squad? A battalion?”

“Of course not.” He looked a bit insulted. “I am in charge of it all.”

She blinked. “Of the entire military of Oxenburg?”

“I shall tell you, because the duchess will soon say it anyway. I am not a general.
I am a prince, which is why the duchess has asked that my grandmother and I attend
her events. I had not thought to accept her invitation, but now—” He grinned down
at her, his teeth flashing. “Now, I think I will agree.”

“Wait. You’re a
prince
?”

He shrugged, his broad shoulders making his cape swing. “I am one of four.”

She couldn’t wrap her mind around the thought of a room full of men like the one before
her now: huge, broad shouldered, bulging with muscles and lopsided smiles, their dark
hair falling over their brows and into their green eyes . . . She couldn’t picture
it. She fixed her gaze on his face. “If you’re a prince then you must be fabulously
wealthy.”

He looked down at her. “Not every prince has money, Moya.”

“Some do.”

“And some do not. Sadly, I am the poorest of all my brothers.”

Her disappointment must have shown on her face, for he regarded her with a narrowed
gaze. “You do not like this, Miss Lily Balfour?”

She sighed. “No, no I don’t.”

He paused and looked down, one brow arching. “Why not?”

“Sadly, some of us must marry for money.”

“I see.” He continued to carry her, his brow lowered. “And this is you, then? You
must marry for money?”

“Yes.”

“But what if you fall in love?”

Lily didn’t know if it was the shock of her fall or the fact that she felt so safe
in his arms, but she heard herself say with completely honesty, “I have to marry a
wealthy man to aid my family’s situation, and you are the first man I thought was . . .
interesting. So yes, I’m sorry to hear that you are not wealthy.” She detected the
flash of disappointment in his gaze and said quickly, “I wouldn’t be looking for a
wealthy husband, except that I must. Our house is entailed and my father hasn’t been
very good about— Oh, it’s complicated. But I have no choice. I
must
marry for money.”

He seemed to consider this. After a moment, he nodded. “You need funds to save your
family home. It is noble that you are willing to sacrifice yourself.”

“You think it will be a sacrifice? I was hoping that I might find someone I could
care for, too.”

“You wish to fall in love with a rich man. Life is not always so accommodating.”

“Yes, but it’s possible. The duchess is helping me. She’s invited several gentlemen
for me to meet—”

“All wealthy.”

“All wealthy gentlemen.” Lily turned her gaze to his and sighed. At one time, a wealthy
gentleman had seemed enough. Now, she wished she could also ask for a not-wealthy
prince. One like this one, who carried her so gently and whose eyes gleamed with humor
beneath the fall of his black hair.

But it was not to be. All she had were these few moments. She sighed again and rested
her head against his broad shoulder.
This will have to be enough.

ALSO BY KAREN HAWKINS

THE DUCHESS DIARIES SERIES

How to Capture a Countess

THE HURST AMULET SERIES

One Night in Scotland

Scandal in Scotland

A Most Dangerous Profession

The Taming of a Scottish Princess

THE M
AC
LEAN CURSE SERIES

How to Abduct a Highland Lord

To Scotland, With Love

To Catch a Highlander

Sleepless in Scotland

The Laird Who Loved Me

CONTEMPORARY ROMANCE

Talk of the Town

Lois Lane Tells All

PREQUEL TO HURST AMULET AND M
AC
LEAN CURSE SERIES

Much Ado About Marriage

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