The Unlawfully Wedded Princess. Kara Lennox

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The Unlawfully Wedded Princess - Kara Lennox Mills & Boon American Romance

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“Josie, what have you been telling him?”

      “But that’s where kids go when they don’t have parents,” Josie said. “Remember that movie we saw, Annie?”

      “There are no orphanages in Korosol, sweetheart,” Eleanor interjected. A bell announced the elevator’s arrival, and she gave Nick and the kids quick hugs.

      “Call me later.”

      The elevator doors opened, and Amelia started to get on, but Eleanor held her back. “Amelia, I just remembered, I have a…package for you to take home with you.”

      Ugh. More study materials about Korosol. Amelia hadn’t read so much boring material since her last political science class. Nick and the kids boarded the elevator. Jakob waved to her, Josie stared at her, her young face full of disappointment. Nick pointedly ignored her.

      Amelia wanted to scream at the ineffectual way she’d handled the situation.

      “Come back to my office,” Eleanor said. “I don’t really have anything to give you. But I wanted to talk to you…about Nicky.”

      She said nothing else until they were settled in Eleanor’s little alcove sipping tea. “How much do you know about Nick’s past?” Ellie asked.

      Amelia shrugged. “Not very much, really. We became friends in Palemeir, but we never talked about personal things.” He’d been easy with her, kind to the children, but she’d recognized an emotional wall when she saw one. There were certain boundaries she’d learned not to cross during their brief acquaintance. One of those was Nick Standish didn’t talk about his past.

      “Let me show you something.” Eleanor reached behind her and picked up a silver-framed photo from a group of personal knickknacks she’d arranged on top of a low bookcase. She handed it wordlessly to Amelia.

      The subject of the photo took Amelia’s breath away. It was an informal portrait of a family—a beautiful young woman with black hair and dark, dramatic eyes, laughing into the camera; a darling little boy not much older than Jakob, his eyes full of mischief; and a younger, more boyish-looking Nick.

      “He was married?” This was something Amelia had a hard time visualizing.

      “For five years, very happily. Then Monette and William died in a car accident, about four years ago. It changed Nicky, made him into a different person. He resigned from the army and became a mercenary. He took crazy chances with his life—I believe he didn’t care whether he lived or died.”

      Amelia struggled to absorb this new piece of the puzzle that made up Nick. Now his aura of reckless danger made sense. She’d been drawn to it as much as to his rugged, handsome face and enough muscles for a wrestling team. He and his band of ragtag soldiers had been hired to subdue rebel forces and restore order to the capital city. But somehow he’d gotten caught up in the plight of refugees trying to flee the fighting.

      “Those children have changed him,” Eleanor went on. “He’s not quite the lighthearted, fun-loving man he was before, but I see flashes of the old Nicky beginning to surface. If he loses Josie and Jakob, I don’t know what will become of him. A man can only take so much pain.”

      “I had no idea he’d suffered such a terrible loss.”

      “I wanted to tell you—not because I think there’s anything more you can do, but just so you’ll understand why he’s acting a bit harsh.”

      “I don’t blame him. I put him in a terrible position. If I’d only realized—”

      “Don’t blame yourself, either, Your Highness.”

      “Please, could you call me Amelia? We’ve become friends, after all.”

      “Yes, but you’re soon to be queen.”

      Amelia resisted the urge to groan. She detested pomp and circumstance.

      “At any rate,” Eleanor went on, “I wanted to express my appreciation for what you did to help Nick and the kids. It was a huge risk for you as well, staying behind until the ICF practically dragged you out.”

      But it had been an easy choice for Amelia. It might have been a marriage of convenience, but she’d have done anything to protect those children. And Nick—well, saying vows in a church with him at her side had been a little frightening, but a part of her had thrilled at the idea of being married to such a powerful, dangerous man.

      If she had it to do over again, she would have stayed with them, returned to Korosol with them and consequences be damned. But she’d made the wrong decision. Now she carried the responsibility of that mistake with her. The fates of those children were on her head, and it was up to her to make things right. But how?

      Chapter Three

      Macy’s opened early on Sunday morning specifically for a private royal shopping party. As Amelia shopped for baby things with her two sisters and Hester, she couldn’t get her mind off Nick’s dilemma.

      No wife, no adoption, no kids.

      “Hey, how about this?” Lucia held up a hot-pink romper embossed with psychedelic flowers.

      “Mmm, cute,” Amelia said absently.

      “Cute?” CeCe repeated. “It’s ghastly. Even Lucia knows it’s ghastly, and she’s a bohemian. She was trying to get a reaction out of you, and you aren’t paying the least bit of attention. I need your help with the nursery decor.”

      “I’m sorry,” Amelia said. “I’m just a little distracted.”

      “Poor dear,” Hester said, putting her arm around Amelia. “It’s that Nicholas, isn’t it. You’ve been blue ever since he showed up. Well, he’ll be gone soon.”

      “That’s just what worries me,” Amelia said, sinking into a cherry-wood rocking chair. “He believes he doesn’t have a prayer with the Ministry of Family. But he’s not about to relinquish those kids. I’m afraid he’ll do something desperate.”

      “You mean like kidnap the kids and take them to Canada or somewhere?” Lucia asked, pulling up her own rocking chair.

      “Exactly. Nick is a skilled mercenary and survivalist,” Amelia said, anxiety building in her chest. “He could slip across any border undetected. But that’s no way to bring up children. They need a stable, safe home.”

      “Stable and safe is overrated,” Lucia said, drawing one leg up and resting her chin on her knee. “You’ve said that yourself a million times.”

      “Yes, but I’m an adult. With children it’s different.”

      “Children love adventure, too.”

      Lucia was the real rebel in the family. She lived in a loft in SoHo despite their mother’s vociferous objections, crafting avant-garde jewelry in her studio and actually selling it to the public. Charlotte thought it was far too common an activity for a princess, but Lucia was starting to make a name for herself. Her brooches and earrings were showing up on debutantes all over New York, and even a few Hollywood actresses had been seen displaying Lucia’s designs.

      With

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