Free Her Prince's Secret Son by Linda Goodnight Page B

would not be taken lightly and she could almost feel sorry for anyone who crossed the prince of Carvainia.
    When she hesitated, his jaw flexed. “Speak, woman!”
    Sara’s tongue flicked out over lips gone dry as the Sahara.“All right, but you may not like what I have to say. Twice before when Nico’s stomach hurt, he had been tended by Maria during the preceding hours. And then this morning I saw someone go into his room. I thought the person might have been her.”
    Skepticism replaced some of his intensity. “There is nothing sinister in that. Maria is devoted to the little prince just as her son was devoted to me.”
    “But Nico was sick after her visits. Twice.”
    “A coincidence. Nothing more. In case you’ve forgotten, he’s been a very sick boy. Maria is devoted to him and has nursed him tirelessly since this nightmare began.”
    “But what if her devotion is a ploy to do him harm?”
    Aleks slammed a fist into his palm. “Enough! You have no idea what you’re saying.”
    Pulse clattering and more than a little nervous at rousing his ire, Sara refused to back down. He might be the all-powerful Oz but he did not rule her. “Then enlighten me. What’s so special about this woman?”
    “Her son.”
    “And who might that be?”
    His jaw clenched and unclenched, as though he held back great emotion. “Carlo. You remember.”
    “Carlo? Your friend? Of course, I do.” The image of a stocky young man with a wrestler’s build formed in her head. “He was very quiet, but a nice guy. A gentle giant.”
    The prince’s voice dropped to a murmur. “The best friend I ever had.”
    The past tense was not lost on Sara. Dread pulled at her gut. “What happened to him?”
    “He died saving my life.”
    His tortured expression shattered Sara’s restraint. She knewhow close he and Carlo had been. She also knew Aleks would feel responsible for his friend’s death, whether he was or not.
    With no thought of the wall that now separated them, Sara moved to his side, circling him with her arms, her need to comfort overriding the fear of rejection.
    When Aleks didn’t resist, she laid her head on his shoulder and whispered, “I am terribly sorry.”
    One of his strong, warrior’s hands came up to press her back, bringing her closer.
    “As am I.”
    The admission was barely a whisper against her hair, the tension in his body rock hard and thrumming with leashed emotion.
    She closed her eyes against the unexpected wash of feelings. No matter the years and sorrows between them, she still loved the scent and texture of his skin, the corded strength of him, the depth of character that had made her love him with every fiber of her being.
    She touched his side, remembering the knotty, horrid scars. Aleks flinched but didn’t pull away. Instead he buried his face in her hair and sighed, his breath warm against her scalp.
    “The grenade that hurt you,” she murmured. “Was that when it happened?”
    Beneath the smooth cloth of his shirt, the scars were easily felt along the honed ridges of his ribs and belly. With a light touch, her fingers studied the shape and breadth of his terrible wounds, massaging gently as if to erase his pain and memories.
    “Yes. Then.” She heard him swallow. “Carlo threw himself on the grenade to protect me. I was injured but he was killed. He died in service to his ruler, but more than that, he gave his life for a friend.”
    He lifted his head and Sara saw the suffering caused byCarlo’s sacrifice. She saw something else, too, and her pulse quickened as Aleks’s pupils dilated and his gaze flicked to her mouth.
    Could he possibly want to kiss her? Did she want him to?
    It was her turn to swallow. Her lips parted. Then, as if her acceptance was a turnoff, Aleks gently but firmly pulled away.
    The sense of loss stunned her. In that brief moment in Aleks’s arms, she’d longed, not only for his kiss, but for his love.
    Wouldn’t she ever learn? She turned to the side and pressed a