Page 27 of The Prince and His Stolen Groom
Brendon returned to the ballroom and promptly drank half a bowl of rum punch, desperately trying to erase the memory. Whatever else he’d forgotten that night, the image of his fiancée’s impassioned embrace was seared into his mind.
He knewtwo things without a doubt: his future wife would never love him.
And he had no choice but to marry her anyway.
Returning to the current trouble, Brendon stumbled through the woods, burdened with the weight of another man. His fiancée’s brother, to be precise. Her kidnapping, troublemaking, feverish, and possibly dying brother.
Brendon was supposed to be spending this week with Francesca. His mother had suggested arriving on the wedding day, marrying her, and then returning home. It was Brendon who insisted he should come a week early to give himself and Francesca time to acquaint themselves. Time to see if they could be friends, even if they would never fall in love. Time to find a solution so they could both be happy.
Time to run, if all else failed.
Before he could even meet his bride, her damned meddlesome brother had taken matters into his own hands. Perhaps Brendon would have thanked him if his plan involved more than ‘lock the groom in a magic tower.’ Although now the plan apparently included ‘and then get my stupid ass poisoned.’
Alright, that probably wasn’t planned, but it certainly was a giant pain in Brendon’s ass. And arms. Rick might not win any weightlifting competitions, but he had enough muscle on his slender frame to slow Brendon down.
If Rick had been a true villain, Brendon would have abandoned him in the tower, but he had to admit that being kidnapped hadn’t been too bad. The bed was comfortable. There were plenty of books to read and no other demands on his time. Though the kitchen fare was simple, it was plentiful. Rick had even gone out of his way when he was clearly sick to bring Brendon new clothes. The last few days had been oddly pleasant, lacking the awkwardness and misery Brendon had anticipated for the week leading up to his unfortunate nuptials.
That didn’t mean it could continue. At some point, Brendon had to meet his bride. He just hadn’t expected to be in the middle of saving someone’s life at the same time.
It was almost dark by the time he arrived at the castle. He didn’t want anyone to misunderstand why he was carrying the unconscious prince, especially since Kit had apparently taken his place these last few days. There would be questions, possibly accusations, definitely confusion, and Rick might not have time for any of that.
So, Brendon carried Rick to the stables first. He could stash the unconscious prince in an empty stall while he searched for help. Preferably someone who would recognize him.
As Brendon set Rick down in the hay, a noise drew his attention to the back of the stable. He froze and listened, wondering if the stable hands would catch him in an awkward position. No one raised an alarm, but the noises increased in volume, pants and grunts, something clattering against the wood, all coming from the last stall. It sounded like one of the animals might be in pain.
Brendon approached the stall, worried he would need to fetch both a human healer and an animal one. To his surprise, the door was unlocked and hanging open an inch. He pushed it all the way open and arched his brows in shock at the scene before him: two bodies entangled in a passionate embrace, oblivious to the world around them.
Crossing his arms, Brendon leaned against the wall and waited for an opening. With the way they moaned and squirmed, he didn’t think they’d hear him unless he shouted, and no one else needed to witness this. After the panting increased in pace, there was a long, drawn-out gasp. Then the figure on top slumped over, revealing their partner’s face.
Kit glowed with happy, sated pleasure. Until those brown eyes landed on Brendon and widened to comical proportions. “Your Highness!”
“Mm, you don’t have to call me that,” Francesca murmured dreamily, sprawled over Kit’s chest. One hand remained tangled in Kit’s short hair, twisting the curls around her fingertips.
“Not you.”
“Oh, fuck. Fred—” She propped herself up and half-turned around. Her words dried up at the sight of Brendon.
He stared back in shock at her breasts spilling out from her bodice, covered in love bites. She fumbled with the cloth, and he finally covered his eyes to give her some semblance of privacy. “I’ll give you a moment to make yourselves presentable, shall I?”
Frantic rustling and whispers followed, along with the clank of armor and, “No, no, don’t bother with that now.”
“Alright, we’re ready,” Kit said.
Brendon uncovered his eyes, glad to see Francesca had tucked her breasts away. Even more glad that it had been her, and not Kit, who had been mostly unclothed. Though Kit had somewhat mellowed overthe years, she would still probably punch him out of embarrassment alone. “Would you care to explain yourselves?” he asked. “Or should I make an educated guess?”
It took less than two seconds for Francesca to go on the offensive. “Explain ourselves? Why don’t you explainyourself!You’re the one who disappeared, leaving poor Kit to take your place! She’s been boiling in that armor for four days now. She almost fell down the stairs.Twice.”
He opened his mouth to tell her exactly what had happened—how it washer brotherwho hadkidnapped him. It would clear his own name, tarnishing Rick’s in the process. Rick, who had only been trying to secure his sister’s happiness. Whose eyes sparkled with mischief whenever he outsmarted Brendon. Whose moans were so sweet and tantalizing. Who Brendon knew ten times better than his furious bride-to-be.
“Regardless of where I have been, I’d like to discuss whatyou twohave been doing in my absence. When, exactly, did you discover Kit’s identity?”
Pursing her lips, Francesca admitted, “The night before you arrived. I went to the Tipped Over Cup, wanting to meet you in private first.”
She and Rick had had the same idea, Rick had just executed his more quickly. Had Rick known about Francesca’s plan, or did the siblings simply think alike?
“Instead, I found Kit and your attendants frantically searching the place after you’d run away.” She fluffed her frazzled black curls, not quite looking at Brendon as she explained, “I’m the one who came up with the story about not seeing the groom before the wedding. Though I wish I’d thought of something better—there were too many questions. Even Fred was suspicious, and while I adore my dear brother, he isn’t the sharpest sword in the armory.”
Of course Rick would be suspicious, since he was the real reason Brendon had disappeared. “And what were you planning to do if I never returned? If the wedding day arrived and your groom was a fake?”
