Be My Prince by Julianne MacLean Page A

breathlessly. “My stepmother is probably searching for me at this very moment, and if she learns where I’ve been—”
    “It doesn’t matter.” He took her face in his hands. “I will marry you. If we are engaged, she will have no more hold on you, at least not for long.”
    Alexandra pressed her hands to his chest, for if she gave in to the smallest temptation to go on kissing him like this, there would be no turning back.
    “You don’t understand,” she said. “My life is not what you think. There are things you don’t know about me.”
    “Then tell me now. I want to know everything.”
    Her stomach dropped. She couldn’t tell him. Not now.
    But when? Could she ever reveal such a thing to him? What would it mean for the succession if she married the younger son? The throne would not be hers, and there might be another civil war if the people of Petersbourg discovered the truth. She did not want to be the cause of that.
    Lightning flashed in the windows again, followed by another thunderclap.
    “I really must go.” She reached over him for her gloves, pulled them on, and made for the door.
    “Wait.” He caught her by the hand. “I must have you.”
    “Please, Nicholas.”
    She flicked the door latch and stepped out into the rain. He followed her, and together they hurried back to the museum.
    “Meet me again tomorrow,” he said. “ Please. In the garden at Grosvenor Square.”
    Not wanting to linger too long on the street, she nodded. “Fine. I will be there at the gate at two o’clock when my stepmother takes her afternoon nap. Now let me go, and do not follow!”
    With that, she rejoined the museum tour.
    *   *   *
    Throughout the evening and all the next day, the memory of that kiss filled Alexandra with yearning as she anticipated another secret rendezvous with Nicholas that very day.
    It wasn’t easy to hide her feelings from Lucille, however, who asked more than once what she was daydreaming about when she was caught staring off into space.
    When the clock finally struck two and Lucille announced she would retire to her bedchamber for her nap, Alex mentioned casually that she might take a walk in the garden, for it was such a lovely day.
    A short while later, wearing her blue-and-white-striped walking dress and a pale blue bonnet with a wide brim that shaded her eyes, she left the house and crossed the street to the gate, where she took note of a coach parked at the curb with two black horses and a dark-coated driver.
    At first she thought it might be the palace coach, but upon closer scrutiny, she noticed it bore no crest.
    A flicker of apprehension coursed through her, for she had lived too long with the knowledge of her father’s execution and had never felt truly safe in her surroundings. She was always glancing over her shoulder, locking doors behind her.
    With growing unease, she wondered if she should return to the house, but there was no time to mull it over before the door of the coach swung open and a gentleman stepped out.
    Nicholas.
    Oh, thank God.
    “Come this way.” He waved her over. “The driver will take us around the square.”
    Still somewhat shaken, Alexandra hurried to the coach and climbed inside. He followed her in, shut the door, and drew the blinds.
    “I thought I would go mad waiting for this moment,” he told her as he removed his hat.
    The coach lurched forward, but Alexandra was oblivious to the movement, for she was lost in the husky rumble of his voice and the captivating blue of his eyes as he slid closer and immediately pressed his lips to hers.
    A wild passion flared through her, and she took his face in her hands, fearing that he might slip through her fingers if she didn’t hold tightly enough.
    The kiss was rougher this time, more aggressive, but she drank it in without restraint. She wanted this man badly enough to deny what she had accepted as her destiny. She would do anything for him. She would walk through fire or climb the highest