Pregnant! By the Prince
Eliza DeGaulle
Copyright 2014 Darkest Secrets Publishing
Kindle Edition
-Chapter One-
Terror, sheer, absolute terror.
Sitting in a chair in a dark room. My wrists handcuffed behind my back. I squirmed - I knew I had no chance of escape, but I wanted to get them so at least they wouldn't be digging into my skin.
There were men around me. They were what was really making it terrifying.
They spoke to each other, their lips moving a mile a minute. I'd be much more comfortable if I could understand a damn thing that they said. Instead, it was gibberish that my best guest was Russian or some other eastern European language.
If I could understand them, I'd know why the heck I was under arrest to begin with.
Horror stories - I heard them all. Ignorant, backwards shithole countries that are stuck in the nineteenth century.
Dolotovya. I divined that much with the help of the pilot who accidentally flew me here.
Suddenly, the officers surrounding me formed lines, and put their hands to their heads in salute. It almost invoked some level of homesickness, seeing so many of my father's Navy ceremonies. Unlike the clean uniforms and white gloves of American service men, though, these men were in mismatched clothes that were only uniforms in the loosest sense.
Hole-covered pants, shirts, one even unfortunately had one in his shoe.
The door that I had been dragged through opened. Through the darkness, approaching me under the dim light that hanging, was someone who stole my breath away.
This was a filthy country. All the men didn't rank on my lust radar, but I couldn't blame them. This man, though, was something else completely. His uniform was clean, pressed, with a good deal of medals on his breast. The expert tailoring of his outfit gave me an idea what was hidden underneath. There was a strong, hungry part of me that wanted to confirm my suspicions.
His face. It was soft, yet sharp. His jaw was purely manly, he had the most beautiful blue eyes.
"Hello, Miss."
I could get lost in them. I wanted to. His hair was jet black, and parted perfectly.
"Miss?"
That voice was sweet, not harsh like all the others.
His hand waving in front of my face revealed no ring. How can a man like him not be taken?
He grabbed my shoulder and shook me. "Are you okay?"
My eyes widened, realizing I was daydreaming. "You - you speak English?"
"Yes, I do. This is why I was called in. I wasn't expecting to find restrained beauty here, though."
I blushed and turned away from him. Stupid Bea, you're looking like a gibbering idiot.
He leaned in, his face close to mine. "We don't get many Americans here." He spoke with a light accent. It wasn't completely natural, I gathered, but he trained himself well. "May I ask for your name? Perhaps tell me why you have visited my humble country?"
His country?
***
My heart pounded, anxiety strong within me. Damn the endless delays. The plane from New York was held up an hour for whatever reason. That was annoying enough, but more annoying was my layover time was about that and fifteen minutes.
Through London's terminals, I ran as fast as I safely could through the crowds.
I had meant to meet up with my friends in Switzerland. It's where we were to start our summer journey together, seeing Europe, seeing the world. It was meant to be a good inspiration for my artwork - the best painters can only paint what they've experienced, not just seen in a picture. They need to capture the very feel of the sight. Its sounds, its smells, its sensations.
I was late, and told them I'd meet them during their travels. I felt terrible cursing my Grandmother's passing. I didn't want her to ever die, yes, but I especially didn't want her to die then. I was rushing from the funeral to the airport - the delay in New York was welcomed for the extra time.
There was the Zurich flight, finally boarding. I rushed in, and flashed the lady my ticket. She didn't want
Eliza DeGaulle
Copyright 2014 Darkest Secrets Publishing
Kindle Edition
-Chapter One-
Terror, sheer, absolute terror.
Sitting in a chair in a dark room. My wrists handcuffed behind my back. I squirmed - I knew I had no chance of escape, but I wanted to get them so at least they wouldn't be digging into my skin.
There were men around me. They were what was really making it terrifying.
They spoke to each other, their lips moving a mile a minute. I'd be much more comfortable if I could understand a damn thing that they said. Instead, it was gibberish that my best guest was Russian or some other eastern European language.
If I could understand them, I'd know why the heck I was under arrest to begin with.
Horror stories - I heard them all. Ignorant, backwards shithole countries that are stuck in the nineteenth century.
Dolotovya. I divined that much with the help of the pilot who accidentally flew me here.
Suddenly, the officers surrounding me formed lines, and put their hands to their heads in salute. It almost invoked some level of homesickness, seeing so many of my father's Navy ceremonies. Unlike the clean uniforms and white gloves of American service men, though, these men were in mismatched clothes that were only uniforms in the loosest sense.
Hole-covered pants, shirts, one even unfortunately had one in his shoe.
The door that I had been dragged through opened. Through the darkness, approaching me under the dim light that hanging, was someone who stole my breath away.
This was a filthy country. All the men didn't rank on my lust radar, but I couldn't blame them. This man, though, was something else completely. His uniform was clean, pressed, with a good deal of medals on his breast. The expert tailoring of his outfit gave me an idea what was hidden underneath. There was a strong, hungry part of me that wanted to confirm my suspicions.
His face. It was soft, yet sharp. His jaw was purely manly, he had the most beautiful blue eyes.
"Hello, Miss."
I could get lost in them. I wanted to. His hair was jet black, and parted perfectly.
"Miss?"
That voice was sweet, not harsh like all the others.
His hand waving in front of my face revealed no ring. How can a man like him not be taken?
He grabbed my shoulder and shook me. "Are you okay?"
My eyes widened, realizing I was daydreaming. "You - you speak English?"
"Yes, I do. This is why I was called in. I wasn't expecting to find restrained beauty here, though."
I blushed and turned away from him. Stupid Bea, you're looking like a gibbering idiot.
He leaned in, his face close to mine. "We don't get many Americans here." He spoke with a light accent. It wasn't completely natural, I gathered, but he trained himself well. "May I ask for your name? Perhaps tell me why you have visited my humble country?"
His country?
***
My heart pounded, anxiety strong within me. Damn the endless delays. The plane from New York was held up an hour for whatever reason. That was annoying enough, but more annoying was my layover time was about that and fifteen minutes.
Through London's terminals, I ran as fast as I safely could through the crowds.
I had meant to meet up with my friends in Switzerland. It's where we were to start our summer journey together, seeing Europe, seeing the world. It was meant to be a good inspiration for my artwork - the best painters can only paint what they've experienced, not just seen in a picture. They need to capture the very feel of the sight. Its sounds, its smells, its sensations.
I was late, and told them I'd meet them during their travels. I felt terrible cursing my Grandmother's passing. I didn't want her to ever die, yes, but I especially didn't want her to die then. I was rushing from the funeral to the airport - the delay in New York was welcomed for the extra time.
There was the Zurich flight, finally boarding. I rushed in, and flashed the lady my ticket. She didn't want
Similar Books
