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Gabriella & Alexander: An Anthology (The Royals of Cordina) - Softcover

Roberts, Nora

 
9780373281541: Gabriella & Alexander: An Anthology (The Royals of Cordina)
Softcover
ISBN 10: 0373281544 ISBN 13: 9780373281541
Verlag: Silhouette, 2011

Inhaltsangabe

Affaire Royale

Princess Gabriella had escaped captivity, but she'd lost her memory and her kidnappers were still on the loose. She needed a protector fast, and brash American Reeve MacGee was the perfect man for the job. The handsome ex-policeman could handle absolutely anything—except falling in love with the stunning, vulnerable woman in his care.

Command Performance

Years ago Eve Hamilton had a fleeting schoolgirl crush on the powerful, reserved and compelling Prince Alexander—but he'd clearly disapproved of her. Finally reunited, Alex is fascinated by the beautiful, independent woman Eve has become, and suddenly he wants to show her that he is all the man she could ever want.…

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Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

Nora Roberts is the bestselling author of more than two hundred romance novels. She was the first author to be inducted into the Romance Writers of America Hall of Fame. Since her first bestseller in 1991, Nora’s books have spent more than two hundred weeks in the number one spot on the New York Times bestseller list. There are more than five hundred million copies of her books in print, published in over thirty-four countries.

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"She's coming out of it."

"Thank God."

"Sir, you must step back for a moment and let me examine her. She may just be drifting again."

Over the mists she was swimming in, she heard the voices. Hollow, distant. Fear scrambled through her. Even in her half-conscious state her breath began to catch. She hadn't escaped. But the fear wouldn't show. She promised herself that. As she came closer to the surface, she closed her hands into tight fists. The feel of her fingers against her palms gave her some sense of self and control.

Slowly she opened her eyes. Her vision ebbed, clouded, then gradually cleared. So, as she stared into the face bending over her, did the fear.

The face wasn't familiar. It wasn't one of them. She'd know, wouldn't she? Her confidence wavered a moment, but she remained still. This face was round and pleasant, with a trim, curling white beard that contrasted with the smooth, bald head. The eyes were shrewd, tired, but kind. When he took her hand in his, she didn't struggle.

"My dear," he said in a charming, low-key voice. Gently he ran a finger over her knuckles until her fingers relaxed. "You're quite safe."

She felt him take her pulse, but continued to stare into his eyes. Safe. Still cautious, she let her gaze wander away from his. Hospital. Though the room was almost elegant and quite large, she knew she was in a hospital. The room smelled strongly of flowers and antiseptics. Then she saw the man standing just to the side.

His bearing was militarily straight and he was impeccably dressed. His hair was flecked with gray, but it was still very dark and full. His face was lean, aristocratic, handsome. It was stern, she thought, but pale, very pale compared to the shadows under his eyes. Despite his stance and dress, he looked as though he hadn't slept in days.

"Darling." His voice shook as he reached down to take her free hand. There were tears under the words as he pressed her fingers to his lips. She thought she felt the hand, which was strong and firm, tremble lightly. "We have you back now, my love. We have you back."

She didn't pull away. Compassion forbade it. With her hand lying limply in his, she studied his face a second time. "Who are you?"

The man's head jerked up. His damp eyes stared into hers. "Who—"

"You're very weak." Gently the doctor cut him off and drew her attention away. She saw him put a hand on the man's arm, in restraint or comfort, she couldn't tell. "You've been through a great deal. Confusion's natural at first."

Lying flat on her back, she watched the doctor send signals to the other man. A raw sickness began to roll inside her stomach. She was warm and dry, she realized. Warm and dry and empty. She had a body, and it was tired. But inside the body was a void. Her voice was surprisingly strong when she spoke again. Both men responded to it.

"I don't know where I am." Beneath the doctor's hand her pulse jerked once, then settled. "I don't know who I am."

"You've been through a great deal, my dear." The doctor spoke soothingly while his brain raced ahead. Specialists, he thought. If she didn't regain her memory in twenty-four hours, he'd need the best.

"You remember nothing?" The other man had straightened at her words. Now, with his ramrod stance, his sleep-starved eyes direct, he looked down at her.

Confused and fighting back fear, she started to push herself up, and the doctor murmured and settled her back against the pillows. She remembered…running, the storm, the dark. Lights coming up in front of her. Closing her eyes tight, she struggled for composure without knowing why it was so important to retain it. Her voice was still strong, but achingly hollow when she opened them again. "I don't know who I am. Tell me."

"After you've rested a bit more," the doctor began. The other man cut him off with no more than a look. And the look, she saw at a glance, was both arrogant and commanding.

"You're my daughter," he said. Taking her hand again, he held it firmly. Even the light trembling had stopped. "You are Her Serene Highness Gabriella de Cordina."

Nightmare or fairy tale? she wondered as she stared up at him. Her father? Her Serene Highness? Cordina… She thought she recognized the name and clung to it, but what was this talk of royalty? Even as she began to dismiss it, she watched his face. This man wouldn't lie. His face was passive, but his eyes were so full of emotion she was drawn to them even without memory.

"If I'm a princess," she began, and the dry reserve in her voice caused a flicker of emotion to pass over his face briefly. Amusement? she wondered. "Does that make you a king?"

He nearly smiled. Perhaps the trauma had confused her memory, but she was still his Brie. "Cordina is a principality. I am Prince Armand. You're my eldest child. You have two brothers, Alexander and Bennett."

Father and brothers. Family, roots. Nothing stirred. "And my mother?"

This time she read the expression easily: pain. "She died when you were twenty. Since then you've been my official hostess, taking on her duties along with your own. Brie." His tone softened from the formal and dispassionate. "We call you 'Brie.'" He turned her hand up so that the cluster of sapphires and diamonds on her right hand glimmered toward her. "I gave you this on your twenty-first birthday, nearly four years ago."

She looked at it, and at the strong, beautiful hand that held hers. She remembered nothing. But she felt—trust. When she lifted her eyes again, she managed a half smile. "You have excellent taste, Your Highness."

He smiled, but she thought he was perilously close to weeping. As close as she. "Please," she began for both their sakes. "I'm very tired."

"Yes, indeed." The doctor patted her hand as he had, though she didn't know it, since the day she'd been born. "For now, rest is the very best medicine."

Reluctantly Prince Armand released his daughter's hand. "I'll be close."

Her strength was already beginning to ebb. "Thank you." She heard the door close, but sensed the doctor hovering. "Am I who he says I am?"

"No one knows better than I." He touched her cheek, more from affection than the need to check her temperature. "I delivered you. Twenty-five years ago in July. Rest now, Your Highness. Just rest."

Prince Armand strode down the corridor in his quick, trained gait, as a member of the Royal Guard followed two paces behind. He wanted to be alone. God, how he wanted five minutes to himself in some closed-off room. There he could let go of some of the tension, some of the emotion that pulled at him. His daughter, his treasure, had nearly been lost to him. Now that he had her back, she looked at him as though he were a stranger.

When he found who—Armand dismissed the thought. It was for later. He promised himself that.

In the spacious, sun-splashed waiting room were three more Royal Guards and several members of Cordina's police department. Pacing, smoking, was his son and heir, Alexander. He had his father's dark, clean-lined looks and military bearing. He did not, as yet, have his father's meticulous control.

Like a volcano, Armand thought, looking at the twenty-three-year-old prince, that simmers and bubbles, but doesn't quite erupt.

Sprawled across a plush, rose-colored sofa was Bennett. At twenty he...

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Verlag
Silhouette
Erscheinungsdatum
2011
Sprache
Englisch
ISBN 10 
0373281544
ISBN 13 
9780373281541
Einband
Taschenbuch
Anzahl der Seiten
480
Kontakt zum Hersteller
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Verantwortliche Person
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