Melody Anne - Scorched

“That’s not a solution, Rachel. I’ve told you that I can’t abandon my child,” he said as he sat down on her bed.

Not good at all. Having him there was calling up all sorts of wrong images in Rachel’s head. She cursed at herself for feeling any desire for him. Why did she have to go through this every time he came close to her?

As she stared at him in his harem-inspired room, he looked more like a king than ever before. How had there ever been a time she’d thought him just a simple man? Even in Florida, he’d exhibited a grace no regular man could possess.

That’s why she’d been so attracted to him. Now, however, it was a thorn for her to deal with. OK, so she was drawn toward the wrong sort of man — obviously — but that was something she was determined to fix about herself.

“Look, Adriane, I’m not princess material. I’m just a woman — a woman who has lived a good life, with great parents. I don’t want to be responsible for a kingdom. I don’t want people to watch me beneath a microscope. If I feel like wearing workout clothes, eating ice cream all day, and not putting on makeup, then I want to do that. I don’t want to be all over the media, to have to think about every decision I make, to be worried that I may embarrass your country. I just want to be me,” Rachel said as she sank down beside him on the bed. Maybe she could make him see reason.

“It’s too late for that, Rachel. And you don’t have to worry. You won’t be a princess,” he assured her.

“I wouldn’t?” she asked, now confused. She thought that by marrying him, she would automatically become royalty, not that she knew much about it.

“No. You will be queen.”

Her stomach dropped.

“Yeah, that doesn’t help,” she said, her lips turning up the slightest bit. “If that was your attempt at humor, you need to practice a little more.”

Adriane’s gut clenched at her smile. She was so unbelievably beautiful. She also had strength, and that would make her a fine queen. Now, it was his job to convince her of such.

“You need not worry about royal protocol. We have teachers here who will guide you, instruct you in everything you need to know. In addition to the usual ceremonial duties, the queen normally does a lot of charity work and assures the people they are cared for. My mother is waiting to meet you, anxious to see whom I have chosen as my bride. She wasn’t from our country, either, and she looks forward to having an American daughter-in-law. I think the two of you will become very close.”

Rachel hadn’t even thought about his mother. A new fear filled her. She wasn’t cut out for any of this.

“Wouldn’t she remain queen even after you are married?”

“No. That isn’t how it works. She is the queen mother, and doing the duties you will perform until our wedding takes place.”

“Isn’t she upset about this? About having to give up her crown?”

“Not at all. She’s ready for the next generation to come in. Besides, you won’t replace her; you’ll assist her in projects she’s already started. However, she will get a little more freedom, be able to take more vacations and also be able to take some time to grieve the loss of her husband. She may even take some days to go without makeup,” he added with a grin.

His joke fell flat. She was in full panic mode now. It was obvious he didn’t want to let her go, but Rachel couldn’t do this, couldn’t be a queen. It was too much.

“Adriane, there is another solution; I know there is.”

“There’s not, Rachel. Being with me won’t be the hardship you think it is. I will take very good care of you,” he assured her.

“Look, no one knows about me yet, well, no one except your adviser and doctor. I won’t go to the media. Not a soul will know. Why don’t you just find a proper bride who will be more than happy to give you all kinds of heirs for your kingdom, and let me go and live in peace?”

Adriane looked at her for several heartbeats without saying a word. Then he stood and began pacing in front of her. Maybe he was considering it.

“Do you think so poorly of me that you believe I would be able to do something like that? What kind of man can walk away from his child? Even if I weren’t the king, I wouldn’t let you leave, Rachel.”

He stepped back over to the bed, stood in front of her before kneeling down. Lifting both his hands, he first placed them on her hips and then used them to cover her stomach. “This is my baby, too. Yes, you carry him, but he is mine, and I will be there for your pregnancy, his birth, and then for the rest of his life.”

The intensity of his expression left her unsure what to do or say next. The feel of his hands cradling her stomach made tears spring to her eyes.

She was in trouble. Serious trouble.

“You can’t force me to the altar, Adriane. I won’t walk down it willingly and I won’t agree to wed you. When the priest asks whether anyone protests, it will be me raising my hand. Won’t that cause more of a scandal for you?”

Adriane smiled as he continued to caress her stomach, then leaned forward and pressed a kiss on her belly. “I’m not worried. You will agree. It’s already been arranged.”

With that, he stood, and he looked down at her with such confidence, she felt her own convictions waver. Was he going to get his way, no matter what she wanted?

“You can’t take away my free will!” She stood as she began pacing the room. Obviously, reason hadn’t worked with him, either. The man was an impenetrable wall.

He caught her quickly and held her close, his hands moving down her back, stroking her tight muscles, and though he was the one causing her turmoil, he was also the one comforting her. It made no sense.

“This will happen. No matter where you run to, I will find you and bring you back. No matter how much you deny this, it’s the right thing. Our child deserves a mother and a father. It’s a bonus that we are so compatible, because it will make the long nights we have together very enjoyable.”

He leaned down and kissed her, as if sealing their fates.

Maybe he was right. Maybe she would fall at his feet. She wasn’t sure about anything anymore.

Shots rang out from every direction, deafening and deadly. The enemy was determined to leave no survivors.

Shane Grayson was just as determined to disappoint them.

“Stay down!” he shouted at his men.

The radicals were firing from the side, not very organized in their strategy but still managing to make it damn hard for Shane’s group to reach its target. Worry wasn’t at the forefront of the soldiers’ minds yet, but they were cautious, always cautious when dealing with extremists like this who had nothing to lose.

“I’m going in for the hostage. Cover me,” Shane said, before getting ready to storm the warehouse.

“I’m coming with you,” River insisted.

Shane knew there would be no arguing with his teammate, so he simply nodded.

“We’ve got your back. Let’s fry these assholes,” Paul said.

Shane took off with River on his flank, staying behind anything they could as they approached the target. Men were hanging from the windows of the large warehouse, and his men easily picked them off as he and River moved forward.

“To your left,” River said and Shane spun around, firing his automatic, taking out two men with their weapons aimed.

“I don’t think they’re too happy with our arrival,” Shane said.

The two men made it to the building, both of them talking quietly through their mouthpieces, looking about for the next enemy band lying in wait.

“Yeah, and they’re going to be really pissed soon, when they no longer have a leader,” River said.

Yes, the situation was intense, but they’d been through worse. Every mission had the possibility of going bad in so many ways. The worst would happen if they grew too confident, let their guard down.

They went silent as they searched the building, peering down and through the aisles of merchandise, and hoping like hell that they reached the hostage while she was still in one piece. The extremists were trying to free their leader and had announced that the girl, a diplomat’s daughter, would be killed that day if their demands weren’t met.

Shane’s team was there to effect her release without giving the enemy a damn thing.

Shane and River made it to the back of the building, where they had good reason to believe that the young girl was being held. They stayed hidden behind a pile of industrial crates while they discussed their next maneuver.

“Shit!” Shane exclaimed when he saw about ten men all packing weapons with the girl tied to a chair in the corner — behind them, and looking terrified.

“You go right. I’ll distract them,” River said. Shane nodded, and River got into position, popping up and shooting the man up on a catwalk overlooking the warehouse floor.

The men in the back of the room erupted as they began firing their weapons toward River and the crates he was using as protection. River kept moving, staying under cover as he shot. Soon, the radicals were running around, not paying attention where they were firing, and one of them killed one of his own men.

Good; let them take each other out, Shane thought.

Rushing forward, he kept behind a wall as he aimed and began picking them off, one by one, careful not to hit the sobbing girl. A round from one of the enemy guns hit the wall two feet above her head, making Shane’s heart race. She was in a dangerous position right now, and he needed to get to her.

“River, you need to get them to chase you so I can extract her,” he said into his mic.