Nina Bruhns - Capturing the Crown Bundle

Hearing her own words, she winced. She hadn’t meant to reveal so much to this employee of Silvershire’s royal family.

“I still think the attack was because you’re carrying Reginald’s baby.”

“Why would that matter? Reginald and I were not married. My child,” she swallowed, forcing herself to say the hateful words, “is illegitimate.” Like her. “A bastard child can never be heir. Believe me, I should know that better than anyone.”

“True, but the playing field has changed. The prince is dead. Your child is the last of the royal bloodline.”

“I care little about that. Being a princess has only brought me discomfort and unwanted attention.”

“Unwanted?” He still watched her closely. “Is that why you haven’t gone to the newspapers or granted a television interview?”

He sounded incredulous, but then he was in public relations. Nothing would be more important to him than the press.

She couldn’t tell him she didn’t want to be like her own mother, who seemed to spend much of her life courting reporters, while Sydney had been, until Reginald, able to skirt the edges of their radar. She’d like to return to her former quiet life, if possible. “I’d prefer to avoid notoriety.”

His incredulous expression told her he didn’t believe her. “You’re saying you’d actually shun the limelight? You’re an illegitimate princess who’s been largely overlooked. Until now. I know how this works. You’ll bask in your fifteen minutes of fame, just like anyone else.”

Like any other groupie, he meant. As her mother had been. Still was, as far as she knew. Sydney no longer spoke to her mother. “I repeat, I’d prefer a quiet life.”

“You could make a lot of money exploiting this.”

“I have plenty of money,” she said stiffly. “My sire set up a trust fund for me. And, as I’m sure you know, I play cello with the Naessa Royal Symphony.”

“True, but now you’ll have a child to support. One can always use more money.”

She looked out the window instead of attempting to dignify his comments with a response. They’d flown into dark clouds. Lightning flashed to the west, and rain splattered the jet’s windows.

Inhaling, exhaling, she willed herself calm. Years of yoga, breathing exercises and even hypnosis had helped conquer her unreasonable terror of storms.

The jet banked sharply to the right.

An involuntary gasp escaped her.

Chase smiled reassuringly. “Don’t worry. I think it’s just one of those sudden spring thunderstorms. If it had been forecast, we wouldn’t have flown anywhere near it. I’m sure we’ll go around. Franco’s flown this jet a hundred times or more, and Dell’s been his copilot for years.”

Before he finished speaking, the jet dropped, a rapid bounce, pushing Sydney up and against the confines of her seat belt before she bounced back. “What the—?”

“Turbulence.”

Since Chase’s implacable face showed no signs of alarm, Sydney took his words at face value. His very serenity was soothing, though she found herself wondering if the man was ever alarmed at anything.

The rain began to pound them. Thunder boomed. Lightning flashed stronger and more often. It looked as though they’d flown right into the middle of the worst part of the storm.

“I thought you said he’d take us around?”

“I’m sure he’s trying. We’re climbing, can’t you feel it? This must be a large storm, so he’s probably trying to get above it instead of going around.”

All logical and competent-sounding. Still, Sydney’s gut instinct was sounding multiple alarms. Her absolute fear of storms came roaring back, intensified by the fact she was being tossed around in a small jet.

She took a deep, shaky breath. “It’s green outside.”

For the first time, Chase frowned. “That’s not good.”

Her stomach plummeted. Was that the understatement of the year? She gripped her seat, closed her eyes, and muttered a prayer. When she opened her eyes, she immediately looked to Chase. He watched her intently.

“You’re absolutely terrified.” He sounded surprised.

Wordless with fear, she jerked her head in a nod.

“It’s going to be all right. Look.” He pointed out the window. “We’re still climbing. Soon we should be above the storm.”

Even as he spoke, the first hail hit them. Small, round balls of ice began battering the wings. Next came what sounded like a series of pops in rapid succession. Outside, the ice balls grew larger, more numerous, pummeling the wings. The jet veered left, then right.

“We’ve got to give Franco and Dell credit.” Admiration sounded in Chase’s clear tone. “They’re still climbing.”

The air outside her window became all ice balls, so many it appeared to be a blizzard of ice.

Bam. Sydney jumped, gripping the sides of her seat so tightly her hands ached. “That sounded like a small explosion.” She’d barely finished the words when the jet plummeted again. Muttering another quick prayer under her breath, she bit her lip to stifle a scream, unable to resist glancing at Chase for reassurance.

Though expressionless, the tight set of his jaw told her he was worried, too.

The dive lasted longer this time. It seemed, she thought, fighting the first edges of panic, to go on forever.

Were they about to crash into the ocean? Or worse, into the mountainous edge of Silvershire? She had no idea where they were or what might be below them.

Then again, if they crashed at this speed, what they hit wouldn’t really matter.

Finally the plane leveled.

Sydney exhaled in relief.

“Despite his attempt to climb, I think we’ve lost a lot of altitude.” Chase sounded calm, matter-of-fact, as though none of this worried him. “I’d better go talk to Franco.” He pushed himself out of his seat and the plane lurched, then took another violent drop.

He lost his balance and stumbled toward Sydney.

Wide-eyed, she reacted instinctively, throwing up her arms. He stopped with his face inches from her breasts.

God help her, she could feel her face heating.

Slowly, he raised his head to meet her gaze. She could have sworn she saw a flicker of amusement in his hazel eyes before he climbed back to his feet. “My apologies.”

Tongue-tied, she dipped her head in acknowledgment.

“Wait here,” he ordered, making his way to the cockpit.

As if she planned on going anywhere! She grimaced as the jet pitched and bobbed. If she had a parachute, she’d definitely consider jumping. She flexed her shoulders, feeling tension knots as she stared at the closed cockpit door.

A moment later, Chase returned. His expression looked even grimmer, if such a thing was possible.

She straightened, her aches forgotten. “What? What’s wrong?”

“Not good. We’ve lost an engine. The hail must have damaged it.”

Her heart stopped. “What now?”

“Franco and Dell are good. They’re searching for a place to make an emergency landing. They’ll get us down safely.”

“With one engine?”

“Yes. We’ll be fine.”

Swallowing, she pushed back her panic. She’d traveled a lot with the symphony, and knew this wasn’t great, but it wasn’t lethal.

Thunder boomed again, so loudly the jet shook. A jagged bolt of lightning flashed so close she wondered how it had missed them. Though the hail had tapered off and was mixed with driving rain, the storm’s fury scared her almost as much as the possibility of crashing.

“Talk to me.” Not caring that her desperation showed in her voice, she touched his arm. “I need a distraction.”

Another man might have made light of her fear. But Chase took one look at her and nodded. “Tell me about your family.”