Ransom for a Prince Read Online Free

princes could marry only princesses and vice versa. King Omar had practiced what he’d preached; he’d married the princess of a small European country lost during a civil war, and he’d brought her to reign over Barajas with him. If only their princess mother had listened to her father and married a prince instead of a mercenary…
    He needed to make this woman listen to him. “What you witnessed makes you my business.” That was the only reason for his interest in her.
    “I didn’t witness anything. I don’t want your reward. I just want to leave,” she said, her voice shaky with frustration and that fear she wasn’t able to conceal.
    “If you don’t want my money,” he said, carefully hiding his skepticism, “then how about my protection?”
    “Protection?” she asked, her eyes widening as she stared up at him.
    “Is that not why you didn’t come forward earlier—because you were too frightened?” And perhaps not just for her own safety but also for the child she might have, if that car seat belonged to her. From her reaction, he was almost certain that it did. So she had a child. But did she have a husband? He suspected not because if she had someone to protect her, she should not be so scared. “You need not be afraid.”
    She didn’t hold in her snort but expelled it softly.
    He lifted his chin, offended at her derision. He was a ruler—coruler—and a former military officer. How dare she doubt him and remind him of someone else in his life who always had? “I will protect you.”

    J ESSICA LAUGHED . She need not be afraid? She couldn’t remember a time when she hadn’t been afraid. “You can’t protect me.”
    No one could.
    “Have you already been threatened?” he asked, his voice deepening with concern. “Is that why you haven’t reported what you’ve seen?”
    She had other reasons for not reporting, like that relentless media coverage. Had any of those reporters followed them out? Had they caught her image on camera? Even before the explosion, the coverage of the COIN summit had been national—broadcast on every network to every city. She’d tried hard to avoid the cameras every time she came to town or went to the Wind River Ranch and Resort. Until today she was pretty positive she’d been successful.
    To see if the reporters had followed her like the prince had, she tried to look out the driver’s door, but she couldn’t see beyond him. He was too big. Too broad. Too close, so close that with every breath she drew, she inhaled him. He even smelled like a prince: regal and rich—musk and leather and a faint trace of citrus. His scent filled her lungs and had her heart pounding furiously. “I—I have to go.”
    “You’re not leaving until you tell me what you saw that night,” he ordered as if she were one of his subjects or his servants.
    She was certain that would be the only relationship he’d ever entertain with someone like her. He’d boss her around and bully her—just like…
    “I can’t stay!” she said, her panic escaping in a squeak that cracked her voice.
    Those reporters couldn’t have missed how he’d chased after her. Even though she couldn’t see beyond his broad shoulders, she was certain that they had followed him. They would have to follow the story. She shouldn’t have come here—shouldn’t have let his blue eyes persuade her to risk everything for him. To ease his fear for his friend, she’d confronted hers. Why?
    He was nothing more to her than a handsome stranger. And a stranger was all he could ever be.
    She tugged harder on the handle, but the door didn’t budge. He held tight to the edge of the rusted metal. With her right hand, she jammed the key in the ignition, and with a silent prayer that it would start the first time, she turned the motor. The engine miraculously roared to life, the Suburban shuddering from the high idle and the missing exhaust.
    “What are you doing?” the prince demanded, shouting to be heard over the