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PRINCESS FOR SALE
By
Christina Carlisle
© copyright May 2007, by Christina Carlisle
Cover Art by Jenny Dixon
New Concepts Publishing
Lake Park, GA 31636
www.newconceptspublishing.com
CHAPTER ONE
"Excuse me?"
Jack Lucas grunted at the sound of a far off voice as he again twisted the stubborn bolt with his wrench.
"Hey, you. Excuse me."
The woman's voice was closer this time and he jerked his head, swearing as he hit the heavy mast above him.
"What!" he shouted. Who the hell was intruding on his peaceful afternoon, hindering his tinkering on his favorite old fishing boat? This time was sacrosanct. Everyone in the Bay knew that.
"I want to hire your boat," the soft, but demanding voice continued.
"She's not for hire and neither am I," Jack replied, picking up the wrench. He was going to loosen this bloody bolt if it took all day.
"I'll pay you whatever you want."
The woman was insistent, he'd give her that. Curiosity got the better of him and, cautiously avoiding the painful mast, he lifted his head to stare up at this annoying person standing on the quay side. Rather, his eyes were drawn to slender feet and ankles encased in impossibly high-heeled sandals.
Following the lines of her curvaceous legs and elegant thighs, Jack was treated to a glimpse of lacy cream panties before the sweep of a swirling blue skirt obscured his view. A tiny waist and rounded breasts pressing against a matching blue top were accentuated by the slender arms folded firmly in front of her.
Jack narrowed his eyes against the sun to stare into the heart-shaped face of the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. To complete the vision, her porcelain skin was protected from the sun by a large, cream-colored hat.
He'd hardly recovered from the impact, which felt as if he had been punched very hard in the solar plexus, when she spoke again.
"Did you hear?" Her tone was imperious as she looked down her proud nose at him.
Rubbing an oil-streaked hand across his jaw and enjoying the feel of the rough bristles from his week-old beard, Jack decided his position on the deck of the boat several feet below her definitely placed him at a disadvantage. Who the hell did this woman think she was? She looked as if she had stepped from the pages of a top fashion magazine. That was it. She was some sort of model.
"I need to get to Seagull Island," she went on. "I've been told you will take me."
"Who told you?" Jack threw the wrench down with a clatter and, grasping the rope ladder hanging from the edge of the wharf, he pulled himself up so he was standing in front of her. This was interesting -- very interesting.
"The taxi driver who brought me here from the Harcourt Hotel. He said you were the best sailor in Port Margaret."
"I'm a fisherman," Jack replied, cursing Joe Davis under his breath. What was he playing at dumping this model doll on him?
She was shorter than he'd thought, the top of her head not quite reaching his chin. But, boy! She was even more beautiful up close. Her complexion was flawless with only light make-up and a smear of lip gloss. Her huge eyes were a brilliant green, but as he peered more closely at her, she turned away, glancing worriedly behind her. Just what was this young woman up to? Escaping from a possessive boyfriend? Or husband? Something wasn't quite right. He glanced at the five matching suit cases surrounding her.
"I don't care what you are," she said. "I've asked that you take me. How much do you want?"
"Why do you want to go there?" Jack's curiosity was now very much aroused.
She glanced over her shoulder again before replying. "I've rented a holiday home on the island, and I'd like to get there before dark," she added, her voice rising slightly, whether from frustration or some sort of odd desperation, Jack wasn't sure.
Opening her handbag, she thrust a bundle of notes at him. "I'll pay you five hundred dollars if you'll take me. I'm sure someone like you won't refuse that."
Jack prided himself on being a pretty calm sort of guy but an unusual surge of anger flowed through him at the high-handedness of this young woman standing before him, her feet shifting restlessly on the stone pavers.
Reaching out a large, dirty hand, Jack took the money and stuffed it in his trouser pocket not bothering to count it. This lady definitely needed to be taught a lesson in good manners.
"Okay. I'll take you, Miss." He gave an exaggerated bow of his head and bent to pick up two of her cases. "Are all of these cases to go?"
"Yes."
"Have you got food with you?"
"No. I'll buy it there. I gather there's a shop on the island."
Jack nodded again. Swiftly, he loaded the cases on to the deck of the boat and then looked up at her. "Be careful climbing down with those shoes on," he said, watching her anxious expression as she turned and began a perilous descent to the deck. The rope ladder suddenly swung precariously and the girl gave a startled yelp as her knuckles grazed against the rough stone wall.
"Here, I'll help you." Jack's reaction was instinctive as he placed his hands on her skirt feeling the curves of her deliciously rounded bottom beneath his fingers as he guided her.
Even with Jack's support she landed awkwardly on the wooden deck. A loud crack caused them both to look down as one of the delicate heels of her shoes snapped. Bending, she removed the shoe, holding it aloft as she examined it.
"That's bad luck," Jack remarked, feeling he needed to say something to fill the ominous silence. As she bent again to remove the other shoe, his jaw dropped as he saw the clear imprint of his two oil-streaked hands marking the pale blue material of her skirt.
He hesitated. Should he say something? After all, it was hardly his fault but -- wow! It looked funny! As the girl turned to face him, he managed to suppress his laughter.
"Ah, Miss. I think I should tell you that you've got a couple of dirty marks on your…your skirt." Phew! He'd got that out of the way.
The girl twisted from side to side in an endeavor to view the damage. Touching one of the marks, she held up her hand now smeared with engine oil.
This time Jack couldn't contain his mirth and burst out laughing. "I'm sorry, but you are in a bit of a mess, aren't you," he grinned, reaching in to his pocket for a handkerchief to wipe her hand. They both stared at the filthy cloth he produced, which was the one he had used earlier to wipe the engine.
"I'll change my clothes, if you show me where," the girl said coolly.
She had a slight foreign accent and Jack couldn't quite pick it. French? German? He studied her face. Her eyes were downcast and he realized that not once had she looked directly at him. She showed no change of expression at these sudden calamities but wore the same proud look. He wondered for a moment whether he should kneel and kiss those delicate little feet with their shell-pink colored toe nails. Perhaps that would bring a smile to her face?
"You can change in the cabin. Its not very big but will suffice. By the way, my name's Jack."
The girl examined the cases and then picking one and, lifting it, threw him an almost embarrassed look. "Mine's Lara," she replied, before carefully picking her way in her bare feet down the few stairs into the boat's cabin.
Jack shrugged and, turning away, began to prepare the boat to sail. He lovingly patted the safety rail. "Well, Jezebel, are you ready for an adventure?" he asked softly. "I know you haven't been feeling the best so I'll understand if you don't want to go too far." He half expected the old boat to reply, after all, they'd been together since Jack was a teenager and he knew all her moods and how to handle them. She could be as temperamental as any woman and Jack enjoyed the many challenges that Jezebel flung at him as her age forced her to rebel at various times. And this could be one trip that they would both enjoy.
With a sigh of relief, Lara sat on the hard wooden bench in the tiny cabin, pulling off her sun hat and placing it on the rickety table in front of her.
She had made it. She was free! A feeling of exhilaration swept over her as she listened to the man -- Jack, moving around on the deck above her. Soon she would be alone on her island paradise left to ponder her future, if only for a few days. But it was enough time. It had to be. Enough time to give her the breathing space she so desperately craved. The space she needed to consider the demands about to be thrust upon her because of her royal birthright.
Of course, she would need to let her parents know where she was and that she was safe so that Mark, the detective assigned to guard her, wouldn't be blamed because she had given him the slip.
Lara jumped as the engine spluttered into life and settled into a comfortable drone. As she felt the movement of the vessel slowly drawing away from the wharf, Lara relaxed. Placing her case on to the table, she opened it and rummaged through the clothes, pulling out a pair of dark brown slacks, a lacy beige top and her favorite sneakers. While keeping a wary eye on the stairs leading to the deck, she hurriedly changed, grimacing as she placed the stained skirt into a plastic bag and packed it on top of the other clothes.
Glancing around, she wrinkled her nose in distaste at the sight of the tiny sink full of dirty dishes. A half eaten can of baked beans sat on the counter top along with a carton of milk and a jar of coffee. A small stove was piled high with used saucepans and a heavy iron fry pan. What a mess! In one corner of the cabin was a long, narrow bunk covered with a shabby tartan blanket. Still, it wasn't her business how this man lived and she had been unbelievably rude to him demanding that he take her to the island. She would apologize profusely, but she had been so desperate in case Mark had found her and tried to put a stop to her plans. Still, it didn't excuse the way she had spoken to the tall, lanky sailor covered in grime.
Her lips twitched with amusement as she thought of Jack's hand prints on her skirt, a perfect outline of her bottom, and his hesitation in telling her what had happened. She smiled broadly. Time to say sorry and explain that I'm not usually so nasty, she decided.
When she climbed on to the deck, the evening sun was still hot and she frowned as she realized she had left her protective hat in the cabin. Jack was at the wheel of the vessel carefully maneuvering it through the various craft already moored for the night to come. Looking back, Lara could see the wharf and the outline of Port Margaret rapidly disappearing into the distance. The water was a little choppier now they were clearing the shelter of the harbor but Lara didn't mind. The sun and the wind added to her feeling of euphoria on being free.
She carefully made her way along the narrow deck towards Jack, intent on apologizing for her behavior. Before she could speak however, Jack thrust a plastic bag at her with one hand, while continuing to guide the boat with the other.
"Put that on." His tone was commanding.
"What is it?"
"A life jacket."
"I don't need a life jacket. I can swim."
"Put it on. That's an order. While I'm in charge of this boat, I'm in charge of your safety."
Jack turned to face her and Lara was exposed to extraordinary blue eyes as she fully studied his face. She blinked at the impact. They were so intense – the same deep, beautiful color of the sea. She focused on his high forehead, straight nose and angular cheek bones. His hair was dark and long, touching the nape of his neck and as for his bristly black beard -- well, he looked like a pirate of the high seas. He had washed his face and hands and changed into a sleeveless blue shirt, which the wind molded against his chest. His tanned arms and hands were muscular and strong as they lightly guided the wheel.
Lara could feel a blush like hot fire running under her skin as Jack returned her stare. Confused at these unknown feelings, she looked down at the bag she was holding.
"Do you know how to put it on?" Jack continued.
"No. But, why should I wear one? You're not."
"I'm used to Jezebel. You haven't got your sea legs and could easily fall over board and become a tasty shark dinner."
Lara shuddered and then decided she couldn't let that gem of information go unchallenged. "If a shark wants to eat me, it won't care if I'm wearing a life jacket or not."
Jack sighed. "Are you usually this argumentative?" he asked, turning to her again. Without waiting for a reply, he said "Look, I'll put my jacket on if you do the same. Satisfied?"
Nodding, Lara unpacked the bag and, pulling out the bright yellow jacket, placed it over her head. Puzzled, she studied the number of ties hanging from the jacket and tried to pull them together.
"You've got it on back to front." Jack laughed at her bewilderment. "Here, hold the wheel steady and I'll sort it out for you."
Lara stepped closer and tentatively grasped the steering wheel with one hand. Jack moved in front of her, turning the jacket around and lacing the ties through mysterious loops, all the time explaining what he was doing.
"There. Now you're okay," he said, bending to tie a bow on her slender hips.
Lara looked down at his bent head. His hair was thick and wavy as it blew in the breeze and she had a sudden longing to touch it -- to feel the texture under her fingers. To caress it. Shocked at her wayward thoughts, she turned away, placing both hands on the wheel.
"You had better put on your jacket," she said, annoyed at the slight quiver in her voice. "I'll drive the boat."
"You steer a boat and her name is Jezebel," Jack responded, reaching for his life jacket on the deck behind him and quickly putting it on.
Lara stepped to one side as Jack took over the wheel.
"It seems a big fuss about nothing," she said, more to hide the strange feelings this fisherman had evoked than anything. "How long before we reach the island?"
"About thirty minutes. That's still long enough for accidents to occur. It's also long enough to get burnt by the sun and wind," Jack added, his blue glance taking in her pale features.
"I've got sun block cream with me."
"Then go and put some on -- and your hat."
Lara hesitated. "You're so bossy." She gasped as she blurted the words.
To her surprise, Jack threw back his head and laughed, a rich, glorious sound. "So are you, lady. So are you," he repeated and was still laughing as she made her way to the cabin.
Managing to retrieve her tube of sun block and her mobile phone, Lara tied on her sun hat and made her way to the back of the boat, well away from Jack. Rude man! She had been going to apologize but perhaps she would re-think that now. Besides, they would be at the island shortly and she would never see him again.
She soothed the protective cream on to her exposed skin, knowing from her years spent in Australia that her fair skin would easily burn. Lifting a hand, she removed her hat and pulled the clasp from her flaxen blonde hair, releasing it from its smart chignon so it cascaded on to her shoulders. That felt better. She was starting to feel in holiday mood, but first she had to let her parents know where she was.
Pressing a button on her mobile, she waited for the international connection putting her directly through to the palace.
"May I speak with Queen Francesca, please?" she asked, automatically speaking in her own language. "This is Princess Lara here."
The next moment she was speaking to her mother thousands of miles away in the tiny principality of Challoner in Northern Europe.
"Lara, darling, how are you? What's that strange noise I can hear? Are you phoning from the university?"
"Hello, Mummy. The noise is from this ship that I'm on. I've decided to spend a few days at a holiday resort off the South Australian coast."
There was silence for several seconds and then her mother continued. "That sounds lovely, Lara. Are Jade and Kate with you?"
Lara swallowed. Here comes the awkward part. It was natural for her mother to think that her best friends would be with her. They had spent so many holidays together. "No. Jade has gone to work in Alice Springs in the Northern Territory and Kate has a job with a big winery here."
"Well, at least Mark is with you."
Lara rushed the next few words. "Mummy, actually I'm on my own. I just want a few days in the sun relaxing and reading without anyone around. No detectives, no maids -- in fact, no minders."
"Do you think that's wise, dear? Where exactly are you staying? Will you be safe?"
"I have rented a lovely, secure holiday home on the beach. There are lots of people on the island, plus some good shops. I'll be fine." Lara paused before plowing on.
"I just need a few days before I fly home next week, Mummy. It's been a tiring year at Uni and this is my little treat for me. I hope that you and father don't mind."
The Queen's voice softened and Lara had to strain to hear her against the wind. "Lara, I understand better than you think. I know only too well what its like to be constantly in the public eye. The King and I have granted your wish to attend boarding school and University in Australia…."
"I know." Lara broke in, having heard her mother's lecture many times before.
"But, it has always been on the proviso that you will come home and take up your royal duties along side of your brother," her mother continued hardly missing a beat.
"I appreciate everything, Mummy."
"So, have your days of freedom if you must, with your father and my blessings and love. I will arrange for your detective to be informed and I will expect to hear from you in a few days."
"Thank you. I love you both."
The phone call ended and Lara felt her spirits soar. Her mother knew how she felt. Lara's eyes welled with tears as she thought of her parents and her brother Carl, the Crown Prince. She was fortunate in so many ways to be part of a monarchy with centuries of history, which could still allow her the freedom of this modern world. Sure, she'd worked hard to persuade her parents that she should be educated in Australia and enjoy the comparative privacy in the cosmopolitan nation. But always there was a detective lurking in the background on constant alert for any dangers to Lara -- any signs of kidnapping, or worse.
Even her best friends Jade and Kate, had been startled at what they considered her strange need for isolation. She smiled as she thought of them. Friends since boarding school and then at University, they called themselves the three princesses with Jade and Kate teasing Lara, who was the only one of them with royal blood. But they had all felt like princesses and had given each other their love and loyalty through good and bad times as they had often struggled with studies and personal dilemmas. Now sadly they had parted, each to face the world in their own way but with promises to keep in contact no matter what.
Only it was Lara who wasn't prepared for the future. She was the one who was hesitating, knowing a life lay before her as Princess Lara Antoinette Rosalina of Challoner. A life of royal protocols and the expectation to marry a man of acceptable standing and breeding. Her mother had already suggested that on her return she consider marriage to Prince Michael, a distant relative and long-time suitor.
Leaning against the rail, Lara watched as they came close to a small island. It was covered with trees and dense foliage and lying in the azure sea like a sparkling jewel. Surely this wasn't Seagull Island? She couldn't see any houses or signs of life.
Suddenly Jezebel's engine popped and snorted and then died as the boat gradually came to a stop. There was silence except for the sound of the small waves slapping against the bow.
"What's happened?" she called, making her way towards the front of the boat as Jack loosened a huge chain, allowing the anchor to roll with a splash into the water.
"Jezebel's conked out. She does it sometimes," Jack replied calmly.
"But…but, what are we going to do? Can you fix it?"
"I'll try but the sun's beginning to go down and it'll be dark soon."
"We can't stay out here all night. You must do something."
"I'll have a look to see if I can fix it. Why don't you make us a cup of coffee?" he suggested a look of innocence on his face as he took control of this outspoken young woman.
"I'm not going into that dirty kitchen. It's disgusting."
"It's called a galley and I'm sure you can overcome your sensitivities if you want me to get Jezebel going again."
Lara glared at him as she disappeared into the galley.
Jack grinned. Jezebel had chosen to break down right opposite his island as if she knew she was coming home. He tried to start the engine a couple of times, but Jezebel refused to cooperate and was obviously in need of some serious nurturing from her owner. Shrugging, Jack made a quick call on the ship radio connecting with his mate on the shore, Dave Shelton and explained what had happened.
"Dave, can you ring Seagull Island and tell them the lady with the rental won't be there tonight?" He heard Dave's agreement before the radio gave an ominous crackle and went dead.
Well, that was that. Jack sat on his favorite chair and propped his feet on the rail. He guessed it wouldn't hurt for Miss High and Mighty to rough it for a night. "Good girl, Jezebel," he mouthed, as the clatter of pots and pans resounded from below deck.
It was a good twenty minutes before he heard Lara's feet on the stairs and quickly stood up pretending to wipe his brow with a towel in mock exasperation. Lara emerged carrying a steaming mug of coffee, which she pushed unceremoniously into Jack's waiting hands.
"Any luck?"
"Nope."
"Can you radio for help?"
"That's conked out, as well."
"You can use my mobile."
"I don't think so."
"Why not? You're welcome to use it." Lara pulled it from her pocket and then gaped at it. "There's no signal."
"I know. We're out of range. You won't be able to use your mobile from now on."
He felt his heart soften at the stricken expression on Lara's face and suddenly realized that she was frightened. Of course she would be, he thought. Stuck out here with a strange man who might just take advantage of her.
He took a sip of coffee. "Look, it will be dusk in about thirty minutes. Here's what I suggest we do." He nodded towards the island. "I've got a holiday home over there. We can row over in the dinghy and stay there for the night. At least we can have a shower and there are beds to sleep in. Then in the morning I'll get Jezebel started and we'll be on our way."
"Are there other houses on the island -- other people?"
"No. But I have provisions that I keep there. Also, there will be hot water and cool drinks as soon as I get the generator going."
He held her gaze as green eyes probed his in the fading light. He knew she was considering whether she could trust him. He wondered if he could trust himself. She was gorgeous, her hair a blonde cloud around her heart-shaped face and her eyes huge as she studied him.
"All right," she agreed. "There doesn't seem much else we can do. I'll pay you extra money for the use of your home."
Jack didn't answer as he threw the dregs of his coffee overboard. Did everything have to come down to money with this woman? It was getting under his skin.
He gathered some items of clothing and toiletries from the cabin and, glancing at the galley, was surprised to find it spotless with all of the dishes and pans washed and neatly stacked on the shelves. Impressive! Jack had never seen Jezebel's galley so clean.
Lowering the dinghy into the water, he loaded one of Lara's cases on board after she had checked and re-packed what she needed. Jack then rowed them effortlessly across the short stretch of water to the shore.
Carrying her case, he led the way from the beach, through some trees and then stood back. With a dramatic wave of his arm, he indicated the cottage in the clearing wondering what Lara's reaction would be.
"There you go, Lara. Welcome to my luxurious holiday home."
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