The Pirate Prince Read Online Free PDF

a middle-aged peasant woman nearby breathed, blessing herself with the sign of the cross as she stared up at him.
    “The legend!” whispered the guitar player, gaping at him as though he were the bloody Ark of the Covenant. “It’s true! He is—”
    “No,” Lazar said sharply.
    “But—”
    “You’re blind,” he said coldly to them. “Leave me alone.” He sheathed his sword and abandoned them, stalking off after his prey, heart pounding.
    He searched the thinning crowd, ignoring the hammering of his heart, refusing to consider how stripped he had felt by that old man’s mad-prophet stare and his idiotic remark. He looked nothing like Father. He was nothing like Father. He hadn’t a noble, self-sacrificing bone in his body, and he was damned glad of it.
    Stupid girl, he thought as he searched the crowd, angry now. Why the hell had she come waltzing out into this volatile crowd anyway? Where were her guards?
    He saw her by the fountain in the middle of the square and followed, intent on catching up to her quickly, for after that conversation by the fire he didn’t know what some of these radicals might dare.
    Watching her, he focused his unsettled mind on the loose, sure swing of her hips as she walked, until he caught himself wondering how those long legs would feel wrapped around his flanks, that ivory skin moist in a silken sweat beneath him, that gold-streaked chestnut hair spread out upon his pillow, spilling through his fingers—
    He thrust the images from his mind in self-disgust, unwilling to appreciate anything Monteverdi in origin.
    He quickened his stride, intent on his pursuit of her, but he was twenty paces behind her when she ran straight into the arms of a tall blond man.
    Lazar paused abruptly, arching one eyebrow. He sauntered toward the couple on a roundabout course, keeping to the shadows.
    At first the smartly dressed man seemed angry at her, gripping her by the arm above her elbow and using his considerable height to loom over her, but quickly Allegra pointed toward the fire, no doubt telling him all about the half-wild killer who was stalking her.
    Ah, her hero had come out to save her, he thought in dark amusement as he watched the blond man scan the crowd for him. Must be the fiancé . He knew about their betrothal, of course. He had done his research well for this night.
    He disliked Lord Domenic Clemente on sight, but when the blond man waved a few of the guards over and began dispensing orders, no doubt to find and arrest him , Lazar heaved an irritated sigh.
    All the while Miss Monteverdi hung close to her fiancé, watching the crowd fearfully as if she expected Lazar to leap out at her like a monster. When the soldier marched off to do his lordship’s bidding, Clemente laughed easily and drew his frightened bride into his arms, showering her with gallant reassurance.
    Curling his lip in disdain at the lovebirds, Lazar shot a glance out over the square, swiftly assembling his course of action. He noted that the soldier on the pawing black horse was not far away, then he looked back at the happy couple, scowling. The fiancé was leading her by the hand back alongside the palazzo—making off with his hostage.
    For what? he wondered. A lovers’ tryst?
    His eyes narrowed as he saw Clemente caress her back.
    All right, Miss Monteverdi, he thought, now you’ve annoyed me.
     
     
    “But Domenic, they’re enjoying themselves! There’s no need to clear the square,” she protested, wishing belatedly that she hadn’t told him, for he had instantly started managing things, as usual.
    Now, in her fright, overreacting to what was surely just her fervid imagination at work again, she had ruined the festival for everyone.
    “Nonsense. It’s past midnight. These people should go home,” Domenic replied matter-of-factly, tugging her by the hand like a child caught in mischief. He led her along the shadowy side of the palazzo, back toward the walled garden.
    She heaved a sigh but gave him