Once Upon a Mattress Read online

  Lord have mercy.

  It wasn’t the man’s size that stunned her, though the way he towered over the table said he was incredibly tall. And though the bench seat was built for two, no way could anybody else sit on it with him, not with the breadth of those shoulders.

  It wasn’t the blunt attractiveness of the stark, masculine face, with the slashing cheekbones and strong brow. Or the jutting, grizzled jaw—not bearded, yet his five o’clock shadow was going on midnight despite the earliness of the hour.

  It wasn’t the thick, nearly jet-black shaggy hair that brushed across the leather-jacket clad-shoulders.

  It wasn’t the powerful hands curled together on the table. Or the curve of the sensual lips. Or the aura of danger that seemed to roll off the man like heat off a bonfire.

  No. It was his eyes that got to her, leaving Penny speechless and confused. Dark, nearly-black eyes were focused entirely upon her, staring with utter concentration. They looked almost feral. But she didn’t feel threatened. In fact, for some strange reason, the word that popped into her mind when she noticed the way he watched her was claimed.

  It was a strange feeling, considering she had no one in this world who had a legitimate claim on her. She should know, she’d looked. She was totally without family. There was absolutely nobody who could, or would, ever call her theirs.

  Until him. The guy eating her alive with his stare, who looked like he expected her to accede to any demand he cared to make.

  Nobody makes demands of me. Requests? Okay. But not demands.

  She finally began to breathe again, to think again. But she couldn’t prevent a final, quick mental acknowledgement that she had never in her life experienced anything as jolting as this man’s possessive stare.

  She slowly stepped closer until she stood by his table, staring down into the fathomless depths of those inky eyes.

  He murmured, “And here you are.”

  Deep voice. Rough. Throaty. It scraped across her nerve endings and made her skin prickle. “What?”

  He shook his head, as if he hadn’t intended to speak. “Tell me you’re not the one they call Penny Mayfair,” he ordered.

  Swallowing, she admitted, “Sorry. That is my name.”

  His furrowed brow said he wasn’t pleased by the news. His muttered curse confirmed it.

  “What do you want?” she asked, forcing away all those crazy, gushy sensations that had awakened and begun to do somersaults across her most girly parts at the sight of him. Hearing his voice had turned those somersaults into gigantic loop-the-loops.

  No loop-the-looping with strangers. Got it?

  Hooking up with a guy she picked up in the diner would simply confirm peoples’ opinion that she was pure white trash. Besides, if there was one thing her wild, cross-country quest to find any member of her family had taught her, it was that the answers to her questions weren’t going to be found in the arms of some hot stranger.

  “This can’t be happening, not now, not you,” he muttered, staring at her hard, his dark eyes gleaming with something that verged on need.

  Wishful thinking.

  He spoke again, under his breath. “You can’t be the one.”

  Her annoyance rising, she snapped, “The one what?”

  He looked away, and she saw the way his pulse was pounding in his temple, as if he were undergoing some great internal struggle. Finally, he said, “You really are the princess?”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Shut up.”

  She had to get Callie to lay off the nickname. Her father had gotten away with it throughout her younger years, even though she had never played princess, seen a Disney movie or owned a frilly doll. She couldn’t recall ever believing in a happily-ever-after, or even reading a fairy tale in her childhood. So the princess thing had been her Dad’s little inside joke.

  But now that he was gone, the nickname needed to go, too. She was about as far from a pink-tulle-and-diamond-wearing-princess as she was from a green-skinned alien chick on some old sci-fi show.

  “Princess?”

  “Call me that again and you’ll be wearing breakfast rather than eating it.” Her words lacked any heat. Penny was simply used to resorting to snark when anybody started to hassle her.

  His eyes gleamed though his stern expression didn’t waver. “But you haven’t served me any food with which to break my fast.”

  She jerked her thumb over her shoulder toward the closest table, even while noticing the odd way the man spoke. “There’s plenty of food over there.”

  “Consider me warned.”

  He slid out of the booth and rose to his feet, forcing her to tilt her head back to continue meeting those eyes.

  God, he’s tall. Huge. Freaking gorgeous!

  As if knowing he’d sent her thoughts spinning, he stepped even closer, until their bodies almost touched. His was massive, strong, rippled with muscle. Hers, soft, curvy and yielding. A perfect fit. Her mind suddenly flooded with images of all the lovely ways they could fit together.

  “No,” she insisted, more to herself than him. “This is crazy.”

  “I know,” he admitted. “It’s still happening.”

  “What is?”

  “I’ve been looking for the princess. And I’ve been looking for you. I just never expected they’d turn out to be the same person.”

  Totally not following, Penny could only stare.

  He didn’t explain, just watched her, his gaze hungry. “I’ll fill you in later.”

  She quivered, her ears tricking her for a second into thinking he’d said he’d fill her later. Because, oh, God, did she suspect he could.

  His lips widened in a knowing smile, as if he knew exactly what she’d been thinking. “Later,” he repeated. “Now, back to my mission. Your full name is Penelope Eloisa Mayfair?”

  Damn, she hated that name and did everything she could to keep people from hearing it. How this dude could have learned it was beyond her, but right now, she didn’t care. She just wanted to keep him from repeating it. “Would you lower your voice?”

  A lot of people in this town already looked at her as though she was a two-headed freak and her eccentric name wouldn’t help. Sure, she might have lived among them since she’d been a child, but to most of them, she’d always been an outsider.

  She hadn’t fit in. Not ever. Those who didn’t consider her arrogant and snooty because of how well she did in school looked down on her for not being interested in any of the things that fascinated the other local girls.

  “I need to confirm your identity,” said the stranger.

  “It’s confirmed, okay? Now what do you want?” She edged closer, trying to hide him from nearby diners. Pointless, really. It was like a mouse trying to stop anyone from seeing the grizzly bear in the corner. “In case you haven’t noticed, we’re busy and I’m stressed.”

  “Why not quit?”

  She couldn’t help laughing. “I have bills to pay. Ever heard of not wanting to starve?” Then she glanced around at the awful food cooked by Glen-the-talentless. “Okay, I guess you have. Avoiding starvation is probably the only reason anyone would come to this place.” She kept her voice low, not wanting to offend the regular clientele, or Callie. No point making herself stand out even more.

  Penny’s differentness had been made even more obvious a few months ago, when she’d come back after going on a two-year-long journey to find out who she was and where she belonged. The trip that had confirmed that whole you-have-nobody hypothesis.

  She’d hit the road shortly before her twenty-second birthday, with one goal in mind: discovering her own past. Dad, as much as she loved him, had been keeping secrets all her life. Secrets about his own background and definitely about Penny’s mother’s. He’d promised to give Penny answers when she grew up.

  Unfortunately, he had died before he could keep his promise.

  So Penny had set off on a quest, following the few clues she had. They’d led to nothing but more questions. Eventually losing hope, she had k
ept wandering, trying to find someplace that resonated with her soul. She’d gone from city to city, town to town. In each, she’d tried out a new job, a new hair color, a piercing, a tattoo, or a man before moving on to the next.

  And she’d discovered she didn’t really fit in anywhere. No one location was better than the last. Each left her feeling…restless. Out of step, out of touch. Adrift.

  In that old movie, Dorothy had said there’s no place like home. For Penny, no place was home.

  So she’d given up. Decided that having her hopes raised and then crushed was worse than just not knowing. Penny had come back to her father’s old house, her few friends, and to Callie, the one remaining constant in her life. She’d dragged all the remnants of her journey along with her. They were stamped on her body, on her mind and on her spirit, proof of her efforts to identify the real Penny Mayfair.

  Oh, hadn’t that given the residents of LeBeaux something to talk about! Despite being lovingly welcomed back by a few, to the town’s old guard, she’d simply proved what they’d always suspected of her—that she was bad news.

  “Are you all right?” the stranger said. He spoke softly, knowing she could hear, as if they were so in tune to each other that the symphony of gossiping voices and slinging crockery didn’t exist.

  “I’m fine.”

  Penny shook off her sad thoughts. Things were okay, she was okay. Not fabulous. But okay. She had a job, she had a roof over her head and she had a few true friends, which was better than having dozens of phony ones. She managed to maintain her wild-child image that kept people from looking closer and seeing anything she didn’t want them to. And she sometimes even had fun doing it.

  This is not a bad life.

  Even if deep in her heart she knew it wasn’t the one she had been destined to live.

  “What is it you want?” she asked.

  “I want you to come with me.”

  A shiver of excitement danced through her, even as she formed an instinctive refusal. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

  “Yes, you are.” As if realizing he couldn’t exactly force her out through the packed restaurant, though he seemed tempted, he grudgingly added, “I must speak with you.”

  People had begun to notice their confrontation. They were all eyes, all ears, dying to be scandalized by the town’s bad girl.

  Penny sighed. “I don’t have time for this.”

  “It’s urgent.”

  “Yeah, right. If you lay that ‘Come with me if you want to live’ line on me, I’m going to stab you in the eye with a fork.”

  Though, that might be tough. The guy was staring down from what had to be a good foot advantage, and she was no shorty.

  He merely shook his head, continuing that intense, searching perusal of her face, her hair, her black-clad form.

  “You’re truly Penelope Mayfair? Daughter of Lenore Mayfair?”

  She gasped. “What the hell do you know about my mother?” Penny had no memory of the woman who’d given birth to her. She’d never even seen a single photograph, since her father had said they’d all been lost during a move. So for this stranger to casually throw out the name stung sharply.

  He shook his head, apparently unfazed by her sudden anger. His expression suddenly appeared almost regretful as he asked, “You weren’t a foundling, I assume? No chance you were adopted?”

  Penny’s hand fisted. Whatever this crazy attraction was about, it couldn’t overcome her instinctive need to protect her privacy. “Get out.”

  “How old are you?”

  “I’m twenty-four.” In two weeks. She had replied before even thinking about it. Why she was answering this stranger’s questions, she had no idea. But that was it, no more.

  “Where is your father? Did he abandon you?”

  This time, Penny didn’t listen to the voice of caution that said he was a big, scary-looking dude who knew too much about her. She stomped on his booted foot. Which just served to hurt her rubber-covered arch and didn’t so much as make him flinch.

  “Why did you do that?” he asked, tilting his head in visible confusion and not a bit of discomfort.

  Penny ignored the pain in her foot and glared at the man. “Because you’re seriously pissing me off. Now go away.”

  “Sorry,” he said, shaking his head and looking anything but repentant. “You’re not going to get rid of me that easily.”

  “Easily? I think I broke a bone in my foot.”

  He shrugged. “Not my fault.”

  Glaring, Penny considered stomping on his foot again. Or punching him. But as if he read her thoughts, he narrowed his eyes in warning. “Don’t even think about it. That shot was free. Next time, I defend myself.”

  “Oh, am I supposed to be all scared now?” she snapped, probably sounding more brave than she actually felt. “You think you’re tough enough to intimidate me?”

  Okay, that was dumb, because he was pretty damned intimidating. Though, honestly, she didn’t truly believe he would hurt her. Not only because they were surrounded by people in a public place, but because something about him seemed more ‘big, overbearing protector’ than ‘bad guy’.

  Penny had always had good instincts about people. Those instincts told her that while this man was going to annoy her in ways she hadn’t yet begun to comprehend, he wouldn’t hurt her. The same instincts had warned her that the roughneck, Frank, was a nasty character. And he’d proved that with one disgusting grope.

  This stranger was different. Not that he couldn’t be trouble, but she didn’t experience that instant shiver of awareness that said he was someone you wouldn’t want to turn your back on for fear of getting a knife between your ribs or a hand on your ass.

  She could handle him. Really.

  Though she felt a moment’s panic when he inched closer, keeping his voice low as he finally answered both of her questions.

  “You should definitely be scared. Because if you swing at me one more time, Princess, you’re going to find out exactly how intimidating I can be.”

  2

  IT WAS FUNNY. Lucas had thought finding Princess Penelope would be the hard part when, in fact, it had been remarkably easy. Queen Verona had told him where the girl’s father had said he was taking her, and to his surprise, she’d still been here. He had picked up her trail right after he’d arrived this morning.

  But he suspected locating her would be the only easy thing about this job. Getting her to come with him would be a problem.

  Figuring out how to keep her was going to be an even bigger one.

  But keep her he would. Because there was no way he was going to let her go. Not when, from the moment he’d laid eyes on Penny Mayfair, he’d wanted her with every ounce of his being.

  It had finally happened. He’d looked on a woman and known he’d sooner cut off a limb than do without her.

  And she was the princess he’d been hired to deliver to another man’s marriage bed.

  “Oh, miss? My coffee?”

  Lucas glanced past Penny at an impatient-sounding man sitting at a nearby table. Leveling one slow, steady stare at the stranger, he noted that the man swallowed and pushed his empty coffee cup away, reaching for a glass of water instead.

  “Look, you’re making a scene.”

  “You’re the one who kicked me,” he rebuked, amused by her temper. It brought out the fire in her beautiful eyes.

  “I didn’t kick you,” she snapped. “I stomped on your foot.”

  “So come with me to make amends.”

  Finally, as if too frustrated to argue, Penny said, “Fine. Meet me outside in five minutes. Got it?” Apparently seeing his hesitation, she added, “I’ll be there. I promise.”

  He watched her whirl away, wondering if she would keep her word. But he had no other choice. Short of dragging her out by force, there was nothing he could do but go outside and wait.

  It was just as well. The air was better. Not good, but better than inside the cramped, reeking diner.

  Luc
as didn’t like to spend too much time on the Earth side of the world. It was too loud, too frenetic. Much too crowded with people jammed together in their cities, driving their screeching automobiles, moving much too fast. All his highly attuned senses went into overdrive whenever he crossed the border.

  There were times, when doing his job, that he’d had to cross into areas far worse than this. The city of New Orleans was a torturous maze of noise, colors and odors. Like all his kind, he had a keenly developed sense of smell. So the scents, in particular, were so overwhelming he felt incapable of breathing.

  While in New Orleans, he’d experienced its darkest side. He had gone into dingy, rundown hotels, had staked out seedy tourist traps. He’d followed suspects into vampire-themed bars where the other patrons had no idea the creatures of their imaginations actually existed in other realms.

  At first glance, the Mayfair princess seemed more suited to one of those places than to this small country dining hall. From the purplish tinge in her short, spiked black hair, to the heavily made-up skin and darkly shadowed eyes, she looked like anything but a member of a royal family. Except, perhaps, for Snow White…after she’d been in that glass coffin for a while.

  But those eyes. Those dazzling, purple-violet eyes proclaimed her lineage. From what the stories said, they were a trademark of the Mayfair women.

  Then there was the face. Her lips were full, her chin a bit stubborn, her cheeks soft. Finely boned, delicate and almost fragile, Princess Penelope’s face would, without a doubt, be utterly beautiful when washed clean of the layer of cosmetics and about a decade’s worth of mistrust.

  But the rest. Great Rumpel’s ghost, she was nothing like he’d expected. Nothing like anyone had expected.

  Spoiled, petted princesses often wore jewels. But not, as he recalled, hoops of silver dangling from the lobes of their ears, with smaller rings and studs riding all the way up each curve.

  Her black clothes looked more appropriate for a crone than for a young woman on either side of the border. The only relief from the solid black came from the garish, bright-red canvas shoes that extended all the way up over her ankles.