Read Princess Annie for Free Online Page B

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    After that, the graceful combatants were in a world of their own, it seemed to Annie, a violent and treacherous place, with laws known only to the two of them. She could probably have sneaked away without being noticed, but grim fascination and a bittersweet ache in the back of her heart held her fast upon the marble bench, her hands clenched together in her lap.
    The first ringing clash of the rapiers sent ice water trickling down Annie’s spine, and she held her breath as the match grew more and more ferocious with every passing moment. Sparks spilled from the thin blades and the very air seemed charged with tension, and still the battle went on.
    First one brother seemed to prevail, then the other. Despite his smaller stature, Lucian fought valiantly, parrying, thrusting, once driving Rafael back until the garden wall blocked any further retreat.
    It was obvious that there was something more than a normal rivalry between these two, and it puzzled Annie, as well as frightened her. Her Quade uncles, all lumbermen in faraway Washington State, brawled constantly among themselves—it was a family sport—but the tussles were always good-natured ones, punctuated with colorful insults and much laughter. And Annie’s own sisters, Gabriella, Melissande, Elisabeth and Christina, were all much younger than she was. She adored them, though they sometimes made her cross with their pestering, and had no doubt at all that she would die to protect them, should the need arise.
    Rafael and Lucian, by contrast, plainly despised one another.
    The engagement continued for what seemed like an eternity to Annie, then, finally, Rafael swung his sword arm and sent Lucian’s rapier clattering across the stones of the little path that wound through the garden.
    The prince was breathing hard, his shirtfront soaked with perspiration, as he watched the crimson-faced Lucian retrieve his lost weapon.
    The look in Lucian’s eyes was feral as he straightened, the slender hilt in hand, to face his brother. Something passed between the two men, although neither moved or spoke, something intangible and, in its own way, as violent as their fencing match had been.
    “Perhaps another time, Lucian,” Rafael said, and though his manner was stiff, Annie caught a note of sorrow in his voice.
    Lucian lingered briefly, and it seemed that he was on the verge of saying something. In the end, however, he spun about, rapier in hand, and disappeared into the keep without another word.
    Annie looked at Rafael, relieved that the encounter was over, amazed that both men would walk away whole.
    “I’d like to go now,” she announced.
    Rafael looked surprised to see that she was still sitting there, on the garden bench. Finally, however, he shook his head. “No,” he said, in such a contrary tone that Annie did not offer an argument. “You will stay.”
    She stood, her knees trembling under the skirts of her new yellow dress. Only the night before, while clinging to the gargoyle on the tower parapet, she’d feared she wouldn’t live to wear it. “Your hands,” she said. “Look. You’ve hurt them again.”
    Annie crossed the short distance between them and took his left hand in hers. He was still holding the rapier in his right.
    “You’re bleeding,” she whispered, examining his injured palm.
    When she met his gaze, she saw an angry vulnerability in his eyes. She knew he wanted to withdraw from her, knew also that he could not. It was a surprise to both of them, Annie realized, when he curled a finger under her chin, bent his head and kissed her.
    At first, Rafael was tentative, barely touching Annie’s mouth with his own. In the next instant, however, he took command, making her part her lips for him, conquering her with his tongue. Sweet fire rushed through her, consuming every awareness but that of his mouth on hers.
    Annie was forever changed by that brief and blazing encounter; she knew it even then.
    At last, Rafael drew back and muttered a