Exiled

  Exiled

  Maya Banks

  HEAT | NEW YORK

  THE BERKLEY PUBLISHING GROUP

  Published by the Penguin Group

  Penguin Group (USA) LLC

  375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014

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  A Penguin Random House Company

  EXILED

  A Heat Book / published by arrangement with the author

  “Exiled” previously appeared in the anthology Cherised.

  Copyright © 2013 by Maya Banks.

  Penguin supports copyright. Copyright fuels creativity, encourages diverse voices, promotes free speech, and creates a vibrant culture. Thank

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  a division of Penguin Group (USA) LLC,

  375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.

  ISBN: 978-0-698-15693-7

  PUBLISHING HISTORY

  Heat Special edition / March 2014

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Version_1

  Prologue

  Prince Alexander Carrera stared at the photo of the beautiful, smiling girl and his heart was seized by panic. Time was not on his side. Not his friend. Indeed, it was his worst enemy.

  Just four years earlier, he’d met Talia Montforte, or rather she’d been thrust into his life, a whirlwind from which he’d never really recovered. But she’d only been a girl of eighteen and he could not have her, no matter how much he was enchanted by her. She was too young, too innocent. His attraction was inappropriate. He couldn’t act then.

  Now she was a young woman of twenty-two, and newly graduated from university in Paris. A young woman poised to start her life, a woman who had no idea how he felt about her or that he’d guided every aspect of her life for the last four years. That he’d waited patiently for the day he could claim her.

  He turned when he heard his door open. Standing in the doorway were Sebastien, Garon and Nico, his closest friends. Men charged with his safety and security. The only people he trusted implicitly in a world where he could afford to trust no one.

  His country was in turmoil. His future was uncertain.

  But he knew one thing.

  He could not lose Talia to another man. Another life. He could not stand by and watch her move away, never knowing that she held his very heart in her hands.

  “It’s time,” he said in a low voice to the others.

  He could see their gazes focused on the glossy photo in his hand. They knew of Talia. Knew what was to come, what his expectations of her were and what his expectations of them were.

  “Send for her now,” he ordered. “I cannot wait another day.”

  Garon frowned. “Now, Highness?”

  Xander nodded. “Before it’s too late. I will not lose her.”

  Chapter 1

  There will be a time when I call for you, Talia. I’ll expect you to come. Until then, you’re needed here. Remain with your mother until she is strong and healthy again.

  Talia Montforte shivered as the long-ago said words slid through her mind. Words she’d never forgotten, though there were times she’d wondered if the prince had truly meant them. She’d gotten her answer a mere week ago when the royal summons had arrived.

  Now, as she stared out the window of the private jet, the island grew bigger as they closed in. She was nearly there, and Prince Alexander “Xander” Carrera waited somewhere on that island. For her.

  Anxiety clutched at her stomach. She flipped her long, dark hair back over her shoulder and thought not for the first time that she should have pinned it up. But his instructions had been explicit. What to wear. How to fashion her hair. Everything to the letter had been dictated in the summons.

  And God, had it been lengthy. Her cheeks still buzzed with heat over the details. The questions. The medical exam. Her entire world had been upended the moment the messenger bearing the royal seal had appeared at her mother’s home.

  It was time, the message had said. There would be care provided for Talia’s mother, but Talia was to come at once.

  The last years had been turbulent years for her country. Xander’s father had been assassinated. Talia had feared the worst for the royal family, but word had been leaked that they’d escaped safely.

  The rebellion still raged and there was yet hope that the usurpers to the throne would be ousted so that the royal family could be welcomed back. The country waited. Talia had waited, never expecting that she would be summoned to him in exile.

  It had been difficult to leave the life she’d resigned herself to. Only in the beginning had she had even a whisper of regret that things wouldn’t turn out the way she’d planned. She’d wanted to attend university. Travel the world. Eventually come back to her country to contribute to the growing industry and economy of the small island nation off Spain’s coast.

  Instead her mother had been diagnosed with cancer and, faced with the inability to pay for the mounting costs, Talia had sworn off university and taken any odd job she was able to land. Until the day Prince Alexander—or Xander, as he insisted she address him—had arrived at her small cottage by the sea.

  He’d swept in, issued orders for her mother to be transferred to a center in France that specialized in treating the form of cancer Talia’s mother suffered. He’d then insisted that Talia attend university in Paris. He’d put her up in an apartment that was close in proximity to where her mother’s care was being overseen and the school where she studied. He’d even given her a monthly allowance and made sure that all her living expenses had been paid.

  And why?

  She still didn’t know why.

  The only thing he’d ever said to her was that one day he’d summon her and she was to come at once. Of course she’d agreed. What person wouldn’t? When faced with her mother’s mortality and being able to ensure her mother’s health and have her dream of attending university, the promise hadn’t seemed too much to give.

  Now she wasn’t certain, because now she had no idea just what she’d traded in her bargain with the prince.

  She shook her head as the plane touched down. Oh, she knew. Or at least now she had a very good idea. And it was no matter, because if faced with the same situation all over again, she’d do it without reservation.

  Her pride. Her body. Her very soul. None of it was too precious a thing to sacrifice for her mother.

  And, if she was completely honest, she was intrigued by the request.

  The missive had been short and to the point. But what had come after had opened her eyes to exactly what it was the prince was expecting of her.

  Mistress. Lover. Concubine. Whore?

  No matter what word she put on it, nothing changed the stark reality of her presence on this island sanctuary.

  She was a toy. A thing. She was for his amusement, his entertainment. His desire. His whim.

  The plane rolled to a stop and as she looked out her window, all she saw was the sparkling waters of the Caribbean.

  “You may remove your seat belt and come with me, Miss Montforte.
”

  She unfastened herself with trembling fingers, then looked up to the staid-looking, gray-haired man who stood in the aisle waiting to assist her. She grabbed her handbag like it was a security blanket and slowly stood.

  When she stepped onto the platform outside the plane, the bright wash of sunshine had her reaching for the sunglasses she’d stuffed in the pocket of her bag. For a moment she paused, soaking up her surroundings. The water sparkled in the distance and all around her was rugged landscape, mountainous toward the center and west and flatter to the east. The sky was as brilliant as the water itself, and not a single puff of white marred the perfect sheet of blue.

  A hand touched her elbow and she started, jerking from her silent assessment of her temporary new home. Six months. For six months she’d agreed to live in this place. To be whatever the prince wanted her to be.

  The man who’d escorted her out of the car and onto the plane in Paris was now assisting her down the steps toward a black Mercedes parked just a short distance away.

  She smoothed the wrinkles from the silk skirt, a gift from Prince Alex—no, she must remember that he was to be addressed as Xander. He’d been very specific on that matter. He’d purchased her an entire new wardrobe, and baffling was the fact that he’d chosen the exact sizes she wore. Everything from underwear to shoes.

  The lingerie was to die for. Sinfully sexy and yet ultrafeminine. Putting it on made her want to purr in delight and yet roar like a sultry seductress. She didn’t even want to entertain what it all had cost. It would likely have paid for her mother’s treatment twice over.

  “His Highness awaits,” the man said as he handed her into the backseat of the car.

  In the front, another man wearing dark sunglasses glanced at her in the rearview mirror.

  “Are you ready, miss?”

  She nodded and then the door closed and the car immediately pulled away from the small jet.

  They pulled onto a roughly paved stretch of road, but the farther they traveled it, the smoother it became. She glanced curiously around, wondering at the inhabitants. If there was a town. Shehadn’t been able to see anything on the flight in. It had all looked frighteningly barren of any sort of human activity, but it certainly didn’t suffer from lack of vibrancy of nature.

  Lush, green. Sparkling sands. Rugged mountains. She’d even seen a waterfall as the plane had made its descent.

  The road meandered around a curve and then turned out onto a point on the eastern edge of the island. She leaned forward, spotting formidable gates that opened as if by magic as they approached.

  They continued in and she gasped softly at the private paradise that existed beyond those imposing gates.

  There weren’t words to describe the grounds. Immaculately rendered. Flowers, so many that the burst of color was a shock to her eyes. Plants, foliage. Fruit trees. Palms. Flowering vines and bushes.

  And nestled among it all was a palatial villa with a huge water feature in front of the sprawling entrance. She couldn’t call it a fountain exactly. It wasn’t one fountain, but a huge series of them, intricately designed. It looked like the villa’s own private waterfall and oasis.

  As the car pulled to a stop, she was gripped by sudden nerves that nearly paralyzed her. Finding solace that at least her eyes were hidden by the sunglasses she’d donned, she turned to see a tall man striding toward the car. He reached for the handle as the driver stepped out and opened her door.

  “Miss Montforte,” he said smoothly. “His Royal Highness bids you welcome to his home.”

  “So she came,” Xander murmured as he stared down at Talia gracefully exiting the car he’d sent to pick her up at the airstrip.

  “Did you doubt she would?” Garon asked dryly.

  Xander’s gaze never left Talia as Sebastien took her arm to escort her into the villa.

  “Who knows the mind of a woman?” Xander said. “I’ve seen nothing to doubt that she would ever go back on her word, but when faced with my expectations, it’s only logical to assume that any woman in her position would have second thoughts.”

  Garon’s lips twitched in amusement. “Indeed.”

  “She’s still a virgin,” Xander said, unable to keep the satisfaction from his voice.

  “That pleases you.”

  Xander lifted an imperious brow. “Of course it does. I may not be her only, but I’ll damn well be the first.”

  “Some might argue that what you plan to subject her to is a bit much for an innocent.”

  Xander could no longer see Talia. Sebastien had escorted her into the front where she would await him in the sitting room. He twitched with impatience to go to her, but it wouldn’t do for him to seem eager.

  He wanted this to be on his terms. She would never know just how long he’d waited for this time to come. She was his now.

  “You’re a damn hypocrite,” Xander said with no heat. “You’re dying to fuck her every bit as much as I am.”

  Garon’s lip lifted once more. The slight arch at the corner of his mouth was the closest he got most days to actually smiling.

  “I don’t have the taste for innocents that you seem to have.”

  “She won’t be so damn innocent when I’m finished with her,” Xavier murmured. “Besides, I don’t have a proclivity for virgins. Just one virgin. Her. I find I’m very possessive when it comes to Talia.”

  Garon gave a snort. “And yet you’ll share her with your most trusted men.”

  Xander shrugged. “It’s who I am. It’s what I do. I haven’t heard you complain once.”

  Garon seemed to ponder the matter a moment and then his expression grew more serious. “No, I’ve not complained. But the woman in question has never been someone important to you. Talia obviously is. Think about what you do, Xander. Sex is sex. Kink is kink. I like a good time and a beautiful woman as well as the next man. But I would hate to lose trust or a friendship because emotions got involved.”

  “Then see that yours don’t.”

  Garon shook his head just as Sebastien entered the library. He inclined his head in respect toward Xander. “Talia waits below as you requested.”

  “Tell me, Sebastien, do you find her beautiful?”

  Sebastien lifted one eyebrow and then his eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “I’m uncertain of the point of your question, Your Highness. Of course she is a beautiful woman. Time has been more than kind to her. She’s no longer a girl of eighteen but a lovely woman of twenty-two.”

  Garon stifled laughter at Sebastien’s rather irreverent address. “Your Highness” only got brought out for sarcasm. Xander’s security team were men who’d been with Xander for many years. Even before, they’d attended university together. Their friendship, trust and loyalty was unquestioning. Garon, Sebastien and Nico had been Xander’s only friends during a time of unrest in his country and in return they were the only people Xander trusted implicitly.

  “Some would argue that twenty-two is still very much a girl,” Garon pointed out. “Virgin. Untouched. She seems very unworldly for a woman who’s spent the last four years in one of the world’s most sophisticated cities.”

  “Are you trying to insinuate that Xander is a dirty old man?” Sebastien drawled.

  Xander chuckled and Garon did that half smile again.

  “I think it’s been well established that I’m a hopeless hedonist,” Xander said. “The question is whether she’ll be able to accept that.”

  Sebastien sobered and glanced between Garon and Xander. “Is that what this is then? A test?”

  Put that way, it sounded cold and clinical. No, nothing about his feelings for Talia could be considered cold.

  “Perhaps?” he said lightly, unwilling to let his friends see the depth of his uncertainty or his indecision. “Perhaps it is a test of myself as well to see if this…lifestyle…is what I need or if it’s something I’ve merely wanted and enjoyed in the past.”

  “We’ll endeavor not to fuck it up for you,” Garon said dryly.

 
Xander lifted an eyebrow. “See that you don’t. She is to be spoiled and pampered. Her every need and whim seen to. She is mine—ours—make no mistake about it. She will be molded and taught. She will submit without reservation. But in return she will be treated and respected as the princess I intend her to be.”

  “Fucking a beautiful woman,” Sebastien said sardonically. “Such a chore. I think we should ask for raises.”

  Xander’s gaze sharpened. “You won’t be fucking her, Bastien. You’re going to worship her and pleasure her as you’ve never pleasured another woman.”

  “I have no problem with that at all,” Sebastien said in a lazy voice that was full of satisfaction—and anticipation.

  Xander checked his watch. “We’ve kept her waiting long enough. Go find Nico. I want a few moments alone with her and then I’ll expect all three of you to make an appearance.”

  Chapter 2

  Talia sat dutifully on the couch in the huge sitting room she’d been shown into. After a few nervous starts, she realized that the prince wouldn’t be making an immediate appearance and she turned so she could see out the floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the beach mere feet from the back terrace.

  She hadn’t been certain what to expect. Maybe a palace worthy of a sultan. Something ostentatious that screamed wealth and privilege.

  The palace on Cristofino Island was straight from a fairy tale. Built in the 1600s, it had withstood conflict, wars and a major fire and still stood a proud monument to her country. Over the years it had been renovated, but special care had been taken to maintain the integrity of the original design.

  Here on this island, while she could certainly see the expense in the surroundings, nothing was garishly opulent. The colors were warm and soothing. The furnishings were in soft leather, so comfortable that she’d sighed when she sank onto the couch. It had been too tempting not to run her fingers over the surface almost as if she were petting an animal.