The Red Queen Read Online Free Page A

tolerate their violence and his pride, one day they would deliver her a body bag with Vladimir inside.
    Rage fell into Lucienne’s eyes.
    Ashburn was at her side in an instant, his hand grabbing her shoulder. “Lucia,” he said, “easy. Reel in your anger.” And then he pulled her into his arms.
    His woody scent filled her world. His warmth and hard chest was the haven she’d been searching for. Pleasure rushed over her. Ash was using the Lure to distract her so she wouldn’t let fury take over. Anger was the major cause of her insanity.
    Lucienne’s temper ebbed away at Ash’s touch.
    Vladimir was beside her. He was always fast. As he watched his rival embrace her, his jaw tightened, but he didn’t attack. In the past, he’d have assaulted Ashburn for that, but her condition brought the two of them to an understanding. Vladimir tapped Ashburn on the shoulder to indicate that he could take over hugging Lucienne.
    Ashburn gave Vladimir a sinister glare, but Lucienne extricated herself from him to avoid a further conflict. Vladimir immediately pulled her into his arms, his hands, rough and strong, tight against the small of her back. Lucienne could read his intention to replace Ashburn’s scent with his, and she was momentarily confused by the sudden shift. Both scents were intoxicating, but now wasn’t the best time to make a comparison.
    With clenched fists, Ashburn returned to his seat, his death glare glued on Vladimir. Ashburn was more conservative and considerate. He wouldn’t do anything to provoke her; Vladimir, on the other hand, was reckless even in the most hazardous situation.
    “Will you let me have my breakfast?” she asked Vladimir and he released her reluctantly. She noticed his limp as he went back to his seat, though he was very careful to hide it. The men had beaten him up terribly.
    “Did you get into a fight again?” she asked.
    Vladimir shrugged. “Just a quarrel.”
    “A quarrel?” She stared at him. “They mauled your face.”
    Ashburn looked alarmed again. Lucienne gave him a nod to tell him that she would get hold of herself.
    Vladimir had the nerve to flash a grin at her. “You should see how they look.”
    Ashburn snorted at Vladimir’s bravado. Lucienne could imagine how the men looked and how many men it took to take the prince down. He’d finally admitted it was more than one man. She could guess who the ringleader was—the battle-hardened Finley. He’d hated Vladimir since the Brazil raid.
    Vladimir saw the dangerous glint in her eyes and went rigid, his grin gone. “Lucia,” he said, not forgetting to give her a frown of disapproval. He’d been pretending she was just like before, and that everything was normal. As if by making believe, things would be fine for the two of them. “It was just a fight,” he stressed. “Men are like dogs. Men fight.”
    Ashburn shook his head in disgust and turned to drink his Irish tea.
    Aida stepped through the adjacent inner door with a cart of a full-course breakfast.
    “Ah, Aida,” Vladimir said cheerfully, shifting his attention to the food, “just in time. I’m starving.”
    Aida didn’t look in his direction. It took more than a touch of willpower for her not to poison his food. Had it not upset Lucienne, she just might have done it. The nanny stopped the cart beside her charge. “My sweet girl,” she said, “I made you your favorite omelet.” She laid out several dishes in front of Lucienne, then placed a glass of almond milk on the side. As Lucienne eyed Vladimir’s coffee, the nanny said firmly, “No coffee, Lucia. Doctor’s orders.”
    Lucienne heaved a sigh and gestured for the guards to join her for breakfast, and they eagerly took seats on either side of her.
    “No man can resist Aida’s full English course,” Duncan said.
    “I’m not English,” Aida said. “I’m a Mongolian.”
    “Sorry,” Duncan murmured, “I didn’t mean English. I meant course.”
    “I know what you meant!” said