Royal Mistake #6 Page 9

  My body urges me to join with her immediately, to quench the agonizing desire pulsing through me, but I don’t. Instead, I shift myself down her body, continuing my admiration of her.

  “I love your throat,” I tell her as I kiss her neck. “And your shoulders.”

  I let my lips trail down one arm and then the other, touching her everywhere, memorizing every freckle and every little scar. I should have taken the time to do this before—to explore her thoroughly during our lovemaking—but back then, I thought we had the luxury of time on our side. I was a fool.

  Next, I kiss my way down her front.

  “I love your breasts,” I saw, my voice ragged. “And your nipples.” I brush my tongue across one of those sensitive nubs, but while I relish the little moan she makes, I don’t allow myself to linger.

  “I love your stomach,” I say, sliding lower. “And your bellybutton.”

  My mouth dances across her belly, moving from one side to the other, and I take in every mark on her skin. Every curve of her flesh. Everything.

  Her hips are next, and then her legs. As with her arms, I take the legs one by one, kissing down their length and then back up again. I linger on her toes, letting my lips taste them one by one, and I find a tiny birthmark on her thigh that I didn’t notice before. Finally, I find myself back up where her thighs part, and I push them gently open.

  “And I especially love you here,” I murmur. “I love the way you smell. And the way you taste.”

  I slide my tongue down the length of her, and she groans, arching her back.

  “If I could, I would taste you every day,” I tell her. “I’d worship your body day in and day out for as I long as I lived.”

  I lick her again, and this time she whimpers.

  I don’t try to speak anymore. Instead, I continue to tease her with my tongue, sliding it over her wet, silken skin. I want to memorize her here, too. Remember every fold, commit the pure, musky scent of her to my mind.

  Her hands find my hair, her fingers gripping my scalp as my mouth serves her. Her pleasure is building quickly, coming rapidly to a head, but before I can push her over the edge, she suddenly tugs at my hair, pulling my face away from her.

  “Not…yet…” she says breathlessly. “Please, not yet.”

  “You’re so close—”

  “I want you up here,” she says. “Please, Andrew. I want to look at you when I…”

  I don’t have it in me to deny her that.

  Slowly, I move back up her body, leaning over her again. She looks up at me with wide, dark eyes, and her entire upper body is flushed.

  “Please,” she begs again. “I need you inside of me…”

  And I don’t have the strength to hold back any longer. I lean forward and kiss her once, gently, before positioning myself between her legs. Then I pull back, looking down into her eyes as I slide inside of her.

  Our bodies join easily, as if we were made to fit together. Her eyes flutter slightly as I bury my cock in her softness, but her gaze remains locked on mine.

  “I love you,” she whispers.

  “I love you,” I return. “I will always love you.”

  I begin to move without breaking her gaze. Her lips fall open, and her eyes remain open, too, even when they start to glisten again with fresh tears.

  Her hands dig into me. Her body arches up to meet mine thrust for thrust, and I can feel her starting to tense—she was already close to her climax, and her arousal is bringing me quickly toward my own.

  The tears have started to spill down her cheeks now, and with a shock, I realize my own lashes are damp again.

  I refuse to give up hope. I refuse to let this be our last night together. I’ll love you forever, Victoria.

  Victoria lets out a small cry, and her body goes rigid beneath mine. But her eyes stay on mine, and I watch everything play out in their depths—her pleasure, her love, her sadness. Her core pulses around me, gripping my cock and bringing me to my own climax. I hear myself groan as I empty myself into her, filling her with all of my love. All of my hope.

  As I lower myself next to her, I pull her into my arms.

  “We’ll find a way to be together,” I murmur into her hair. “We have to.”

  She doesn’t say anything, only snuggles closer to me. I can feel her tears on my skin.

  “We have to,” I say again, and this time my voice sounds raw.

  I find her hand, my fingers skimming across hers until I find the ring. The symbol of my undying love. I close my hand around hers.

  I will never give up hope. Never.

  Victoria

  We cling to each other for the rest of the night, almost as though we’re hoping morning will never arrive. But it does, and I wake as soon as the first light hits the window of the small bedroom.

  Andrew doesn’t stir behind me as I find his hand on my belly and cover it with mine. I never want to forget this moment. I want to remember everything about the way he feels. I want to memorize how his body feels, pressed against mine as he holds me the way he always does, with my back against his chest.

  I want to remember everything about the way I feel when I’m with him—how it seems anything is possible. Like nothing in the world can get in our way as long as we’re together.

  I close my eyes again and try to memorize everything about this moment—probably the last I’ll have with Andrew.

  The practical part of me knows I should go. I should grab my clothes and slip away before he wakes up—before this becomes too difficult for both of us. But I can’t seem to move. I don’t want to move—and my practical side can be damned.

  He promised we’d find a way through this. Find a way to be together. But the sad truth is the only way we’ll be able to be together is if I’m his mistress. We’re right back where we started—I can’t be his wife. There’s no way for us to be together. Not now. Not with the threat of a war hanging over his head. And I’m just not willing to play second fiddle to Princess Justine, no matter how nice of a person she is. And I don’t want to do that to her, anyway. I’m not going to cheat with someone else’s husband.

  If Andrew had left me well enough alone, none of this would have ever happened. We never would have been in a plane crash together. He never would have had to hire me to cover his stupid pageant. And he never would have humiliated Justine, getting him into the predicament we face now. If we had never met, we never would have had to face this mess.

  And I never would have fallen in love. And that is the real problem. I was just so sure I never needed to fall in love again. I was so sure I didn’t want to fall in love again. And I certainly never meant for it to happen with Prince Andrew, of all people. He was the fantasy—the brooding, uptight prince who gave so few interviews that no one knew much about him. He was perfect—every woman could build him up in her head to be exactly what she fantasized he’d be.

  And he turned out to be nothing like my fantasies at all. He’s so, so much better than I ever could have dreamed.

  I shift against him, almost hoping I’ll graze a part of him that will wake him up and make him want to take me one last time. I should just roll over and take matters in my own hands, but Andrew is sleeping so peacefully, I’m almost embarrassed to admit I want to have him again, especially when I know he hasn’t been sleeping well.

  But I need him one last time. I need to feel him inside me—I need look into his eyes when I come one final time.

  God, I need him. How am I ever going to not need him?

  I take his hand in mine, lifting it away slightly so I have room to turn to face him. I have every intention of making it very clear to him that I need to have him make love to me now. Hell, maybe I need him to fuck me. Maybe that’s what we both need—to show each other our raw passion one last time. Last night was filled with tearful, sweet moments. But I think right now, I need to show him the pure, unadulterated lust I also have for him. Because I don’t want him to forget this moment, either.

  I’m not even t
urned to face him completely when I hear something. It takes me a second to realize it’s the slamming of the front door, followed shortly by muffled voices. And laughter. Definitely laughter.

  My eyes widen in horror and I reach for the sheet to cover Andrew and myself before the intruders walk into the bedroom.

  At the same moment I’m reaching to the end of the bed for a blanket, Andrew awakens, pulling me tightly to him again. He buries his head in my hair. “You’re not leaving. Not yet. Not before I have you at least one more time.”

  My voice is low—I don’t want whoever is out there knowing the two of us are in here. Not until I’m covered, anyway. “Andrew—”

  He interrupts me by crushing his lips to mine.

  It takes me a second to recover—even with the threat of intruders, there’s still something about his kiss that makes me melt, unable to think coherently. I break away, trying to twist out of his grasp and reach again for the sheet.

  “Victoria.” Andrew’s voice is almost a growl. He wraps his arms around my waist to prevent me from pulling away.

  And I can’t quite reach the sheet. He obviously thinks I’m trying to get up, but all I want is to cover my body before—

  “My God, Andrew. I know I’ve been saying for years that you need to get laid, but…” Leo chuckles and rubs his jaw. “Well done, Brother.”

  I let out a short, almost raspy breath as Andrew’s grip on me loosens just enough for me to pull the sheet up to cover my body, and I clutch it over my chest.

  Leo’s eyes never leave Andrew’s, almost as though he’s trying to show me some small amount of respect. “Good to see you again, Ms. Simpson. Though I must say, I was not expecting to see so much of you.”

  My face is on fire and I consider pulling the sheet up over my head.

  Andrew’s cheeks look like mine feel and he pulls the sheet over enough to cover himself from the waist down. “Leopold, I would ask what you’re doing here, but—”

  “You sent our sister to fetch me, did you not? And here I am. I thought Elle and I might…rest a while before we go and see Father this afternoon.” He motions to the hallway. “She’s in the washroom now, freshening up.”

  Andrew rolls his eyes. “You thought you might bring her here for a little playdate, did you? And what, might I ask, is wrong with your suite? It isn’t as though you two haven’t spent an inordinate amount of time in there over the past few months.”

  “The problem, Brother, is not with my suite, but with who is guarding the palace at this time. I imagine you know who I’m speaking of.” Leo’s gaze darts to mine for the briefest moment before it falls back on Andrew. “We both know that Stephan has something of a distaste for foreign women. I’m sure you’ve experienced it yourself. Elle and I have been…utilizing the cottage from time to time. Particularly when Stephan is in one of those moods, as he appears to be now—”

  “Yes, because our father is ill and is hospitalized. Father’s only just come out of surgery last evening. And the only thing you’re able to think of is having a rendezvous with your lover? Have you no conscience, Brother?”

  Leo’s brow furrows for a second before he shakes his head. “Do I really need to point out that you are lying naked in bed with your lover?” His face flushes a bit and his gaze drops to the floor instead of to me. “I apologize, Ms. Simpson, though my brother seems to think—”

  “The reasons Victoria and I are here are none of your concern and are completely different from the reasons you and Doctor Parker are here, I assure you.”

  Leo lifts a brow and looks back at Andrew. “Not by the looks of it, Brother. I’m fairly certain both of us had the same intentions. Only you and your lover arrived first. And had I known you were also using the gardener’s cottage as a hideaway, I would have never…” He clears his throat. “Again, I apologize, Ms. Simpson.”

  “It’s fine.” My voice is low, only barely above a ragged whisper. “I should be going, anyway.”

  “Like hell you should.” There’s an edge in Andrew’s voice that I’ve only heard around Leo. “My brother and his betrothed will be leaving when she exits the washroom.” He pauses, glaring at Leo. “Won’t you, Leopold?”

  Leo does a half-bow sort of gesture and takes a step back into the hallway. “Whatever you wish, Your Grace.”

  Andrew growls under his breath.

  Leo smiles and rolls his eyes. “Elle and I will be fine in my quarters. Or perhaps we can find another underutilized room inside the palace.”

  “Hm. Like your office, perhaps?” Andrew folds his arms over his chest. “Why did you leave, anyway? Besides the fact that you were not here when Father was taken ill, you also refused to answer your mobile. You may want to deny your responsibilities as a representative of this country, but in this circumstance—”

  “Can we perhaps save this lecture for later? After I have had at least a few hours sleep? It was a long plane ride, and Sophia chirped at me the entire way here. You have met our sister, have you not?”

  Andrew only glares at Leo.

  “Right, as I thought.” Leo glances into the hallway, but Elle hasn’t returned. “I merely thought Elle and I might be able to rest more fitfully away from the noise of the palace, particularly when we seem to have guests in King Maximilian and Prince Reginald. God, I hope they leave before the festival begins on Friday. It’s definitely going to make it infinitely less fun if they’re still hanging around.”

  Andrew nods, but says nothing. His gaze is still narrowed, but less of a glare now.

  Leo continues. “I didn’t mean for us to have a run-in over who is entitled to use the cottage for…sleepovers, Brother.”

  Something in Andrew’s expression softens. “I am glad you’ve arrived home safely, Leopold. We have much to discuss.” He glances over at me. “I’ve asked Victoria to be my wife. And with that, there are some additional responsibilities of which you’ll need to become aware.”

  My mouth falls open and my eyes widen as I turn to him. “Andrew. I think…I think maybe you’ve forgotten that we…” I drop my voice, though I’m sure Leo can still hear. “We can’t. We can’t get married.”

  Andrew frowns and lets out a long breath. “I’ve not yet determined how we will be together, Victoria. But in the night, I did decide that we will. You and I will be married. I’ll not agree to any concession where that is not a condition. And I’ll not be agreeing to marry Princess Justine.”

  I shake my head. “And I’ll not be agreeing to marry you, either. Not with the threat of war hanging over our heads. Or did you forget that part?”

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Leo interjects. “Did you say…war?”

  Andrew lifts a brow and glares at Leo again. “As I said, Leopold, we need to discuss many things. And perhaps you’ll have some semblance of an idea of how our countries might come to an agreement before my meeting with King Maximilian again later this morning. I’ve already asked William to join me for a late breakfast. You should join us, too.”

  Leo shakes his head. “As I said, I’m in no condition. I’ve had no sleep in days—”

  “Too bad,” Andrew interrupts. “You can sleep when this crisis is over. Now…” He motions with his head toward the door. “Now leave us. And close the door on your way out.”

  Andrew

  Leopold retreats from the room, closing the door behind him. I rub my forehead before dragging myself over to the edge of the bed and throwing my feet over the side. I was hoping Victoria and I might have each other one more time before we were forced to face the real world again, but it looks like that won’t be the case.

  I feel her move behind me. A moment later, I feel her against my back, and her cheek rests against my shoulder. I pull her arms around my waist, wanting her close to me.

  After a couple of seconds, a long, slow breath escapes her. “We can’t keep pretending—”

  “There is no pretending,” I insist. “We will find a way to be together, Victoria. And I don’t mean with you as my mistress.�
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  She tries to pull her hands back, but I close my fingers over hers. Beneath my palm, I can feel the pearl of the ring I gave her last night.

  “Promise me you’ll keep it with you,” I say.

  I don’t have to specify what I mean by it. She hesitates for the slightest of moments before saying. “I’ll wear it around my neck. But Andrew, I still think—”

  “Don’t think,” I say. “Just trust me. There is nothing to think about. You know, deep in your heart, that we were put on this earth to be together. Thinking doesn’t come into it at all.” I release her and force myself to stand. “You should know by now that I am a very stubborn man. And I don’t intend to change that now.”

  I look back at her just in time to see the smallest of smiles on her lips. “You are pretty damn stubborn.”

  “Especially when it matters.” I grab my clothes from the ground. There’s no reason to put on my entire formal suit again, but the pants and shirt should at least make me decent for breakfast. “But you can be pretty stubborn, too.” I straighten and look at her. “You aren’t planning on leaving the moment we part, are you?”

  I can tell by the way her gaze slides away from mine that she’s been thinking about it again. In an instant, I’m on my knees in front of the bed, taking her hands in mine.

  “Please stay,” I say. “Trust me.”

  “It’s not a matter of trust,” she says. “It’s a matter of doing the right thing. For Montovia.”

  In spite of myself, I feel a smile pull at my mouth. I raise her fingers to my lips. “And that, my love, is how I know I’ve made the right choice.”

  She gives me a quizzical look. “The right choice?”

  “In you. That’s exactly how a queen would think.”