He massaged her arm like she was the one with the goosebumps when it was actually all him as he said, “I haven’t downloaded music. It can contain files…”
“I have music that I downloaded through your family’s network you set up,” she interrupted and then walked away.
He slipped his hands into his light gray pants pockets, unsure what else to do. She grabbed her phone from her pocketbook, next to the bed.
Instantly he imagined himself behind her, kissing her neck and taking her down on the mattress where he’d remove that blue dress.
For now he forced himself to check that the window in their chamber was open. He needed fresh air. “Then turn it on.”
She pressed her hand on his shoulder and he turned away from the sun high in the sky. She closed the blinds and the light disappeared from the room as she said, “The women at home are having tea tomorrow.”
Normalcy. Right. He took a deep breath and hoped that helped him cool down. “Do you want to fly back to Miami?”
“We said we’d decide that, after the party.” She shrugged, clicked on a slow song he recognized from his teenage years, and said, “It’s nice to have options. Being a Bentley is way more exciting than I imagined my life would ever be. Being a Sawyer never did much for me.”
He held out his hand like his dance instructor had taught him and offered a dance. She stared at his upturned palm and then slipped her fingers around his.
She didn’t flinch when he wrapped his arms around her waist and led her into a dance. She released a small sigh but followed his lead.
Holding her was part of what he wanted, but he’d wait for more until she offered her heart to him. Beau's heart thundered as he led her around the bedroom in the square pattern he’d mesmerized from his dancing tutors.
The song changed to another slow classic. “Sarah, you and my father… what do you two talk about for hours?”
She met his gaze and smiled as she said, “We talked a lot about you.”
Fair. He was the common denominator. “Well, he is my father. What else?”
Her lips thinned as she said, “My father wouldn’t nearly be so proud of me, I can guarantee it.”
Their lives were nothing alike. The money he’d had was a privilege, but his family mattered more than every cent. He’d had love, which was something Sarah saw for herself. “Being the sixth in line, it’s hard to see sometimes. My younger sister was the baby and only girl, though she’s the closest in age to me, and Oliver is the favorite.”
She sounded like she'd memorized his father’s tone as she said, “Oliver is the heir and they want to protect him because he’ll have the most responsibilities, but I think your father sees more of himself in you.”
He stopped dancing for a second but regained his step. His father thought they were alike? “In me?”
She shared conspiratorially, “Yeah. He said you were the quiet, serious type and that I needed to give you time and space.”
His father hadn’t appeared to take that much interest in his brothers or their wives, but Beau laughed as it seemed he and his father were working on the same plan without discussing it. “Space? I’ve been giving you both time and space too.”
Sarah’s shoulders tightened. “Then I guess we were on the same page, for perhaps different reasons. I’m good at avoiding people and keeping you at arm's length.”
He squeezed her side in response to her words, without thinking about his actions. As his wife, if something happened to him, she’d never have to worry about anything ever again. His parents would watch out for her now. She stepped closer as he said, “I understand that opening up today was a big deal. I hope you know you can trust me with what you said.”
The blush on her face grew redder. “I told you and an audience. It was like I couldn’t stop.”
Good. Even if what she said was the talk of the country, no one would say anything to her. And if anyone hurt her, he’d swoop her out of here, fast. So he relaxed, spun her around, causing her to laugh and said, “Well whatever triggered all that truth… I’m glad I was there.”
“I feel safe at your side.” She wiped a tear from her eye though she didn’t seem sad. “I wouldn’t have told a hall of servants if I didn't.”
He ended the dance and bowed in the formal fashion he’d been taught to end a formal dance at a court he’d never been too, with his hand on his heart. “So the confession was for me and I’m honored.”
She cupped his cheeks. “Of course.”
“You can trust me.” He ignored how the buzz in his skin had his hair standing on end.
Her lips quivered and then she said, “I hope that’s true. I want to.”
Every cell in his body urged him to kiss her again. “Then I’ve already won what I want the most.”
Her eyelids fluttered. “You mean your revenge?”
She didn’t get it. He shook his head and came closer, following his instincts that she would welcome him now. “No. I mean you.”
His lips met hers and he wrapped his arms fully around her, holding her tight.
One day soon, he would have her naked in his bed. No other woman had ever held his interests for this long. Since waiting for Sarah to see the truth of his love for her, he understood now how his brother Oliver had loved Rachel for a decade before they'd married. Until he’d met Sarah, he’d thought keeping interest in one woman forever just some fantasy his mother talked about.
Sarah’s lips held the promise of hope.
After the kiss ended, she leaned against his chest and asked, “How did this happen to me?”
His mind was blank and for once he couldn’t figure out what she meant. “What?”
She sucked in her bottom lip and batted her eyes like they were thirteen and just learning to flirt. “You. All my life I scoffed at the idea that someone might come and entirely change my life, for the better.”
Before their jailhouse marriage, she hadn’t been in physical danger. No one had been out to kill her, just for being married to him--he wasn’t sure "better" was the right word. Beau shook his head. “I dragged you to a country where neither of us really know anything. This situation with Mariam could be dangerous for both of us.”
She licked her lips and stared at his mouth. “I wouldn’t be anywhere else. I came to be with you.”
Did she want another kiss? He traced her back and tested the waters with a gentle touch. “I’d have already packed," he gestured to their suitcase, "if I knew you were waiting for me at home.”
Another song, this time an old fast-dance beat, blared in the air and she stepped out of his embrace. It was like a cold wind hit him as she turned off the music from her phone and set it back on the table. “I like that we’re helping your father.”
“Why?” He walked beside her, near the bed. His lips ached to kiss her neck.
She ran her fingers in his short hair and pressed closer like she wanted him too as she said, “He was kind to me. After discussing you, we also talked about my life and what I might do next. He encouraged me to talk to you about me going to college.”
Beau backed up, not wanting to ever give the impression that he’d force her or manipulate her. “You should. What are you going to study?”
She sat on the edge of the bed. “Nothing that interests most people.”
He sat down but kept two feet between them as he leaned away from her on the bed to stretch his shoulders. “What would that be?”
She scooted closer. “The job probably won’t even exist in the future.”
His heart beat faster. Why was she coming closer? His mind raced as he imagined her naked next to him. “What is it?”
“Museum Studies.” She stilled, her face slightly red.
Seriously? He’d studied computer engineering and worked with computers so he could ensure the Bentley tech sectors soared, and while he understood his job, he also understood the biggest part of his job was recruiting the best people worldwide. Sarah’s sharp eye had for months been a bles
sing in his life. “That job exists now and you’ll have a promise of a huge benefactor for whoever hires you.”
She bumped into his shoulder as she said, “I just want to ensure people have the opportunity to see glimpses of life before computers.”
“Like your life was.” He didn't really think through his response before he spoke.
Her intake of breath was audible and then she pressed her knees into his thighs when she climbed onto the mattress. “I get that I was deprived but you spend hours of your time with your laptop. Don’t you get tired of staring at the bright screen?”
Her closeness made his body grow awake and he was ready to enjoy all of her. Right now. Sarah hadn’t kissed him and they were both fully dressed but he wanted her. Beau didn't move because seduction wasn’t his plan, not yet anyway. Slow and steady for Sarah. “It’s not a big deal and I have lots of incentive to finish work and enjoy my life.”
Her smile was like the sun just rose in the sky as she raised her hand and demonstrated her words. “You mean you can do anything with the snap of your fingers, Your Highness.”
Yet he couldn’t earn her trust just from words or gestures. “Not anything.”
Her eyebrows rose as she asked, “What is missing?”
“You.” He pressed his hand against her arm.
She traced his biceps and let out a small sigh. “You and I don’t make sense on paper.”
Again the idea that she wanted him hit him hard from her sudden touching, like a rock smashing off the roof and onto his head. “I don’t care what logic says.”
She pressed her hands on both his cheeks. “I don’t want to think about the future anymore.”
If she wanted him to stop, she’d tell him. Sarah had a voice and she was well used to stating her opinions. His heart raced as he came closer and his lips were an inch from hers as he said, “Then let’s start trusting each other.”
Without another word, he pressed forward and her arms wrapped around his neck. Sarah was closer to being his now and he wanted nothing more than to possess her.
Sarah refused to let go of Beau’s neck and held him in place above her as they were on the bed.
Somehow. Today. Right now. She wanted to know what it would be like to be his.
They were married. There was nothing wrong with the two of them… being together.
His words sang in her ears from earlier. If he loved her, and she thought he did, then she wanted to know what temptation tasted like.
As the kiss ended, the firm grip of his hands around her waist lessened and she held him again, whispering, “Don’t stop, Beau.”
His fingers brushed against the zipper of her dress. He hesitated once he touched it and asked, “Are you sure this is what you want?”
Sure? She’d never wanted anyone like this. Being here, on this bed, and in his arms, was like she’d found heaven already. She didn’t want to break the spell so she whispered, “For me to have you as my own?”
“Yes.” He unzipped the dress.
She arched to help him as he pulled the dress off her body, though they both heard the fabric tear. Drat. He paused but she kept him close. “I want you, Beau. I want you more than I've ever wanted anything or anyone.”
He claimed her mouth and she forgot everything else as he stripped her bare entirely. He stopped and stared at her from her painted white tip toes to her adorable red cheeked face.
What would he think? He had so much more experience than she did and she couldn’t move until he said, “Sarah, I love you.”
Her entire body softened like she was butter on a waffle. She let out a slight intake of breathe and her gaze softened as she nodded. “I think I believe you.”
He was out of his clothes in seconds.
Her eyes rounded at the muscles on his chest, the thickness of his thighs, and she took a quick intake of breath when she saw… it. He was longer and thicker than Aaron. Her face heated. She’d heard that men were different sizes but Beau was clearly super-sized. Instead of just pushing that huge thing inside her, Beau bent forward and kissed her most intimate part.
Her legs widened and she pressed herself into the bed as a shockwave of desire coursed through her. "What are you doing?" Her one and only time hadn't prepared her for this.
Beau used his tongue along with his lips, on her private places. “Just let me taste you.”
“I… wow.” Sarah hadn't expected pleasure.
She tried to tell him, but he acted like he understood her without a word when he said, “Shh…”
And then she let herself go and surrendered to the sensation.
“Beau, Beau, Beau.” She cried out mostly to ground herself, but even that didn't help--it was like she'd lost consciousness from whatever he did to her with that wicked tongue of his.
In a haze of rapture, she welcomed him when he finally joined her, and he brought her back up to another high.
Again her body quaked and another eruption of heat coursed through her.
And once he was done, she swore she died, at least a little.
* * *
Birds chirped through the inch of open window when Sarah next woke up. The gentle breeze in the dark room brushed against her skin with a coolness that made her reach for the covers. Beau held her so he must have slipped back in the bed, but the afternoon sun was fading as the night air returned.
Soon they needed to leave this bedroom for the party. She cuddled into his arms that were wrapped around her, and never wanted to leave his embrace. He massaged her side. “I’m sorry. I might have ripped that dress.”
Her mind buzzed. Right. The dress had ripped, but she didn't care. Sarah couldn’t exactly wear a fancy gown like that around Miami.
The jewels would get her robbed if she stepped outside. She kissed his cheek, but then she saw the shadows of bodies just outside the door. She sat up and pointed with her nose that they weren’t alone. “Don’t be. But it seems I have to shower and get ready.”
He sat up and grabbed his pants. As he slipped them on, he said, “Soon, we’ll be alone again, Sarah.”
She grabbed a robe as any moment her maids would come and help her prepare for the party.
As she'd never had personal maids, she wasn’t quite sure what they’d do other than set up the place while she showered. She wrapped the robe around her and went to her tiptoes to kiss Beau's cheek. “I’m looking forward to it, sheereen-am.”
He kissed her one more time, and she forgot that anyone was waiting for her.
Time disappeared.
If only they could stay on whatever high she was on--endorphins? This must have been what the other wives meant when joking about pleasure and happiness. With a smile, she walked Beau to the door and watched him leave.
Servants filed in with hair irons, fabrics and jewels.
She ignored them all as she heard a song in her head and headed toward the shower, imagining all the ways she would be a good wife to Beau.
Freshly showered, Sarah stepped into the room where five different outfits were laid out in presentation. Emeralds. Rubies. Sapphires. Gorgeous necklaces, rings, bracelets, earrings were all hung together with matching outfits. It was difficult to choose but Beau had complimented her in green before, so she settled on the green and orange silk dress with emeralds. Servants moved the others out of the way with fast efficiency.
A lady's maid helped her into an emerald encrusted bra that belonged on one of those runway shows she’d flipped past on TV at Beau’s house. “I wish one of you spoke English.”
A young woman smiled as she buffed Sarah’s nails. “I do, Your Highness.”
Sarah’s heart beat faster. Beau was right that the servants must all want them to be royalty again as they kept calling them by the royal titles. Sarah didn’t question the designation. “What’s your name?”
“Fatima.” The woman's smile showed off her perfectly white teeth.
A friend here would be nice. “Fatima, it’s nice to meet you. Please call me Sarah.”<
br />
The woman’s nose turned into her shoulder like she’d hide herself in her black silk outfit embroiled with a gold thread. “I cannot, Your Highness.”
She wanted the Bentleys to win their crown back and have the means to protect themselves from Mariam. This meant acknowledging royalty, and that she was a part of the royal family. “I understand. Well, how did you learn English?”
Fatima continued with her nails and showed her an orange or green color of polish. Sarah pointed to the orange as Fatima said, “School. Many here speak multiple languages.”
No one she knew was bilingual, except the Bentleys. It seemed she was in the minority as she smiled and said, “That’s a gift.”
Fatima began to paint her nails. “Is it true you were born poor?”
Poor wasn’t the right way to describe her life. Maybe she hadn’t had much, but she hadn’t felt poor, despite her cereal meals as she thought that was normal in life. She shook her head and said, “No, not exactly, but I wasn’t born with luxury and opulence around me.”
Fatima finished with one hand and started on the other. “I see. And you married His Highness while he was falsely imprisoned?”
In Miami it was hard to imagine the Bentleys as royalty. In this palace where each tile of the wall was hand-carved, she could understand. “Yes. That’s true.”
Fatima smiled as she continued with her nails. “He credits you for saving his life.”
Sarah’s hand twitched. Where had Fatima gotten that idea? She tensed her shoulders like she’d jump into fire to save Beau from more danger. “I don’t… didn’t…. I don’t think that’s true.”
Fatima touched up the left hand with a dab of orange as someone else combed out her hair. “I see," Fatima said. "Well, you look lovely, Your Highness.”
Flawless wasn’t her normal aim, but here as a princess ensuring she looked perfect was clearly part of the job description so she smiled and said, “Everyone does an amazing job.”
Fatima started with the last layer on her right hand. “We’re voting for the king to return. If the royal family accepts you, then maybe they are open-minded toward all of us. The current regime doesn’t use money to give back to its poorer citizens and many are starving.”
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