From A Harlot To A Princess

by Cage Thompson

  “Fuck, Rochelle,” he whispered, as soon as he found his voice.

  “Yeah,” she whispered back, breathlessly. “That you did. I thought my memories exceeded reality, but I was wrong. That was way passed anything I could have ever have imagined.”

  Carter eased back slightly, and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I think we can concretize that fact in a moment,” he stated, his beautiful green eyes darkening. At the look, her breath caught somewhere in her now very dry throat.

  *****

  Rochelle pulled in a sandalwood laden breath, taking in the scent of Carter and sex. Easing onto her elbow, she looked at him and frowned slightly, wondering what had awakened her; then she heard it. Quickly, but gently, she uncurled her limbs from Carter’s as she eased off the large bed and headed to the sight of her cell.

  Without checking the caller ID, she slid her thumb across the screen. Keeping an eye on Carter, she grabbed the robe on the back of the in one synchronized movement. Easing into the robe, she closed the door softly behind her before placing the cell to her ear.

  “Rochelle Jones, speaking,” she answered a little too huskily, thus, she cleared her throat.

  “Mommy, is that you?”

  A shiver ran down her spine as her daughter’s voice reached her.

  She ran a hand through her chestnut curls roughly, suddenly wondering what the hell she was doing. Had she forgotten just who she was supposed to be protecting? She still wasn’t considering telling Carter about Lisa; she couldn’t expose her daughter to that form of uncertainty.

  You just want to keep him your dirty little secret, Jones; this has nothing to do with Alisa at all; you just fear that once he has someone else to give his attention to, you will no longer be loved; just like your father did you, the devil on her shoulder whispered.

  “Mommy, are you there?”

  Rochelle was snapped sharply out of her black hole by her daughter’s voice, but a doubt kept lingering, nudging at the edges of her brain, wanting to force its way out into the open. Could it be true? Was she being selfish because of her past?

  “Yes, baby?” She responded softly, shooting a look at the now closed door.

  Coward, the voice hissed again.

  “Where are you? Remember that you have to be at my concert tonight?” She asked gently, in her angelic voice, her tone laced with concern.

  Coward...

  Rochelle almost told the voice to fuck off, but quickly remembered that her daughter was waiting with bated breath on her response. Pushing away the voice, she dragged her conscience kicking and screaming to the front of the room; she was barely covering her luscious body with a silky sheet, her curls well-tussled, with a perfect Just Dun Fuck look about it. She would be of no help to her either.

  Rochelle groaned and leaned her head against the wall across from the mocking, closed room door. She had totally forgotten about her daughter’s part as the main dancer in the group performance, with a solo of her own. She had no choice; her daughter would always be her main priority.

  “I’ll be there, sweetheart,” she stated. After exchanging the usual affectionate bantering, she severed the call.

  Dragging in a breath, she headed to the room to gather her clothes, hoping that Carter hadn’t stirred. She breathed a sigh of relief when she realized that he was still sprawled across the bed. Quickly donning her clothing, she grabbed her handbag and headed to the garage via the elevator.

  Quickly reversing from their spot, she headed to the airport, hoping that Carter didn’t awake before her flight was airborne.

  Chapter Three

  “Sometimes memories sneak out of my eyes and roll down my cheeks.”

  —Unknown

  ROCHELLE LEANED HER HEAD against the headrest, a feeling akin to despair rushing through her body. She closed her eyes before the tears could spill down her lids.

  What will he think when he wakes up and doesn’t see her? Should she have stopped and say goodbye?

  But he can’t know about Lisa; not right now—

  Then when? Reason questioned, cutting off her internal excuse.

  She rubbed her eyes, struggling to think, wondering if she had made the right decision. She was just as weak for Carter as she had been ten years ago; no doubt she still loved him beyond words.

  There is no simple fix for this, is there? She questioned Reason.

  There never is; love for us is way too complex, she answered back.

  Her hands trembled as she closed her seatbelt when the seatbelt sign lit up after the pilot announced that they were about to take off.

  She drew a breath as they took off smoothly and tried to think positive. She remembered the times when Carter had squeezed her hand reassuringly, knowing her fear of flying.

  Maybe this was what she needed, she tried to reason with herself, a brief coupling with her past to exorcize him from her body and mind so that she could move on. A groan passed her lips as images flashed through her mind; as usual, it had been no brief coupling. It had been hours of fierce, blazing, soul enflaming sex, loaded with emotions in every breath and touch on both sides. She was as hopeless with Carter, as her mother was with her father.

  At least he doesn’t beat the crap out of you, a mean voice snared, and she clenched her teeth; she still couldn’t protect her mother from that if she didn’t even want to protect herself. Percival Jones was an abusive man, through and through; she just thanked the higher powers that he had never once raised his hand on her daughter.

  How can you be sure? You’re not always there… A voice trailed off mentally, causing her heart to squeeze from fear.

  Alisa would’ve said something— She began to shoot back, but was quickly cut off.

  Did you say something? The devil on her shoulder questioned, triggering uncertainty.

  He wouldn’t— she thought, but her voice was no longer as strong.

  Who is there to stop him? Reason questioned pointedly.

  She will never go through what I did— she responded, aggressively as her heart lurched.

  You sure better hope not. He’d never forgive you— she never would… The voice indicated.

  As soon as the thoughts entered her mind, she blotted them out. Carter had allowed her to fight those demons ten years ago, and even though she still couldn’t forgive her father, she wouldn’t dwell on those things. She couldn’t even consider the thought. Her throat tightened at the thought of her father even thinking of restarting the real Hummingbird Club.

  As long as he doesn’t touch my child … She thought, as she drew a shaky breath. God, if there’s anything else I’ve asked for, this cancels it. Nothing is more important than You watching over her.

  She had seen the hateful look in her father’s eyes more than once when his gaze had fallen upon her little girl, however, especially when she was playing with her uncles.

  She sighed, and shook her head, as determination washed through her. She wouldn’t sit back and watch him destroy any more children. This time was different, she was different. Carter had done so much for her, much more than she could ever thank him for in that arena.

  Then why can’t you forgive him for his ONE mistake? Her conscience demanded boldly, and she cringed, unsure whether it was the angel or demon side of her; this one wasn’t dressed in black or white or even a teacher’s stern spectacles. Her mental squad had somehow expanded.

  Either way, she got a quick-fire response from the mental blazing girl on the opposite side by herself, while a gang of others stood to the other side, seemingly a strong opposition. Because holding it against him was the only way she thought she could’ve stopped herself from loving him, so that she could rescue her heart back.

  The majority looked at the blazing girl as the fire lifted her chestnut hair into the shimmering air around her. Then one stepped forward seemingly the leader and from the looks of her, Rochelle had no doubt that this was the sex diva. She came with such authority, but she responded in a calm voice. Yet, once more she has been
proven wrong, hasn’t she? She looked around the courtroom of her conscience, as if for someone. She doesn’t have her heart back. She gestured to an empty seat in the pews. As you can see, her dear heart hasn’t reclaimed her seat among us. He still has her firmly in the middle of his palm, just as he had had ten years ago when she laid eyes on him. Doing who knows what, and I’m not getting any, the sex goddess complained and pouted. Carter indeed held that battered heart somewhere that she couldn’t reach it.

  The judge, who sat between the two groups, looked over her wire-rimmed spectacles, and crossed her legs, showcasing white, fuck-me shoes, with an eyebrow cocked. My dear, it would seem that the opposition has shot down every argument; is there anything else you would like to say to redeem yourself?

  Rochelle closed her eyes and sighed; mentally, she couldn’t defend herself at all. She looked to the blazing girl who now looked less overpowering, her flame dulling to a light blue, the shimmering pulling closer to her body, and Rochelle knew they were both out of their league here. There was no way she could win this internal struggle. She looked at Pride, knowing that they’re right. Ever since that first night, her heart hasn’t been here.

  ✽✽✽

  That night ten and a half years ago, 2008…

  Rochelle ran her tongue over her lips and drew in a breath, as the limo drew to a stop in front of one of the adult cinemas in Las Vegas. It wasn’t the first time that she would be here, but this time, her date didn’t expect her to have sex with him. Patrick just needed a beautiful woman on his arm to distract the media or his family from his supposedly gay lifestyle. And beautiful she was. Her father had marred other parts of her body, but had ensured that he had never touched her face. He always had to ensure that the merchandise was intact. She drew in another breath, trying to forget how close she had come to almost ending up in the hospital the last time she’d dared to disobey her father’s orders.

  Not right now, Rochelle, her mind soothed, as her thoughts started to cause her muscles to stiffen. Mentally shaking off the rigidness of her frame, she brought her mind back to the place that would allow her to get through another one of those nights.

  Pasting on a smile, she reached for Patrick’s hand as he helped her from the car, cameras flashing. Her date tonight was an Australian shipping tycoon, well-known in the media, and gay to boot. However, his family still had hopes of pairing him off with their beach-blonde, leggy, neighbor’s daughter. He was highly reluctant, of course.

  Without a doubt, she knew that by the time they were secured inside and hidden from the paparazzi, Patrick would become lost in the crowd of extravagantly rich individuals, with his partner, Daniel. She would sadly be left in the middle of multiple adult movies.

  “Looking breath-taking as usual, Chelle. I dare say Daniel might be in a full-blown rage from jealousy, if he was a tad uncertain of where my loyalties laid tonight,” he whispered wickedly, and Rochelle sincerely laughed.

  She had to admit that Patrick was an interesting individual, good to hang around, especially because he never expected her to be anyone but herself.

  Dah, dummy, he’s gay, remember? He has eyes only for the other sex; so, he wouldn’t care if you were dressed in a potato sack, a mean voice in the back of her mind stated, and she cringed.

  She had gotten a bad impression of men to begin with… But they can’t be all bad, could they? She wondered, as she tried to push away the negativity floating around in her mind.

  “And you look quite smashing yourself. I’m sure you’ll sweep Daniel right off his feet,” she grinned back, and a flush rose to his cheeks, before a wicked glim entered his eyes.

  “If only he would let me!” He laughed, and Rochelle chuckled. “Just a reminder, we’ll meet in the lounge to leave around three, that’s if no hunk has managed to snatch you up before that,” he whispered suggestively, and she shook her head.

  “He’ll run a mile when he finds out who I am,” she whispered back, and his expression became serious.

  “Rochelle, you are a gem; your occupation does not define you, and any man that does not see that is a damn fool!” He stated, strongly.

  Rochelle blinked and muttered a weak reply, as Patrick pulled her into the crook of his arm and pasted on a smile after telling her to do the same. It was all for the cameras.

  With practiced precision, they made their way forward.

  Rochelle released a breath as the security guard closed the doors behind them, locking out the stress of the world, or not, Rochelle thought, as she took in her surroundings. Hookers twirled on poles, and patrons were openly making out on the multiple seating arrangements in the rooms where anyone could freely participate in sex scenes, as long as the participants agreed. There was no bar on what her eyes could behold.

  “See you at three, unless some lucky guy has sense and snatches you up,” Patrick stated, and kissed her cheek, as Daniel wove his way through the crowd.

  Nodding, she headed to the bar, smiling in acknowledgment when Daniel waved to her. With a sigh, she prepared herself for another long night of loneliness. She wasn’t even sure she wanted what company would bring.

  She looked around the room and blushed profusely, when a strapping male ran his tongue over his lips, while looking at her. Looking away, she hurried to claim a seat at the high counter, hoping that no one decided to give into their animalistic lust beside her.

  ✽✽✽

  Outside, Raul rolled his eyes as the king began to nag his grandson once more, before pressing his lips together dispassionately.

  “You have to understand, Carter; I’m becoming a very old man, and it’s time for you to settle down. To start the next line,” the king murmured in his accent thick.

  The king had been thrown the royal jewels, along with all the responsibilities at twenty-five, when his own father died, while returning from the home of one of his many mistresses. After being the Spanish king for the past sixty-years, Rafael was ready to step aside and let the next generation move the country forward. It would skip one generation however, because King Rafael’s only child, Prince Felipe the Third, and his beautiful American wife, Cathy, had died in a similar car crash. Only they had been coming back from picking up their three-year-old daughter from a friend’s birthday party. The cops had called it a freak accident, but the king had known better. The brake failing and a missing trailer driver had been eerily familiar to what had happened to his father, King Felipe the Second.

  That’s why he was pushing Carter to have children and settle down. He feared that someone was trying to wipe out the dynasty; with Carter removed, he would be the only one left. It would obviously be no hardship to take him out. Why they hadn’t yet, was still a mystery to the old king.

  “Grandfather, I have no wish to settle just yet. My electronics and software companies are just stabilizing after America’s stock market plummeted,” he stated flatly, as if the issue was closed to discussion, before rolling his finger over the ball to awaken his cell. “And you have not aged a day over the past ten years; I don’t know what you’re fussing about.” Carter’s eyes lifted and narrowed in the interior of the limo as he turned to his grandfather, taking in the shallow wrinkles on the otherwise even face- King Rafael aged beautifully. “You aren’t ill, are you?” The prince demanded, immediately dialing a number and bringing the cell to his ear. His grandfather briefly closed his eyes in despair.

  “And if I am?” The older man muttered, and Raul rolled his eyes once more, gaining a sharp look from the king as Carter listened to the person on the other end of the line.

  “Then, I’ll find the best doctor- wherever in the world he or she is,” Carter stated firmly, looking all of his twenty-three years, and then some.

  “My child, trust me on this; even if you’re not ready to settle, find a woman and give her your child. Find a million if you must, but ensure an old man that his lineage will continue,” King Rafael stated, holding his grandson’s hand.

  Raul looked between the king and prince,
and saw the younger man’s eyes narrowing as he analyzed the older. Immediately, the bodyguard knew that they had grossly underestimated the young prince’s intelligence.

  “There is something wrong, and it has nothing to do with a physical or mental illness. What is it? And do not lie to me, Grandfather,” Carter stated, with a steely tone hiding in the gentleness of his voice. It was obvious that the king could no longer hide the truth from the prince, nor could he part the news gently. From the expression on Carter’s face, he wanted nothing sugar-coated.

  “Your parents and sister’s deaths were no accident, neither was your great-grandfather’s, and I fear that you are next.”

  Carter raised a brow. “And with me gone, there is nothing stopping them from reaching you, taking the kingdom with them,” Carter stated flatly, the bones working in his jaw.

  “Yes, I fear for you and the kingdom’s people,” the old man answered, though Carter had never asked a question.

  “What do you suggest?” Carter questioned, causing Raul’s brows to rise, he had not expected the playboy billionaire to concede so quickly.

  “We tried the traditional route and that didn’t work. So, I’m leaving it up to you to find the mother(s) of your children,” the king stated flippantly, touching his grandchild’s shoulder gently.

  “I was hoping that you would say that,” Carter grinned, and Raul’s eyes narrowed; that’s why he had agreed so quickly.

  “You had your eyes on someone,” the king stated, and the young man nodded.

  “Rochelle Jones,” he murmured, his voice full of determination, as if he dared his grandfather to contradict him on his stance.