“Ah.” Raul looked at the king, his inside clutching, did the young prince know?
“You know what she is, don’t you?” The king questioned, and Carter’s shoulders stiffened as fire flashed through his green eyes. Oh, there was no doubt about it.
“Her career choice does not define her, Grandfather. I have had my eyes on her for the past eight months for other reasons, but seeing as I now also have a line to continue, I realized that there is no one better to raise my child. She will be paid well to be discreet about her lifestyle when the child is older to be aware. If she wishes to terminate her job, then so be it,” Carter stated calmly; too calmly.
“Then you could have made no better choice, my child.”
The old man beckoned to Raul, and the bodyguard transferred the message to their driver, Miguel. Because of the wise king that he was, he had been secretly observing his grandson’s admiration for the beautiful Jamaican, and had removed the tradition of marrying royalty, or marrying at all to produce an heir. The king hadn’t created a diversion at Carter’s Las Vegas office for the fun of it; he had known that Rochelle and the Australian shipping tycoon would have been in the area tonight, and exactly where.
“What game are you playing at, Grandfather?” Carter questioned, as the limo pulled closer to the cinema.
“Rochelle Jones is sitting in the lounge of this building,” King Rafael stated, and grinned mischievously. “What is it these Americans say? Give it your best shot,” he finished, answering his own question.
Carter’s eyes narrowed, as Miguel opened the limo door. “Call them off; now, Grandfather.”
King Rafael shrugged and gave Raul the okay. “What about your bodyguards?” He questioned, gesturing to the two former federal agents with earphones plugged into their ears.
“They can scope out the place and then leave. I’m strapped, I’ll be fine for tonight,” he murmured, and nodded to his grandfather as they alighted from the vehicle.
Chapter Four
“Their eyes met, and in an instant, with an inexplicable, only half conscious rush of emotion, they were in perfect communion.”
—F. Scott Fitzgerald
“Ok, look. Whenever I hear people say that they felt ‘sparks,’ I usually think it’s a load of poo. I mean, I have felt attraction to people, sure, and I have even felt some instant lust. But sparks? Please… Then he touched my skin. Sparks. Sparks. Sparks. Hot sparks. Flashing sparks. Lightning bolt sparks. Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, sparks.”
—Alice Clayton
ROCHELLE RAISED HER BROWS as two very tall men scoped out the crowd. She knew their type well; her father often had them joined to his hips. Her eyes narrowed as she took in their dark suits, wires, and almost invisible weapons.
There was a difference with these two though, she thought, as they melted into the crowd, freely going through wallets and purses, and speaking into their watches. These were no one-time bouncers, they were well-trained in their jobs, and that meant that this was someone very important. Rolling her eyes, she turned and froze as green eyes captured her amber ones.
“I see you have met my bodyguards,” he murmured, his accent washing over her; he was no American, she quickly concluded. Her eyes drew to his fingers when they touched his ear; determination shone brightly in his eyes, and she shivered. She swallowed shakily, as her lips dried and a buzz ran through her body: attraction. “You can take the night off, now,” he commanded.
If she could have, she would have reached out her tongue to moisten her lips, but for the first, Rochelle was tongue tied, as her eyes roved over him. What she saw she couldn’t comprehend. Yes, she had seen her fair share of gorgeousness in her time, but this… This man was breath-taking. The buzz of electricity that was rapidly rushing through her was too great to ignore or to even dare deny. Her nipples beaded at the thought of his handsome face contorting in ecstasy, and his large body pressing her slender one onto a firm surface. Her eyes latched onto his lips, and her fantasies ran a million mile a second.
I’m never supposed to feel this way—
You have no choice, Lust interrupted her internal thought.
In this business, I can’t afford— she begun to protest.
You’ve never fallen for any before… Pride trailed off.
There’s never been any that has never been prearranged—Reason pointed out.
But you’ve denied plenty either way, her heart grumbled.
Yes, but something tells me that this one is different. I can’t risk it, she answered mentally.
Nobody’s asking you to, Reason pointed out frankly, but she didn’t feel that way.
I have no choice… Her body cried.
✽✽✽
Carter swallowed as her amber eyes dilated in the dimmed light; her lips parted and his groin tightened. She was more striking up-close than looking at her from across the room. Nothing gave her exquisiteness justice, and only a fool would refuse to take a second glance, or four, at this amazing gift.
The cameras of his aides had done nothing to capture her majestic beauty. Their lack of efficacy was now his undoing, because he had never coached himself to confront this form of undiluted ambrosia. No elixir could have prepared him for this boutonniere. He wanted to reach out and seize her as a Paleolithic man would, but he had to remember his fine upbringing, which forced him to have panache, élan, and tact, but never leaving out enough ruthlessness to pin down his target. A target who didn’t even know, or stood any chance against him.
And oh how he wanted to pin her to his wall, bed, coffee table…
Quickly, he pulled himself from the clutches of lust to claim his prize; one that had no idea she belonged to him.
✽✽✽
Rochelle swallowed as a stray lock of hair fell onto his forehead and his eyes dilated. She knew that look all too well, and she wanted him too, so badly. She took in his flared nostrils as he struggled to contain his arousal, or was it hers that he smelled? Her groin tightened at the thought as her eyes continued to convey the message that her lips dared not to, for by right, she was already unavailable tonight.
Tell that to my body, and this heart that aims to beat its way out of my chest, she thought mournfully.
Her nails curled into her palms as his cologne wrapped around her and her eyes focused on his lips, her breathing going shallow. She felt like begging him to take her across the bar as so many other patrons were freely doing.
She frowned unconsciously; what was wrong with her? She wondered, as heat poured out of every pore on her body; could he feel it? She questioned herself, as her nipples pinched tightly against the material of her dress. Oh, she had felt allure before, but not like this, never like this. No chemicals were pumping through her blood to enhance her senses; neither was there any contact from either party in any suggestive manner.
I must be going mad, she thought.
Then he must be too, and you can see it clearly, Lust breathed back. Just absorb it, love; for this you need not push any pills.
How is that normal? She questioned internally.
You don’t know normal, dear; the life you’ve lived isn’t and it will never be… But maybe- just maybe, this one could be a game changer, Lust cajoled.
✽✽✽
Carter reached out to brush his knuckles against her cheek. Electricity zapped through every cell of his body, as if it was sucking current from her body and depositing it in his. He wasn’t the only one who felt it. Her shiver was too palpable to hide, and he smiled in response.
“You feel it too?” He murmured in a deep baritone and she nodded timidly. His voice sounded gravelly, but calm to his ears, and he wondered how that could be when he felt as if he was about to explode in his chinos. He wasn’t sure that if she reached out and stroked him, he would last until her fingers reached their target.
He swallowed shakily, and attempted to reassure her- understanding her delicacy as a female- because he was sure that she could feel the sexual tension reeking from his body.
“I don’t normally do this, cara, but I feel as if…” Carter paused, as slim fingers touched his lips with a slight tremble, which would be her first bold act of many for the night.
“No need to explain. Just take me home,” she whispered, understanding that it made no sense to play pompous and deny her body of the only opportunity of choosing her bed partner. She sighed, satisfied when a boyishly handsome smile broke on his lips, slowly stretching from one sensual side of his mouth to the other, causing heat to pool between her thighs as she watched it. His smile said, ‘Fuck me, I’m game’ and her body gave a shuddering response. This man was no pretender; he knew what he wanted when he saw it, and right now, he wanted her.
Oh, he’ll leave as soon as he finds out who you really are, a voice snickered, and for a second, she was deflated, and the lights dimmed in her eyes, leaving Carter to wonder if he had lost her.
Not today. Tonight you will not win, she breathed determinedly, as she plowed on. She swallowed and swept up her broken courage from the thick carpet as she looked around the room. There were hundreds of other women here, some possibly light years more beautiful than I, and they came for no other reason but to indulge in undiluted sex. So it matters not to him who I am, she returned proudly, and the voice faltered.
A triumphed smile passed over her lips and he released a relieved breath as her fingers brushed over his soft bottom lip.
Carter cupped her velvet cheek and leaned forward, inhaling her vanilla essence before claiming her lips.
Rochelle’s breath stopped as she tasted rich whiskey and a warm, electric hand cupped her nape. She gasped to drag in a breath in an attempt to feed her oxygen-starved brain, which gave his tongue access to instantly penetrate the warm cravenness of her mouth.
Her hands reached up to grip his broad shoulders as he angled his head to get a deeper access to her mouth with promises of much more to come. A moan resonated from deep within her when he hauled her off the seat and against his solid frame causing her knees to buckle. Imagine what that tongue could do to her body! Wild images immediately began penetrating her mind and her hands sought the warmth of his skin beneath them.
✽✽✽
Reluctantly, Carter eased back, as his throbbing length began to press determinedly into the softness of her abdomen, and smiled at her whimper of protest. He groaned as her thick lashes parted to reveal to him the desire in her distended, darkened eyes. “I better take you to my home, before I change my mind and take you across this bar,” he muttered, smiling when she blushed, because he knew that she had been thinking just that.
“I doubt the bartender would even notice,” she replied, motioning to the multiple females pinned against their stools, with legs wrapped eagerly around their partners’ waists.
“Not my style,” he stated, simply. “But how would he be able to not notice a beautiful creature as yourself?” He murmured huskily, and raised one of her hands to his lips, gently running his lips against her wrist. She couldn’t help but to shiver. “A lady must be draped across my furniture, against my walls, my floorboards, and my shower stalls in ecstasy and total abandonment, for my eyes only,” he claimed darkly, a dangerous glint in his eyes as he said the latter, after nipping the sensitized skin at her wrist.
Her pulse kicked into overdrive; her breathing stalled momentarily.
“If you don’t stop that, I can’t promise to be a lady,” she whispered breathlessly against his ear, and felt his groan. She smiled, as he laced his fingers with hers and electric currents shot up her arm.
“Let’s go,” he mouthed, as he pulled her towards the exit door.
He looked down at her, frowning, when she tugged at his hand. “What’s wrong?” He questioned, when he saw her worried look.
“I can’t be seen leaving with you; my father…”
The owner of the Hummingbird Club, Carter mentally acknowledged as he nodded, taking her towards the secret exit at the back.
His bodyguards had briefed him on the direction before they had left; it led to the underground parking lot so that he would have direct access to his cars.
He washed his eyes over her, and noted her relief with some worry. He had heard that Percival Jones was no pushover, and he didn’t hold back on his temper when she angered him, but he hadn’t fully believed it. He hadn’t, because all of that could’ve only been classified as rumors, as there had never been any reports to the police from neither his daughter nor her mother. But that fear, mixed with her hesitation moments ago, had his blood turning to ice from anger.
✽✽✽
Rochelle released a slow breath of relief as he inclined his head in acknowledgment to her request, and carried her towards a deeper part of the cinema. They paused briefly near what seemed like a painting, but was really a hologram, and he typed in a code; the wall slid open.
“I never knew that was there,” she said in awe, as he gestured to the door.
“Security method; keeps nosy journalists wondering where the scoop went when they’re tailing them; if they got in in the first place,” he muttered, placing his hand in the small of her back. “Cold?” He questioned, when she shivered again.
“No,” she whispered breathlessly, and his fingers flexed slightly, knowingly on her skin.
He touched another ‘invisible’ panel, and lights lit up a path to a shiny, black Cadillac, and she drew a breath. She could imagine that wherever they were was filled with multiple vehicles owned by the patrons.
“After you,” he stated, opening the passenger door after unlocking the car.
“Thank you,” she said with a smile, as he tucked her into the seat and closed her door. So much fire, yet still he manages to be a gentleman.
You might have bagged a rare creature, love. Hang onto him for a bit, Pride stated.
That choice is not mine to make. We only have until three, she reminded.
Ok, Cinderella, Lust chuckled.
She looked across at him as he took his place around the wheel, noticing that he kept touching her to a minimum. They both knew what would happen if any part of them brush now.
Rochelle could feel her breasts swelling, and her nipples hardening again, tighter than before. She drew a very unsteady breath. Stealing a glance at his breath-taking profile, she saw his jaw clench. She shyly looked away, forcing herself to not look down at his lap. She could already see how her presence was affecting him from his body language, and she remembered quite vividly how hard he had felt pressed into the softness of her tummy.
She would have to watch herself, and remember not to become attached, she thought as she felt the band of attraction tighten within the car as he turned the key in the ignition. She looked at him once more, knowing that this man was the type you could fall for without even realizing that you had. This one was dangerous.
“Stop looking at me like that, Rochelle, or we might not leave this spot for some time,” he murmured, as he changed gears; his long fingers wrapped around the gear shift and her vaginal muscles quivered as he pulled the car out of the lot. Straightaway, she realized where they were as they pulled onto the street.
Rochelle ran her fingers nervously along the high split of her deep purple gown as they left the cinema behind. Who is this man? She wondered, panic setting in for a brief moment as she glanced at his powerful hand on the steering wheel and the other on the gear shift between them; her body tingling every time that he changed gears.
Drawing a breath, she looked through the darkly tinted window, taking in the city lights as she tried to figure out why she felt like she could trust this man. She stole a glance at him once more, as they overtook a long line of cars to turn into a heavily gated driveway. As she tried to catch her breath from his adrenalin-inducing drive, he touched something on the flat screen on the dashboard, connecting to the gate’s controls before typing in his code. She raised a brow, this man was really high profile; she doubted that the United States president had this form of technology at his fingertips.
[A pity that
she didn’t know that it was this very man that provided it to him: shhh, it’s a secret between us ;D.]
She watched him stab in numbers that didn’t even stay on the screen for a nanosecond, before turning into asterisks.
This man wasn’t supposed to be exposed to any form of danger, she realized, as two uniformed men stood by the gate while it slid open, allowing them entrance. They were scanning the surroundings with a shrewdness that she couldn’t fathom her father possessing, and he’s damn shrewd.
Who was this man? And why the fierce attraction between them? She pondered.
She balled her hands into tiny fists, as another car pulled up behind them, and the men froze, placing their hands on their hips, where she was sure their weapons laid. She swallowed and threw a look his way; he seemed overly calm and collected, and she relaxed somewhat, weirdly trusting his subconscious judgment.
Rochelle looked out the window once more, but this time, wondering if they were bulletproof. She glanced at him once again when he wound down his window before speaking to the guard, on the right side of the gates, in a language that she couldn’t comprehend. The only thing she caught was ‘yes, sir’ as they drove off.
“Sorry about that, that was just the security detail for the Venezuelan president; we have a breakfast meeting,” he stated, and changed gears, bringing his fingers daringly close to her exposed thigh.
With a blush, she looked away from his long fingers and tried to take in the sprawling building they drove towards, not fully registering his words.
“I thought you said your apartment,” she murmured in awe. She had expected some upscale, compact, condo, but not this breath-taking mansion.
“It is; I own this property, and the flats located beyond it. It’s a very close-knit facility, as we cater for very influential individuals, who regard their safety with the same surety as the next meal.”
Rochelle nodded as they slid into a parking spot in an underground parking lot that housed ten different cars. It was divided into ten different sections, with each section having enough space for about six large cars. They parked perfectly between a Rolls and a Bentley, and she wondered briefly how many of these vehicles were his.
From A Harlot To A Princess Page 4