In the hours since she’d met Finn, she’d found herself even more curious.
She’d been expected to marry young to a suitable man of noble birth chosen for her by her parents. Her refusal to marry any of the palace-approved contenders had meant she had stayed single—and celibate—for far longer than might have been expected. She’d also had a full year in mourning for her brother, and had been uninterested in dating during those dark days.
In retrospect, it was fortunate that she hadn’t allowed herself to be talked into marrying any of those ‘suitable’ men who’d proposed. Tristan had recently had the rules changed to allow Montovian royals to marry commoners, so he could marry Gemma, an Australian chef. The new rule hadn’t really been tested, though, as Gemma had discovered a connection to British royalty. But Natalia was now, in theory, allowed to marry who she wanted.
However, the King and Queen were resisting that idea when it came to their daughter. The ace they held in their hand was that she had to get their permission to marry, whether the man was royal or not. So had Carl. As had Tristan. And Natalia knew they had a nerdy twenty-two-year-old duke lined up for her to meet when she got home. She’d promised to be nice to him, as the only other aristocrat on offer was his widowed uncle the Grand Duke, who’d just had a double hip replacement.
Now, she squirmed in her seat with the effort of keeping a discreet distance from Finn in the back seat of the car. She wanted more kisses. More caresses. More Finn. Her nipples tightened at the thought of it. And when he reached across the seat to take her hand in his she nearly jumped through the roof of the car at the sensual thrill that simple touch ignited.
There was another reason she was still a virgin at twenty-seven. She hadn’t met anyone who had tempted her. If she had, she might have defied duty and lost her virginity before. But no man had aroused her desire.
Until now.
* * *
Finn prided himself on his ability to stay in control under any circumstance. He didn’t permit himself to be distracted by emotion. His cool level-headedness in negotiation was one of the reasons he was so successful in business. Plus, he had an instinct to know when to take a strategic risk—perhaps honed by all those childhood games of mah-jong with his grandfather.
But the feelings that surged through him now, just holding hands with Natalie, had him stymied. He wanted her so badly he ached. As a rule, he was cautious about trusting strangers. He’d learned that in both his business and personal life. But in Natalie’s case caution simply didn’t come into it. He didn’t know her, and yet he felt he knew all he needed to know.
However Eliza wouldn’t have warned him off her without reason. Every instinct shouted that Natalie might not be telling him everything about herself. But he didn’t care.
He just wanted her.
In the back seat of the limo it was all he could do to stay a respectable distance from her. Her fingers entwined with his was their only contact. Her dress had ridden up over her knees, despite her efforts to keep it modestly tugged down, treating him to an enticing glimpse of bare, slender thighs. When the driver took a corner sharply she slid closer, so her thigh nudged his. He had to invoke every ounce of restraint not to reach out and put his hand on her bare skin, push the skirt higher.
Lustful thoughts fogged his brain, but another insistent thought wound its way through the want and the need. This woman was special. It wasn’t just about sex. She fascinated him. He hadn’t believed the so-called psychic when she’d predicted a future for him and Natalie. Yet one crazy, unrestrained part of him wanted to.
It was all he could do not to pull her into his arms and take advantage of the privacy the back seat allowed. But he’d noticed Natalie’s quick, nervous glances at their driver. The back seat was not private enough for her and he respected that. This had happened unexpectedly. He would let her lead the way. Whatever she was willing to give, he was willing to take.
He was surprised when the car pulled up in front of a five-star hotel in one of the best locations in the city—right on the edge of the harbour, situated between the icons of the Sydney Harbour Bridge and the Opera House. Somehow he had expected more modest accommodation—but then this limousine was hardly a budget ride ordered from an app.
It seemed the world of fashion was treating Natalie well. Which, to his relief, put paid to any lingering thought that she might be interested in what he had rather than who he was. As far as he knew, they were total strangers who had met by chance at a wedding. How could she know the extent of his wealth?
She thanked the driver graciously as the man held the door open for her. Then turned to wait for Finn to follow her out of the car. He nodded his thanks to the driver, but in truth he hardly noticed the guy. And he scarcely took in the elegant hotel entrance, the glass walls that looked directly through to the water, the uniformed doormen...
Natalie. She was the only sight that interested him and he could not keep his eyes off her.
She was flushed high on her cheekbones and her mouth, swollen from his kisses, was parted in an enigmatic half-smile. Her gaze was as focused on him as his was on her. Her eyes were the most extraordinary shade of iris-blue—he had only seen eyes like them before on one other person, although he couldn’t for the life of him remember who it was.
Not that it mattered. Natalie’s eyes were the only eyes that interested him. Ditto Natalie’s face. Natalie’s body. Natalie’s soul. He wanted to discover more about her, to know what made her tick, nail down what it was about her that he found so extraordinarily appealing. He was tense, coiled—impatient to be alone with her. And not just for this evening. For the remainder of her stay in Sydney.
He could not let himself think beyond that, much as his thoughts strained to go there.
Gritting his teeth against his impatience, he followed her through the foyer of the hotel, all marble and glass and luxury appointments. ‘So, what’s it to be?’ he asked, forcing himself to sound laid-back. ‘The bar? Coffee?’
Her flush deepened and she looked down before she looked up. Natalie was a hot, sexy woman, and he suspected she would give as good as she got in bed. Yet there was a reticence in her that made her even more appealing.
He would enjoy peeling back the layers of her personality as much as he would enjoy peeling that pink dress from her body. It closed with a long zipper at the back—he’d done a recce on it when she had been kissing him so sensationally behind those pots of orchids.
‘I thought, perhaps, my room,’ she said. ‘We could order room service. Whatever you want.’
He pulled her close enough to whisper in her ear. ‘I don’t want coffee. I only want you. Your room sounds like a great idea.’
Finn felt a shiver go through her. It wasn’t the cold this time. With a rising sense of elation he realised her shiver was one of anticipation.
He was exalted by a feeling that had nothing to do with reason, rationality, common sense. Tonight might be the start of something that switched him to a different track. Despite the odds—and her living in another country—Natalie could become someone so much more than a time-stamped encounter at a wedding.
‘Let’s go, then,’ she murmured as she slipped her hand into his.
They had the elevator to themselves. He only let her go long enough for her to tap the key card for her room number before he pulled her to him in a hungry, urgent kiss. With a murmur of need and pleasure that made his heart thud she kissed him back with equal urgency, looping her arms around his neck and drawing him closer.
Three walls and the ceiling of the elevator were mirrored, and he could see her reflection in all of them—sexy, vibrant Natalie, in her clinging pink dress, all curves and blonde hair tumbling untamed down her back.
He felt his life had been lived in black and white until she had flashed into it in a glorious kaleidoscope of glittering blue eyes and shiny red lips and the flash of diamonds from her ear
rings. He was enveloped by her as she pressed her curves against him, as he breathed in her heady scent—all his senses were invaded and overwhelmed by the urgency of his need for her.
When the elevator doors glided open they were both momentarily stunned by the interruption. She broke the kiss, looked up at him from the circle of his arms, and started to laugh—a delightful sound that prompted a smile from him in response. He didn’t let her go, rather walked her out of the elevator, mumbled a question about the direction of her room, and then kissed her again.
He joined in her laughter as they kissed and stumbled their way up the corridor. Alternating laughter with kisses, they staggered to her room—a spacious suite with glass doors to a balcony framing a view of the harbour and the night-lit Opera House. An enormous bed dominated the room.
They were finally alone, and their laughter faded, vanquished by kisses of increasing intensity, their breath coming in gasps and sighs.
‘I... I haven’t done this before,’ Natalia murmured, somewhere between him caressing her through her dress and locating the pull of her zipper.
Hadn’t taken a man back to her hotel room on such short acquaintance? Something about the edge of nervousness to her voice led him to believe her.
‘You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,’ he said.
‘Er... I—I haven’t lived this dangerously, I mean,’ she said, stuttering a little.
‘Let me help you enjoy life on the edge,’ he said, tugging on her zipper.
‘You’re still my tutor?’
‘Always,’ he said.
He pulled down the zipper, the sound of it echoing in the empty room, and started to push her dress off her shoulders, making each movement a caress. He kissed along the delicate hollows of her throat, across her shoulders, down towards the swell of her breasts.
She gasped with surprised pleasure. Then shrugged her shoulders to help him free her of her dress. It slid to the floor, where it pooled around her feet before she stepped out of it, leaving her in a lacy pink bra and panties. He drew in a breath of admiration and excitement. Her body was perfection—creamy skin, curves in the right places, long slender legs.
She went to kick off her stilettoes. ‘Leave them,’ he said, scarcely able to choke out the words. He had never seen a sexier, more beautiful sight than Natalie clad in just her underwear and her high-heeled shoes.
* * *
For Natalia, being stripped down to her underwear in front of a man was something new, but she found she wasn’t nervous. Instinctively, she trusted Finn to guide her through this momentous journey. Besides, she was too caught up in the moment to worry about what might come next. Kissing Finn, she was overwhelmed by sensation, by the promise of his hard, muscular body intimately close to hers, the pleasure his clever hands and mouth were giving her.
Even his most fleeting touch ignited starbursts of sensation, made her throb in places she hadn’t known could throb. She wanted more. So much more. Finn.
‘We need to even the score here,’ she murmured, impatient with the feel of his jacket against her exposed skin. She ached for skin on skin.
With hands that weren’t quite steady she pushed aside his jacket. He took over, sliding his arms out of the sleeves, tossing the jacket without aim so that it fell discarded on the carpet. She went to unfasten his dress shirt and found not buttons but fiddly studs that presented a momentary setback. She fumbled through with a semblance of confidence—she didn’t want him to guess this was the first time she’d undressed a man—then got the bow tie unfurled and discarded.
Silently Finn held up his hands and she saw that his sleeves fastened with cufflinks in the shape of tiny compasses—white gold with black stones she realised were black diamonds. No tossing those on the floor. She hastily placed them and the bow tie on the narrow table set along the wall, impatient to strip him of his shirt.
As she pushed his shirt off his shoulders and to the floor Natalia gasped. She had to quickly disguise her sudden intake of breath as a cough. Finn bare-chested was even more impressive than Finn fully clothed. Broad shoulders, sculpted arms, chest firmly defined, his belly flat and taut, with just a dusting of dark body hair. His olive skin was smooth and warm beneath her touch.
She took a step back to feast her eyes on him. ‘You are the most beautiful man,’ she murmured, scarcely able to get the words out with the quickening of her breath. She felt almost faint with desire.
‘Beautiful?’ he said, with a quirk of his dark brows. ‘That’s a word I’d apply to you, the most beautiful woman at the wedding. Now I have you all to myself.’
‘A man can be beautiful, can’t he? But I’ll say handsome if you prefer. Though even handsome isn’t enough to describe your...your perfection.’
‘I’m blushing,’ he said.
But he wasn’t. He was smiling. And his eyes narrowed further with a look of intensity that let her know she was about to be kissed again. Eager for his touch, she parted her lips to welcome him, pressed herself closer to him, her softness against his strength.
When he cupped her breast in his hand she almost screamed with the pleasure of it. In turn, she explored him, his skin smooth and warm over hard muscles, his reaction letting her know he enjoyed what she was doing. She kissed a trail down his throat and he moaned his appreciation. His reaction excited her, taking her to heights she hadn’t known existed.
There wasn’t much clothing left between them, and as she felt Finn grasp the fastening of her bra she realised there soon wouldn’t be even that. She plucked up the courage to find the fastening of his belt, with the aim of undoing it, but it wasn’t as straightforward as she’d thought. It was impossible to concentrate on anything other than the sensations Finn was arousing in her.
Her legs were beginning to buckle beneath her from the intensity of her pleasure, the ache of anticipation. That big bed was beckoning.
She broke away from the kiss. Finn followed the direction of her gaze. ‘Yes,’ he said.
Effortlessly, he swept her up in his arms.
‘You...you’re going to carry me to the bed?’
She’d thought this kind of thing only happened in movies. The thrill was immeasurable. She couldn’t wait to be initiated by Finn into the mysteries of making love.
‘That’s my intention,’ he said. He paused. ‘But first, protection.’
Protection? For a moment she didn’t realise what he meant. Protection in case he dropped her? Then it dawned on her. She hadn’t ever been in need of the kind of protection he meant.
She couldn’t meet his gaze, rather looked out over his shoulder at the view of Sydney Harbour. ‘I...er... I’m not protected.’
He groaned. ‘I wasn’t expecting... I don’t have anything.’
‘Then we can’t—?’
‘No. But no doubt the hotel stocks—’
‘You...you mean order them from room service?’ she said faintly.
‘Or visit the concierge,’ he said.
Natalia stilled in his arms as the full impact of what they were discussing hit her. She couldn’t do this. What had seemed romantic, rebellious and rather racy suddenly seemed very, very foolish. There would be consequences if she flaunted the rules. Protection was called protection for a reason. Protection against pregnancy being one of them.
She was a royal princess. What if she got pregnant from a vacation fling—for that was all it could be with Finn. What if she were recognised? What if someone saw Finn go down to the concierge to buy protection and then go up to her room?
She wanted Finn. Wanted him so badly that for a moment there she’d almost been prepared to take the risk of saying yes to no protection. But she couldn’t have him. Not like this.
Duty. Honour. Responsibility. Doing the right thing. They were values ingrained in her very being. How could she ever have thought she could evade them? She was the Princess of
Montovia and as such she did not have flings. She might be pretending to be just an ordinary girl but she wasn’t.
The rules and restrictions were there for a reason—and she had to live by them. Not play risky games. It might seem terribly old-fashioned, but that was the way it was in Montovia. She and Tristan and Gemma were working together to stretch the boundaries when it came to contemporary life—but they weren’t there yet.
A sob rose up in her throat and she swallowed it. To make love with Finn was too much of a risk for her to take—no matter how much she wanted him. No matter how much she liked him. This wasn’t the way to lose her virginity.
She remembered the security guards in the adjoining room. They would be aware she had invited a stranger to her room. They might very well be listening via some device to ensure she was safe. Nausea struck her at the thought of them hearing what she and Finn had been murmuring to each other. But even if they were not, a full report of her behaviour would go back to the King and Queen.
What if she didn’t care? What if she decided to make love with Finn completely on her own terms? And then never saw him again? The answer—emotional agony. She wanted to lose her virginity with a man who would be part of her life for more than one night.
Finn still held her aloft in his arms. But she couldn’t stay there. Not now.
She wiggled to be let down. Finn immediately released her and held her until she was steady on her feet.
‘You okay?’ he asked with a puzzled frown.
How could she have this kind of conversation while standing in only her bra and panties and a pair of high heels?
She took a deep breath in an effort to steady her racing pulse. ‘Not really. No. I...er... About the protection... I... I...don’t think we’ll need it. We need to stop. You see, I—’
‘This is moving too quickly for you?’ His voice was gruff, but not unkind.
Falling for the Secret Princess Page 5