by Lori Wilde
He’d taken her by surprise in the shower, but this was one man, one woman, and a bed. She still had misgivings, even when she saw the graceful arch of his spine and his delightfully compact backside.
Then he smiled down at her, his eyes dark and challenging, his face softened with passion. She loved him. There was no turning back. She found the courage to reach out to him.
She raised her arms, and he came down between them, hovering over her while he mesmerized her with his eyes.
“You’re exquisite,” he said quietly, taking her chin in his hand and barely brushing her lips with his. “I want to make you wonderfully happy.”
“You are.” She pulled him down, cradling his cheek against her breast, feeling protective, loving, and deliciously aroused all at the same time.
Max wanted to ask questions of her. Has any man touched you like this? Have you ever felt this way before? He was a stranger to himself at this moment, jealous even of that fool on the television who’d claimed to have kissed her when they were adolescents.
Ordinarily he had little sexual curiosity about the women he bedded. He assumed they were experienced and wouldn’t want them to be otherwise.
Leigh was turning all his liberal ideas upside down. He wanted to be the first to introduce her to lovemaking. It had nothing to do with the sexual act as he’d always performed it and everything to do with her mysterious attraction.
At this moment nothing mattered but being with her. He wanted to hold her in his arms forever. He was intoxicated by the scent of her skin and enraptured by the depths of her hazel eyes. Her laughter was more pleasing than the finest symphony, her lips more beautiful than a rose garden in bloom.
He rolled onto his side and rested his hand on the swell of her creamy white hip, lowering his head to her breast. Suckling gently, he heard a purr of contentment deep in her throat and moved his hand lower to rest between her thighs.
“You’re lovely. So lovely.” The impact of her beauty overwhelmed him. He couldn’t stop telling her.
Stretching his length beside her, he pulled her against his torso, locking her there with his arm and leg. Oddly, his raging need subsided. He was still hard and throbbing, but he was wholly in control, wanting to prolong the joy of discovery as long as possible.
She snuggled against him, tentatively teasing his nipple with the tip of her tongue, creating spasms of pleasure that rippled through him with electrifying tension. He explored her pleasure points with his hands and mouth and tried to suppress the growing intensity of his own need. She moaned seductively when he massaged her back from her neck to her ankles, showering her with kisses.
“Please, Max, oh, please...”
She rolled onto her back and reached for him, pulling him closer with more strength than he’d dreamed of finding in her slim, shapely arms. Their lips met as her legs circled his hips and he entered her.
Nothing was this good; nothing felt this wonderful. Every nerve in her being was vibrating from his rhythmic movements. His lips set her skin afire; his hands made her delirious with pleasure. He filled her with sensations that kept building with every stroke. She heard breathless cries and belatedly realized they were her own.
He cried out, too, and she recognized her name, but the rest of the words spilling from his heart and his mouth were foreign. The whole world was rocking, and he was with her. He was part of her. It was going to happen. Max was going to make it happen.
“Oh, Max!” There were no words for what was building inside her. “Oh!”
She arched her back to meet his final thrust, and he held her suspended between two dimensions, her legs trembling as wave after wave of pure pleasure swept through her.
“I didn’t know...” she said, more to herself than him.
Tenderly, he pulled up the sheet before he stretched out beside her, cradling her against his chest.
“I’ve never... Not like that.”
“Never?”
“It was...” She was so sleepy she was afraid she might be dreaming.
“It’s never been so wonderful for me,” he whispered into her ear.
“It makes everything else seem like a waste of time.” Her eyes drifted shut, and she snuggled closer to him.
When she awoke the only light was from the small lamp on the bedside table. Max was still beside her, watching her, his face still softened with passion.
“Can it happen again?” she wondered aloud.
“Again and again and again, sweetheart.”
“You didn’t harrumph, not once all evening,” she remembered, still in a happy daze.
“Then I must name your penalty. One hundred kisses, payable beginning now.”
“You’re a tyrant!”
She always paid her debts, but by the time the light of dawn crept in around the edges of the curtain, he had a mortgage on her soul.
11
Bright sun streamed into the room, and the rich aroma of coffee was almost enough to coax Leigh out of bed.
She rolled onto her back and stretched lazily, too content to worry about the time.
“Good morning, darling.” His accent was more pronounced than usual, making his voice deliciously sexy.
“Oh, you’re up.”
Not only was Max wide awake, he was dressed. She got one glimpse of his superbly tailored Italian suit and pulled the sheet over her head.
“Go away. Please. I’m not ready for morning.”
“I brought you some coffee.”
“That’s sweet of you. Please leave it on the nightstand.”
“Very well, but I want to kiss you good morning.”
“You did that hours ago.”
“So I did. Then let me kiss you good noonday. I have to leave for a luncheon meeting.”
She felt the bed move when he sat down beside her, then he started to pull the sheet away, beginning at the bottom. When cool air hit her toes, she gave up, pushing herself to a sitting position and clutching the sheet to her breasts.
“This isn’t fair. You’re all clean and combed and...”
Shaved, she thought, feeling his smooth chin against hers as he covered her mouth for a long lingering kiss. Her lips were so tender it was like walking over pebbles in shallow water: uncomfortable but too much fun to stop.
“I don’t want to leave you,” he said, cupping her chin and looking into her eyes. “But we depart for Miami this afternoon, and I must confer with some people.”
“I’ll miss you.”
Was it a mistake to admit it? She was beyond caring.
“A pair of keycards for your room are on the dresser. I insisted they recode the lock since your card was stolen. Albert drew a hot bath for you here and brought a small selection of fresh clothing—”
“Albert came in here?”
“Yes, he just left.”
“He saw me sleeping in your bed?”
“Don’t be concerned. There’s no possibility Albert will ever write a royal expose. He comes from a distinguished line of gentlemen’s gentlemen. Discretion is bred into him.”
“Still, you should have warned me so I could leave before he came. I’m embarrassed that he saw me.”
“My rights to privacy were taken away the moment I left my mother’s womb. You’re making too much of this. Albert has duties to perform, among them waking me in the morning.”
“I don’t care what your valet does for you. I don’t want to be watched while I’m sleeping.”
“Then I owe you an apology,” he said stiffly. “I derived a great deal of pleasure observing you while you slept.” He stood and walked toward the door.
“It’s not the same thing, Max, and you know it.”
“No, it isn’t,” he said crossly, leaving without a goodbye.
This was no way to begin the day after. She wanted to call him back and tell him how wonderful he was. She needed to hear soft loving words in the light of day, needed to know whether their lovemaking was as special to him as it was to her.
Fo
r several long minutes she stared at the closed door, hoping he’d come back if only to say, “See you later.”
“Another day, another city,” she said aloud, forcing herself to get up, then trailing the king-size sheet across the room to the window because it felt too weird to walk around naked in a prince’s bedroom that was frequented by his valet.
The best thing about last night—or at least one of the really good things—was that she’d forgotten for a while that Max was really Prince Maximilian.
She peeked out the side of the curtain and squinted against the bright sunlight. The trip was winding down and so was their ill-conceived engagement. She was only beginning to accept how complicated it would be explaining things to everyone she knew—and to a lot of nosy reporters she didn’t want to know.
She trudged toward the tub of hot water, wishing she could turn back the clock. Her life had been so pleasantly uncomplicated before she fell in love.
Max’s day went badly from the time he left the hotel. One of the key investors had to cancel out of the luncheon due to a family crisis.
The meal was catered in the bank’s boardroom, and Max set his mouth on fire with some innocent-looking seafood sauce, then scorched his tongue for real when he gulped his too-hot coffee to wash away the burning sensation.
He provided amusement for the Texans, only to learn they were unwilling to make a decision without the absent financier. They promised to email an answer to him later in the week, but he regretted the time wasted—time that could have been spent with Leigh.
Hans drove him directly from the meeting to the airport, where he found the plane had already boarded and was scheduled to leave momentarily for Atlanta—where they would change planes for Miami.
Worse, it was overbooked, and he’d been treated as a no-show, doubtless in spite of Albert’s vehement protests. His seat and Hans’ were occupied by an outspoken couple who resented having to give up first-class accommodations they hadn’t paid for. They fussed loudly until the flight attendants finally coaxed an elderly couple to relinquish their seats in the rear in return for valuable vouchers.
Leigh was sitting by a window, the aisle seat beside her occupied by a giant of a man with the look of a professional football player. She nodded once at Max, then appeared to be absorbed in a paperback novel.
Max had counted on changing places with either Albert or Fred when he’d finished discussing business matters with Hans—if she’d chosen to sit by one of them—and it irked him that he couldn’t get close to her. Nor did her cool attitude encourage him to suggest she change seats with Hans.
Even though he’d been running late for his meeting, he shouldn’t have left her so abruptly. He’d been insensitive about Albert.
He should have realized it would embarrass her to have his valet moving about the room while she was still in bed. He tried to catch her eye again while he waited awkwardly to be seated, but she kept hers glued on the pages of the book. He’d have to wait until they changed planes in Atlanta to speak to her.
He wanted to kick himself for not chartering a small plane. Usually he enjoyed the bustle of foreign airports and the relative comfort of first-class accommodations, but today everything that kept him apart from Leigh was an annoyance.
She could feel his eyes on her. She turned pages without trying to read them but refused to look up until she was sure Max was seated several rows ahead. What could they possibly talk about on a crowded plane?
What was left to be said, no matter where they talked? Miami loomed ahead like a black hole. He’d jet home to his palace and forget all about her. She’d try to salvage her career and her self-respect. It was a total downer to realize no one, especially not Max, would ever know she was willing to paddle a canoe across the ocean if that was what it took to stay with him.
Isn’t that a big joke, Your Royal Highness? she silently asked him.
When the plane landed in Atlanta, he stayed in his seat until she walked past, then inserted himself into the line of passengers inching toward the exit.
“I wanted to sit by you,” he said, grasping the equipment bag she still didn’t trust to airline baggage handlers. “You really should let Fred take care of this.”
“I’m not asking you to carry it. I’m perfectly capable of carrying my own bag.”
She tried to take it back just as the flight attendant was giving Max her sunniest goodbye smile. He held it tightly as they squeezed through the plane door, more or less together, and resisted another tug as they walked up the exit ramp.
“Leigh, darling, are you trying to embarrass me?” he asked.
“Carry it, then.” His teasing tone annoyed her. “And I’m not your darling.”
“I want to apologize for—”
She glanced up and saw his bodyguards well within sight—and hearing.
“Don’t you dare!” she said under her breath, dashing ahead—in the wrong direction.
Fred cut her off after a few hundred feet of dodging travelers who were streaming toward the main concourse.
“Please, miss, this way,” he said urgently, probably petrified his career would go down the tubes if he lost her.
His Highness didn’t deign to run after her himself.
They made the connection with no time to spare. She couldn’t stop Max from sitting beside her, but he was so quiet even a harrumph would have been welcome.
After a half hour that seemed two days long, he spoke without looking at her.
“I only wanted to express my regrets for letting Albert into the room. It was insensitive, and I hope you’ll accept my apology.”
A harrumph would have sounded friendlier.
“I thought you were going to apologize for... I misunderstood.”
“Should I be sorry for...other things?”
“No, of course not!” She bit her lip. “I’m planning to stay in my own apartment tonight. Since I live in the city, a hotel room really isn’t necessary.”
“We’re invited to a party at the hotel this evening. It would be more convenient if you’d stay there. I’ve already arranged for your accommodations. It would simplify the arrangements.”
“About tonight, I really think I’ll pass. You can tell your guests I’m sick or something.”
“It will be very awkward if you’re not there. Surely, you’re not going to let me down.”
“You really don’t need me.”
“Let me be the judge of that. I’m holding you to our agreement.”
“Our agreement,” she repeated dismally.
The old Leigh would’ve put up a fight, but instead, she gave in and hated herself for having the backbone of a worm. She’d go to his party, but only because it was easier to put off their final farewell than to deal with it now.
She glanced at his profile. Strong features like his belonged on a postage stamp, not on a snapshot tucked away in her billfold. He was major league; she was sandlot.
She closed her eyes and pretended to sleep.
Tonight would be different, she learned from Max on the way to the grandiose pseudo-Spanish hotel, probably the poshest in South Florida. The party wasn’t business. An old school friend of Max’s had flown in from the Bahamas and was throwing a reunion bash. A hundred or so of their best friends would be there.
“Would this be a good time to break off our engagement?” she asked, dreading the curiosity and congratulations of people who cared about Max as a person.
“It would be a terrible time. I need you as my fiancée more tonight than at any other event on the schedule. Please tell me you’re not serious.”
She was serious, but when Max targeted her with his intense dark eyes, she didn’t have the energy to deny him.
“Oh, all right. I’ll play my part for one more party.”
She wasn’t being gracious in defeat, but Max didn’t seem to notice. He busied himself with a newspaper as soon as she agreed not to deviate from the itinerary: Prince Escorts Fiancée to Evening Party.
She w
as booked into a suite at this hotel, but by the time she was registered and had accounted for all her luggage, there wasn’t time to enjoy the spacious rooms. She took one look at the machine-carved imitations of Spanish colonial furniture and rushed off to the hotel salon to be made presentable.
Albert, of course, had made the appointment. She still hadn’t managed to look him in the eye.
She should’ve looked great when she got back from the salon. Her hair was piled high in elegant coils so she could wear the collar of imitation pearls that went with the floor-length black column gown, the last unworn outfit in her temporary wardrobe. Her makeup was skillfully applied, masking the fatigue shadowing her eyes, but cosmetics couldn’t conceal the misery there or the unhappy cast of her mouth. After she dressed, she practiced looking happy in the mirror, but it was no go. Max should have hired an actress to play his fiancée.
In spite of her misgivings, her heart leaped when she heard the knock. Even if Max chose to be cold or aloof this evening, she suffered less in his presence than away from him.
Was she going to turn into a batty old lady, her apartment walls covered with clippings about the prince who got away?
She opened the door, prepared to smile gamely and go to the party.
“Good evening, miss,” Hans said. “His Highness requested that I give these to you.” He handed her a familiar key chain with a battered alligator emblem. It was the one her brother had given her years before when she’d passed the driving test for her license.
“Your vehicle is in the parking garage. Here’s your claim check.”
“Thank you.”
She wanted to cry. Now that she had transportation, there was absolutely no reason not to go home in the morning.
“His Highness requests that you join him at the cocktail party on the mezzanine. If you’ll allow me?” He offered his arm with a boyish grin.
“It would be my pleasure.”
She tossed the keys on the bed and left with the bodyguard.