The Princess and the Player

by J Santiago

  Then, he remembered the picture. He glanced up and met Robert’s eyes. They needed to talk.

  Apparently, Robert could read his mind because when Tristan stepped away from Ele, Robert remained in place.

  “Ma’am, I need a moment with Mr. Davenport.”

  Ele looked between them and then nodded, stepping into the very small living room.

  Tristan stepped closer to Robert.

  “Problem?” Robert asked.

  “Telepathic too?” Tristan quipped.

  Nothing from Robert on that one, not even a twitch.

  “I’m not sure. Ele and I took a picture together at the party.”

  Robert’s brow rose—in surprise maybe.

  “My sister thought it was cute and sent it to my mom.”

  Eyes narrowed, Robert waited for him to continue.

  “Is that a problem?” Tristan finally asked.

  “I don’t know. Is it?”

  “Maybe. I have a big family. They follow my career, my posts. I texted her and told her not to do anything with it. But my nine-year-old sister is on her phone all the time. There’s no telling.”

  Robert nodded. Then, he turned to leave.

  “That’s it?” Tristan asked.

  “What do you want me to do?”

  “You know three hundred fifty-seven ways to kill a man.”

  “Did I say three hundred fifty-seven? It’s really three hundred sixty.”

  Tristan refrained from rolling his eyes. “Can’t you beam a satellite at the phone and zap the picture or something?”

  Robert smirked. “No.” Then, “I suggest you tell her.”

  “I was going to. I just thought you would want to know.”

  “Word of advice?”

  Tristan nodded.

  “Everyone else underestimates her strength. Don’t be one of those people.” Robert stalked to the door, leaving Tristan alone with Ele.

  And for the second time tonight, Tristan was left with something to think about.

  He found Ele standing at the window, looking out at the mountains in the distance. Walking up behind her, he slipped his hands around her waist and rested his chin on the top of her head. She leaned back against him, sliding into place, molding her body to his. Their simple affair felt complicated.

  “What was that about?” she asked quietly.

  “I needed to run something by Robert.”

  Neither of them spoke, nor did they move. With Ele in his arms, Tristan was content to hold her. Maybe he was afraid to tell her, afraid she’d cut their night short. It had been a week since he had her in his arms, had his mouth on hers, her body tucked within the confines of his. He liked her here. The last thing he wanted was for her to leave.

  “The picture we snapped on the beach,” he began.

  Ele nodded.

  “My sister found it and sent it to my mom.”

  Ele didn’t say anything for a moment. “So?” she finally conceded.

  Tristan thought of Robert’s words, about her strength, and he smiled. So.

  “I’d like to promise she’ll keep it to herself. But I can’t guarantee it. I don’t want you to be exposed.”

  Ele considered, all the while burrowing deeper into him. She moved back infinitesimally, like she might be able to get even closer. “I’m not worried about that picture, Tristan. It’s easily explained away. People know we met at the St. Peter’s tour. And my appearance at the party was on my itinerary. It was no secret.”

  Tristan breathed easy. It felt like his first full breath since he’d discovered Sheena with his phone in her hand.

  “You were worried.” She turned in his arms.

  He hadn’t kissed her since she walked in the room, but with her gaze focused on him, he didn’t resist. His hands on her hips flexed, and he pulled her flush against him. She cradled his jaw in her elegant fingers. His mouth dropped to hers, and he inhaled her, ravenous for the taste of her. It started with hunger, but she gentled it, slowing him down, exploring him. She controlled the tempo, the exchange, the parry. Her hand gripped his head, and he pulled her even closer. But he didn’t take control, wasn’t even sure if he could.

  He liked Ele’s shy curiosity in their encounters. But he was even more enthralled by her bold handling of their kiss. He would follow her anywhere she led him. So, when she came up for air, he waited for her direction. She placed light kisses on the corner of his mouth.

  “I missed that over the last week,” she murmured.

  He smiled. “Me too.”

  She continued kissing him, exploring his neck, nipping lightly at the space under his ear, making his pulse race. He knew she’d noticed when her mouth moved to the pulse point on his neck, and she rested there, letting his heart beat against her tongue. She moaned softly, and Tristan thought he might lose his mind. Her tentative perusal felt more aggressive, more determined and pointed. Her hands snaked down his chest, mapping his muscles.

  She tugged on his shirt and whispered, “Off.”

  He complied, reaching to his back to grip the neck of his shirt and pulling it over his head. Her mouth landed immediately on his chest. One hand found his nipple, and then her mouth followed. His dick jumped. In a move he wasn’t ready for, she dropped to her knees before him. Like a cartoon character, his eyes bulged. He recovered quickly, his hands lacing through her hair. He’d imagined just this moment, when his princess was on her knees; he’d gotten off on it more times than he was comfortable admitting. His hands wove through her silken strands, and her nose nuzzled against him, making him grunt. She gripped the waistband of his pants, pulling them down, over his ass, to the floor.

  She grinned up at him and he stepped out of them, standing naked before her.

  When she swallowed him whole, he had a fleeting thought. He’d wanted Princess Eleanor just like this, but he hadn’t been prepared for it. Because she suddenly seemed to have all of the power.

  Tristan pulled Ele into the cradle of his thighs. She came willingly. His hands were clasped in front of her, and she interlaced their fingers.

  “It was a good game,” she commented.

  “It was. Unlucky that we have to play the number one team in the world next.”

  “It is. You need to make sure you win.”

  Tristan chuckled. “Of course. I’ll get right on that.”

  “I’m not ready for this to end,” she said seriously.

  “Right,” Tristan agreed.

  He’d forgotten about that. When they were done playing football, this interlude would be over too. When he thought about it like that, it amplified the importance of the next game.

  “I’m sure that’s not your greatest motivation, but it couldn’t hurt to have multiple reasons.”

  Tristan didn’t have a response for that, so he stayed silent.

  “How is your sister?”

  “A pain in my ass,” he answered, perhaps too quickly.

  Ele laughed. “I’m sure that’s Jamie’s auto-response to that question too.”

  “I doubt it. She went through my phone, sent my mom that picture, and generally was all over me about my relationship with you.” He dropped his hand and kissed Ele on her neck. “She drives me crazy.”

  “She knows it’s just for now, right?”

  If Tristan had been standing, he might have been brought down by the pain of that blow. Of course, earlier tonight, he’d rebuffed his sister’s claims of his deep feelings for Ele. But Ele’s flippant response, her very similar assertion of nonchalance, cut deep. It made no sense to him.

  “Yes, I explained it to her—with as few words as possible. Less is better.”

  Ele chuckled. “Maybe it was just the day for odd sibling interactions.”

  “How so?”

  Ele shifted around and slung her legs over the side of the couch, situating herself on Tristan’s lap.

  “I just noticed things about Jamie and Juliana that I hadn’t before.”

  “Like what?”

  “I think J
amie is really lonely. And Juliana’s crazy antics, I think, have more to do with trying to get our attention than anything else. For so long, I’ve only been able to see what’s happening with me. There’s been scheduling and arranging, managing and overthinking. I haven’t paid attention to anyone else. Now, I’m noticing things about them, things that I should have noticed a long time ago.”

  “What’s changed?” It was on the tip of his tongue—to ask the question, to lead her to making the revelations she locked up tight. He wanted to hear it, not read about it. Is that true? Do I want to share her burdens, or do I want to keep my distance?

  “You.”

  “Me?” he said, surprised.

  A moment ago, she’d reminded him they were only here for the duration of the tournament.

  “I’m not really sure how to explain it without freaking you out.”

  He forced a smile. “I promise I won’t take it to heart.”

  She kissed him. A hard, biting kiss. Then, with a deep breath, she sat back, putting distance between them.

  “You calm me. I haven’t had a”—she air-quoted—“ ‘panic attack’ since St. Peter’s. I’ve had a couple of starts. In my head, I call it ‘the bubble.’ It’s like something pops inside of me, and all of a sudden, I’m hot. There’s heat everywhere—and not the heat you generate inside of me.”

  She flushed, and Tristan, a bit captivated by her, leaned in, running his nose along hers. They smiled at each other as he pulled away.

  “Uh …” She paused, gathering her thoughts. “It starts in my stomach, and then it’s everywhere, like an out-of-control wildfire. My chest gets tight, and breathing is hard. You saw me in that phase in the changing room. I can’t breathe, and even though I know what’s happening, I can’t slow it down enough for it to make any difference. There are instances when I hyperventilate so much that I pass out.”

  He fingers tightened reminding her he was there with her.

  “But that day, you put your hands on me, and I calmed immediately. And since then, when I feel it begin, I remember your hands on me, the way your thumbs rubbed along my jaw, and I can control it.”

  “Have you ever talked to anyone about it? Like a psychiatrist?”

  “No.”

  “Just no?”

  “No. We’ve discussed it as a group—”

  “We?”

  “My grandmother, Jamie, our advisors. It’s a matter of perception. And since I’ve been able to remain in the public eye without anyone knowing, we aren’t going to.”

  “But don’t you think it would help?”

  Ele shrugged. It wasn’t his place to say, but if he had a vote, if his opinion mattered, he would make sure she found a way to get professional help.

  “When did they start?”

  Ele startled in his lap. He placed his on her chin turning her head to his, seeking her gaze. It skittered away from him.

  “Hey,” he said gently. “No pressure.”

  “I’m not sure I can talk about it,” she admitted.

  “Look at me,” he said, lightly pressing her jaw.

  Finally, her ice-blue eyes met his. He could practically see her withdrawing, the glow dimming.

  “Robert gave me a file.”

  Her back straightened, and her eyes widened.

  “It’s sitting in my safe back in Chicago. I haven’t read it. I’d rather you tell me. But I don’t want to push you to do something you’re not comfortable doing. I’d like to know what happened. But I can wait for you to tell me.”

  “You can read it,” she said.

  He shook his head, disappointed. “I’ll wait,” he insisted.

  “But I don’t know if I can tell you. Ever.”

  “Maybe if you told someone, you could lighten your load.” Let me carry it. The thought came unbidden, most unwelcome.

  Hours ago, he’d denied Ele to Sheena. Now, he only wanted to protect her.

  He remembered his sister’s words, her warning. He looked at the woman in his arms, her gaze now completely focused on him, and he realized Sheena was right.

  He was in deep. The woman he wanted to protect, the princess with a security team, had the power to hurt him in a way a man who knew three hundred sixty ways to kill couldn’t. Because Robert could break his body, but Ele could absolutely gut his heart.

  18

  4 July

  Denver, Colorado

  Ele dressed carefully. Beatrix attended to her hair, braiding it in a soft side braid, cushioning her features so she appeared delicate and approachable. Her pencil skirt, silk shirt, and beige pumps were all royal business. She needed the shield today, the fortification of her image. She needed to be the Ice Princess.

  Her conversation with Tristan the night before had rattled her. Robert, with his impeccable timing, had shown up after Tristan asked about the origins of her attacks. She was so relieved to see Robert, to have a reprieve, that she practically bolted from Tristan’s lap. She certainly didn’t say good-bye, kiss, or hug him. The difference between the end of the night and the beginning was vast; it’d started with his dick in her mouth and ended with her tail between her legs.

  But the show must go on. She’d been making official appearances since she stepped off the plane. This morning though was one she didn’t want to do. Only yesterday, she had been excited about watching the National Team practice. She hadn’t given any thought to the press. All Ele had thought about was seeing Tristan, watching him. Now, she didn’t know if she could pull it off.

  “All done,” Beatrix said, studying Ele with a worried expression. “Are you okay, Your Highness?”

  Ele stood and patted Beatrix on the shoulder. “I’m fine.”

  The tension from her staff hit her as soon as she exited her bedroom. Robert waited in front of the entrance to the foyer, like by standing there, he could keep the outside world away. Millie sat in one of the chairs, her iPad waiting on her lap.

  Resigned, Ele dropped into the seat across from Millie. “What happened?” she asked.

  Millie licked her lips and rubbed them together. It was eight forty-five in the morning, and she had already chewed the lipstick from her mouth.

  “The picture went viral,” Millie said simply.

  “Of course it did.”

  Ele held out her hand for the iPad. Millie would have compiled all the gossip headlines for Ele to look at. Millie dropped it into her outstretched palm.

  She tapped the button, unlocking the iPad. The first headline—“FOOTBALLER GETS ROYAL TREATMENT”—actually made her smile. And when she glanced up at Millie, she could see Millie was quite pleased with the positive spin. “ICE PRINCESS THAWS” was the second one.

  She looked at Robert. “You must have loved this one.”

  Millie snickered when he said, “I was quite impressed.”

  “DAVENPORT DE-ICES PRINCESS” was the third.

  “Well, that’s interesting,” Ele conceded.

  “THAWED! ELEANOR HAS TEETH.”

  “Stupid.”

  “GLOBAL WARMING IS NOT JUST A THEORY.”

  “Really? I think I’ve seen enough,” Ele declared, handing the iPad back to Millie. “Are you worried about this?”

  Millie looked at Ele. Maybe she’d only feared Ele’s reaction, but she continued to seem nervous. “I’m not particularly concerned. It was good press. The public seems to love the thought of you two.”

  “You were worried about my reaction,” Ele stated.

  Millie looked over to Robert. He shrugged.

  “Yes,” Millie answered. “The palace has already released a statement. Exactly what you might have thought. You and Mr. Davenport met at the St. Peter’s tour. You were at the team family barbeque. You posed for a picture together. You are friends, nothing more.”

  “Fine.” Ele stood, smoothing her hands down her skirt. “We need to be there in forty-five minutes. We should probably head out.”

  Like the well-orchestrated team they were, everyone fell into line. Michael waited in
the hall and led them to the elevator. Robert and Millie flanked her. It was muscle memory at this point. Without any thought of the movements, Ele was in the Rover, watching the city go by as they made their way to the practice fields.

  Conflicted, she glanced up. Robert’s wary gaze was locked on her. She wasn’t sure how she was feeling today. Three months ago, those pictures and headlines would have sent her into hiding. She counted it as a victory that she’d appear in public the same day. She would get through this appearance and then take some time to figure out if she was ready to tell Tristan about her past.

  They pulled up to the large indoor facility. When Ele stepped from the car, Juliana appeared by her side, as her team had arrived simultaneously. The two sisters made their way to the designated spot. The scheduled photo op was an opportunity to show palace support for the team. With their appearance in the knockout stage, the country’s enthusiasm knew no bounds. Hoping to capitalize on the public’s support of the team, the palace had set up big screens in public squares throughout the country and was shutting down government agencies early, so fans could watch the game. Football fever was real.

  A raised dais with a media pipe and drape stood colorful but empty away from the field. Once everyone arrived and set up, the team of personal protection officers flanked the sides of the dais.

  Ele’s gaze immediately zeroed in on Tristan. He stood next to Rowan and the boy she knew to be Caleb. Compared to the older guys on the team, it was easy to see Caleb’s youth. Her eyes flicked down the line, taking in the rest of the team. Jamie wouldn’t have to work hard to know all of their names. In fact, he probably knew what clubs they played for and other important facts.

  As she finished her cursory inspection, her gaze returned to Tristan, practically willing him to look up. Finally, his eyes met hers. So much passed between them. She sensed his concern but also his … she couldn’t be sure but something like pride maybe. Always on the verge of a smile, his lips twitched and then spread, his grin unstoppable. She looked away before her feelings bubbled up and spilled out.

  Nicolas Ramsey stepped forward. Curiosity piqued, she wondered about his life. He maintained a close relationship with his ex-wife, and Ele wanted to know the story there. He made a statement and took questions, and then Rowan moved from behind him.