by Mia Madison
“Really? Like what?”
“Like fucking my father’s mistress while he was out in the stables. Then continuing to fuck her whenever my father was close by, proving to her and thereby myself that I was better than the old man. Until he caught me and whipped my ass.”
She laughs despite herself. I hope I’m managing to make her feel that what she’s been blaming herself for wasn't her fault, “It was an accident, Peanut.”
She nods and tears start to well in her beautiful eyes. I swivel her slightly toward me, scoop her up and nestle her into my lap where she leans on the hard scoop between my shoulder blade and swell of my pectoral, made solid from years of controlling wild beasts. She likes it there and her cheek fits perfectly into the hollow. I stroke her back and her hair and I know I can’t ever let her go. This isn’t about to be a stint of her playing my lucky mascot and a filthy few days in Europe.
Fuck, I might even do the romantic thing and take her to Paris for the weekend. She’s never been anywhere or done anything it seems, too buried in guilt and the anxiety that can swarm up out of nowhere to destroy a life.
“It’s time you learned to live and have a good time,” I tell her gently.
“I’m already having a beyond amazing one,” she says. “And oh my god look, that’s Tower Bridge and Big Ben and that big Ferris wheel thing.”
Humph. The pilot has overshot Heathrow and is banking around to turn back along the river. There must be a pile up at the world’s busiest airport. At least Violet’s getting her first tour of London from above. She’s as excited as a little girl and it gives me an insane amount of pleasure to do this for her.
After landing, we take a black cab through the city and her nose is virtually glued to the glass. I told the cabbie to drive past the sights enroute, especially my pal Harry’s Mom’s place. She’s going to lose her mind when she sees who she’s seated beside in the box at the game.
The sun’s already dropping with the time change when we get to the hotel. We’re physically wiped but I’m starving again.
“Get dressed, I’m taking you to Nobu.”
“I’d love to get dressed,” she says, looking adorable, wrapped in the massive fluffy towel after her long soak while I went to the hotel gym to tone up. “You need a valet to do your packing though, because you can’t match anything.”
She throws a skirt to the ground saying there are no tops to match. Then a dress because she doesn't have the right shoes.
“Jeez,” I bug her. “Have you seen the shops downstairs? One long row of designer boutiques even a princess as demanding as you could be content with.”
“Ya, I did happen to notice them and do you know how much shops like that cost?”
“It’s Bond Street baby, go wild.” I toss her my Amex and she glares.
“I’m not spending your money. What do you think I am?”
“Oh I get it. You can make me charter a plane to come get you and you can fuck me so I can hardly walk straight but you draw the line at letting me dress you.”
“It isn't right.”
“It seems perfectly fucking right to me.”
“Well. I do want to look good beside you and not embarrass myself.”
“Do you need me along?” I ask.
Nothing I hate more than shopping but I’ll go if she’s nervous about leaving her safe zone or anything like that. I don’t completely understand post traumatic stress on the emotional level, how it influences panic attacks or agoraphobia but I will learn everything I need to to make Violet happy and secure.
“No I can tell you’d rather be forced to live with cowhands that go shopping – you'd better do some more sit ups while I’m gone because you’re going to need all your strength for later. I’m not finished with you for the day yet.”
I let out a wild laugh at her naughtiness. I love a woman with confidence and I can see Violet has it by the bucketful if she only lets it loose. It’s hot as hell how she’s let her sexuality take over her body and morphed into a sex goddess I can’t get enough of.
She kisses my mouth and goes breezily out of our suite. Ten seconds later I hurtle out after her. That same tug made me not want to lose sight of her even for an hour. Just as well because she tries to choose outfits based on the price, until I gave her a warning.
“You’re making me out to be a real cheapskate for the assistant. You trying to get gossip rumors started about me for the evil British press. Argentine Polo Prince refuses to pay.”
“I forgot how famous you are.” she whispers. “Oh god, they aren't going to rip me apart are they?”
“Not if you buy that nice silk backless number with the slit up the thigh. They’ll love you for that.”
“You really are a dog,” she says but she can’t stop smiling and I know she’s happier than she’s maybe ever been.
25
Violet
We eat dinner at a swanky restaurant where the cod is black and the prices are stratospheric. I’m trying to stop acting like the poor girl gone good but it’s going to take work to release that ingrained mentality.
Back at the beautiful old hotel, we fall into a deep sleep on the high bed. But I wake early, discombobulated by the time change.
I climb on top of Diego and he pulls my hips onto his pelvis so I straddle him. He has me sitting up while he fucks me slowly at first, his eyes on my tits bouncing up and down. His thumb is trailing circles faster and faster around my clit. I come completely undone again, thrashing with delirium at the pleasure rushing through my limbs.
I lose all my rhythm as well as strength in my thighs and he has to throw me over onto my stomach to finish the job. He rides me with my hair wrapped around his fist. Tugging my head up so my neck stretches and exposes enough skin for him to suck on.
After we shower together, I dress more carefully than I’ve ever dressed in my life. Somehow I know this polo match is the make or break of whatever comes next between us.
“I can’t come with you up to the box,” Diego tells me when we arrive at the grounds. “But Flavio here will escort you right there and I’ll be at your side soon as this is done.”
“Don't worry about me,” I say and I mean it. I've never felt less anxious in my life. Perhaps being in a totally new environment is helping - not having memories leaping out at me. “Just make sure you win. Although I’ll love you either way”
His eyes snap to mine with a grin.
Shit did I say that?
“I mean, I didn't’ mean, oh damn,” I mutter.
He looks more triumphant than ever as he’s led away by a groom. Another one, who I recognize from Foxworth, leads me upstairs. There are security teams everywhere, which seems a little over the top for a polo match but maybe some celebrity is here to watch.
As I’m shown to my seat, reserved with my name on it, I almost have heart failure when I see who’s seated to one side of me.
“Hi,” she says as my knees buckle and I sink beside her. “I’m Meghan.”
I resist saying ‘I know’ and simply say ‘Violet’.
On her other side, oh Jesus Christ, can this be real?
The Princess of Wales is smiling and clapping and now I see why. Riding onto the field right beside Diego is the Prince, her husband’s brother. I can’t deal with this at all. I start to wring my hands together, sure they must all think I’m the dowdiest commoner they've ever been forced to sit with.
“Hi, are you escorting Diego?” A girl on the other side of me rushes into her seat.
“Yes, I’m Violet,” I say, at least I don’t recognize this girl from the covers of magazines.
Or do I? She looks familiar. She has an American accent as well but greets the royal companions like besties.
“I’m Kennedy,” she says. “Lucy’s wife. He said Diego was smitten with some girl and in a fit about finding her and bringing her to London. It’s nice to meet you.”
“You too,” I say.
“No one has ever seen Diego like this before,” she
whispers. “You’re big news.”
The game has started and Kennedy explains the rules to me. It all looks quite dangerous to me, in a refined sort of way. I can barely look when Diego heels his horse to go thundering after the ball with a stampede all around him. But when he hits it successfully, his eyes fly up to the box and he grins hugely when he finds me.
I’m glad when it’s over and I can stop holding my breath. I follow Kennedy out toward a marquee where champagne and salmon and caviar and all that kind of stuff is laid out. She scoops some of the black eggs onto a cracker and pops it into her mouth.
“You’ll get used to it,” she say. “The charity gigs are always like this, usually we just have a picnic on the grass, unless the Duchess is here. Then it’s all protocol.”
“I can imagine,” I say.
But I can’t not even in my wildest fantasies.
And then he’s walking toward me and my heart stops. Diego is with Prince Harry on one side and another gorgeous hunk in tight white pants, also carrying a crop, beside him. And then it all drops into place. God I'm struck dumb as a dodo.
Kennedy is in fact a princess herself. She just had a massive wedding that was all over the newspapers to the Crown Prince of Monato. I laugh to myself – she’s just another American girl with an older Latin Lover. She drops into a curtsy to Harry, which confuses me as she’s a princess too but I stick a foot behind me to do the same.
Kennedy’s prince takes her to raise her up his eyes filled with love. He’s also older than her, about the same as Diego. Who I notice is gazing at me with the same look of adoration that Kennedy’s receiving. Now that really has to be my wild crazy imagination. This is one insane dream so someone just pinch me.
“Very nice to meet you,” Harry takes my hand with genuine warmth and holds it in his. “Diego’s been telling us all about you all afternoon so I feel like we’re friends already.”
All about me? My crazy life so far?
“I hope the game wasn’t too dull,” he says.
“No” I mutter “It was, um-amazing. I didn’t know much about horses before last week.”
“The best animals,” he says, then claps Diego’s shoulder jovially. “You just make sure to keep this wild beast in check and let me know if he gets out of hand and we’ll toss him in the Tower.”
Everyone wants a piece of the Princes, including mine. The three star players are whisked away for interviews and pictures and stuff.
“Can you give me curtsy training,” I whisper to Kennedy “I nearly landed flat on my nose.”
“You’ll get used to it. They train you into all of it.”
I’m exceptionally glad when Diego is the first of the men to rejoin us and scoops me up with an arm around my waist.
“I need to get you out of here, back to the hotel and out of that dress,” he growls into my ear.
“I didn't know you were that bothered about hotel rooms. Won’t up against the wall do?”
“You aren't suggesting I ravage you in front of two European princes?” He laughs. “Even this PDA is frowned upon when royalty are present, seeing as they have to keep theirs hands off.”
“I’m glad you aren't a real Prince then,” I say resting my hand on his bicep possessively.
“I want to be your prince Violet. I know this is crazy fast but can I keep you? I want you with me always.”
I look at him to check whether he’s joking with me. His face is intense and pleading even.
“I have an insane schedule,” he explains. “We’ll spend half our lives up in the clouds but I want you. I need you.”
“You have an entertaining way of passing time while flying.” I say with a provocative glint that sets the lust raging in his eyes.
“Say you will or I’m going to have to punish you right here.”
“You have the tools at hand,” I say, indicating the crop he’s left on the bar.
“You really are turning into quite the little minx.”
“Is that a bad thing.”
“Only if you refuse to stay with me. Then it’ll be you locked up in some dungeon. I hear old Lucy has one in the attic in Monato that he uses to keep Kenny in line with the threat of.”
“I have so much to learn,” I say with a shake of my head.
“Let me be the one to teach you,” he begs.
“Really?” I say doubtfully. Can he really be wanting me? “No wait. Stop. Diego,, please, get up.”
He ignores my protestations and sinks down on his wide thighs to kneel on the ground at my feet.
“I'm begging you to be my princess,” he says gazing up at me, his hands clasping mine. It’s a wonder I don’t sink down with him my knees are wobbling so hard. “Please allow me to train you and keep you always at my side,” he continues. “I need your companionship. I need your perfect body in my bed every night. I can’t even think straight when you aren't with me.”
Everyone in the tent turns to look, including the royals and I must be scarlet with embarrassment.
“That’s quite a speech,” I whisper.
“It’s from my heart.” His gaze goes straight to mine.
Along with those of everyone in the polo tent.
“Yes okay I will, I mean I agree. but only if you get up off your knees,” I blurt out.
He rises up and pulls me into him.
“You can only get down on your knees like that if you're proffering a fancy little box.” I hiss.
“So demanding,” he shakes his head with a grin.
“No, oh god no, I wasn’t asking you – I meant everyone’s going to talk.”
“Let them. I have a feeling it won’t be long.”
I don’t know what he means by that last remark and I don’t dare think about it. As always I’m just taking one day at a time and learning to enjoy all the amazing pleasure life can bring when you let yourself open up to it.
Epilogue
Six Months Later
Diego
She said yes.
I couldn't believe she said yes and I lifted her up in my arms to swing her around. I didn't give a shit if that brought down the disapproving looks of the royal equerries. And I could see my buds, Harry and Lucy, were grinning hugely, glad to see the terrible polo prince finally get the cuffs snapped.
Esposas we call them in my language – it’s the same word for handcuffs and wives – seriously.
But Violet doesn't feel like repression or prison. I can do everything I want with her and at the same time have a genuine companion by my side always. I won’t have to deal with that tug in my gut every time she takes off because I’ll be there with her when she does.
I know she’s worried about my reputation. So it’s a massive relief that she agreed to be mine. And a sign of her trust in me.
In us.
I was the player. But last week we visited Monato and had dinner at Lucy’s place. When the men left the room for after dinner drinks, Lucy pulled me to one side, teasing me; “She played you perfectly without even knowing she was doing it.”
He called it head on.
Me pulling back from connection was my normal thing. But when Violet did the same and pulled her own disappearing act, that was my a-ha moment. I knew I couldn’t take risks with the woman I really want. Because she might not be always waiting for me like I assumed.
I had to step up and grab her before someone else did. I could see she’d found her confidence (and I fancy I had a hand in that) so she’d soon be out in the world where some other lucky bastard would snap her up from under me.
No one gets to steal what I want.
She’s also worried about her emotional state.
“I don’t know for sure whether it’s extended grief, or PTSD, guilt, depression or what. But I’m a liability,” she told me on the way back to the hotel in London, after she agreed to be mine for always. “Sometimes I wake up in an anxiety attack. Sometimes I can’t leave the house for weeks. And other people scare me. I’m useless in social situations.”
“Only because you were there.”
“And now that you’ve taken me on, I’m always gonna be there. Win-win.”
“I was on my best behavior and I still nearly did a face plant with my royal curtsy.” She laughs like a girl, so happily.
“You better practice those because when Harry gets married you’ll have to face a whole bunch of queens.”
“Is he...?”
“He wants to propose. He’s gotta deal with his mother first.”
Her face collapses and I realize I made a gaff mentioning moms, or dads, or sisters. But we aren't going to do this walking on eggshells stuff. Whatever we have to do to get through the grieving process we’ll do. Together.
“Baby, look at me.”
Her eyes slowly shift up to mine.
“It’s over, okay? I don't care how long it takes but you’re going to start taking more baby steps, out of the belief that what happened to your family is your responsibility. Your guilt doesn't bring them back.”
She bites her lip and nods. I know she’s trying her hardest and I adore her even more for it. I hope it’s going to be the right thing, me dealing her a firm hand. No pussy-footing around it, although of course I’m right there to support her.
“You’ll have all the horse therapy you’ll ever need once we get home.”
“Home,” she repeats softly. “Is your father going to make me curtsy?”
“He’d love that. And he might take a crop to that perfect ass of yours if you get out of line.”
She laughs again. Happy again. Like I want her.
I don’t want her to worry. Her emotional state has already changed under my tutelage and I know that’s going to continue for the better.
Violet
We don’t go home for months. All my nervousness about meeting Signor della Donna the elder melts away while his son and I travel the world together. After taking me all around London we had out of town to some amazing historical sites close by. Stonehenge is a favorite and I stand for ages feeling the power in the stones.