The Prince's Bride (Modern Fairytales)

by Diane Alberts

  “Oh, but I do,” she murmured, latching on to her newfound confidence. “Let me show you.”

  Holding her breath, her heart racing in excitement, she took a deep breath and closed the distance between them. Her tongue touched his before she fully realized how bold she’d decided to be. He moaned and cradled her head with his hand, holding her almost tenderly while at the same time ravishing her mouth as if he’d been waiting a lifetime to taste her and had no intention of stopping anytime soon.

  God, the man knew how to kiss.

  Within seconds, his mouth demanded dominance. He seemed to like to be in control, and that was just fine with her.

  Breaking off the kiss, he growled. “Not here.”

  He took her hand, almost dragging her toward a door that said Staff Only. Two men in suits stood by, guarding it, but when they saw them coming, they nodded once and stepped aside, bowing.

  What is with all the bowing?

  Maybe it was a cultural thing.

  Her companion pushed through the doors without even hesitating and led them both down a dark hallway, his fingers never releasing Alicia’s.

  “Where are we going?”

  “Somewhere we can be alone.”

  She tightened her grip on him. “Who were those men?”

  “Security.”

  “Oh.” She licked her lips. “But they let you in…?”

  And bowed?

  “Yes.” He stopped and pulled her into his arms. “You’re so fucking beautiful… I need to make you mine.”

  His mouth moved over hers without mercy. She clung to him, her heart racing so fast it was a miracle it didn’t stop altogether. Growling deep in his throat, he backed her against a steel door. He kissed her again, his mouth even more demanding than before. He let go of his hold on her hair and slid his thumbs under her jaw, holding her in place.

  It was as if he couldn’t get enough.

  And she loved every single second of it.

  She curled her fist in his shirt and yanked him closer. He smashed his lips to hers, his tongue dueling with hers desperately. He tasted like beer and pure man, a combination she’d forgotten existed. His hands slid under her dress, creeping toward her inner thighs, and she whimpered into his mouth.

  The cool door was a complete contrast with his hot, muscular length pressed up against her, and when his hand slid between her thighs, something inside of her snapped. She rolled her hips against him, every inch of her body begged for his touch.

  It was enough to make a girl scream.

  She undid the button of his pants with unsteady fingers before trailing her fingers over his erection. He hissed through his teeth, his rock hard thighs pushing against her. “Alicia.”

  The way he dragged out the L sound with a soft, rolling lilt, sounded so much like Leo that it almost made her stop. Almost made her question her eyes, and her sense, and everything about this. Stop thinking. It’s not him.

  She squeezed him lightly, and he pulled his hips way.

  “Enough.” He caught her hands, trapping them against the door. “My turn.”

  His gravelly voice stirred things within her she didn’t even know existed. He was clearly a guy who was used to bossing people around.

  Turned out? She liked being bossed around in the bedroom.

  Or, y’know, dark hallways.

  Whatever.

  He kissed her, openmouthed and hot. Before she could so much as register that she was actually doing this, letting this guy touch her in intimate ways inside a freaking hallway of all places, his thumb flicked over her, making her legs shake. His mouth claimed her without any more words. He parted her with his fingers, his thumb circling her aching flesh as he did so. His tongue lashed out at hers, sending shafts of pure need rushing through every vein in her body.

  And then, within seconds, she was soaring.

  Orgasming like she never had before.

  He pressed his thumb against her again, letting her ride out the high, and then he tapped his finger against her once. That small movement sent her flying over the edge again, and another orgasm slammed into her. The only reason she managed to remain upright was because he still held her hands over her head, steadying her.

  There was the ripping of a condom wrapper, and within seconds, he pressed his body against hers again, lifted her up, and kissed her. As she wrapped her legs around his waist, she gripped his biceps, holding on for dear life because, man, her world was spinning faster than a tilt-a-whirl. She let out a raw moan.

  Breaking off the kiss, he froze.

  “Are you all right?” he asked with concern.

  All right? All right? She was falling apart with pleasure, but she needed more. “Holy hell…”

  “Alicia?” He brushed his hand across her cheekbone gently, his touch so reverent that it made her heart twist hard. “Should I stop?”

  The way he held her like she mattered to him, watching her through the cover of his Phantom of the Opera mask, awakened a need inside of her she hadn’t felt since Leo. And while she’d known she missed him, while she’d felt his absence deep in her heart for years, she hadn’t realized just how much until she met this man who reminded her of him so much.

  “Yes.”

  He paused, and just like that, the beast was leashed.

  Wait. What had she said?

  She hurried to say, “I mean no, don’t stop. I’m great. So, uh, very, very great.”

  “Great?” he asked, amusement tingeing his voice, making it even sexier than before.

  He was laughing at her.

  She didn’t care.

  “Yes. Now get on with it.”

  He chuckled, but then he slid his hands under her butt, his fingers digging into her skin, and shifted her forward, shoving her thong aside, and plunging inside of her with one long thrust. Her stomach hollowed out, and pleasure swept through her body as he filled her, his low groan spilling out into her mouth as he flexed his hips, testing her out.

  And in that moment, this wasn’t about crossing an item off her bucket list. It wasn’t just doing what Brian had asked of her, living instead of hiding from the world. It was about this man, and the way he made her feel…

  Alive.

  God, she’d missed that feeling.

  He pulled out of her, stopping just short of leaving altogether, and slammed inside her again, his tongue dueling with hers. She cried out, digging her nails into his shoulders, and closed her eyes, letting him take her higher and higher with each thrust of his hips. Deepening his kisses, he reached between them and rubbed his thumb over her, rough and fast. As the pressure built inside her all over again, and his movements grew harder, pleasure exploded with frightening intensity, and she orgasmed with a soft cry.

  He tightened his grip on her butt and drove inside her once, twice, three times. On the fourth thrust, his lips froze over hers, and he tensed, his whole body leaning into hers as he came, too. It wasn’t until she drifted back down from that high, that addictive adrenaline rush of those earthshattering orgasms, that she realized what had happened. She’d done it. Actually crossed an item off her list.

  She’d seduced a stranger.

  Now what?

  Oh, right. Now she had to ditch him.

  As he moved away, she pushed her dress back down around her thighs and slid away from him backwards, her heart pounding. What did one say to someone she’d just had sex with and had every intention of never seeing again?

  “Uh… This was fun. Thanks for the…uh…orgasms.”

  He let out a sexy chuckle that made her body respond as if he hadn’t just made her come three times. “You’re—” He stopped talking and froze when he saw she was backing away from him already. “Wait, where are you going?”

  “Like I said, thanks.”

  He lunged for her hand when he put two and two together—and tripped over his pants, which were tangled up around his ankles.

  She lurched back, almost falling on her butt—but not actually doing so. Thank God. �
�Sorry, gotta go.”

  “Wait!” he called out, still regaining his balance.

  She ran like hell.

  Chapter Three

  The next morning, Prince Leopold William George Worthington sat behind his big, maple wood desk, wearing a stiff collar and an even stiffer smile, and straightened his spine before posing for the dozen cameras pointed his way. Flashes burst in rapid succession, making his headache even worse than it already was, and his eyes watered in protest, but he gritted his teeth and kept on smiling.

  Maybe that half a bottle of tequila he’d inhaled after the best sex of his life last night hadn’t been the best of ideas after all. But she’d left him there. With his pants around his ankles. Immediately after orgasming. Who the hell did that to someone? Most people would at least take a second to come down from the high and catch their breath or something.

  Not just run.

  His whole world had been tipped on its axis the second Alicia Forkes stared at him from across that nightclub floor…and didn’t even fucking recognize him.

  A flashbulb popped, and he had to force himself not to wince at the bright light. On any other day, there was nothing he wouldn’t do to save his county or his people. He would give his life for them. But, man, he had a hangover from hell, and it was all Alicia’s fault. Her and her beautiful smile…

  And her not so beautiful escape afterward.

  Maybe if he had some coffee…

  He eyed the other man in the room, silently telling him what he required. His aide Harry frowned, clearly getting the message, and held up a hand. “Pause, please. Could we have a moment of privacy?”

  The cameras lowered, and the men all nodded, filing out of the office immediately. The press loved their photos, but they loved the formality of a ruler’s authority even more. As soon as the door shut firmly behind them, Leo sagged against the chair and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Thank you. Coffee, please?”

  Harry went over to the maple buffet on the side of the office, picked up the silver coffeepot that had belonged to Leo’s mother, and poured a cup. Setting the pot down gently, he came across the room with a thin silver coffee mug that had been in the Worthington family for five generations. “What’s wrong? You look…”

  He didn’t finish that sentence, probably because there was no suitable adjective to describe his appearance without possibly offending him. Something he shouldn’t be so damned worried about. Over the years, Leo had grown some pretty thick skin. “I went out last night.”

  Harry raised a brown brow. “Yes. To Lady Donagon’s ball.”

  “Yeah, but I didn’t end the night at the ball.” Leo rubbed his forehead and avoided the other man’s stare. “I went to the Ballroom.”

  The other man, a stickler for tradition, crossed his arms. “What did your father tell you the last time you decided to frolic among the commoners without proper protection?”

  It didn’t matter, because he was a grown man, and if he wanted to go dancing, he would. But nevertheless he waved a hand and said, “I brought my team along. They blended in as security for the club.” Leo lifted a shoulder. “They might not approve of my outings, but they aren’t going to tell me no.”

  “Something you take full advantage of.”

  Leo tapped his fingers on his desk. “Benefit of the job.”

  “No one recognized you?”

  “No.” Clearly not Alicia. “I wore a disguise.”

  “Which one was it this time?”

  “I put in that powder that gives me dark hair, and brown contacts.” Leopold touched his dark blond hair. “It was tough to get out in time for these photos.”

  “And it worked?”

  “Everyone was too busy dancing and, well, you know what people do there, to care who I was. It’s why I like that place. The anonymity.” He frowned. “Though, to be fair, I spent most of my evening with someone who wouldn’t have recognized me anyway.”

  That brow cocked upward again. “Oh?”

  Leopold picked up his coffee and blew on it, tightening his grip on the delicate cup. It had taken him less than a second in her company to recognize her…but she hadn’t known him. They met a long time ago. A lifetime, even. They’d been young. He’d been sixteen. She’d been fifteen. Children, really.

  His father had wanted him to experience the Western world firsthand, so he’d dragged Leo along to New York. It had been a bit of a culture shock, going into a big, modern city like that. Meeting Alicia, a confident young ballet dancer in the city, had been a moment in his life where angels had sung, and a light had shone down from the heavens on her. When they’d kissed under the lights of Times Square, with thousands of people surrounding them…he’d realized that he’d gone and fallen in love with her.

  Then last night, she just showed up in his life again…

  And didn’t recognize him.

  Harry cleared his throat. “You were with someone last night?”

  “Yeah,” Leo said, readjusting himself in his seat. “An American.”

  Harry stiffened, his nostrils flaring. The other man paced back and forth, swiping a hand through the air. “Another American? Clearly, you have a type. A type you need to break free of. You need to find a nice Randovian girl, or a princess, who can—”

  “Careful,” Leo warned, gritting his teeth. “My father might get away with trying to plan my future marriage, but you won’t.”

  The other man flushed and lowered his head. “Yes, I’m sorry. I forgot my place as your employee.”

  “Don’t be dramatic. Just try to resist the urge to arrange my life choices for me.” Leo sighed and leaned back, staring out the window at the sunny, clear blue summer skies. “I get enough of that already.”

  Harry bowed. “Sir.”

  He set his coffee mug down untouched. “And you’re right. I do have a type. Blonde. American. Named Alicia.”

  Harry’s jaw dropped, but his eyes were flatly blank. “Wait. What?”

  “It was her. I found her at the club again. Or she found me.”

  She’d been a woman on a mission—and if it hadn’t been him, it would have been another man in that hallway with her. Jealousy settled into his gut. Hot. Heavy. Unwelcome. It might have been ten years since they’d last seen each other, but that didn’t change the fact that he didn’t like the idea of another man making her cry out in pleasure.

  And he probably never would.

  His aide let out a small, derisive laugh. “Oh, come on now. How could you possibly know it was her? It’s been…” Harry cut off, clearly doing the math in his head. “Ten years. You couldn’t possibly remember what she looks like. It was just another blonde American. They’re hardly a rare find.”

  With any other woman, or man, he’d met that long ago, Leo would agree. But his runaway lover was undoubtedly the same Alicia who had stolen his heart all those years ago, and never given it back. He would never, not in a million years, forget the way her lips felt under his…or how fucking amazing she tasted. “It was Alicia. She—”

  The door to his office opened, and King Henry poked his head through the crack, blinking. “Why is there press sitting in the hallway out here?”

  “Coffee break.” Leo pushed to his feet and saluted his father, hoping he hadn’t heard their conversation. That was the last damn thing he needed. “Father.”

  His father waved a hand, frowning. “At ease, son. Harry.”

  “How are you feeling?” Leo asked, dropping his arm back to his side. “Did you have any more chest pains? I can send for the doctor—”

  “I’m fine.” The king pressed his lips together, and his blue eyes skimmed over his son’s face. His faded brown hair was still bright against his pale skin, but it used to be as deep as the hair on Leo’s head. “You’re the one who’s pale.”

  “I had a late night,” Leo said drily.

  “Of course you did.” King Henry smiled, appearing more alive than moments before. “Who is she?”

  His father had been consistently ask
ing him this question for the past five years, ever since he graduated university, and he clearly thought he’d met someone at the ball. Someone of marriageable status. The king’s health was failing, and age was catching up to him, and it had been his hope to see his son married with an heir and a spare for longer than Leopold could remember.

  Leopold, however, had no interest in marriage.

  Sure, eventually he’d pick someone who was eligible to be his wife. But he refused to marry strictly for money or country ties. If and when he married, it had to be because there was some sort of common ground, some spark of attraction that pushed him into it.

  He refused to feel nothing for his bride.

  And until he found that spark, that woman, he refused to wed for his country. While most royal couples were married for politics, rather than sentimental reasons, his parents had been so in love that his father still mourned the loss of his mother even after all this time.

  He wanted that.

  Not awkward conversations and stilted small talk.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Leo said quickly, shooting Harry a warning glance. The last thing he needed was his father discovering his night with Alicia. What came next would not help his cause with his runaway lover. “I danced, had a few drinks.”

  “Lies.” His father frowned. “Harry? Who is she?”

  The other man pressed his lips together in annoyance, but caved like a house of playing cards. “Alicia Forkes, Your Majesty.”

  “Traitor,” Leo hissed, mentally planning his revenge against Harry. It involved his royal sword shoved up his fucking—

  “Alicia?” The king squinted. “Isn’t that the name of the American from before?”

  “Yes.” Leo forced a calmness to his face, which he didn’t quite feel. “We ran into each other at a nightclub I visited after the ball.”

  “I always enjoyed her frank speech and free spirit,” his father said, acting far too excited for Leo to let down his guard. “Something the Americans do so well. She reminded me of your mother when she was younger, before we married. Was she happy to see you, after all the time spent apart?”

  “Not exactly.” Leopold glanced at his pompous aide, who was glowering at him as if he’d somehow insulted him, and then back to his dad. “In fact, she didn’t even remember me at all.”