Gaelen Foley

by Prince Charming

  Tonight marked a new start, he thought as he nodded to a servant who bowed to him. He climbed the stairs wearily, still trying to absorb the fact that he was married. He hadn’t expected to feel any different, but he did.

  Outside the bedroom door, he paused as he laid his hand on the knob. There was no telling what he’d find when he opened the door. She could be sleeping. She could be crying. She could be waiting to hurl a dagger in his chest, for all he knew.

  With a smile and a sigh, he started to turn the knob. His smile flattened to a look of displeasure but no real surprise.

  Locked.

  Wearily, he found the key in his waistcoat pocket and unlocked it, pausing before he went in, half fearful some strange booby trap awaited him. He quickly scanned his memory for some of his favorite practical jokes from boyhood. A bucket of water above the door to dump down on his head? A wire for him to trip over?

  She wouldn’t dare.

  Bravely, he pushed the door open and peered in. The chamber was dark, the curtains billowing gently over the open doors to the balcony. He squinted his eyes as his gaze moved to the bed. A luminous pile of white satin. He frowned with another disturbing surge of the tender chivalry she aroused in him. Had his poor little bride collapsed in exhaustion without even bothering to undress?

  “Daniela?” he said softly, closing the door behind him.

  But when he walked to the bed and touched the puff of silk and petticoats, his eyes widened. There was no girl in it.

  He whirled, staring around the room. She was gone. Shocked even as he cursed himself for not expecting this, he strode toward the balcony just as the thin little cry reached him from beyond, somewhere in the darkness.

  “Heeeelp!”

  CHAPTER

  ELEVEN

  A bead of sweat rolled down the side of her face as Dani clung with all her strength to the turret that was less than fifteen feet from the balcony.

  Her vision had adjusted to the moonlight, and by its blue glow she saw the glint of anger in her husband’s eyes, but his face assumed that maddening look of wry amusement as he rested his hands on the balcony’s railing and regarded her with polite interest.

  “Whatever are you doing out there, my dear?”

  “Oh, don’t be a beast now,” she pleaded angrily, glancing at the ground God-knew-how-many feet below while she kept her arms wrapped tightly around the small turret. “I’m s-stuck. I’m going to die.”

  “Don’t be morbid, Daniela,” he said cheerfully as he stripped off his coat, then swung his leg over the rail. “I am your husband and I shall save you.”

  “Be careful!” she said, as it registered in a corner of her brain that this good cheer from him under such circumstances probably meant he was infuriated with her.

  “Nonsense, I shall tell our children all about this night,” he continued as he slid with nonchalant grace down the curve of the mansard roof and stood at its edge, considering his next move. “And our children’s children. And our children’s children’s children.” He jumped.

  Dani gasped.

  He landed, left foot first, with agile grace on the same small, flat perch she had used. She blinked, staring, her heart pounding.

  “In fact,” he said as he stepped across a ravine, “I shall have it written into the annals of Ascencion’s history. Better yet, I’ll declare it a holiday. Roof-climbing day, what?”

  She suddenly gasped in horror as he teetered on his feet for a moment, laughing.

  “You’re drunk!”

  Pressing himself flat against the turret as he came around to her, he looked up indignantly. “I am not. That wouldn’t be very gentlemanly of me, would it? You being a vestal virgin and all. How the devil did you get up there?”

  “You lunatic! I cannot believe you’re drunk! You’re going to get us both killed!”

  “Tut, tut, my dear, I’ve done much stupider things than this and survived intact. Why did you climb up on that turret? I believe the direction you wanted was down.”

  She pursed her mouth. “I was trying to come back.”

  “Were you?” He passed a keen glance over her face.

  “P-please, Your Highness. I don’t know how much longer I can hold on.”

  He grinned up at her suddenly with a twinkle in his eyes that dimmed the stars. “Will you hold me as tightly as you’re holding that turret?”

  She squeezed her eyes shut. “I despise him, God. I despise him.” She heard him laugh. She shot her eyes open. “This is not funny!”

  “Ah, right. Here’s what we’re going to do. Give me a moment.” With his much larger stride, he was able to straddle the gap in the roof that had caused her dilemma. He anchored his left foot against the angle of the roof, while his right remained planted on the narrow rim around the turret. Balanced precariously over the distant earth, he reached up his hands for her.

  “You’ve got to be joking,” she croaked as he firmly grasped her hips.

  “Let go,” he commanded, suddenly no humor in his voice.

  “You’ve got nothing to hold on to. You’ll fall! Go back inside!”

  “Don’t be frightened, sweetheart,” he coaxed. “Let go. Come with me. Slowly.”

  “Rafael.”

  “It’s all right. Just let go. I won’t let you fall.”

  She closed her eyes at his gentle tone, but even though she was willing to obey, her arms would not come unclamped from the pointy turret. “I can’t.”

  “Hush,” he said. “Come. I won’t let you get hurt. You’ve got to trust me, darling.”

  She swallowed hard. “A-all right. I’m going to start letting go now.”

  “Good. Be still in my arms.”

  She knew any sudden movements could upset his balance. Cursing herself for putting them both in this position, she raked her fingers down the roof as his grip around her hips tightened, lowering her, inch by inch. She prayed frantically in her mind.

  She could feel the enormous strength in Rafael’s arms, shoulders, and chest as he eased her against him. His movements were slow, careful, and balanced, executed with a grace which she could only conclude had been developed over years of training in fencing, for the whole kingdom knew he was an accomplished swordsman. With his great leg strength he held them both miraculously steadfast over an abyss.

  She could do nothing but wait, her heart in her throat, as he pushed off from the rim around the turret and leaned backward, pulling her and himself over the void.

  They both fell upon the small flat perch to relative safety. She lay there panting in frightened relief, thanking God countless times in her mind.

  “I wonder if that earned me a kiss,” he mused aloud.

  She looked at him, her eyes narrowed. He smiled roguishly, a few gold strands of hair falling free against his angular cheek. “No?”

  “We’re not inside yet.”

  “Can’t blame me for trying,” he remarked. “Must be those little breeches of yours. Really torment a man’s imagination, if you don’t mind my saying.” He lay back on the roof, folding his arms under his head. “Beautiful night. You know, girls have risked their lives trying to get into my bedroom, not out. You are the first. You are indeed the first,” he repeated more softly, his faraway stare fixed on the moon.

  She gazed at his profile, his absurdly long lashes, his imperious nose and broad forehead. A wave of shame for her cowardice rose in her. “I’m sorry, Rafael.”

  “Well, my little cabbage-head, I suppose you are forgiven.”

  “I am?”

  “I told you there is only one thing you could do that would anger me.”

  “Lie.”

  “Yes.”

  “Rafael?”

  “My mother calls me Rafael, you know.” The moonlight slid across his cheek as he turned to gaze at her. The golden stubble of his day’s beard gave his classically handsome face a rough edge that rather pleased her. He reached out his hand and cupped her face. “You have beautiful eyes. What is it?”

  Sh
e didn’t pull away, but at his flirting, she utterly forgot what she had meant to say. His thoughtful look turned to a smile.

  “I can feel you blushing under my palm,” he murmured, then he pinched her cheek. Judiciously, he pulled his hand back and folded it under his head again.

  Dani stared out over the distant sea. “Do you charm all your women this way?”

  He paused. She sensed him stiffen as though her softly uttered question stung him, but his tone was dry. “Well, I don’t always rescue them from plunging to their deaths, but generally speaking, yes.”

  “This is your system, then.”

  “No. I don’t have a system. For seduction, you see, is not a science. It is an art. And you, my dear, are in the hands of a Michelangelo.”

  “Are you going to—well, never mind, of course you are. How stupid of me—”

  “What?”

  “Never mind.”

  “What, Dani?” he whispered, looking over at her with a slight, wicked smile. “Am I going to seduce you?”

  “No! That wasn’t my question!” she gasped in mortified shock.

  “What’s on your mind?”

  She dropped her gaze, blushing to the roots of her hair, but she had to try to ascertain if he was at all serious about her. “You—you are going to keep your mistress, of course. Ms. Sinclair?”

  She knew he was staring at her but she could not bring herself to look at him. Her voice was hollow and strained, her words tumbling out fast in the awkward silence. “Perhaps it would be easier if we just went inside now and got it over with—” she started, but as she shifted to get to her feet, his iron grip wrapped around her waist, and the next thing she knew, she was on her back and he was covering her mouth in kisses. A few strands of his long hair fell forward, brushing her face like silk, and his hand cupped her cheek and caressed her neck, her hair. It was glorious.

  Worse, her arms went at once around his neck as if of their own accord and she held him with an indescribable sense of pained joy. Slowly she understood that he desired to part her lips, and slowly she gave way, opening her mouth.

  He breathed her name then gave her a deep, slow kiss full of feeling, stroking her tongue with his own. There was nothing in her world in that moment but Rafael. His mouth on hers, his hands on her skin, the rock-hard musculature of his shoulders and back under her palms as she clutched him to her.

  Deeper and deeper he kissed her, moving partly atop her, his big body warm and lean. His left forearm pillowed her head, but she felt his right hand wandering down from her neck, exploring her body. He laid his hand on her midriff, and she wondered if he could feel her heartbeat pounding in the core of her.

  She felt a small tug on her shirt and realized he was unbuttoning it. She tore her mouth away from his. “Rafael,” she breathed as his hand slipped inside her shirt and cupped her breast. She groaned, arching her head back, eyes closed.

  Never had she dreamed a man’s touch could be so incredibly warm, so tender. Rafael’s kiss lingered at her throat, lips like satin and his day-beard like soft, scratchy sand. Only his hand moved inside her shirt, gently caressing her breast.

  She did not realize she was holding her breath as he trailed his thumb and forefinger along her nipple, teasing it to aching arousal before gently kneading her soft flesh again in his large warm hand. Moments passed, but she had lost all track of time. She groaned again when his touch left her skin—an anguished sound at the denial.

  “Soon, my pet. Patience.” Gentle amusement warmed his deep whisper, but it was enough to remind her that she was supposed to somehow resist.

  Obediently buttoning her shirt again, he rested his hand on her midriff and looked down at her. Panting, she opened her eyes and stared up at him dazedly. His smile was faint, and an odd sort of world-weary wisdom shone in his eyes under his long gold-tipped lashes. In the black sky behind him, the moon sat cool and white, like a dove perched on his shoulder.

  He rested his cheek on his fist, his elbow braced on the roof’s rough surface. She realized her hands were still clasped behind his neck. She realized, too, that she had no wish to let him go.

  “You see?” he murmured, drawing circles on her belly with his fingertip. “Nothing to fear.”

  She wasn’t sure of that, but she gave him a drowsy smile, deep under the spell that his kisses had cast on her. “You dodged my question with consummate skill.”

  “I didn’t dodge it. I wanted to kiss my wife. Is that so wrong?”

  “Well? What is the answer? Or don’t you want to tell me?”

  He lowered his lashes and toyed with a button on her shirt. “It is a concession I am loath to make.”

  “You are in love with her,” she said with a cold twist in her middle.

  “Not by a long shot,” he declared. “It’s the principle of the thing.”

  “What principle?” she asked dubiously.

  “Well, if I were to obey you in this matter, then you might take it into your head that you can bully me around like those peasant boys of yours—”

  “I’m sure I have never bullied anyone!”

  “On the other hand, if your reason for making this request was that you wanted me all to yourself in a…jealous sort of way, I don’t see how I could refuse.” He gave her a winning little smile, but she narrowed her eyes at him again.

  “Has anyone ever told you that you are, oh, just a trifle arrogant?”

  “Me?” he exclaimed, his eyes teasing her. His voice softened and he sifted his fingers gently through her hair. “I have already removed her from the palace, Daniela. I will not shame my wife.”

  She looked away, disappointed that he did not offer to break off the affair entirely. “Well, thank you for that courtesy,” she said stiffly.

  “Are you sure you don’t want me to yourself? You’d better speak up now or hold your peace. I mean it. You’d better claim me if you want me.” He grinned at her, baiting her.

  “What good would it do me?”

  “You never know.”

  I might as well want the moon, she thought, but instead of answering, she only touched her knuckles gently to the hard line of his golden, scruffy cheek. He smiled seductively and gave a slow, heavy-lidded blink, visibly enjoying her touch.

  “Rafael?”

  His deep murmur caressed her. “Yes, Dani?”

  “Were you shocked that I tried to escape?”

  “No.”

  “Were you shocked that I came back?”

  “No.”

  “No?” she echoed, surprised by his answer because her own decision to return had taken even herself off guard. Her conscience had stopped her from going any farther. The man had spared her and her friends’ lives. She owed him better than to run away without explanation, especially when she knew that he had been betrayed before.

  “You gave me your word. A moment of fear is understandable under the circumstances, but you gave me your oath and I know you’re not a coward.”

  She looked away, hiding her distress. “Rafael?” she asked more quietly.

  “Yes, Dani?” he answered with a small, contented sigh.

  “I’m sorry I punched you,” she whispered. “And kicked you. Twice. Even if you did deserve it.”

  “Sorry I shot you,” he answered, giving her a glum look.

  “Well, you had due cause,” she admitted gravely. “I did rob you.”

  He turned and stared at her, bafflement in his eyes.

  “What?” she asked.

  He shook his head, then began laughing, low and husky.

  “What is it? I don’t see anything funny—are you mocking me again?”

  “Hush.” He leaned down and kissed her lips, still laughing softly. “I do believe I am smitten with you, Princess Daniela di Fiore.”

  “Spare me your gallantries, Rafe!” she retorted with a blush, but her slight smile told him she was pleased.

  Pushing up, he stood and leaned down to offer her his hand. “Come on. Let’s go inside.”

&nbs
p; The thought of going into the bedroom with him nearly unnerved her, but she couldn’t stay out on the roof for the rest of her life, she thought, so she joined him. They climbed back carefully to the balcony. Rafael never let go of her hand. She saw it was fortunate indeed that he had come along to rescue her, for although it had been easy enough to slide down the curving mansard roofs, going back up would have been impossible for someone of her five-and-a-half foot height. Rafael, however, at about six-foot-three, was easily able to vault the slick surface, either lifting her ahead of him then climbing up after her, or going up first and pulling her up by her hand. The climb taxed even her wiry athleticism, but he was dauntless.

  When at last she gained the balcony’s railing after him, he opened his arms to her, inviting her playfully to jump into his arms. Intrigued by her husband’s enigmatic smile in the dark, she let go of the railing and reached out to him, her heart skipping a beat with the mad risk of total trust, but he caught her in his embrace.

  He didn’t put her down. Instead, he turned around, pressed her back gently against the wall, and lowered his lips to hers, parting them. His slow, savoring kiss spoke louder than any words that it was going to be a memorable night, but fear whispered through her. Danger was mounting by the moment.

  His two-handed grip on her backside tightened and he gave a low, throaty laugh that drove her wild. Immediately she clamped down mentally against the surge of desire. They were too near the bedroom—too near the bed—but his wet, hot kisses were like candy, and she was eagerly devouring them. She couldn’t seem to help it, no more than she could stop herself from caressing his chest, freeing his hair from the queue, running its silken lengths through her fingers.

  She wanted him so much, wanted to touch him everywhere, as he had done to her that night on the yacht.

  He secured her against the wall, lifting her thighs to his hips, one then the other, coaxing her to wrap her legs around him. Despairing of safety, Dani obeyed, and when he seemed satisfied that he had her body securely twined around him, only then did he come up for air from the drowning kisses he was giving her.