The Anti-Cinderella Conquers the World

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The Anti-Cinderella Conquers the World Page 15

by Tawdra Kandle


  “I should start listening to myself, I guess.” He brushed a kiss onto the side of my neck.

  “You should.” I rested my head on his shoulder, taking a moment to simply be and appreciate that we were sitting here, together, in our cozy home. We’d come so close to losing this—to losing us—in so many ways.

  With that thought at the forefront of my mind, I shot an elbow against Nicky’s ribs, driving out a sharp oomph as he doubled over.

  “What the hell was that for?” He glared at me, a wounded expression on his face.

  “That was for scaring me to death. That was for making me walk into a hospital room and having to see you lying unconscious and injured, with tubes coming out of you everywhere, while the doctors told us they weren’t sure if you would recover or how you would be if you did wake up. That was for every terrified breath I drew in before you opened your eyes.” I huffed out a breath before adding, “I would’ve smacked you upside the head, but I was being kind, seeing that your brain is still healing from its trauma.”

  “I have bruises and contusions all over me, you might recall.” Nicky rubbed at his side.

  “I don’t remember seeing anything in that particular spot.” Crossing my arms, I treated him to a withering, narrow-eyed stare. “I chose my target wisely.”

  “Oh, and I should be grateful for that?” He made a grand show of shifting away from me, as if I might strike again.

  “Absolutely.” I nodded. “I think I’m entitled to be more than a little pissed off, and to be honest, it might last for a while.”

  “I see.” Nicky studied me, and I watched as his expression softened, his lips parted slightly, and something that was not contrition spread over his face. A predatory gleam sparkled in his eyes.

  “Nicky . . .” I began, warning evident in my tone.

  “Kyra,” he echoed, mocking me even as he leaned closer to me, creeping ever nearer.

  I scrambled into the corner of the couch, holding out one arm. “No, Nicky. That’s not—don’t you dare!”

  He chuckled. “Why not?”

  “For one thing, the doctors said you were not supposed to resume regular physical activity for another four weeks. You’re supposed to be resting and not doing anything that might hurt your brain.”

  “Oh, what I have in mind isn’t going to hurt my brain at all,” he assured me. “As a matter of fact, it might even be good for me—drawing the blood away from my head to another body part, you know.”

  “For another thing—” I hopped up to sit on the back of the sofa, attempting to stay out of his reach. “For another thing, I’m still angry with you. Softening me up with sex isn’t going to work, buddy.” I shook my finger at him. “It’s going to take days—maybe weeks—of groveling before I’m ready to stop being mad.”

  “But I do my best groveling naked. On my back, with you straddling my hips.” He leered at me, wagging his eyebrows, and then wincing, pressed one hand to his forehead. “Ouch. That actually hurt. Just moving my eyebrows gave me a headache.” Settling back against the sofa cushions, he cast me a rueful glance. “You might be onto something with the rest and recuperating business.”

  “Just another time I’m right.” I slid down, bouncing on the couch before I snuggled next to him again. “But don’t worry. Out of respect for your head, I won’t do the I-told-you-so dance this time.”

  “Thank you. I appreciate your restraint.” Nicky slung his arm around me and tugged me close. “Maybe for now, we should simply stick to cuddling.”

  “I’m all about that.” I smiled, nuzzling into his embrace. “What about moving this party upstairs and cuddling in bed? We could turn on Captain America and doze. I wouldn’t mind a nap.”

  “Which one?” he inquired lazily. “Civil War or Winter Soldier?”

  “I was thinking all three, starting with The First Avenger,” I suggested. “We can just turn them on and then watch ‘til we sleep.”

  “Sounds like the perfect plan.” Nicky caressed my arm. “Should we arrange for some food for later? I’m not necessarily hungry now, but I will be. Hospital food sucks.”

  “Alex and Jake are bringing over soup and sandwiches later on.” I patted Nicky’s stomach. “But I could probably manage to put something together sooner. We do need to fatten you up. You’ve lost weight, being in the hospital.”

  “See my previous comment, re: hospital food sucks,” he murmured drowsily. His eyes were already closed, and I could sense his body relaxing into sleep. “But no, I’ll live until the rations arrive.” He tightened his hold on me. “I don’t want you to move.”

  “Ever?” I teased.

  “Possibly. Just think how many issues we could avoid and problems we could solve if you and I just stayed here and never moved again.”

  “I think I made a similar suggestion several months ago, when we were still on the island. And you made fun of me.” I gave his ribs a much gentler poke than what he’d gotten earlier from my elbow.

  Nicky’s eyes half-opened, and he blinked at me. “Ky, you’re brilliant.”

  I tilted my head. “Clearly, but what makes you say that right now?”

  “You’ve just given me the most fantastic idea.” He tucked a lock of hair behind my ear. “I need some dedicated recovery time, and you and I need some couple time. Alone. Away from work and family and reporters and duties.”

  “I agree with you,” I said cautiously, still not sure where he was going with this.

  “I think you were completely right when we were on our honeymoon. We never should’ve left that island. So . . .” A beatific smile settled on his lips as he gingerly settled his head on the sofa cushion again. “I’m taking you back there—to the island.”

  “You are?” I frowned, surprised.

  “Yes, I am. You and I, my darling, are embarking on a second honeymoon.”

  “THIS WAS, WITHOUT A DOUBT, the best idea you ever had.”

  Nicky and I lay together in a huge white hammock on the beach, the rhythm of the crashing waves providing a soundtrack to this utterly perfect afternoon. A soft breeze wafted over us, and the sun shone down warmth that seeped into my bones. I was relaxed in every possible way.

  “I think technically it was your idea. I’m just the one who made it possible.” Nicky trailed a line of kisses down my neck, nudging the neckline of my cotton dress a little lower to give him more access to my skin. “I was happy to oblige.”

  My hand wandered down from its spot on Nicky’s shoulder blade to stroke the curve and muscle of his backside. “You are very obliging in every good way.”

  “I’m glad you feel like that, because I’m willing to oblige you again in just a few moments.” The palm of his hand brushed over my breast, making me shiver as the nipple hardened. “Or maybe even sooner.”

  “You’re very ambitious, Prince Nicholas.” I arched my back, bringing our bodies more closely into alignment, so that the part of him that was growing longer and harder rubbed seductively against the part of me that was beginning to throb with need. “I like that in a man. I particularly like that in a husband.”

  The hammock swung a little bit more wildly, tilting us to one side as Nicky’s movements became less controlled and more daring. He balanced himself over me so that I gazed up into his intent blue stare.

  “Do you have any idea how much I love you?” He dipped his head to tease me with a kiss. “Do you have the slightest notion of how deep and wide and absolutely wild my love for you is? When I look at you, my Ky, all I can see is . . . joy. And the kind of peace I’ve always dreamed of knowing.”

  Tears burned my eyes, and I blinked them back. “I love you so much, Nicky. I’m not sure how it happened, but somehow, I love you more now than I did the day we got married. And I promise you that I never thought that was possible, because I loved you to absolute distraction that day. But it has. Living with you, being your wife, being part of your family . . . everything we’ve shared and experienced and fought and lived through . . . it’s made me f
all so deeply in love you all over again that I can’t imagine loving you more. But I have a funny feeling that I will, every single day. For as long as we both shall live.”

  Nicky made a small noise in the back of his throat just before he slowly and gently lowered his body over me. He took my mouth in a kiss that was a promise, a renewal and the most fervent, beautiful vow I could ever want. For a long moment, we lingered in that kiss, simply being.

  And then his lips nudged mine open, and his tongue wandered in to stroke over mine, to ask for more. I was eager to give him exactly that, and as our mouths played and dared, I slipped my fingers underneath the waistband of the loose swim trunks he was wearing. Nicky grunted in pleasure and encouragement when I wrapped my hand around his hard, thick length.

  “I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to lift up your dress, darling.” He nuzzled just below my ear, the brush of his breath against my neck making me tremble. “In this position, if I try to do it myself, I’m afraid we might tumble out of the hammock.”

  “I’m more than happy to help.” Shooting him a smile that I hoped was sultry, I groped for the hem of the cover-up dress and pulled it up to my waist before I wriggled out of the bathing suit bottoms beneath it, kicking them away blindly. “There. I don’t think I can do more than that. If I try to take off my top, I might elbow you in the eye.”

  “I can work with this.” Nicky bent his head to suckle at me, soaking the material of both the dress and the thin bikini top. It was entirely different sensation, feeling the friction of the cloth as well as the pull of his lips and tongue, and I shivered, moaning a little in my appreciation of his efforts.

  As he moved his head to the other side, I carefully raised one foot and hooked my toes to his trunks, pausing just long enough to ease the bathing suit around his jutting erection.

  “Your talent knows no bounds, Ky,” Nicky breathed, raising his eyes to meet mine. “I had no clue you could do that with your feet. We might have to explore some ideas I have in that regard.”

  “Do you have a foot fetish, Your Royal Highness?” I asked coquettishly.

  “Only one pair of feet turn me on, love.” He canted his hips until the smooth length of his sex lay heavy against my core. “One pair of feet. One set of breasts. One . . . glorious . . . and insanely sexy woman.”

  On that last word, he raised up, and finding my entrance, plunged deeply into me in one perfect thrust. I arched my back and braced my feet on the edges of the hammock, desperately seeking a way to be able to move my body to the rhythm he was setting for us.

  “Relax, sweetheart,” Nicky murmured. “Let me love you. I’ll take care of you . . . always.”

  “You always have.” Reaching up, I stroked the backs of my fingers over his cheek. “From the time we were teenagers on the beach, you’ve always looked after me.”

  His smile was brilliant, and then his eyes slid shut as he began moving slowly within me. The slide of his flesh into mine was somehow more sensuous, more erotic, than any fast and furious coupling. My breath came faster, my chest rising and falling rapidly. Nicky’s jaw clenched, and I could feel that he was holding back, waiting for me to find my release.

  Slipping my hand down between us, I rubbed my fingers over my own slick folds. When I touched Nicky, too, at the spot where we were joined, he groaned loud and long, losing his tightly-held control and unleashing the full fury of his need.

  His reckless abandon sent me spiraling into pure ecstasy, my climax gripping every part of me until all I could see were showers of light and all I could feel was us. Nothing else existed in that moment except Nicky, me, and what we’d created between us.

  Afterward, as we held tight to each other in the slowly swinging hammock, Nicky swept back my hair from my face.

  “This is our new beginning.” He pressed a kiss to my forehead. “This is starting over. What came before wasn’t wrong, and it wasn’t bad, but I made mistakes, and I’m not going to make them again. I promise you that here and now. This is my new vow to you, Kyra.”

  “Nicky.” I cupped his cheek in my hand. “Sweetheart, you might not make that mistake again, but you’ll make other ones—and God knows, I will, too. Probably many more than you.” I touched my fingertip to his lips. “That’s okay. Life is a series of mistakes and missteps, with moments of perfection and good choices between them. The point is that as long as we come back to each other between mistakes and figure out how to make them right, we’ll be fine. We’re going to grow together, Nicky. Right now, lying here in this hammock with you, I’m not the same person I was when we met in Maine just over two years ago. I’m not the same person I was when I moved to London last year. Good God, I’m not even the same person I was when we got married seven months ago. And this time next year, we’ll both be different. But we’ll get there together. Loving each other, forgiving each other.”

  Nicky laughed softly. “All right then, oh, wise one. Then let me say this. My renewed promise to you is that I will love you whoever you become, and if you make mistakes, I will forgive each one. And when I make them, I will come to you and ask your forgiveness and understanding. How is that?”

  I sighed happily, replete with drowsy satisfaction and relaxation. “That, my love, is the most beautiful vow you have ever made me. And so I make it right back to you.”

  Lying there together as the sun dropped below the horizon, painting the beach and the sea in vivid oranges and reds, we fell in love all over again, and in its imperfection, it was indeed made perfect.

  COMING BACK FROM OUR HONEYMOON to London in early summer had been hard enough. But returning to foggy, drizzly, cold winter England after two weeks on a tropical island was absolutely brutal.

  “Remind me again why we can’t be ambassadors of Her Majesty somewhere that is perennially warm and sunny?” I groused to Nicky as we dressed in the dim morning light.

  “We could. Or at least, we could ask about it.” He shot me a grin, leaning over to tie his shoes. “But you know, even paradise can wear thin after a while, I imagine. You might find yourself missing fog and chilly temps.”

  “That’s doubtful.” I perched on the bed next to him, laying my head on his shoulder. “But I’ll be all sappy and shit and say that anywhere you are is paradise for me. That means if London is where you have to be, I’m here, too, for the duration.”

  “Your loyalty and steadfast love are appreciated, darling.” He kissed my forehead. “And you look gorgeous. Let’s go, before I’m overcome by the temptation to drag you back into bed and forget about this visit.”

  I groaned. “Now you’re just being mean, dangling that possibility in front of me.” I glanced at him hopefully. “I could say I’m sick. Or that you have a headache and we thought you needed rest.”

  “Nice try, sweetheart, but we both know that we have to go.” He offered me his hand. “Let’s get moving. The sooner we get to Windsor, the sooner we can come home again.”

  Nicky wasn’t wrong; I did know, as well as he did, that we had to make the trek to Windsor. When we’d made the decision to fly to the island for Nicky’s recovery and spend two weeks there on our own, we’d realized that it would mean missing the traditional Christmas festivities with the rest of the Royal Family. That wasn’t something that was ever undertaken lightly, but given the events of the past year, Her Majesty had been quick to give us her blessing.

  The only caveat had been that we agree to spend our first weekend back with the rest of the clan at Windsor, so that the family could see for themselves that Nicky was alive and well. That was why this morning, a mere three days after landing in London, we’d packed overnight bags and were on our way out of town again.

  I had to admit that I had a soft spot for this particular royal residence. After all, Nicky and I had gotten married in St. George’s Chapel here last year, and I’d spent the week before the wedding with my family at Fort Belvedere, a house on the grounds of the estate. Despite the vastness of the castle itself, the rooms where we gathered as
a family were cozy and comfortable.

  The Queen and the Duke of Edinburgh greeted us both warmly in the sitting room after we’d arrived and settled into our room. Her Majesty held her grandson at arm’s length and studied him critically.

  “Yes, you look much better,” she declared after a moment. “Your color is back, and so is the sparkle in your eye.” She smiled at me over Nicky’s shoulder. “That means he’s going to keep you on your toes again, Kyra.”

  I laughed. “I’m counting on it, ma’am.” I performed the required curtsy before I stepped forward to kiss the Queen’s cheek. “Hello, Granny. Thank you for having us this weekend.”

  Her Majesty squeezed my hand. “Thank you for coming. I’m sure it wasn’t easy to leave the sunshine and sand behind.” She cast a fond glance at her husband, who’d resumed his seat on the sofa. “I remember those days, when we were a young married couple, stationed down at Gibraltar. Philip and I hated to return to England, no matter that it was home. There was such a lovely difference in being down there.”

  “We were tempted to stay,” Nicky admitted, waiting for his grandmother to settle into her wingchair before he drew me down on the loveseat next to him. “Kyra was angling for an ambassadorship to somewhere tropical.”

  I glared at Nicky, my face going warm, but the Queen only laughed. “I’m afraid there’s a long list of people ahead of you for those spots, Kyra, darling. But I’ll tell the secretaries to keep you both in mind when they’re setting up the calendar for overseas trips. We’ll try to make sure you’re considered for representing the Commonwealth in warm places, not cold ones.”

  “I do appreciate it, ma’am.” I exchanged a glance with Nicky. “But for now, we’re happy to be home, and glad to be with everyone this weekend.”

  “The rest of the family will be arriving shortly,” the Duke said. “But we wanted to have a few moments alone with you both before the onslaught of children and noise.”

 

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