Princess in the Making

by Michelle Celmer

  “So, I assume you’ll be marrying the prince instead?” he said.

  If only. “I won’t be marrying anybody.”

  “But I thought you love him.”

  “I do love him, but I could never do that to Gabriel. He’s a really good man, Dad, and he’s been through so much heartache. He loves me, and I could never betray him that way. I feel horrible that it worked out this way, as if I’ve let him down. Not to mention that it would most likely ruin his relationship with his son. I couldn’t do that to either of them. They need each other more than they need me.”

  He was quiet for several seconds, then he said, “Well, you’ve had a busy couple of weeks, haven’t you?”

  Though normally a comment like that would come off as bitter or condescending, now he just sounded surprised. She smiled, feeling both happy and sad, which seemed to be a regular thing for her lately. “You have no idea.”

  “So I guess I won’t be seeing you Thursday.”

  “No, but we should be flying home soon. Maybe we can make a quick stop in Florida on our way.”

  “I’d like that.” He paused and said, “So you really love this guy?”

  “I really love him. Mia does too. She’s grown so attached to him, and she loves being here in the palace.”

  “Are you sure you’re doing the right thing? By leaving, I mean.”

  “There isn’t anything else that I can do.”

  “Well, I’ll keep my fingers crossed that you work it out somehow. And Nessy, I know I’ve been pretty hard on you, and maybe I don’t say it often enough, but I am proud of you.”

  She’d waited an awfully long time to hear that, and as good as it felt, her entire self-worth no longer depended on it. “Thanks, Dad.”

  “It’s admirable what you’re doing. Sacrificing your own happiness for the king’s feelings.”

  “I’m not doing it to be admirable.”

  “I know. That’s why it is. Give me a call when you’re coming home and I’ll get the guest room ready.”

  “I will. I love you, Dad.”

  “I love you too, Nessy.”

  She hung up and set her phone on the table, thinking that was probably one of the nicest things her dad had ever said to her, and one of the most civilized conversations they had ever had.

  “Now aren’t you glad you called?”

  She looked up to find Marcus standing naked in the bathroom doorway, towel-drying his hair. She wondered how much of that he’d heard. Had he heard her tell her father that she loved Marcus?

  “I confronted him about the way he makes me feel, and instead of freaking out, he actually apologized.”

  “That took guts.”

  “Maybe I am brave after all. I’m not naive enough to think it will be smooth sailing from here. I’m sure he’ll have relapses, because that’s just who he is, and I’ll have to stand firm. But at least it’s a start.”

  He dropped the towel and walked toward the bed. And my goodness he looked hot. The man just oozed sex appeal. It boggled the mind that a woman would be unfaithful to him. His ex must have been out of her mind.

  He yanked the covers away and climbed into bed, tugging her down onto her back, spreading her thighs with his knee and making himself comfortable between them.

  “Thank you,” she said, running her hand across his smooth, just shaved cheek. “Thank you for making me believe in myself.”

  “That wasn’t me,” he said, kissing her gently. His lips were soft and tasted like mint. “I just pointed out what was already there. You chose to see it.”

  And without him she might never have. She was a different person now. A better person. In part because of him.

  “There’s one more thing,” he said, kissing her chin, her throat, the shell of her ear.

  She closed her eyes and sighed. “Hmm?”

  “For the record,” he whispered, “I love you, too.”

  Fifteen

  After a week of torrential rain the weather finally broke and though Marcus would have been more than happy to spend the day in Vanessa’s suite again, sunny skies and mild temperatures lured them back out into the world. A calm sea made it the perfect day for water sports, and since Vanessa had never been on a personal watercraft, he figured it was time she learned.

  They left Mia with Karin, who he thought looked relieved to have something to do. Many of the young parents he knew took full advantage of their nannies—especially the fathers, to the point that they’d never even changed a diaper—but Vanessa was very much a hands-on parent. He had the feeling Karin was bored more often than not. And because Mia was usually with them, they always took the limo on their outings, so today he decided they would take his baby for a spin.

  “This looks really old,” Vanessa said, as he opened the passenger door, which for her was on the wrong side of the car.

  “It’s a 1965. It was my grandfather’s. He was a huge Ian Fleming fan.”

  “Oh my God! Is this—”

  “An Aston Martin DB5 Saloon,” he said. “An exact replica of the car 007 drove.”

  She slipped inside, running her hand along the dash, as gently as a lover’s caress. “It’s amazing!”

  He walked around and climbed in. He started the engine, which still purred as sweetly as the day they drove it off the line, put it in gear and steered the car through the open gates, and in the direction of the marina. “I’ve always loved this car. My grandfather and I used to sneak off on Sundays and drive out into the country for hours. He would tell me stories about his childhood. He was only nineteen when his father died, and he would tell me what it was like to be a king at such a young age. At the time, I just thought it sounded exciting to be so important and have everyone look up to you. Only as I got older and began to learn how much hard work was involved did I begin to realize what a huge responsibility it would be. I used to worry that my father would die and I would be king before I was ready.”

  “How old was your father when he became king?”

  “Forty-three.”

  She was quiet for a minute, then she turned to him and said, “Let’s not go to the marina. Let’s take a drive in the country instead. Like you and your grandfather used to do.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. I would love to see the places he took you.”

  “You wouldn’t be bored?”

  She reached over, took his hand, and smiled, “With you, never.”

  “Okay, let’s go.”

  He couldn’t recall ever getting in a car with a woman and just driving. In his experience they preferred constant stimulation and entertainment, and required lavish gifts and attention. In contrast, Vanessa seemed to relish the times they simply sat around and talked, or played with her daughter. And as far as gifts go, besides the earrings—which she wore every day—he’d bought nothing but the occasional meal or snack. She required little, demanded nothing, yet gave more of herself than he could ever ask. Before now, he hadn’t even known women like her existed. That he once thought she had ulterior motives was ridiculous to him now.

  “Can I ask you a question?” she said, and he nodded. “When did you stop thinking that I was after your dad’s money?”

  And she was apparently a mind reader. “It was when we went to the village and you didn’t once use the credit card my father left for you.”

  Her mouth dropped open in surprise. “You knew about that?”

  “His assistant told me. She was concerned.”

  “Gabriel insisted that I use it, but the truth is I haven’t even taken it out of the drawer. It didn’t seem right. He gave me lots of gifts, and I insisted he take them back.”

  “Well, if the credit card hadn’t convinced me, your reaction to the earrings really drove the message home.”

  She reached up to finger the silver swirls dangling from her ears. “Why?”

  “Because I’ve never seen a woman so thrilled over such an inexpensive gift.”

  “Value has nothing to do with it. It’s the th
ought that counts. You bought them because you wanted to, because you knew that I liked them. You weren’t trying to buy my affections or win me over. You bought the earrings because you’re a sweet guy.”

  He glared at her. “I am not sweet.”

  She grinned. “Yes, you are. You’re one of the sweetest, kindest men I’ve ever met.” She paused, gave his hand a squeeze. “You know I have to go soon. I’ve probably stayed too long already. I feel like we’re tempting fate, like someone is going to figure out what we’re doing and it will get back to Gabriel. I don’t want to hurt him.”

  Though it was irrational, he almost wished it would. He didn’t want to hurt his father either, but it was getting more and more difficult to imagine letting her go. He wasn’t even sure if he could. “What if he did find out? Maybe you wouldn’t have to leave. Maybe we could explain to him. Make him understand.”

  She closed her eyes and sighed. “I can’t, Marcus. I can’t do that to him. Or to you. If our relationship came between the two of you I would never forgive myself.”

  “We don’t know for certain that he would be upset.”

  She shot him a look.

  “Okay, he probably would, but he could get over it. In fact, when he sees how much it means to me, I’m sure he will.”

  “But what if he doesn’t? That isn’t a chance I’m willing to take.”

  If she were anything like the women he’d dated in the past, this wouldn’t be an issue. She wouldn’t care who she hurt as long as she got what she wanted. Of course, then he wouldn’t love her. And he knew that once she’d made up her mind, nothing would change it.

  Her stubborn streak was one of her most frustrating yet endearing qualities. He liked that she continually challenged him. She kept him honest. And he loved her too much to risk losing her respect.

  * * *

  After a three-hour drive that they spent talking about their childhoods and families, then a stop in a small village for lunch, Marcus drove them back to the palace. He walked with her up to the nursery, only to discover that Mia had just gone down for a nap.

  “Just call me when she wakes up,” Vanessa told Karin, then she turned to Marcus and gave him the look, the one that said she had naughtiness on her mind. He followed her across the hall, but stopped her just outside her suite door.

  “How about a change of pace?”

  “What did you have in mind?” she asked, looking intrigued.

  “Let’s go to my room.”

  The smile slipped from her face. “Marcus…”

  “But you’ve never even seen it.”

  “If someone sees us go in there—”

  “The family wing is very private. And if you want, we won’t do anything but talk. We can even leave the door open. We can pretend like I’m giving you a tour of the family wing.”

  She looked hesitant. “I don’t know.”

  Despite the risk of being discovered by a passing employee, he took her hand. “We haven’t got much time left. Give me the chance to share at least a small part of my life with you.”

  He could see her melting before his eyes. Finally she smiled and said, “Okay.”

  What he hadn’t told was that just the other day Cleo had confronted him about all the time they had been spending together.

  “Talk to my father,” he’d told Cleo. “He’s the one who wanted me to keep her entertained.”

  Her brows rose. “Entertained?”

  “You know what I mean.”

  She flashed him a told-you-so smile. “I take it you’re finding that she’s not as terrible as you thought?”

  “Not terrible at all,” he’d told her, diffusing the situation entirely. Because if she believed the relationship was platonic, no one on the staff, except maybe George, would question it. But he still didn’t dare tell Vanessa about the exchange. Especially now.

  Under the ruse of tour guide, Marcus led Vanessa through the palace to the family wing, and the employees they did encounter only bowed politely, and showed not even a hint of suspicion. When they got to his suite, the hall was deserted. He opened the door and gestured her inside.

  “Wow,” she said, walking to the center of the living room and gazing around. He stood by the open door watching her take it all in. “It’s huge. As big as an apartment. You even have a kitchen.”

  “I insisted. I figured, if I have to live here in the palace, I need a space of my own.”

  “I like it. It’s very tasteful, and masculine without being too overpowering.” She turned to him. “Comfortable.”

  “Thank you. And my designer thanks you.”

  “How many rooms?”

  “Master suite, office, kitchen and living room.”

  She nodded slowly. “It’s nice.”

  “I’m glad you like it.”

  She dropped her purse on the leather sofa and turned to him. “Maybe you should close the door.”

  “But I thought we agreed—”

  “Close the door, Marcus.” She was wearing that look again, so he closed it. “Lock it too.”

  He locked it, and crossed the room to where she was standing. “Changed your mind, did you?”

  She slid her hands up his chest, started unfastening the buttons on his shirt. “Maybe it’s the element of danger, but the closer we got to your room, the more turned on I got.” She rose up on her toes and kissed him, yanking his shirt from the waist of his slacks. “Or maybe, when we’re alone, I just can’t keep my hands off you.”

  The feeling was mutual.

  “I know it’s wrong, but I just can’t stop myself. Doesn’t that make me a terrible person?”

  “If it does, I’m a terrible person, too. Which could very well mean we deserve each other.”

  She tugged his shirt off, but before she could get to work on his belt, he picked her up and hoisted her over his shoulder. She let out a screech of surprise, then laughed.

  “Marcus, what are you doing!”

  “Manhandling you,” he said, carrying her to the bedroom and kicking the door open.

  “Not that I mind, but why?”

  He tossed her down onto the bed, on top of the duvet, then he reached under her dress, hooked his fingers in the waist of her panties and yanked them down. “Because I am not sweet.”

  She grinned up at him. “Well, I stand corrected.”

  Then she grabbed him by the shoulders, pulled him down on top of her and kissed him.

  Every time he made love to her he thought it couldn’t possibly get better, but she always managed to top herself. She was sexy and adventurous, and completely confident in her abilities as a lover, and modest was a word not even in her vocabulary. She seemed to instinctively know exactly what to do to drive him out of his mind, and she was so damned easy to please—she had a sensitive spot behind her knees that if stroked just right would set her off like a rocket.

  She liked it slow and sensual, hard and fast, and she even went a little kinky on him at times. If there were an ideal sexual mate for everyone, there was no doubt in his mind that she was his. And each time they made love that became more clear.

  Maybe, he thought, as she unfastened his pants, it was less about skill, and more about the intense feelings of love and affection they shared. But then she slid her hand inside his boxers, wrapped it around his erection and slowly stroked him, and his thoughts became all hazy and muddled. She made it so easy to forget the world around him, to focus on her and her alone. And he wondered what it would be like this time, slow and tender or maybe hot and sweaty. Or would she get that mischievous twinkle in her eyes and do something that would make most women blush?

  Vanessa pushed him over onto his back and climbed on top of him, then she yanked her dress up over her head and tossed it onto the floor. Hot and sweaty, he thought with a grin—his particular favorite—and as she thrust against him, impaling herself on his erection, she was so hot and tight and wet, he stopped thinking altogether. And as they reached their climax together, then collapsed in each other’
s arms, he told himself that there had to be some way to talk her into staying.

  And at the same time, his conscience asked the question: To what end?

  Sixteen

  Somewhere in the back of Marcus’s mind he heard pounding.

  What the hell was that? he wondered, and what could he do to make it stop? Then he realized, it was his door. Someone was knocking on his bedroom door.

  His eyes flew open, and he tried to sit up, but there was a warm body draped across his chest. He and Vanessa must have fallen asleep. He looked over at the clock, and realized that it was past suppertime. Oh hell. No doubt Mia was awake by now.

  He shook Vanessa. “Wake up!”

  Her eyes fluttered open and she gave him a sleepy smile. “Hey.”

  “We fell asleep. It’s late.”

  She shot up in bed and squinted at the clock, then she uttered a very unladylike curse. “Where’s my phone? Mia must be awake by now. Why didn’t Karin call me?”

  The pounding started again as they both jumped out of bed.

  “Who is that?” Vanessa asked, frantically looking around, he assumed, for her purse.

  He tugged his pants on. “Stay here. I’ll go see.”

  He rushed out to the living room, unlocked the door and yanked it open. Cleo’s hand was in the air, poised to knock again.

  “There you are!” she said.

  “I was…taking a nap,” he said, raking a hand through his tousled hair. “I haven’t been sleeping well.”

  “Well, we have a problem. Poor Karin is frantic. Mia woke from her nap an hour ago but she can’t find Vanessa. She’s not answering her phone and I can’t find her anywhere in the palace. I thought perhaps you knew where I might find her.”

  Was that suspicion in her eyes? “She probably went for a walk,” Marcus said. “Maybe she forgot her phone.”

  “If she left the palace, security would know about it.”

  He opened his mouth to reply and she added, “But just in case, I had them check the gardens and she isn’t out there. It’s as if she disappeared.”

  “Give me a minute to get dressed and I’ll find her.”