A Prince For Sophie

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A Prince For Sophie Page 12

by Morgan Ashbury


  He caught the expression on Sophie’s face and chuckled.

  “Where is your major domo?”

  “I don’t have a major domo.”

  He waited with his hand on the door knob because he knew she wasn’t quite finished.

  “Well, I suppose the chalet is a bit small for a full staff. But surely there’s a housekeeper?”

  Stephan tried not to laugh as her curiosity was replaced by confusion. “No, sorry,” he answered cheerfully. “No housekeeper.”

  “A maid? A cook? You can’t be out here in the wilds of Montgermane all alone. You’re a crown prince.”

  Her tone was so totally reasonable, he suspected she was about to receive the biggest shock of her life. But since she was still acting the role of princess, he decided to respond just as reasonably. “Yes, you’re right. And I’m not really alone, not ever. Beyond where you can see, in those woods, there is a barracks. There are security personnel on duty around the clock. The property is quite secure, I assure you.”

  “But what about inside?”

  “Inside, there is no one. At least not until we cross the threshold, then there will be just you and me.”

  Pushing the door open all the way, he turned and scooped Sophie up into his arms. Her squeal of surprise triggered his laughter. He stepped into the house, spun them in a circle, and kicked the door shut with his foot.

  “Stephan, you maniac, set me down!”

  He did, but kept his arms around her, laughing down into her upturned face.

  “If there is no one but us here, who is going to cook and clean and…take care of us?”

  “That’s the best part, darling. We are.”

  Chapter 15

  “We are? You and me? All by ourselves?” Sophie was having a hard time grasping the concept. It didn’t help her concentration that Stephan was grinning like a schoolboy on the first day of summer vacation. She put her hands on her hips when he made a show of looking around the large room they were in.

  “I believe there are only the two of us in the building. So … yes.”

  She took a moment to mimic his gesture of looking around the room. It was unlike anything she’d ever seen. Stone and polished wood, impossibly high ceilings and what seemed like miles of gleaming glass. There were two big leather chairs and a long, wide leather sofa that looked more comfortable than her bed. And there, just against the far wall, an enormous fireplace waited in chilled silence.

  Then Stephan’s assertion came back to her and she turned to face him.

  “I’m sorry to be the wet blanket here, but you need to know. I cannot cook. Or do laundry. Now, Papa had us tidying our rooms at the farm when we would go there for summer vacation, but that was merely a matter of putting our dirty clothes in a hamper and straightening our beds. And the truth is that I only pulled my blankets up each morning, rather poorly as I recall, yet the bed seemed perfectly made each evening.”

  “Sophie, none of that matters.”

  “It doesn’t?” Oh, now there was a very mischievous look on his face. He took one step toward her, but she didn’t feel threatened. When he reached out to caress her cheek, she couldn’t help her response. Turning her face into his hand, her blood heated at the same instant his expression turned carnal.

  “No, it doesn’t. Because you can do something no one else has ever managed to do.”

  Sophie sensed Stephan’s emotions were about to overrun his libido. She couldn’t let that happen. So she did the only thing she could think of to distract him. How convenient that it’s also what I want most in the world to do.

  She closed the distance between them with a single step. Slowly, her gaze never leaving his, she wound her arms around his neck, brought her body flush with his. “Kiss me. Touch me. It feels like forever since you’ve had your hands on me.”

  “Sophie.”

  His kiss was swift and lusty and deep. She lost herself in the glorious flavor of him, in the wondrous sensation of heat and excitement that filled her as his hands caressed her bottom. When he lifted her, she simply wrapped her legs around him. Oh, how had she lived all her life before him without this fire, this passion? He had only to look at her and she quickened. He had only to touch her and she burned. Her tongue swept and stroked his, and she drank him in. Her hands craved the silkiness of his hair, her fingers combed and caressed the strands, and this, too, aroused her. Vaguely, she was aware that he carried her up a flight of stairs, but she didn’t care.

  When he laid her flat, when he pressed her into the mattress, she needed more, and she needed it now.

  “Please. Please,” she begged, totally incapable of putting into words what she craved. But he knew, of course he knew. His hands stripped her of her clothing, just as this burning need for him stripped her of all civilization. Uncaring, she grabbed his shirt and pulled. Buttons flew, and her hands found flesh.

  “Here, let me.”

  He raised himself away from her and she whimpered. Then she sighed as he tossed off his clothes, each economical motion revealing more scrumptious masculine flesh. She hadn’t really paid attention that first time, hadn’t fully allowed herself the pure visual pleasure of looking at his naked body.

  She looked now. His penis was hard, standing nearly straight up, and she wondered anew that something so large could fit inside her so well, and give her such joy.

  “My God, little one, you inflame me with only your eyes.”

  Her gaze was drawn to his face. His expression looked pained. The thought that Stephan could be hurting in any way created a pang in her chest. She didn’t want to think about that, so she reached for him.

  He caught her hand and brought it to his lips, kissed it. Passion and purpose in his eyes, he reached over to the bedside table, pulled open a drawer.

  Fascinated, she watched as he tore open the small foil package and rolled the thin latex into place. Then he was lowering himself over her, making a place for himself between her thighs.

  She couldn’t wait another moment. She wrapped her arms around him, reveling in the heat and the weight of him as his chest crushed her breasts, his taut stomach pressing against her softer belly like a missing puzzle piece. Mouth open, she met his kiss, sank into it. His tongue excited as it delved and danced with hers. His taste was like no other, feeding and teasing at the same time. Yes, she wanted this, his hard hot flesh on hers, his hands petting and caressing, his fingers pinching and rubbing and sliding inside of her.

  Her hips shot off the bed as his fingers explored her depths. Wave after sweeping, trembling wave of rapture cascaded through her until she didn’t know if she could take any more. Just as the shivery-pulsating pleasure began to ebb, Stephan shifted his hips and thrust into her.

  * * * *

  He had to close his eyes and use all of his will not to come there and then. It felt like years since he’d been right here, nestled between Sophie’s silky thighs, deep inside her body. She fit him as if she’d been made for him. He didn’t care if it was barbaric, the idea that only he had been inside her thrilled him.

  He felt the velvet clasp of her intimate flesh tighten around him in another rhythmic shiver, heard her cry of pleased surprise as she came again, arousing him even more. “Yes, come on me, little one,” he whispered hoarsely into her ear, unable to resist nibbling lightly on her lobe. “Just like that.”

  “Stephan!”

  He slid an arm under her and held her close while he began to thrust hard. He’d wanted to take his time, but had known it would be like this. Only the solid knowledge that they had an entire week alone together allowed him the freedom to let go, to take her the way he longed to take her, to claim her the way a man claims his woman.

  “Give me your mouth!” He heard the desperation in his own voice and didn’t care, plundering her lips when she instantly obeyed. He wanted to be joined to her in every way possible. Her absolute surrender, to the passion, to him, pushed him over the edge of reason. His orgasm exploded out of him, ripping every shred of ener
gy from his body, flooding into her and leaving him helpless to do anything but hang on to her and come.

  After what seemed like a lifetime he collapsed on her and concentrated on breathing. Her arms around him, her contented sigh, told him he hadn’t hurt her. But he was heavy, and didn’t want to smash her into the bed. He grunted and started to move. Sophie clutched his shoulders.

  “Don’t go.”

  “No, I won’t. But I’m too heavy. Come here.” He rolled onto his side and took her with him. He was still inside her but knew that wouldn’t last long. He should excuse himself and get cleaned up. He really didn’t want to move.

  “It’s better in a bed than on the grass.”

  Sophie’s purring observation made him laugh. Delighted, he pulled her even closer and kissed her forehead. “So it is. If we’re to do a comparative study, though, it seems to me there are many more places we should try.”

  “There are?”

  The two words reminded him of her innocence. Once again the reality of being her first lover filled him with primal male pride.

  “Oh, indeed there are. On the sofa, on the dining room table, in the shower…mmm, and the hot tub too. It’s a very good thing that we have an entire week for this personal journey of discovery.”

  “If we’re going to be making love all week, somebody had better feed us.”

  He moved so that he could look down at her. Brushing strands of the hair away from her face, he placed a gentle kiss on her lips. “You do not wish to just live on love for the next week?”

  And he caught that fleeting expression that told him he’d ventured too close to a boundary. He didn’t know everything about the sadness she carried, but he suspected its source. There was a remoteness to Sophie that had earned her the nickname of Ice Princess, but he knew now it wasn’t the reflection of an inner chill. It was, he decided, a protective wall.

  Stephan was very aware of the irony. Over the last few years he’d been cautious when selecting his lovers. He tried to make sure the ground rules were understood before the clothes came off. Mutual pleasure, yes. Love and commitment, no. Whenever a woman gave any sign that she felt their relationship was moving out of the physical and into the emotional, he ended the affair.

  The look he had just seen ghost across Sophie’s face, he was certain, exactly mimicked the one he wore at such times.

  He should have known that when he finally fell in love, it wouldn’t be easy.

  “How can sex provide nourishment?”

  Sophie’s question was a fair attempt at changing the tone of their conversation. He’d allow it for now. But before the week was out, he’d bring her around to a serious discussion about love and marriage.

  “Ah, little one, there is much I’m going to teach you about the many and varied ways to indulge in pleasure and nourishment. But for now, we’ll opt for food.”

  * * * *

  The only kitchens she had ever been in were at the palace and the farm.

  The kitchen in Stephan’s chalet was small, similar to the one at the farm yet not the same at all. It contained counters and cupboards, a double sink, a fridge and a stove. There was even a counter in the center of the room. She liked the colors. The cabinets were a soft maple, and the countertops reminded her of the grey marble in the formal salon at home. Most impressive, though, was the man, shirtless, who moved with purpose from cabinet to fridge to stove, seemingly totally at ease not only with his partial nudity but also with his surroundings.

  He wore no shirt because it was on her. Looking down, she thought that it almost made a mini-dress. Her feet were bare, and she didn’t think she’d been bare foot anywhere outside her own bedroom or the beach.

  Stephan took out a machine the like of which Sophie had never seen before. When he pulled a can out of the freezer, she understood at once that this was a coffee maker. Curious, she went over and watched as he opened the machine, put some paper in it, then put brown grains on the paper. He put water in the carafe then poured that into the machine. When he had placed the carafe on a round stand in the middle of the machine, he touched a button on the base. Almost instantly, the aroma of fresh coffee filled the air.

  “Amazing! How did you know how to do that?” He hadn’t performed the chore with great care, as if having to recall how to do it. Instead, his actions had seemed smooth and practiced.

  “I only made a pot of coffee, Sophie.”

  When she continued to just look at him, he chuckled.

  “I went to a university in the United States for two years. In my second year, I was determined that I was going to learn more than just what the professors had to teach. Rather than staying in standard student housing, I rented an apartment and took on a roommate. He taught me how to make coffee, prepare some simple meals, basically, how to take care of myself. I enjoyed it. I felt empowered to do these things. What I also found empowering was the relative privacy. For the first time in my life, I was alone.”

  “What about security?”

  “Oh, I had a couple of men assigned to me. But they kept their distance. Here, too. There is a security team billeted in the woods, and access to my chalet is restricted. But they have no eyes or ears in here. That’s liberating.”

  His explanation made Sophie feel a bit envious. “Except when I have been in my rooms at home, I’ve never been alone. I can recall times, when I was a child, when I thought that I had eluded everyone and simply been alone. But Nanny Celeste would always know where I was and what I was doing.” The words had come unexpectedly. She quickly looked up at Stephan. Instead of the bored or disinterested expression she’d been expecting, he seemed riveted.

  “I take it Nanny Celeste didn’t approve of your attempt to gain some personal space?”

  “No. A princess is a princess always, for every waking moment, and every sleeping moment too. And at every moment, a princess must behave with protocol and propriety.” Even to her own ears the words sounded like something she’d learned by rote. Well, she had. They were a condensed version of her old caretaker’s lectures.

  “Is that right?”

  There was that mischievous twinkle in Stephan’s eyes again. The sight of it chased away the chill that had descended as she’s recited that long ago mantra. Just like that he’d dispatched the power of the memory, leaving only the shell of it—the ridiculous, wretched shell of it—behind.

  “Yes, that is so. The gospel according to Nanny Celeste.”

  “Well, it’s a good thing that Nanny Celeste is nowhere in sight, little one. Because before this night is through, protocol and propriety will both have been tossed out the window.”

  Of all the plans and agendas Sophie had been privy to in her life, she thought that Stephan’s, for this evening, was the best she’d ever heard.

  Chapter 16

  He wanted to impress her.

  That was another new experience, one that felt better than he would have thought. There was a high efficiency freezer in the larder, stocked with easy to prepare foods, and a microwave on the counter. Instead, he took steaks out to defrost.

  “You’re going to cook for me?”

  Her question, tinged with awe, made him smile. “I am. We’ll have the steaks for dinner tonight. But in the mean time, I believe you said you were hungry.” The heated look that came into her eyes then almost had him saying ‘to hell with lunch’ and taking her back to bed.

  “I am. I was so nervous about the tournament that I couldn’t eat much breakfast.”

  “Then let’s make some sandwiches.”

  He took everything they would need out of the fridge, setting the items on the butcher block in the center of the kitchen. He got down two plates from the cupboard, and two butter knives from the drawer. He handed her one knife, one plate, and then the loaf of bread.

  “Now this, I can do.”

  Stephan watched how carefully she spread mustard on her bread before choosing a single slice of meat to go on it. Then she carefully put her creation together, and cut the s
andwich in half. She looked completely pleased with herself.

  “That’s it? Just one thin slice of meat?”

  “I think it’s enough” Sophie said defensively.

  Shaking his head, he poured them each a cup of coffee, then he began to construct one of what he thought of as his ‘vacation sandwiches’. He was very aware of Sophie’s wide-eyed stare as he kept adding layers to the small stack.

  “My roommate used to make enormous sandwiches that more often appeared a work of art than something one would eat. At home, during high tea, our chef takes great pride in presenting very thin and, I have to admit, very tasty snacks. Here, I indulge my inner child.”

  “You will never get your mouth around that thing.”

  “That’s the fun of it. And you’d be surprised what my mouth can do.” He sent her a lascivious grin. She blushed, delighting him. He knew she used her food as a defense when she picked up a half sandwich and began to eat.

  * * * *

  Sophie had never been in someone’s private home before. As Stephan took her from room to room after lunch, she realized that’s what the chalet was to him. His private home. She’d enjoyed his company over the last few days, and had thought she’d come to know him fairly well. She would have said that despite being a crown prince, he was an easy-going man. But she noticed the difference in him here. Here, where no eyes but hers watched, he was even more relaxed and playful.

  He showed her his office, which was down the hall from the main sitting room.

  “I have computer and phone, fax and photocopier. Everything I need to stay in touch, if I am needed. I know that at any given time, father could call, and my time alone here can be cut short. But I don’t dwell on that.” Then he shot her a smile, grabbed her hand, and placed it on the glass of the copier. He pressed a button and the machine came to life.

 

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