by A. C. Arthur
Pleasure came in sharp pricks against his skin, as if a million darts were being thrown at him all at once. He couldn’t think, couldn’t speak, he could only feel. She’d wrapped her legs completely around his waist, locking her ankles at his back. He sat up straighter to hold her and to keep them both leveraged as he pounded into her. When her fingers dug into his shoulder and his name became a litany of murmurs and sighs on her lips, Kris thought he would lose it immediately.
She was tight around him, her thighs trembling as she made the climb to her release. He leaned in, licking over the part of the material that covered her breasts. Then he nipped there, wanting desperately to feel her turgid nipple in his mouth once more. He didn’t want to take his hands off her, loved the feeling of her bare cheeks in his palms as he moved quickly in and out of her. So he continued to suckle her breasts through the dress, until she made a sound that matched the jerking and stilling of her hips.
With her release came a surge of heat in Kris’s body that he knew he’d never be able to explain. He felt as if that heat boiled instantly until there was a blast and before he knew what to say or how to react, he was groaning with his release. By now he was squeezing her so tightly, he was certain it must be painful.
He lowered his forehead until it rested on her chest. She was panting. He was panting. He loosened his grip only slightly on her. She flattened her palms on the back of his head, rubbing slowly as he leaned on her trying to catch his breath.
“Thank you.”
He heard the words but wasn’t totally sure she should be saying them.
“For what?” he asked without daring to look up at her.
If she was thanking him for sex, Kris wasn’t going to be happy. As his mind began to clear of the foggy remnants of release, he wasn’t actually feeling jubilant at the moment.
“For the blouses,” she said. “I meant to thank you at dinner, but you left. And then you were here and before I could say it...well, just thank you.”
Kris closed his eyes to her words, but still did not look up at her. She was thanking him for sending her a dozen shirts when he was pretty sure he was on his way to ruining her life.
How was he supposed to respond to that?
Chapter 11
“You’re leaving me again,” he said.
Landry had just finished smoothing down loose strands of her hair. Moments ago she’d slipped off his lap and adjusted her dress. As for the remnants of her underwear, she’d stuffed them into the front pocket of her dress and was prepared to make the uncomfortable trek to her bedroom commando-style.
She hadn’t been facing him but when he spoke, she turned slowly.
“It’s become a habit,” she replied. “Leaving without being seen so I don’t cause any trouble.” The words were bitter in her mouth.
He’d adjusted his clothes as well, and he’d picked up his wallet and the condom paper from the bench. She presumed he’d also disposed of the used condom, but didn’t want to think about where or how. Actually, Landry decided, she really just wanted to go back to her room.
“You believe that being with me might cause trouble?”
She almost laughed at the way he managed to sound oblivious to what was going on. “Maybe not trouble, but certainly confusion. At least for me.”
“Then why do you do it?”
It took a moment for her to see that he was serious. “You mean, why do we do it? I don’t know,” she told him. “Gluttons for punishment, I suppose.”
“Hmm, punishment,” Kristian continued. “I hadn’t actually thought of it that way.”
She took a tentative step toward him and then stopped. Her thoughts were much clearer when she wasn’t so close to him. Now was as good a time as any to get this conversation over with. So what they’d just had pretty terrific sex; it was always like that with them.
“How are you thinking of this, Kristian? What do you think we’re doing?”
She really wanted him to answer this time because she was so not sure what was going on between them. It had happened so quickly, the change from him and her, to them, together, that she hadn’t been able to make any sense of it.
“We’re adults,” he told her.
“You’re right, we are.”
“And...dammit!” he yelled, turning away from her.
Stunned for a few seconds at the outburst, Landry could only stare at him, until finally she decided to close the space between them.
“I didn’t plan this. I only came here to do a job,” she said standing behind him. “And I don’t really know how or why it started.”
“But it can’t continue,” he said, whirling around to face her again.
They were standing close this time, so close she could see the twitch of a muscle in his jaw.
“Is that what you’re about to say? Or no, perhaps it was more along the lines of we should just go with this. Press on and see where it takes us,” he was saying.
Landry didn’t like his tone or his words. She squared her shoulders and cleared her throat. “No. What I’m saying is that I don’t believe in games. We’re attracted to each other, okay, we cannot deny that. I’m usually good at handling any type of relationship and rolling with the punches. But I’ve never been good at games. As for what would happen beyond the nights we keep spending together, I hadn’t thought about it much, not until now.”
“I have,” he replied tersely. “I’ve thought about you and us and the inevitability of it all. We’re too different, yet the attraction is undeniable.”
Landry took a step back at that point, nodding her head as she considered her words.
“You’re right again, Kristian. You’re a prince and I’m just an American entrepreneur. Those differences are huge and yes, they too are undeniable.”
He opened his mouth to say something and then shook his head. “That’s not how I meant it,” he told her.
“It is and that’s fine because like I said, it’s true.”
He tried again. “We have different lives. We’re meant to do different things.”
“In other words, I’m a commoner and you’re royalty.”
“I didn’t say that,” he quickly replied.
Landry waited a beat and then gave a wry smile. “You didn’t deny it either.”
He sighed heavily. “Look, you just don’t understand the situation I’m in. You have no idea the duties resting on my shoulders, the responsibility that I have to this country and to my family. I can’t let her down—I just can’t.”
“You can’t let who down?”
That muscle ticked in his jaw again and silence filled the air.
“Nothing,” he finally replied. “You’re right. It won’t look good for either of us to be seen together like this. You leave first and go back to your room. I’ll walk out in a few minutes.”
“So that’s that—we’ll have these little hookups and then we scuttle off in our different directions in secret.”
When he looked like he would respond, Landry raised a hand to stop him.
“No need for any more explanations. You’ve tried that already. We’re too different and that’s fine. I’m not some starry-eyed girl with dreams of marrying a prince and living in a palace. I’ve never wanted a serious relationship and least of all one where I would have to compromise my lifestyle for that of a title. I’ll just head back to my room now, Your Highness. But please, do me a favor, no more text messages, no more gifts and no more nights like this.”
Kristian didn’t say another word, nor did he try to stop her. The latter, Landry discovered as she walked back to her room, had hurt the most.
* * *
“Good evening,” Malayka spoke from behind Landry.
Landry turned so fast after entering her bedroom, and bit back a scream. With her back flat
tened against the door to her rooms, she stared at Malayka who was sitting with her legs crossed in an oatmeal-color tufted armchair.
“Ah, good evening. Did we have a meeting this late?” Landry asked when she finally got herself together enough to move away from the door and walk farther into the room.
“I’ll ask the questions, if you don’t mind. Where were you last night? I called you and I came to your room. You’re supposed to be at my beck and call, and you weren’t here.”
Landry moved slowly, still uncomfortable from her lack of underwear and not in the mood for conversation with her client. She took a seat in the chair that was positioned directly across from Malayka.
“I don’t think our contract says anything about beck and call,” Landry stated in a voice as calm as she could muster after walking quickly down a long hallway only to be frightened by an uninvited guest in her room. “And before you go on, yes, I know that you are about to become the princess of this beautiful island. My job is to dress you for all of your functions leading up to that time. We both have a calendar with those important dates listed. I schedule meetings and fittings with you and I’m present for every one of them. I am doing my job.”
Malayka opened her mouth to reply, but Landry shook her head and held up a finger to stop her.
“Just one more thing,” she told the soon-to-be princess. “I do not appreciate you letting yourself into my room and questioning me like I’m a child. Now, is there something else?”
Again, Astelle Norris’s voice echoed in Landry’s head. She’d said too much, and she hadn’t monitored her tone. She’d been sassy, which was one of Astelle’s favorite words to describe Landry. Landry didn’t care. Malayka was the type of person who needed to be nipped in the bud sooner, rather than later. If Landry answered the woman’s questions tonight without telling her that she was stepping over their professional line, then Malayka would feel as if she could treat Landry any way she wanted to. True, Malayka or rather—as evidenced from her latest check—Prince Rafferty was paying Landry’s invoices, so she owed them a measure of respect. But no amount of zeroes on a check would ever mean that Landry was going to tolerate disrespect from anyone.
Malayka didn’t move a muscle. Her hair was pulled back from her face with a jeweled band, the sage-colored dress she’d worn at dinner falling to her ankles, gold strappy sandals at her feet. It was a lovely outfit, which Malayka had managed to select for herself.
“This is my house,” Malayka began, keeping her saccharine-filled smile in place. “I have a right to know all the comings and goings around here. Besides, I’m concerned for you.”
Landry wanted to laugh. From the way that Malayka was looking at her to the blatant lie she’d just told, the scenario was more than a little funny. Instead, she decided she could play this game too, for just a moment.
“Really? Why are you concerned about me?” she asked.
“I’ve noticed how you’ve been looking at Kristian.”
A jolt of surprise speared through her. Still, Landry kept her face and her response as indecipherable as possible.
“How exactly have I been looking at him?” Landry asked.
Malayka uncrossed her legs then and leaned forward keeping her gaze locked on Landry’s.
“You want him,” Malayka said candidly. “And before you deny it, let me tell you that it’s no secret around the palace that you’ve been attending every dinner in the main dining room, whereas no other staff has ever been invited. Samantha did her normal tour of the island with you. Roland paid a bit of attention to you. So you may be thinking that you have a chance. But let me tell you right here and now, you don’t.”
It was hard to digest Malayka’s words as her body still tingled in every spot that Kristian had just touched. He’d been rougher tonight than last night and the nights before that, but Landry had loved it just the same. Yet, this woman was telling her she couldn’t have a man that Landry had already had, on more than one occasion to be exact.
“He’s taken,” Malayka continued before Landry could figure out what to say and how best to say it. “Her name is Valora Harrington and she’s been betrothed to Kristian since they were both children. They’re both natives to this island. The citizens know and love them and expect them to be married, as their fathers agreed upon long ago. So, you see, there’s no room for an American entrepreneur in this picture.”
Landry did not know what to say. She did not know how to feel. What she did know, however, was that there was no way she was giving Malayka the satisfaction of seeing her stumble.
“I hope Prince Rafferty is doing well this evening. I’m sure these past few weeks have been stressful to him.” While Malayka looked surprised that Landry had completely changed the subject, Landry continued. “I’m expecting the last few dresses for you to arrive tomorrow. I’ve already planned a fitting for tomorrow afternoon. If you’d rather reschedule for another time in the next couple of days, I completely understand. You probably want to spend as much time with your fiancé as possible.”
“Fine,” Malayka said as she stood.
Landry stood as well, keeping the small smile she’d managed to muster.
“We’ll keep our appointment,” she told Landry. “And you just remember to keep your distance.”
“Los Angeles is a good distance away, Malayka. As soon as our contract is up that’s where I’ll be. So you can save your warnings for the next woman who crosses your path,” Landry told her.
“Right,” Malayka said with a nod. “Am I trying on the Peta Romanti dress tomorrow? She did say she was sending an original for the wedding festivities, right?”
Landry gave a quick nod as she followed Malayka to the door. “Yes, she did. It should be in tomorrow’s shipment.”
“I was under the impression that you had a personal connection to her,” Malayka said when she opened the door.
Or else she might not have been hired? That’s what Landry figured Malayka was attempting to say. Again, she wanted to laugh. The only reason Peta had agreed to send a dress for Malayka was because of Landry and also because Malayka was engaged to a prince. Otherwise, that picture that Peta had taken with Malayka over a year ago would have been the extent of the designer’s contact with the soon-to-be princess.
“I’ve known Peta for a few years now and she never lets me down,” Landry replied. “It’s important to keep good professional relationships in this business.”
“Exactly,” Malayka said as she turned to give Landry one more sweet smile. “See you tomorrow, Landry.”
“See you tomorrow, Malayka.”
Their exchange had been weird and mostly uncalled for, except that it had added one more strike to the column of Landry’s mistakes.
Chapter 12
The room was empty.
Malayka was late for their appointment. Landry found that to be almost laughable especially considering the condescending tone Malayka had last night in her room.
“He knows to follow my instructions. He’ll do what he’s paid to do or I’ll find someone else to do it,” was what Landry heard the moment she’d pushed the rack of dresses into Malayka’s new dressing room. Landry didn’t understand why a second dressing room had been necessary, but she’d known better than to open that door of discussion. All she wanted to focus on today was her job.
Her deliveries had arrived on schedule. After checking each package, she’d placed each dress on the rack and made her way to the far end of the hall past Malayka’s rooms.
The voice belonged to a male and wasn’t one that Landry was familiar with. That meant nothing considering there were at least fifty staff members moving throughout the palace at one time or another. Falling back on her no eavesdropping rule, Landry continued to move around the space getting things together for Malayka’s impending arrival.
The gown from De
tali was zipped in a black garment bag. Landry went into the closet where all the new shoes that had been shipped over from the United States were being stored. She walked up and down the narrow path between the shelves looking for just the right shoes to go with the dress.
“You’re not the boss! I get my orders directly from him and then they filter down to you. Don’t make me sorry I picked you.”
It was that guy’s voice again.
She figured he was in the room right next to this one but for whatever reason Landry could hear him entirely too clearly. When she came out of the shoe closet and felt a cool breeze she realized why. The doors to the balcony in this room had been left open. Gauzy white curtains were lifted off the floor as another breeze sifted through. Malayka didn’t like feeling too stuffy and she swore this room did not receive the same force of air-conditioning that her bedroom did.
The fact that this was a five-hundred-year-old palace probably had something to do with that. While Landry had seen the rectangular-shaped air-conditioning units positioned along the top line of the walls in most of the rooms in the palace, she knew there were some rooms that did not have any air at all. It hadn’t surprised or annoyed her, maybe because she had read all about the history of this palace and the island in the time that she’d been there. She was certain Malayka hadn’t done that.
As excited as Landry had been this time yesterday morning about today’s fitting, at the moment, she simply wanted to get it over with. The little bombshell—that was actually more like a gigantic monkey wrench—Malayka had dropped on her last night was still rolling around in her mind.
Kristian was engaged to be married.
With a sigh, and because she could still hear that voice that was doing nothing to drown out her thoughts, Landry approached the balcony doors. More of the neighboring conversation played, just in case she did want to listen attentively.
She did not, still she stepped out on the balcony and saw a man with his back turned to her on the connecting balcony. He wore a white shirt and white slacks and a white baseball cap. Landry still wasn’t sure who he was or who he was talking to as he looked toward the doors and said, “I’ll be done with this call in a second.”