MAID FOR A PRINCE: (Book 1) (Point St. Claire, where true love finds a way)

by Robyn Grady

  Apprehension or anticipation?

  “Maybe the birds started singing here on this island first,” she said.

  His hand slid along the rail toward hers. “I wouldn’t be surprised.”

  Her gaze dropped to his mouth before she cast a look out over the surrounding trees again. “All the birds are asleep now though.”

  “Perhaps we should wake them.”

  “Wake them how?”

  His hand scooped around her waist. Bringing her close, he inhaled her lavender scent and murmured, “I’ll show you how.”

  Chapter 6

  When Darius’s lips touched hers and lingered, Helene’s eyes drifted shut. A heartbeat later, he drew her closer, and she dissolved like a tablespoon of sugar in hot water. Then one warm palm cupped her nape and gently angled her head.

  As a kiss created in heaven deepened, Helene leaned in more. When the big warm hand on the small of her back slid lower, her pulse began to pound in a way that left her reeling. Was this really happening?

  Out of breath, she broke away. But his mouth found hers again and this time he held her so close, every cell in her body seemed to catch fire. Her breasts suddenly felt so heavy. Their tips so sensitive and hot. Through to her core, she was tingling. Everything, everywhere, sizzled and ached for his touch.

  Darius’s mouth finally left hers, but his arms remained, iron bands holding her close.

  “Listen.” His smile grazed her lips. “The birds are singing now.”

  The next kiss was even deeper. A thousand times hotter. With his mouth covering hers, his tongue parted her lips and a kernel formed, glowing and throbbing deep inside of her.

  When he finally drew away this time, she slumped. The backs of his fingers traced her hot cheek, gently lifted her chin.

  “Are you all right?” he asked.

  She managed a nod.

  He studied her face for a long moment. Did she look as dizzy as she felt?

  “You should sit down,” he said. “Eat something.”

  “I’m not hungry,” she got out. Just behaving like a schoolgirl who’d never been kissed.

  His slow, knowing smile left her feeling even more light-headed. “Perhaps I should kiss you again,” he murmured. “That’s what you had planned when you put on that dress, isn’t it?”

  “I didn’t think I was the kind of girl a prince would want to kiss.”

  He traced soft kisses over her brow before he whispered against the shell of her ear, “You thought wrong.”

  This time she kissed him.

  As his mouth claimed hers again, she coiled an arm around his neck and gave herself over to sensations she’d never known before. Nerve-endings fired, the world dropped away, and then she knew. Knew for sure. This was the emotion she’d wondered about all this time. This was the thrill that left a woman feeling both deliciously lost and finally found.

  When his mouth left hers, she bit her lip to stop a sigh. She was trembling. On fire. But he didn’t sweep her up into his arms. He didn’t carry her to his bed. Instead, in the flickering light, his gaze seemed to have sharpened.

  He brushed hair away from her brow and then took one measured step back.

  “You need some time,” he said.

  Time for what?

  She reached for him again, but he caught her hand, brought her wrist to his lips, and nuzzled halfway up her arm before he took another step away.

  “I’ll eat in my room tonight. In the morning, we’ll talk.”

  Helene held onto the rail. She wanted him to kiss her again, to hold her until she couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe. She didn’t need more time. But…

  Maybe he did.

  She could admit that draping herself in silk had as much to do with getting a reaction as finding something different to wear. But Darius was already thinking ahead. Tomorrow he’d be focused on his future again, which was a royal light-year away from hers.

  “It’s okay,” she said. “You stay out here. I had something to eat before you came in.” She started off. “Think I’ll just go to bed. Lie down.”

  When he caught her arm again, that same delicious heat wove through her. “I didn’t mean to embarrass you,” he said.

  “I’m not embarrassed.” She put on a smile. “I’m tired. That’s all.”

  With his gaze burning a hole in her back, she held her head high and walked away.

  The next morning, Helene had finished the dishes when Darius appeared. The line between his brows said he wasn’t pleased. Was he disappointed she hadn’t joined him for breakfast?

  The previous night before she’d left him alone on the balcony, she’d said she wasn’t embarrassed. But later, alone in her room, she relived again and again those kisses, how she’d practically whimpered in his arms. Then she recalled his reasoning that she might need more time. All through the night her cheeks had burned. By the time she’d crawled out of bed, bleary-eyed, she wondered how she would ever face him again.

  It was harder than she’d even imagined.

  She sent over an airy smile before casually wiping her hands on a cloth. “Morning.”

  “I missed you at breakfast,” he said, buttoning up a fresh shirt.

  “Everything was laid out on the table like normal. I had to…wash my hair.”

  “I thought you washed your hair last night.”

  “I wanted to wash it again.

  With narrowed eyes, he folded his shirt cuffs back, revealing strong bronzed forearms. “I thought you might like to join me for a walk. It’s a nice day out.”

  She glanced out the window. “Yep. Beautiful.”

  “So?”

  “So what?”

  His jaw tightened, his chin went up. “So, get some shoes. I’ll meet you at the door.”

  When she was alone again, Helene slumped. If only her stomach would quit flip-flopping all over the place. Clearly he wanted to talk, and at some stage they had to get this “kissing in the moonlight” situation sorted.

  Awkward times a thousand, but sooner was probably better than later.

  In silence, they strolled down the winding path that led to the beach. But rather than turning right toward the cave, Darius veered left. They took a track that meandered through soaring columns of pine trees and overlooked the dazzling sun-kissed sea. Other than the wash of waves, everything was hushed.

  “It’s so peaceful here,” she said as they rounded a high shoulder.

  “Not too quiet?”

  “Why would you say that?”

  “Just remembering your lust for adventure.”

  She only plucked a wild blueberry from a bush and popped the berry in her mouth. The less said about any kind of lust, the better.

  “Do you like your life in North America?” he asked.

  “Sure. And I do miss home…my friends, of course, Miller Bakery’s whoopie pies, old Judd Everett’s stories.”

  “Who’s Judd Everett?”

  “A retired lobsterman and self-proclaimed local historian. Judd knows everything there is to know about the Point. He says he even knows what happened last Halloween up at the lighthouse, but he only hints at it.”

  “Halloween...” Darius reached over and took her hand. “I’m thinking this story involves ghosts.”

  “I like the idea of ghosts. Friendly ghosts, anyway. What about you?”

  “I just want to try a whoopie pie.”

  She laughed and he gave her hand a squeeze. She was glad he’d made the move. Although she wasn’t sure now where this was heading. How it would end.

  “I couldn’t wait to try a real French pastry,” she said. “Real Greek Easter cookies.”

  “Koulourakia. Delicious.”

  “I tried to cook some once. When mom tasted one, she was kind enough not to spit it straight out.”

  “She sounds like a good mama.”

  “Way too protective though. A real worry wart. I used to spend all my time trying to convince her I wasn’t hanging with the wrong crowd. That I didn’t do dop
e or steal cars. I swear, when I’m a mom, kill me if I turn paranoid about every single thing.”

  Kicking a pinecone, he chuckled. “I think I’d like your mom.”

  “But this…” Closing her eyes, Helene turned her face up toward the treetops and dappled sunshine then inhaled the crisp woodsy scent. “This is pure freedom. A slice of heaven on earth.” Particularly with Darius walking alongside of her and that wave of discomfort from last night all but gone.

  When the path forked, he led her down a trail that ran toward another gorgeous blue bay. The shore was laced with scallops of sea-foam. The hillside and beach were filled with a flower Helene hadn’t seen before in such a cloud. Tall stalks of sea squills were everywhere, some flopping under their own weight, every one covered in tiny white flowers.

  “They’d look amazing in a vase,” she said.

  “Won’t need too many. They’re huge this time of year.”

  He already had an armful when he snapped a final stem. Trying to fit it in with the rest, he fumbled and this last stalk fell toward the ground.

  He grabbed for it. So did she. At the same moment they both caught the stalk, his hand swept over and trapped hers.

  Their eyes locked. Helene’s heart began thumping while the air between them throbbed and drew them closer still. Then the tip of the sea squill tickled her chin and Darius let go of his grip.

  As his hand dropped away, Helene noticed something else in the sand near her feet. Kneeling down, she scooped it up.

  “A cockleshell.”

  Darius sat beside her and laid down the stalks. “They’re everywhere here.”

  So pretty. Helene turned the shell over. Her fingertip traced two lines that she imagined made a V.

  “I’ll keep this as a memento.” She added, “If that’s okay?”

  “You don’t need to ask for a shell, Helene.”

  “Are you sure? Because if you’re going to change your mind, I’d rather know now.”

  His grin was wry. “You’re not talking about a shell, are you? We’re talking about last night. About me walking away.” His jaw shifted. “We can’t go back to how things were before we kissed.”

  “Before you kissed me, you mean.”

  “That’s exactly what I mean.”

  He reached out, brought her close. The tip of his nose circled hers before he pressed a barely-there kiss on one side of her mouth. Then his lips traced all the way around her jaw. Her world was spinning by the time his mouth captured hers.

  The kiss was light, delicious and steeped in meaning. He was tasting her—enjoying her—as if she were a freshly plucked peach.

  Gradually, his mouth left hers. His voice was deep. Determined. “I’m sorry about last night.”

  “For starting something then chickening out?”

  His lips twitched with a wry grin. “Right.”

  “Are you going to do that again?”

  “Actually, I was going to suggest that we head back to the villa.”

  Helene’s stomach jumped all the way to her throat, but then she threw out a challenge. “I’ll race you.”

  “Race me?” He chuckled. “You’ll lose.”

  “You never know. I’m feeling pretty fired up.”

  His smile changed. “Then there’s something I need to do.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Get a head start.”

  Chapter 7

  Darius bolted off—long strides up the hillside, strong arms pumping. Helene grabbed that armful of flowers and her shell then hurried after him.

  He was right. She was no match for his speed. He got so far ahead she actually lost sight of him. Out of breath, with a trail of flowers scattered behind her, she jogged around a bend—and there he was, chest heaving, a big cheeky grin on his face.

  Then he set off again.

  By the time Helene stumbled in through the villa’s doorway, she’d lost all the flowers. Darius stood there panting, his eyes filled with intent. He closed the distance separating them, his mouth covered hers and their bodies—breathless and hungry—roped together.

  Sometime later, in her bedroom, naked and tangled up in the sheets, Darius pushed up on his elbow and searched Helene’s eyes. Smiling softly, she looked as sated as he felt.

  Not possible.

  She stole a loving kiss and lingered close to say, “I have a feeling the dishes won’t get done today.”

  His fingers curved around her cheek. “Who cares about dishes?”

  “I’m supposed to.”

  “Not anymore.”

  “We can’t spend all day in bed. I mean…can we?”

  Darius only kissed her again.

  Rolling onto his side, he kept her close while his hands wove across her arm and back. But she was responding the way she had earlier. She seemed…hesitant. Then Darius kicked himself. He was an idiot. He was pushing too hard, too fast and all at once.

  But then she literally stiffened.

  Drawing away, he searched her eyes. Had he hurt her? “Helene, what’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. Nothing at all. Except…” She winced. “You don’t feel even a bit bad about this?”

  Seriously? “How could this possibly feel bad?” When her gaze dropped away, he made himself clear. “Helene, I don’t regret this.”

  She looked up again and then over his shoulder. To the safe?

  He wanted to laugh. “Don’t tell me you feel like we have company?” The figurine?

  “It’s dumb, I know. But you spend so much time in here with her alone. Just then, when I thought about it…” She gave an awkward shrug. “I felt like I was intruding somehow.”

  When he chuckled, her smile crimped to one side, but her gaze shifted again to that safe. He looked over, too.

  “Would it help if I brought her out?” he asked. “You could see that she hasn’t come to life. That she isn’t jealous.”

  “That’s got to be against tradition.”

  “We’re not exactly going by the book here.”

  “And that doesn’t make you nervous?”

  He gently twined strands of flaxen hair around a finger. “Having you here with me like this doesn’t make me feel nervous at all. It feels good.”

  It felt…right.

  Before he could think about that too much, he eased away. He’d show her the figurine one more time. But he’d clean up first.

  After Darius had disappeared into the attached bathroom, Helene studied the safe again. She did feel a little strange knowing the figurine was waiting quietly behind that thick steel door. Not because she felt any ancient mystical powers wafting around the room—what had happened between herself and Darius had happened naturally. No otherworldly powers involved. Although…

  She could admit that every moment she’d spent in his arms had seemed totally magical. They’d made love—unbelievable superlative love—and it wasn’t over yet.

  With a towel wrapped around his hips, Darius walked back into the room. His smile was gone. His complexion looked almost chalky. He sat on the edge of the mattress and took her hand in his while she pulled herself up.

  “Something’s wrong,” she said. Very, very wrong.

  “Probably nothing.” He gave a thin smile. “We’d have to be pretty unlucky.” His gaze lowered before his shoulders straightened and jaw tipped up. “The condom leaked. Must have had a split…a hole.”

  Helene’s mouth dropped open and her heart hit the floor.

  Earlier, when they’d reached his bedroom and there was no going back, she was relieved to know he had protection on hand because she didn’t. She wasn’t using any kind of contraception. She didn’t have a boyfriend back home. She hadn’t intended on falling into bed with anyone while she was away.

  What good were intentions now?

  She must have gone pale, looked ill, because he strode over and sat on the bed beside her. “It’s okay. I don’t want you to worry.”

  “Uh, too late.”

  “I had to say something.”


  She swallowed deeply, got her whirling thoughts together and nodded. “Of course you did.”

  He pressed a kiss to her furrowed brow. “Some couples try for years to…well, to…”

  “Get pregnant?”

  Certainly, in some cases, creating a baby wasn’t an easy matter. Plenty of couples used IVF. Others didn’t become parents no matter how long they tried.

  But every high school student knew―sex ed was clear. It only took one time. And this particular time, she and Darius had a genuine fertility figurine sitting in the corner of the room.

  Helene tugged the sheet out from the foot of the bed and wrapped it around her. She needed space. She thought Darius might feel the same way.

  “I might go pick some fruit for lunch,” she said.

  He looked as preoccupied as she felt. It took a moment for him to smile and nod. “I’ll be out soon.”

  She wandered through to the main room and scooped up the clothes she and Darius had tossed aside on their impatient way to his bedroom. In her quarters, she crossed to an arched window that overlooked the sea and, hugging the clothes, tried to think rationally.

  She and Darius Vasily had made love. Protection had malfunctioned. So…what if the unthinkable happened? What if she were pregnant? Were cells already splitting and multiplying inside of her?

  If she had conceived, obviously she would let nature take its course. She was all for women’s rights and understood personal choice, special circumstances. But for her, that wasn’t an option. Just like she could never think about giving a baby up for adoption.

  Turning around, feeling exhausted, she heard something drop on the floor. Something small and hard. She looked down and saw the cockleshell she’d stuffed in her short’s back pocket skidding under an ornately carved wardrobe. She crossed over, knelt down, and swept an arm underneath to sweep it back out.

  No luck.

  Setting her cheek on the floor, she peered between the wardrobe’s clawed feet. The shell sat well back against the wall. Lying flat, she stuck her arm under again and reached as far as she could. Her fingers grazed the shell’s cool smooth surface but the wardrobe was so deep, she couldn’t grab it. She tried to reach further and then, gritting her teeth, snatched. Her knuckles hit the wardrobe’s timber base. It fell on top of her arm—or at least part of it did.