Seduced by the Prince

by Cristina Grenier

  Realizing he was staring, Max looked away for a moment before speaking. “If you’d like, I can bring some extra pillows so that you can lie down there and enjoy the view,” he offered.

  She stopped him as he moved away to get Peter. “No, that’s quite alright. If I decide to lie down, I’ll just use these cushions.” She hesitated a moment, looking up at him uncertainly. “That is, if you don’t mind?”

  “Not at all,” he replied, resuming his seat. “Please do make yourself comfortable.” He noticed that she hadn’t touched the food. “Are you not hungry?” he asked.

  “I am a little,” she said, “but I’m alright for now. I’ll eat in a bit.”

  “Shall I have Peter keep it warm for you till you’re ready, then?”

  She looked down at her hands, and he could see a faint hint of color rise in her cheeks. “No, please. I don’t want to be a bother.”

  “It’s all right, Tina,” Max assured her, liking her reticence. “It’s no trouble at all.” He got up and took her tray, minus the teapot and honey jar, back into the kitchen.

  “I think we’ll need to keep this warm until she’s ready, Peter. She won’t admit it, but she’s really not doing too well.”

  “Very good, my lord.”

  Remembering he was supposed to call his father, Max made the connection, glad that his satellite phone could cut through most barriers. The call was picked up almost immediately, and within minutes he was talking to his sire.

  “How are you feeling today, Papa?” Max asked. He had not seen his father in two days, and would be away another five before he would return to help in the planning of his coronation.

  “I am as well as can be expected for a man of my years and physical condition, my son. How did you leave my beloved?”

  “She was laid to rest with weeping and great sadness, Papa, and with great love.”

  The silence between father and son was profound, but it lasted only a moment before the older Prince spoke again.

  “It is my sincerest desire that you find someone to be your life’s partner who is as good as your mother was. Your work as the Sovereign Prince will be much easier with someone by your side. Have you been thinking about what I asked?”

  Max sighed. His father wanted him to make a politically strategic marriage, though the older man was not making it a requirement. Max knew his father worried that with the opposition growing more powerful his son would have a much more difficult road ahead if he were to maintain the leading role of the monarch in their country. He had no intention of letting the powers of the Kastelic family be eroded or dispersed, and he refused to let the monarchy die out or be swept away by fear mongers and conspiracy theorists among the citizens who came with their own political agendas.

  “I have thought about it, Papa,” he said, “and I have not as yet discarded it. But I wish to wait a while, to see if perhaps I can’t find a woman to love, as you loved Mama until her death. I’m sure you understand.”

  The old Prince sighed heavily. “I do, my son, I do. Just don’t wait too long. The burdens of leadership grow daily heavier, as I know you now know. A helpmate is invaluable. Someone who will love you behind closed doors, without the veil of the sovereign, someone to restore your energy, your faith, your will to succeed.”

  Max knew his father spoke wisely, so he agreed. There was nothing else he could do.

  “One more thing, my son. I know that you have not made a decision regarding your Princess, but you will need to make one regarding your partner for the coronation ball. That is not negotiable.”

  “Yes, Papa, I know. I will choose someone, soon, I promise. And when I do, you will be the second to know, after the lady herself.”

  The old Prince sighed. “Well, I have said my piece for the day. Please give my greetings and warm regards to my beloved’s family. Tell them I will call them before you return home.”

  “I will do so, Papa.”

  Max rang off, his mind a jumble of thoughts after that brief conversation with his sire. He had no idea whom he would wish to marry, and the young woman his father had suggested, while she was pretty enough and well-educated was still, aside from being too young for him, too innocent and immature for his liking. At least his father had not tried to set him up with his Russian fourth cousin Svetlana, a girl with dreams and ambitions of enlarging her family’s lost royal status. He wanted to choose someone real, someone who would see him as a man first, and not as a prince.

  Back in the living room, Max found Tina reclining, a couple of plush cushions stuffed behind her, the blanket draped over her. Her eyes were closed, and he could see that both her hands, the one resting lightly atop the blanket and the one she was using to massage her left temple were trembling slightly. He grew concerned, wondering why she refused to admit to feeling so unwell that she couldn’t even manage to sit up for more than a few minutes. He studied her for a moment, realizing that she had not heard him return. He knew instinctively that she would not normally have let her guard down as much as she had already if she were well.

  “Tina,” he said, crouching next to her, “why don’t you let me help you back to bed, hmm? It’s clear you’re not feeling well, and the bed will be far more comfortable than this sofa.”

  She opened her eyes to look at him doubtfully. “I just…”

  She closed them again, and Max felt something untwist inside him. The grief he was feeling at his mother’s passing and his thoughts about his conversation with his father were now mixing with compassion and something else he couldn’t put a finger on. He ignored them all, and took her hand.

  “Come. Let me help you back to bed. Peter will find some headache medication, and we’ll let you rest until you feel better.” When she opened her mouth to protest, he silenced her. “No arguments. You have a headache, and you’re very warm to the touch. You should rest.”

  He helped her up, wrapping the blanket around her securely and leading her back to the guest room. While she settled herself beneath the covers, he went in search of Peter who handed him pills and a full glass of water.

  “I’ll get some broth started, my lord.”

  “That would be wonderful, thank you, Peter.”

  Back in the room, he helped her to sit up and swallow the pills. Her skin felt alarmingly hot to him, but he didn’t want to upset her, so he said nothing. Instead, he went in search of a small bowl, filled it with lukewarm water, added some rubbing alcohol, just like his mother would have done, and fetched a washcloth. Then he went back to her and sat on the edge of her bed. He dipped the cloth in the water and squeezed the excess liquid out. She opened her eyes and looked at him.

  “What are you doing?’ she asked, confusion and fear mixed in her tone.

  “I’m just going to cool you down a little. You’re very hot.”

  She mumbled something and he strained to hear her. It sounded rather like she had said she wasn’t hot or she would have…something, he couldn't make out what. He wanted to question her, to ask what she meant, but he wasn’t sure that he had even heard her correctly to begin with, and she was obviously teetering on the brink of delirium. Now was not the time to engage her in conversation. She looked up at him with fever-glazed eyes and said more clearly,

  “You’re hot, though. I’ll bet you’ve got women hanging off your arm like flies around food.” She looked around as though she expected to see the women she had mentioned lurking in the background.

  Max hid his smile. Yes, she was definitely babbling, and he marveled that she had managed to do as much as she had, including walking downstairs, without collapsing and hurting herself. She was clearly a very strong-willed and minded woman, and admiration for her stirred in him. Perhaps when she was fully herself again, he would try to discover what it was she found especially ‘hot’ about him. In the meantime, he bathed her forehead, and when she tossed her head aside, he held her steady and pulled the straps of her nightgown down so he could bathe the top of her chest as well. He tried valiantly not to inspe
ct the luscious orbs that just missed being exposed by his ministrations.

  By the time Peter arrived with the soup, Tina was sleeping fitfully, but her fever had not diminished. Max grew alarmed as he sat in the armchair watching her. She tossed and turned, throwing off the bedsheets and then shivering. He went to search the medicine cabinet in the guest bathroom, and found nothing much to help, so he went to find Peter again.

  “Is there anything we can use to help bring her fever down?” he asked.

  “There is a supply of remedies in the cabinet here, my lord.”

  Peter led him to a cabinet over the desk in the kitchen. Max asked Peter to reheat the broth, while he read the labels until he found something he thought would at least make the fever manageable, because it said it treated the symptoms of a cold and the flu.

  “Thanks, Peter,” he said when his butler handed him the tray, and took everything back with him to the room.

  Tina was precariously close to the edge of the bed, and he rushed over to settle her back in the center. Then he set the tray on the side table closest to where she lay and sat next to her to rouse her.

  “Wake up for me, Tina,” he said. “You must take something for your fever.”

  She struggled to open her eyes, and protested when he put the little plastic cup with the medicine in it up to her lips.

  “Come on, swallow this for me.”

  She took a sip and made a face, pushing it away from her. “Nasty,” she mumbled.

  Max smiled. She was like a child, like one of his little nieces. “If you drink it all, I’ll let you have something nice to wash the taste away, okay? Come on, drink it all down like a good girl.”

  She turned her eyes up to him, watching him in a kind of puzzled way and asked with an odd clarity, “Who says I’m a good girl?”

  “I do,” Max replied, and urged her once again to take the liquid.

  She swallowed and gagged, and he put the plastic cup down and picked up the spoon. He dipped it into the broth and blew on it before putting it to her lips.

  “Have a taste,” he invited her. “Just one. See if you like it.” She sipped from the spoon. “Is it okay?” When she nodded, he continued, “Would you like another sip?” She nodded again, and he fed her more of the broth.

  When it was clear that her energy was waning, he helped her settle back against the pillows once more and whispered, “Sleep now, my lady.”

  She had managed to drink half the broth. He hoped the meds and the soup would help to break her fever, because he wanted to get to know this woman who had come into his life unexpectedly. Something told him she would be a treat in every way. He admired her strength, her toughness, and the hint of passion that she exuded, even when she was not completely compos mentis. And since he would not deny his attraction to her bronzed beauty, it would be easy for her to help him forget his grief for a while.

  The next few hours passed slowly. The storm had eased, but snow was still swirling about in lazy puffs outside when evening rolled around. Max had managed to sit in via satellite on the security council’s meeting to discuss arrangements for his coronation, including what would be done for visiting dignitaries. He had been updated as to the list of leaders who had already responded one way or the other, and was pleased to see that almost all had accepted his invitation. Unlike his father before him, he did not feel obliged to invite everyone who was anyone to the event, but only those whom he knew supported his country, his family, and the monarchy.

  After the meeting ended, he spent an hour talking with his cousins, ensuring that they were all safe, and that his elderly aunt was doing better. She had been in great pain and had had to watch the burial of her younger sister from the limousine the day before. He promised to stop by her home before he went back to Lauenstein. And then he went back to his guest.

  He had not been able to escape thoughts of Tina all day, through his conversation with his father, to his meeting about the security for his coronation and his conversations with his family. She had remained on the periphery of his mind. He was worried about her, and now that his duties for the day had been discharged, he was glad to be free to go in search of her. He hoped she was getting better, because he wanted to talk to her, to see her smile again, to find out what made her tick.

  Chapter 2: Meet Max

  Tina was cold. She stirred, feeling the cool sheets around her shivering body and the weight of the blankets above her. She opened her eyes, and realized it was dim in the room, though she could see light in the chink between the drawn blinds. She tried to sit up, but felt incredibly weak. Still, her bladder was full, and she wasn’t prepared to wet her pants because she was too feeble to get off the bed. She didn’t know where she was, but she was pretty sure it wasn’t her own bed in the city.

  Moving gingerly, she pushed the covers aside and slid her legs over to the side of the bed. A sound right next to her made her look up in fearful surprise. Someone loomed in the dimness, and a strangely familiar voice said, “Here, let me help you,” while strong arms wrapped themselves around her shoulders and helped her to sit up.

  “What do you need, Tina?” the voice asked.

  Shivering, her teeth knocking together, she whispered, “A robe, and to use the bathroom, please.”

  Her voice was a hoarse whisper of sound, but the man seemed to understand what she needed. He helped her sit on the edge of the bed, wrapped her in the thickest, warmest robe she had ever worn, and helped her to stand. She wanted to protest, to say that she could make it on her own, but she knew she would be lying if she did, so she held her peace and let him lead her to the ensuite bathroom. There was an awkward moment when she could almost hear him asking himself if he should offer to help her, but thankfully he refrained. She did her business slowly, hoping he wasn’t standing just outside the door, because the torrent of liquid she had been storing in her bladder hit the water in the bowl with great force, and lasted for much longer than she had thought possible for a human being.

  After she washed her hands and splashed water on her face, she wrapped the warm garment, which she discovered was not hers, around her body and opened the door. Her guardian angel was standing a sufficient distance away that he might not have heard her, and she breathed a sigh of relief. He was at her side in an instant, though, helping her back to bed. She wished she had the strength to sit up, to make nice, to do more than accept his help as he settled her back against the pillows, which he had plumped up.

  “I’ve brought you an electric blanket,” he said, “because I thought you would sleep more comfortably with it.”

  He showed her the buttons to adjust the temperature, but she barely paid attention to that, because she was so entranced by his voice, and by the sharp cut of his beard-covered jaw, and by his auburn hair, cropped low at the sides and back, fuller on top. She had a good view of the depth of color as he had opened the blinds and the sun picked up its deep red and dark brown hues and its golden highlights.

  “Are you alright?” he asked. When she looked at him in a puzzled way, he explained, “You seem somewhat distracted.”

  Tina lowered her eyes, struggling to keep her embarrassment from showing. “Yes, I’m okay, thank you.” Her stomach rumbled, and the color rose as he chuckled.

  “I’m glad to hear that,” he said, and she wasn’t sure he was answering her words or teasing her about her belly grumbling. And she just wanted to lie back against the pillows and go back to sleep. “Let me bring you the rest of the broth, and maybe a few crackers with it?”

  He looked at her expectantly, waiting for her to make a decision. Did she want soup? When had she had soup? Who had fed her? She was too tired to care, so she just nodded, and closed her eyes. The next time she opened them, the room was fully dark, and she could see stars through the window. The blanket had kept her nicely warm, but she needed the bathroom again. This time, she remembered to look to see if her rescuer was there. A hulking figure sat in the shadow just beyond the reach of the lamp light that illumin
ated the bed. She cleared her throat to get his attention.

  “Ah, you’re awake again,” he said, relief clear in his voice. “Shall I help you up?”

  “Yes, please.”

  He led her without a word to the bathroom, and helped her back into bed when she was done. Then he said, “Can you stay awake long enough to have something to eat now? You’ve been asleep almost all day, and you’ll need sustenance to beat this bug.”

  Tina didn’t feel that heavy weariness from earlier, so she nodded her thanks and watched him leave the room. Her limbs still felt like wet noodles, and as she regained her strength, she wondered if she was having a touch of the flu. And if she were, wasn’t she likely to pass it on to her benefactor? She really didn’t want to be a bother. She would suggest getting out of his hair as soon as the highway was clear. But her arms and legs said she wouldn’t be driving anywhere for at least another day or two.