Seduced by the Prince

by Cristina Grenier

  “Where are they staying?” he asked. “I know you’re pretty tight for space.”

  “Well, Debbie’s bringing a friend,” Sara began, and Cal’s hackles rose.

  “What friend?” he demanded.

  “What does it matter? She’ll be staying in a hotel with…” Her voice trailed off, and she continued after a moment. “Ruthie can stay with me. You get Mom and Dad.” She ended in a rush, and Cal grimaced. He knew what this was about.

  “Why am I not surprised?” he asked grimly. “I won’t let you coddle me, so you’re siccing Mom on me!”

  “You’re a grown man. Heck, you’re a big deal in the Army. Big tough guy like you should be able to handle a woman who is a mere five foot two inches, a-hundred-and-ten pounds soaking wet, without a problem.”

  He listened to his sister snicker. She knew as well as he did, that no one, not even his six-foot, hundred-and-eighty-pound dad could ‘handle’ his mother. She was a force of nature, and her word was law. But they all loved her, and went out of their way to keep her happy. She loved visiting Cal. His house was her delight. And now that Vivica was his neighbor...Cal cringed at the thought of his mother finding out. He listened as his sister rang off, and wondered when his luck had taken a turn for the worse.

  Now was definitely not the time for his parents to be visiting. He didn’t know where he stood with Viv, and he wasn’t sure it should be anywhere remotely close to where his mother had always thought it should be. Even his dad, usually a man to keep his own counsel, had sided with his mother in telling Cal that he should consider Vivica in making his decision about the Army. Not to mention every time he had come home for R&R, they had raised the question again, wanting to know if he had contacted her, and if not, why not, and when he was intending to do so. He expected no less from them this time, though the question would probably now become what he was waiting for to pop the question.

  He knew very well what he was waiting for. Four more years, and some sign from Viv that she was interested in rekindling what they had had. He knew she was hiding something from him, and until she trusted him enough to open herself completely to him, he wasn’t keen on asking that question. Not even the clear interest his libido still had in her would be enough to make him pursue her. She had to make the first move, show some interest, and be brave. He didn’t need his head handed to him if she rejected him.

  The phone rang again.

  “What did you forget, Sara?” he asked.

  “Invite Vivica,” she said simply, and hung up before he could reply, or protest.

  He sighed, shaking his head as he sipped his second beer. A matchmaking sister who thought she knew the answer to everyone’s love situation was definitely not what he needed right now. He didn’t want anyone poking their nose into his relationship with Viv, because he didn’t have one, and she sure as hell didn’t seem keen on starting one again. He ignored the pain that bloomed in his chest at the thought, deciding it was muscle strain from all the heavy lifting earlier in the day. It certainly didn’t have anything to do with the fact that he wanted Viv to want him.

  His thoughts ran back to the time he had spent with her having dinner in her kitchen. She was gorgeous, even in a t-shirt and jeans, and all the special places he had loved to hold and use to pull her into his embrace were even more seductive to him now than they had been when he was a callow boy. He realized they had both grown up away from each other, but he could safely say he had not grown away from her in spirit. She had written to him once or twice, after the first few letters were sent back to him unopened, and he had been grateful that she had forgiven him enough to write about her family, and ask him about his work. Even though he couldn’t tell her about most of what he did, it was good to know she was there.

  Then she had stopped answering, and so he had stopped writing. How long ago had that been? Fifteen years? He wondered if that’s how long she had been married. And what about kids? Viv and he had talked about how much she loved kids, and how many she was going to have when she got married. He didn’t see any around. Where were they? Disgusted with the train of his thoughts, he emptied the bottle and took it out to the recycling bin. Time for something new. It was too soon for bed, and he had no intention of talking to Viv again until he had gotten himself under more control.

  The piece he had been working on was still where he had left it, under an oil cloth in the little room he called his studio. He switched on the light and took the cloth off, studying the landscape on the canvas. It was still wrong, and he found he couldn’t concentrate to fix it. Instead, he pulled out his sketchbook and began a new piece. His hand seemed to know what it wanted him to draw, and before he knew it, Vivica stared back at him from the page, her dusky chocolate-colored skin vibrant, even in charcoal.

  His hands shook faintly as he dropped the pad. How could twenty years of almost no contact have telescoped into him now not being able to get her off his mind? How had she so usurped his consciousness in a few hours that he was drawing her from memory? He had long ago given up thinking about the possibility of anything with Viv. And while he hadn’t pursued other women, he hadn’t been shy about accepting any offers of bedtime fun. In fact, he had learned a lot about how to be a giving lover from the few women he had chosen to sleep with. But unlike his Army buddies, he was picky, and kept his sexual liaisons to a minimum.

  “I’d rather paint than fuck,” he often told them, “because my paintings didn’t complain if I leave them unfinished, or lambast me when I get back to them after a long time away. I never have to explain my absences to them, or apologize for being inattentive and forgetting our anniversaries.”

  The guys always had a laugh when he said that, and although the thought still made him chuckle, he knew that if he pursued Viv, she would be the one he kept coming back to, the one he hoped wouldn’t kick him to the curb the first time he messed up...which he knew he would. He had loved her with his whole heart, and he was very much afraid that if he let himself go there again, he would find he had never stopped loving her. He couldn’t bear the thought that he might still love a woman whom he had left behind, and who had fallen in love with and married someone else, because he had not been there. And if she rejected him...the very thought shook him to the core. Best not to go there at all, if he could avoid it.

  However, with Sara riding her matchmaking broom, he had to find a way to keep things just friendly with Viv, and at the moment, he was drawing a blank on how to do that. Particularly as he knew if he showed up without her at the girls’ party, he was in for it. He felt like an inexperienced fool, not knowing how to approach the girl he liked to ask her on a date. Not a date, he reminded himself. He was inviting her to his sisters’ birthday party because his older sister had asked -- no, told -- him to. It was not a date. Still, as he got ready for bed, he wondered what costume she would wear, and if he should go as her partner. Sighing at his wayward thoughts, he climbed into bed, his body tense, with the telltale signs of arousal tenting his boxers. He needed to get back to work, sooner rather than later.

  Chapter 4 - Trouble Come In Twos

  The alarm shook Vivica out of a disturbed sleep, and she reached across to shut off the phone, sitting up in bed and hauling the soft blanket up over her naked breasts. She had been dreaming again, but this time, it had not been about the attack. It had been about her sexy next-door neighbor, the boy who had now become a man. And boy, what a man he was! She rubbed a hand over her nipples, still distended in the wake of the dream, and hissed at the pleasure that arced over her. She hadn’t had any kind of physical contact with Cal at dinner two nights before, and she had done her best to avoid showing any hint of the emotions that he had stirred up. But her subconscious waylaid her, and now it was morning, and she was horny, and needy, and wanting him. And not the boy, but the man.

  She lay back against the pillows in the semi-darkness and let her mind recall the height and heft and hunk of him, and the way she had had to stop herself from drooling as she watched him
surreptitiously all through dinner. The boy she had loved with an innocent heart was still there in the cheeky grin, in the sassy comeback, and in the arrogant tilt of his head. The man he had become flexed his muscled arms without intention, curved his full lips in a come-hither smile, licked chocolate mousse off his finger with an easy disregard for her heated hormones. He had no idea how absolutely scrumptious he was, and Vivica worried that she would not be able to hold out if he kept coming around.

  Fortunately for her, today was her first day of work, and she was happy for the distraction it would provide. She would work at the clinic in the afternoon, taking the later shift, which ended at eight, giving her time to do a couple of hours in the morning at the gym. Two jobs would bring her enough funds to pay off the debts she had incurred in moving out of Ray’s house, and begin to save, once they were paid off. Her mortgage was manageable, and she supposed once the divorce was final, the alimony would ease that burden as well. She really wished she didn’t have to take anything at all from him, but Val had persuaded her that it was foolish to let him off the hook so easily. He owed it to her, Val insisted, for all the years she had given him, and the way he had rewarded her for her fidelity and trust. And since she had left everything that she had brought into their marital home with him, to ensure that he couldn’t find her, he owed her for them, as well.

  Sighing, her arousal completely dissipated, she swung her legs out of bed and walked to the bathroom. She had taken to sleeping in the nude after leaving her husband, in an attempt to get back her sense of security. No one was there but her, and she could do what she had stopped doing the first time Ray had come home drunk and tried to force her. That had been five years into their eight-year marriage. As she adjusted the water temperature, she wondered for the umpteenth time why she hadn’t left him then, before things had escalated. But she knew why, and as she showered, she cursed herself for being a fool, expecting a good outcome from a bad situation. She was too much of a romantic, and she needed to let go of trust and hope that some man would become the knight in shining armor that she had dreamed of when she was a child. Cal’s defection should have rid her of that notion.

  Nothing good could come of such musings, and she resolutely pushed them to the back of her mind, dressing quickly, packing her gym bag, and tapping her fingers impatiently on the kitchen counter while she waited for the coffee to finish brewing. She ate an apple standing up, and stuffed another into her gym bag. After pouring the coffee into her large travel mug, she let herself out the door, locking it and glancing over at Cal’s driveway. The big blue truck was gone...something else that hadn’t changed about him. He had always been an early riser, and she supposed that as a soldier, waking and getting on with his day was par for the course, even if his day was only filled with PT.

  Thankfully, the bus stop was two blocks away, and she was at the gym in half an hour. Trey Jonas, the owner, greeted her with a warm smile.

  “Good to see you, Vivica! Ready for a workout? This morning’s group is the sassy midlifers. They will give you what for if you don’t step it up!” He chuckled and led her back to the staffroom where he showed her where she could leave her things after she changed, reminded her of the routines they had discussed for this first group, and then left her alone. She slipped off her shoes and hurried into her black-and-white tiger-striped leotard and black tights. The room where the women waited for her was on the far side of the gym, and she hurried to get there in time to begin the session. It was forty-five minutes long, with a fifteen-minute break before the second session, which would be a private one with a client doing therapeutic massage. When she was almost at the door of the room, a movement caught her eye. She turned her head...and Cal was staring at her as though she were an alien from another planet.

  She smiled, not knowing what else to do, trying not to notice that he was dressed in nothing but tight bike shorts and sweat, and murmured a quiet “Good morning!” before escaping into the room full of middle-aged ladies of all shapes and sizes. They were chattering as they stretched, and after she greeted them, she took them through their paces in stretching and movement, ending with a dance routine that she had been told they liked. She was thankful for their cheerful enthusiasm, because it allowed her to lose herself in the workout, and to release the tension that seeing Cal had created. As they were doing the cooling down stretches, one of the women piped up.

  “So, young lady, are we going to learn a new dance, or do you plan to keep us doing the same old dull routine?”

  Vivica chuckled and promised to come with a new jazz routine the next day. She watched them all file out of the room, and followed them, hoping that Cal had left, or was elsewhere in the gym. The sight of his half-naked body earlier had given her a flashback to the first time she had seen him in a state of almost complete undress, and how she had felt herself grow warm at the evidence of his interest in her. She remembered how he had modeled for her when he noticed her watching him, how they had laughed, and he had kissed her as more than a big brother would do. Now that his body had filled out, everything on him was a mouthwatering source of distraction. He didn’t seem to be around, and she breathed a sigh of relief as she went to take her break. A bottle of water refreshed her, and then she rehearsed in her head the steps she would take in the massage she was about to give. Trey hadn’t told her anything about the client except that he had been injured in an accident and was working hard to get back to full mobility. She would only be his masseuse...he got his PT from someone else.

  Suddenly, it occurred to her that the client might be Cal. Trey had no way of knowing their history, and had no stake in keeping Cal’s identity a secret from her. It would just be a coincidence if he turned out to be the client. She prayed he wasn’t, because if she had to touch him the way she must to provide him with the best, most healing massage, she would lose her mind. Dreading the session now, and wishing she had asked more questions, instead of being so eager to do whatever was asked of her, in the interests of getting the job, she walked slowly toward the massage suite. She had changed into shorts, and she was acutely aware of the way her breasts rounded out the leotard, and the way the shorts hugged her ass.

  Taking a deep breath, she opened the door, and walked in. The man draped on the table on his belly was big and broad, with long, heavily muscled legs. His ass was covered by a towel, but she could see the tattoo on his back and the backs of his arms, and the long scar down the side of one leg. She knew it was Cal by the color of his hair, and the dimples at the tops of his ass that she would have recognized in a lineup. For never having gone all the way with him in bed, she knew an awful lot about Cal’s body. Too damned much, if it was making her tremble now, when she needed steady hands to do her job.

  “Good morning,” she said in a low voice, and watched him turn his head to look at her. The fire in his eyes heated her all over, but she swallowed bravely and said,

  “Let’s get started, then. Trey tells me you need a healing massage after the workout he puts you through. So you know what to expect, but I’ll tell you anyway, just as a reminder.”

  Adopting a business-like tone, she explained everything that she would do to him, and waited to see if he had any questions. When he had none, she poured a bit of oil on his shoulders and began. The oil was warm, and the music she had chosen for the session sounded a low, soothing note in the background. She began at his shoulders, standing at his head and going through the routines to relax his tense muscles. She moved from wide, sweeping warm-ups of the muscles to working on each shoulder blade, attending to his neck muscles with downward and sideways pressing of her thumbs. She alternated standing and kneeling, so she could use her elbows on the upper back, and was only slightly relieved when she could move away from his head to his legs and buttocks.

  Striving to preserve his privacy, she uncovered one butt cheek at a time, and work his glutes and legs individually before having him turn over. Her skin was heated, and not just from the exertion of the work she was doing. So
when he settled on his back and stared into her eyes, she felt a rush of heat spread all over her body. She closed her eyes for a second, inhaling shuddering breaths to calm herself, and nearly jumped out of her skin when she felt his hand on her own.

  “Viv, are you all right?” He squeezed her hand, and she opened her eyes to see him on his side, propped up on his elbow.

  “I’m fine,” she said, swallowing convulsively, but she lowered her eyes, unable to hold his gaze. “Lie back. I’ll be done soon.”

  He smiled. “I’m in no hurry,” he said. “This is the best after-workout massage I’ve had in a long time.” He stayed where he was, and took her hand in his, spreading the fingers and lacing his own through them. “You have the magic touch,” he continued. “But I always knew that.”

  His voice had gotten lower as he spoke, and when he raised her hand to place a soft kiss on the inside of her wrist, she lost her composure for a second and whimpered like a child.

  “Will you be here every morning for me?” he wanted to know next, his tone smug and satisfied, as though he knew the answer.

  Vivica nodded, unhappy with the fact that he took such pleasure in the knowledge. She couldn’t speak around the cotton that clogged her throat, and that pissed her off as well. She had to regain control. This was not the Cal she knew, and she would do well to remember it.

  “Good.” He let go of her hand, and lay back, saying, as he did, “I’m ready again.”

  Wishing she could say the same, and hating that she read into his words more than just a comment about the massage, she set to work rolling and pressing his neck and chest, raising his arms to work his lymph nodes, pressing down his sternum, making wide swathes with her open palms over his abdomen and down his legs. She carefully avoided the area where the tent in the towel told her better than anything he could say how turned on he was, even though she was not doing a sensual massage. If she had had any doubt about her effect on him, what looked like a pretty impressive erection by the end settled the question unmistakably. She told herself it would have happened if a man had been his masseur, because of how all human beings respond to being touched. The lie helped her get through the rest of the hour. She was just grateful that he didn’t try to apologize for it.