Seduced by the Prince

by Cristina Grenier

  “Thanks for coming, Viv! You look great! I hope Cal is treating you right!” She smiled when Viv lowered her eyes. “I see!” she said. “That’s all right then. Welcome to the family, Sis!”

  Viv looked up at her, startled, but Sara just smiled wider and helped her with her coat. Cal returned just then and said his parents might have a ride, so he could stay if she needed him to. Deciding not to argue, she walked with him out to the limo that he had also pulled out in front. It was still warming up when he settled her into the seat, and pulled a blanket over her knees.

  “Sorry it’s still cold,” he said, but she shushed him.

  “It’s actually better for me when it’s cold.” She smiled at him as he turned back and set the car in motion. To distract him from worrying about her, she asked him about Debbie’s man.

  “His father’s a mob enforcer,” he told her, “and Ethan was dabbling about at the edges of the business when he and Debbie met ten years ago. When I found out, I went ballistic. Our parents didn’t know. When he got shot during a drug bust, I told Debbie she couldn’t see him again, that he was a common criminal, and that if she disobeyed me, she would bring shame on our family. I told her about the drug bust, and that he had been implicated in the murder of a known drug dealer.”

  Viv gasped. “My God!”

  “Exactly! She was livid, because she had fallen for him, and I was less than kind in ripping the wool from over her eyes. Apparently, he hadn’t told her any of this. You can understand why he wouldn’t, I guess. Anyway, he was sent away for conspiracy to commit a felony, and as part of his rehab, he was sent, with some other prisoners who weren’t hard core, to a monastery on the west coast that specializes in rehabbing prisoners. I’m not sure how he managed to escape his mob connections, but I guess he’s different. His vibe is different. And my parents know everything now. If they’re good with it, I’ll learn to be.”

  He grew silent, and Viv left him alone with his thoughts. Soon they were pulling up before her house. He got out and helped her out, escorting her to her door. As she took out her key, he said, “I would kiss you goodnight, but that would only start something you don’t look ready to finish. So I’ll wait until you’ve locked and bolted the door, and then I’ll go get my parents. But if you need me, call me, okay?”

  Viv smiled up at him. “I will, I promise.” She touched his sleeve for a moment, and then turned and walked into her house.

  Chapter 10 -- Taking Care of Business

  Cal drove his parent’s home an hour later, and tried to rid himself of the overpowering feeling of doom that had settled on his shoulders the minute he had driven away from Vivica’s house. There had been no suspicious vehicles on the street, nor any sign of her crazy husband or his distinctive car. But when the hairs on the back of his neck rose, he knew something bad was going to happen. He drove as fast as he could, and when he got home, he gave his father the key, retrieved his Glock from the glove compartment of his truck, and walked over to Viv’s house. It was dark, as it had been when he had dropped her off. He walked the two sides, and then went around to the back.

  Nothing stirred, and he was just about to give up when he saw it -- the ladder overturned on the ground, and a second-story window open. Immediately, he stole closer, looking in through the lower windows, but there was no movement inside. He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket, ready to call 911 if anything looked wrong. He told himself that Viv might have used the ladder when she first moved in and just not put it back where it belonged. Since he had never been to the back of her house, that was a plausible explanation. And the window? She could have opened it herself, he realized.

  But something told him he wasn’t losing his mind. Something was very wrong. And then he heard it. A scream. And then another. And then cries loud enough to wake him if he had been in his own house. He heard scuffling, and a man’s voice, and then silence. Cal hit the speed dial for emergencies, and when the caller answered, he told them where he was, what he thought was happening, and who he was. Then he hung up, because he knew they were going to tell him to wait for the police, and he had no intention of doing any such thing. Vivica belonged to him, and she was being attacked and hurt. Whoever it was was going to pay, before any cop got anywhere close.

  He walked back around to the front on silent feet, his heart breaking every time he heard Viv scream. He opened the front door with the key she had given him, and closed it silently behind him. The sounds were coming from upstairs. The fucker had her in her bedroom. Cal’s heart hammered in his chest. His mind whirled with all the possibilities of what was happening to her, what he would do if anything happened to her, how he would live without her for the rest of his life.

  No mission had ever been more critical, and he needed to have his wits about him, and not let his emotions get in the way of a safe extraction of the hostage, and a successful take-down of the target. He spoke to himself in terms of his job, talking himself down and collecting the remnants of his control around him like a heavy cloak. Viv needed him to be prepared for action, and he wouldn’t let her down. Ascending the stairs as silently as Death, he approached her bedroom, and heard her attacker speaking to her in low tones.

  “I told you to come home, Vivica, but you disobeyed me. You thought you could flaunt yourself before other men and get away with it. You thought you could escape me, but I showed you again that I’m in charge. Not you. Never you. And now you’ve gone and made me punish you.”

  Another silence, during which Cal heard her whimper, whether in pain or fear he didn’t know.

  “I’m going to take what’s mine now, and then I’m going to take you home.”

  Cal heard a struggle and crept closer, putting his eye to the space left by the door that the man had left ajar. Viv was crying again, and he saw why. Her big bruiser of a husband had tied the boa around her mouth, ripped her dress and tied her hands above her head with the scraps. She was lying on the floor, spread-eagled, her body bare except for the tattered remnants of her dress which he had hiked up under her breasts.

  He had exposed those as well, and was squeezing one while Viv writhed and cried out beneath his hands, as he rammed her with his cock, which he had apparently freed merely by unzipping his pants. Cal knew those were not the sounds of a woman enjoying sex, and his heart broke. He didn’t have a clear shot, and he didn’t want to engage with Porter until he had disabled him. He was not a hundred percent whole himself, and he didn’t want to give this man any advantage, or Viv would pay the price for his carelessness.

  He watched as Ray Porter twisted her nipple, and then slid the boa from between her lips so he could kiss her. Cal’s stomach churned as he watched helplessly and planned a strategy to get him away from her.

  “I’m gonna fuck you nice and slow and proper now, bitch. Beg me to fuck you!”

  “No!” Viv shouted, and he backhanded her hard before standing up to unbuckle his belt.

  Cal waited until he had his pants around his ankles, the belt in his hand, and then he stepped into the room.

  “Better put that down nice and slow, asshole, or I’ll put a bullet in you!”

  Ray Porter whipped around in amazement, staring down the barrel of Cal’s Glock as though he was seeing things, and then he moved to swing the belt. Cal shot him once, in the arm wielding the belt, and he howled as he dropped it. Cal could see the rage building in the man, and knew he might have to put him out of commission if he didn’t stand down. He didn’t want Viv to see him kill a man, but he would if he had no choice. Porter charged him, coming at him with his good arm. Cal shot him again just as he swung at him, and stepped away from him. In the distance, he could hear the sirens approaching, and he breathed a little easier but kept his eyes on his target, who was struggling to stand with two useless arms.

  “I’m gonna kill you, motherfucker!” Porter raged at him. “Who the fuck do you think you are to come barging in here interrupting me and my wife in our home?”

  “I’m your worst nightmare,
asshole. Captain Caleb Appleton, United States Army, at your service. Now, just give me another reason to plug you, and I will.”

  Downstairs, the front door burst in and Cal heard “Police!”

  “Up here!” he answered loudly, keeping his gun trained on Porter, who began to look around him like a wild, trapped creature.

  When the police burst into the room, he waited until they had their guns trained on Porter before he put his own down on the floor, and raised his hands above his head.

  “Who called this in?” the closest cop asked.

  “I did,” Cal answered.

  “And who are you?”

  “Caleb Appleton, US Army. I live next door.” Before the cop could proceed, Cal said, “Look, can I just get her something to cover herself?”

  The cop nodded, and Cal walked around the now cuffed and screaming Porter and loosed Viv’s hands, then dragged the sheet off the bed and wrapped her in it.

  “Cal,” she whimpered, her voice broken. Her lip was bleeding, and the cut on her cheek had reopened. Her wrists were bruised, and she was sniveling and shivering.

  “I’m here, baby! I won’t leave you, I promise.” He turned back to the cop. “She needs the medics,” he said.

  “Sir, we’re going to need a statement from her, and from you…”

  “Yeah, as soon as she sees a medic. Porter was assaulting her when I got here.”

  “Porter?”

  “Yeah. That’s his name. Ray Porter.”

  “Ma’am, do you know this man?” the cop asked, deliberately addressing his next question to Viv.

  “Yes,” she whispered, fresh tears streaming from her eyes.

  “Look, can’t this wait?” Cal asked, frustrated and pissed off at the world. He hadn’t been in time to save the woman he loved from the ultimate degradation.

  “Just one more question for now, sir, and then we’ll wait until she’s seen to,” the cop said, giving him the stink eye. Cal didn’t care what he thought, but he let him ask his question.

  “Who is he, ma’am?”

  Vivica swallowed and whispered, “He’s my husband.”

  The paramedics arrived just then, and the awkward silence was broken as they took over, though Viv wouldn’t let them send Cal away. When she told them she had been raped, they told her she’d have to go to the hospital. She balked, but Cal talked her into it by promising to go with her. He called his parents, filling them in briefly, and then followed the ambulance in his truck to the hospital where she was seen almost immediately. They did a rape kit, even though they had been told who had raped her, and they had a psychologist come in to talk to her, without Cal in the room. They had asked him for a DNA sample, and he had gladly given it. He knew it wasn’t his semen in her channel, and he knew he had no scratch marks anywhere on him.

  Finally, they had told him he could take her home, and he had driven her back and taken her to his house, where his mother was up waiting for them. He watched helplessly as she sobbed in his mother’s arms, and wanted to slam his fist into a wall. His father must have seen the emotions he was struggling to control in his eyes, because he took him out of the kitchen to his studio, and closed the door.

  “Son, she’ll be all right. She’s got us for the next few days, and you for longer. You’ll help her through this.”

  “I shouldn’t have left her alone, Dad,” he berated himself. “I knew something was off. He must have broken in and been waiting for her when she got home.”

  His father fixed him with a slow stare. “Did you do everything you could to ensure her safety before you left her? And when you found out she was in danger, did you do everything you could to keep her safe? And did you help to apprehend her attacker?”

  “Yes, but…”

  “Then there is nothing more you could have done, son.”

  “I watched him, Dad. I watched him raping her.” Cal’s voice was thick with anger and disgust at himself.

  “Could you have stopped him, son?”

  “Not without possibly hurting her, or making him hurt her more, no.”

  His father sighed. “Look, I know how difficult it is for you to hear this, because you are who you are. But you can’t be responsible for everyone you love all the time. You can’t save them from harm all the time. You are just one man, Cal, and though you are a good man, you can’t fix everything. And you won’t help her if you keep carrying around this guilt you’ve decided to shoulder on her behalf. She needs you, son. But it’s not about you. It’s about her. Just remember that.”

  His father squeezed his shoulder in understanding, and walked out, leaving him alone with his thoughts. Cal knew he was right. It wasn’t about him, or his feelings. It was about Viv, and what she had gone through, and how he was going to help her get better, and move past this. He looked around him at the sketches and drawings of her that he had started since she had walked back into his life three weeks ago, and he knew he would do anything to keep her this time around. The door opened and his mother stuck her head in.

  “Viv wants you, Cal,” she said, and held the door open for him. “She’s waiting for you upstairs.” When he passed her, she touched his arm, stopping him. “I know you understand how terrible a thing it is that has happened to her, son. But what you need to know is that she worries that you won’t want her anymore because she let herself be touched by that maniac. She thinks she’s too used to be useful to anyone, especially to you. Be gentle with her, but let her know how you feel. It’s well past time. And now, more than ever, she needs to know.”

  “I left her again, Ma,” he said, his voice breaking. “She trusted me, and I left her again.”

  “Oh son!” His mother briefly wrapped her arms around him, and then pulled his face down so she could kiss his cheek. “Even if that were true, and I don’t believe it for a moment, she knows you’re here now. That’s all she needs. Now go on. She’s waiting.”

  She pushed him gently toward the stairs, and as he walked up, he felt like he was heading to a court martial. He waited until his hands stopped shaking before knocking on her door. A soft invitation had him opening the door. Viv was propped up in bed, a frilly pink nightie covering the parts of her that he could see. Her eyes were wide and sad, and when she looked into his own, the tears filled them again. He rushed over to sit on the edge of the bed, taking her hands in his, but she pulled them away and whispered, “Please, Cal, please hold me!”

  He moved closer, and pulled her into his arms. She hugged him tightly, weeping silently into his chest, soaking his chauffeur’s shirt. He didn’t care. He knew she needed to cry, but it tore him up inside to feel her silent sobs, to know she was wracked with pain and loathing and doubt, and to know there was nothing he could do except hug her.

  He felt completely useless, but as his father had reminded him, it wasn’t about him. So he pushed those feelings aside, and rubbed her back. He soothed her with quiet words, telling her she was beautiful. And then he realized that this was the best time to do as his mother had said he needed to do. He pulled away from her, and she mewled and struggled to keep him there, where she could hide her face in his chest.

  “Baby, look at me,” he said, holding her and waiting until she did as he asked. “Do you trust me?” he asked when she did.

  She stared into his face for a long, agonizing moment, and then she nodded. “Why do you ask?” she wanted to know, hiccupping.

  “Because it’s something you need to believe.” He took her face in his hands, and though he longed to kiss her lips and reassure her that way, he didn’t think she was ready for that so soon after the attack. She looked steadily at him, and he inhaled deeply and said, “I love you, Viv. Always. Forever.”

  She kept her eyes on his face as if she were studying it in case she went blind, and then she said, “I know.”

  She hid her face in his chest again, and Cal wondered if she would ever feel safe enough to tell him she loved him too. He tried not to be hurt that she hadn’t returned the sentiment immedia
tely, reminding himself that she had just been brutalized by a man who had said those very words to her, for whom she must have had some feelings. And he reminded himself yet again that it wasn’t about him. So when she lifted her face from his chest and reached up to touch his cheek, he didn’t expect the next words that left her lips.

  “I love you too, Cal. Always. Forever.” And then she kissed him.

  His heart filled up with so much emotion he thought he would burst. He couldn’t stop his hands from trembling on her back. She had rendered him speechless with joy and gratitude.

  “Don’t leave me, Cal. I won’t sleep if you’re not here with me,” she told him.

  “I won’t leave you, I promise.”

  He stood up and moved away from her, shucking the chauffeur’s jacket and removing his dress pants. Then he climbed into the bed next to her, and she reached for him again, as though he were a lifeline in a storm at sea. He hugged her tightly, wrapping the covers around them, and felt her relax completely and fall asleep. He held her all night, lightly dozing so he could be awake in an instant if she needed him. But she slept like a baby, her face tucked into his neck, her arms wrapped around his torso. When he woke up, the sun was just peeping over the horizon, and Cal needed a bathroom break. He slid away from her body, which was moving restlessly beneath the covers, hoping she was still sufficiently asleep that she wouldn’t notice. When he was done, he walked back in to find her sitting up, looking adorably rumpled, the granny nightie she was wearing only making her more sexy in his eyes.

  “Good morning,” he said, sliding back into bed beside her. “How are you feeling?”

  She inhaled a shuddering breath and replied, “Fragile. Like I’m going to break apart unless I can find a way to keep the pieces of me together.”

  He pulled her tight against his side and whispered in her ear, “I’m here. I’ll do that for you, if you’ll let me.”

  Unexpectedly, his stomach rumbled, and when she smiled, he felt relief swamp him. She wouldn’t cry if she was smiling or laughing. He would need to find ways to keep her focus off how fragile she felt until the feeling passed.