A Prince at Last!

by Cathie Linz

  “Luc would be an excellent father,” Juliet murmured, remembering how gentle he’d been with the kittens out in the stable.

  “I heard he took you to the carnival. Don’t look so surprised, very little occurs in this palace that I’m not aware of.”

  “He just needed a bit of time away from all this.”

  “It pains me that he is having trouble accepting the changes in his life.”

  “He needs time. His entire life has been turned upside down,” Juliet gently reminded her.

  “I understand that. What I don’t understand is why he won’t speak to me about it.”

  “Luc has never been the talkative type,” Juliet replied. “He’s not one to share his deepest feelings easily. That’s not to say that he doesn’t have heartfelt emotions, he does even if he doesn’t always want to. But he believes that emotions get in the way.”

  The dowager queen nodded her approval. “A proper royal attitude to be sure.”

  Juliet boldly gathered her courage. “I hope you won’t try and change Luc. He needs the freedom to be himself.”

  The dowager queen gave an imperial shrug. “A certain amount of freedom is lost when you are of royal birth, there is no getting around that fact.”

  “I realize that. But I’d hate to see Luc turn into an emotionless and distant man. I don’t want that for him.”

  “What do you want for him?”

  “His happiness,” Juliet said simply. “I just want him to be happy.”

  “Ah, that may be harder to achieve than you think.”

  “I’d do anything in my power to make him happy,” Juliet fiercely vowed.

  “Would you now, child? That’s admirable.” The dowager queen’s smile turned slightly melancholy. “But I fear that making Luc happy may be something that is beyond either of our abilities to control.”

  Juliet flopped down on her bed with a sigh of relief. She’d survived tea with the dowager queen. Not only had she survived but she’d struck gold—coming back with several pages of notes about the older woman’s life, including her recollections of her mother and herself as a young woman accompanying the royal family to London, where they lived in exile throughout the 1940s and the worst of the Second World War.

  At the time, St. Michel had an active resistance movement, like the French Resistance, and most of the men of the aristocracy joined forces with their fellow countrymen. King Philippe’s grandmother had carried top secret messages with her to give to the British authorities. Another case of a royal de Bergeron woman stepping forward to act courageously.

  A sudden pounding on her door interrupted her thoughts. She was surprised to find Luc standing in the hallway. Looking sexy and agitated, he strode past her without even waiting for an invitation to come in. Juliet barely closed the door before he began speaking. “I heard you were commanded to appear before the dowager queen.”

  “She invited me to tea.”

  “What for? Did she try and pump you for information about me? What did you tell her?”

  She put her finger on his lips as he’d once done her. “One question at a time. Do you remember when we had that protocol lesson in the dining room? When I talked about the difference between interrogation and conversation? This would be a prime example. You’re interrogating me.”

  “I most certainly am.” He relaxed his tense stance and began seductively nibbling her finger. “And I make no apologies for that.”

  “For what?” Her voice was breathless and distracted.

  “For interrogating you. I’m attempting to get the facts here.”

  “And did you think you could nibble them out of me?” She would have sounded righteously indignant were it not for the hint of laughter in her voice.

  “I thought it might be fun to find out.”

  Fun? That was putting it mildly.

  “So what did the dowager queen want?”

  Juliet couldn’t speak coherently and be seduced by him at the same time.

  Taking a step away from him allowed her to resist the temptation Luc provided. “She said she wanted to get to know me better.”

  “She’s known you for years. You came to live here at the palace when you were what—four?”

  “We spent most summers and many vacations with my father’s family so that my mother could focus on bearing Philippe a son. When I was here, I tried to be as quiet and inconspicuous as possible so I wouldn’t be sent away again. Not that we didn’t have a wonderful time with my father’s family, we did. But I missed my mother when I was away from her.”

  “Of course you did. That’s no way for a child to be treated.”

  “You weren’t treated the way a child should be treated, either, being sent off to boarding school so young.”

  “Something we both have in common, eh?” He brushed his fingers across her cheek while gazing at her with his rich blue eyes. “Mothers who selfishly went after what they wanted and damn the consequences.”

  “Or mothers who thought they were doing what was best for us in a difficult situation.” She captured his hand and held it in hers. “Have you thought about reading the letter your mother left you?”

  “I’ve thought about it.”

  “And?”

  “And I’m not doing it. Don’t give me that look. There’s nothing she can say that would change what she did.”

  “I agree that nothing can change what she did, but her letter might explain why she did it.”

  “You’ve always got an answer to everything, don’t you?”

  “I just want what’s best for you, Luc.”

  “This is what’s best for me,” he murmured lowering his head to brush his lips over hers. “Being with you.”

  She felt a ripple of anticipation slide up her spine as he tasted and tested the corners of her mouth, sliding across the full softness in between before lingering. The kiss grew and expanded from one delicious caress into an intimate seduction. Lost in the intimacies of his tongue moving against hers, she was further enthralled by the passage of his hands over her body.

  The demure floral dress she’d worn to the dowager queen’s tea was turned into a temptress’s gown in his able hands. The soft cotton material magnified his every caress, allowing her to feel each one of his fingers as they glided from her back to her breast.

  His embrace became a passport to a world of wondrous sensations as he teased the roof of her mouth with his tongue and claimed her breast in the palm of his hand, his fingers closing over her warm and willing flesh. He brushed her firm nipple with his thumb, making her burn with forbidden pleasure.

  Her knees became weak, and she welcomed the feel of a soft mattress beneath her. His lips never left hers as he followed her down, blanketing her with his powerful body.

  Rolling onto his side, he pulled her closer. She melted against him, caught up in the magic of his touch.

  His knowing fingers gained entrance to the front fastening of her bra. Her highly sensitized nerve endings vibrated when she felt his warm breath on her now-bare skin. Luc didn’t hurry as he caressed and nibbled, kissed and paid homage to every delectable inch of her breasts—running his tongue from the upper line of her ribs to nuzzle the firm underside. Then he traveled up and over, his evocative tongue wickedly trailing along, following the passage of faint blue veins against the creaminess of her flesh until he reached the sensitive peak. His thumb ventured closer, guiding her into the warmth of his mouth.

  Juliet moaned with pleasure and arched her back. His wet heat surrounded even more of her now, even as his lower body throbbed against hers. The hard ridge beneath his trousers fitted with exquisite precision against the aching secret juncture of her body. The stroking contact was more arousing and exciting than anything she’d ever known before.

  The temptation to experience the full possession of this man, to be just once wholly his, was overwhelming. As he settled even more of his weight over her, she greedily welcomed him—his powerful body, his creative seduction. She wanted more.
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  He slid his fingers beneath her dress, caressing the back of her knee before moving upward to her thigh and increasingly closer to the one spot that wept with need. By now the friction of his body moving against hers had become a delicious torment, one he huskily promised to remedy.

  Passion prevailed as her mind was completely monopolized by her body’s urgent desire to merge with his, for the two of them to become one. Urging him on, she opened herself to him.

  But before his seductive fingers could gain access, they were interrupted by the arrival of thirty-six sharp claws scrambling across their partially clothed bodies.

  “Ouch!” Luc exclaimed.

  “Be careful, it’s the kittens,” she warned him, fearing he might toss them aside. “Don’t hurt them.”

  “I would never hurt them, but they can’t say the same for me.” He held out his arm, which now showed a bright red scratch on it.

  “I’m so sorry. I know I’m not supposed to have the kittens in the palace, but I was afraid Mittens and Rascal would get trampled by the horses if I left them in the stables. So I sneaked them inside yesterday.” Juliet stopped her self-conscious refastening of her clothing to gaze at him. “I’m so sorry they hurt you. Shall I kiss it better?”

  His eyes met hers, and he spoke to her without saying a word, making her breath catch and her heart race. The undisguised passion she saw reflected in their blue depths was overwhelming. His gaze ranged over her now-covered curves with the erotic knowledge of a man who’d touched her intimately, who’d taken her to the very threshold of passion’s gate.

  Her body still vibrated with that awareness.

  Before Luc could speak or act on the fiery desire etched on his face, they were interrupted again as the door bounced open. This time it wasn’t kittens, it was her younger sister Jacqueline.

  “So, what are you two up to…or shouldn’t I ask?” the precocious adolescent inquired with a wicked grin.

  Chapter Nine

  “Jacqueline!” Juliet leapt from the bed as if propelled by one of the medieval catapults on display in the palace dungeon. “What are you doing here? And why is your hair purple?”

  “More important what are you and Luc doing on your bed?”

  “Nothing.” Juliet frantically smoothed her hair, which had come loose from the French braid. “I was just showing him the kittens.”

  “I don’t think that’s all you were showing him,” her impudent sister drawled.

  Juliet frowned at her. “I thought you wouldn’t be back until next week.”

  “I missed everyone in St. Michel too much to stay away any longer.”

  “Well, I’d better get back to work.” Luc was clearly eager to avoid getting stuck overhearing a sisterly heart-to-heart conversation.

  “You might want to wipe the lipstick from your cheek before you do,” Jacqueline advised him.

  “She’s just kidding,” Juliet hastily assured Luc. “There is no lipstick on your cheek.”

  Jacqueline showed no remorse. “Only because my bookish big sister doesn’t wear any.”

  “Nice having you back, Muffin,” Luc told her with a grin.

  “Nice being back, Spyman.” Seeing Juliet’s startled look, the twelve-year-old added, “That’s my nickname for him. Didn’t you tell her, Luc?”

  He shook his head, which tumbled more of his dark hair onto his forehead. Had she messed up his hair? Juliet had hazy memories of running her fingers through the surprisingly silky dark strands as he caressed her bare breasts with his seductive mouth and tongue.

  “No, I didn’t tell her,” Luc was saying. “Some things are meant to be top secret, Muffin.”

  Jacqueline nodded with a maturity beyond her years. “Understood, Spyman. See you around.”

  Juliet waited until Luc had left before turning to her sister. “Jacqueline, you really can’t go calling Luc Spyman any longer.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because…well…” She floundered a moment, remembering that Luc didn’t want anyone else knowing about his true background just yet. “I can’t tell you all the details right now, but believe me when I say that there are very good reasons.”

  “You mean because he may soon be king?”

  Juliet almost swallowed her tongue. “Where did you hear that?”

  Jacqueline shrugged and dropped into a nearby comfy chair, flinging one leg over the arm. “Grandmama told me. I stopped by to see her before coming here.”

  The dowager queen was indeed Jacqueline’s grandmother. Her sister was able to straddle both worlds—the royal world of her father the king and the real world of their mother. All this and she was only twelve.

  Still stunned, Juliet was not expecting her sister’s next observation. “So, Luc has turned out to be quite a hottie, huh?”

  Juliet blushed a brilliant shade of red.

  “Oh, so you think so, too?” Her sister practically chortled with delight.

  “I think that purple hair better be temporary. And you should have changed clothes before seeing the dowager queen.” Juliet tugged her sister to her feet. “Why are there holes in your jeans? That top is much too skimpy. And what is that in your navel?”

  “It’s not permanent. It’s a navel gem. And the girls at school love my clothes, they think I look like Britney Spears.”

  “Not a goal of mine, I admit. And it shouldn’t be one of yours, either. She is an entertainer, you are—”

  “The daughter of a king,” Jacqueline cut in. “Yeah, I’ve heard it all before. And for your information, Grandmama loved my outfit. And my hair. She told me so herself. She said if she were a decade or two younger, she’d be wearing a navel gem herself.”

  Juliet had to laugh at the idea of the proper dowager queen ever showing her navel.

  “You should show more skin yourself,” Jacqueline advised her. “You usually dress as if you were Grandmama’s age.”

  “Thank you for those kind words,” Juliet noted dryly.

  “I wasn’t trying to be insulting, I was just telling the truth. Isn’t that what you are always after me to do? To tell the truth?”

  “When it’s appropriate.”

  “And when it’s not?” Jacqueline instantly demanded.

  “Then if you can’t say something nice, say nothing at all.”

  “I like your kittens. That’s something nice, isn’t it?” She scooped Rascal up and dropped back into the chair. “So tell me, why were you and Luc making out?”

  “Jacqueline!”

  Her younger sister blinked up at her, making Juliet realize that she was wearing glittery eyeshadow that matched her purple hair. “What?”

  “That is not an appropriate question. Not that Luc and I were making out.” First lying to the dowager queen earlier that afternoon, now lying to her sister. What was happening to her? Juliet wondered. She used to be a very honest person, wrapped up in her books and research. Not at all the kind of woman who’d make out with a sexy man like Luc.

  “Now who’s not telling the truth?” Jacqueline sent a very pointed look at the rumpled bedcoverings.

  Juliet was about to resume her defensive posture when an inner voice advised her to wait a minute. Her younger sister was not her keeper. Juliet was the older, the wiser, and the more conservative one. Usually. “I don’t have to explain myself to you.”

  “Why not?” Jacqueline’s mutinous expression was pure adolescence. At times like this, Juliet fervently wished their mother was still alive to help guide them both. “I always have to tell you everything. It’s not fair.”

  “Life isn’t always fair,” Juliet noted quietly. “I suppose it’s time we both learned that.”

  “Ah, Luc, I’m so glad you decided to join us,” the dowager queen said as she welcomed him to the White Drawing Room.

  Luc knew this was the room where the dowager queen had hosted tea with Juliet earlier that afternoon, before he’d almost seduced Juliet in her own bed. His body still hadn’t recovered. He was a man accustomed to being in cont
rol—of his life, of his future, of his emotions. All that had been blown sky-high the past few weeks and he was left with chaos. He did not like chaos.

  This was neither the time nor the place to brood over what had happened—not to mention what had almost happened—in Juliet’s private apartments. His thoughts were too jumbled to make any sense at the moment anyway.

  “I’m joining you because you practically ordered me here.”

  “You’re the king.” She gave him an arch look. “No one should be able to order you to do anything.”

  “That’s the first good thing I’ve heard about this job,” he growled. “So what’s the emergency?”

  “You do have a way of getting right to the point, don’t you?” She didn’t make it sound like a compliment, and her laser gaze indicated her displeasure.

  “So I’ve been told.”

  “By Juliet?”

  “You and I had an agreement about my private life being off-limits, remember?”

  “We had an agreement that you would call me Grandmother, remember? And that you would spend more time with me.”

  Luc sighed. “I spent time with you yesterday morning, Grandmother. That’s when you promised not to interfere in my private life, remember?”

  “I promised not to interrogate you again. I didn’t say anything about not interrogating Juliet. But that’s besides the point. I called you here today to discuss St. Michel’s national security.”

  “Then why isn’t the prime minister here?”

  “The poor man came down with a touch of tummy flu. Too many hours spent with the Privy Council if you ask me.”

  “What is this matter of national security you’re talking about?”

  “I think Ariane and Etienne should tell you themselves. Ah, here they are now. Right on time.”

  Prince Etienne of Rhineland had the aristocratic bearing of a man born into royalty. Wearing a superbly tailored suit, he possessed the confidence of a ruler.

  Not that Luc wasn’t a confident man. He was. But a ruler? The jury was still out on that one.

  Like her husband, Princess Ariane also had that regal manner down pat. A petite woman with blond shoulder-length hair and blue eyes, she had an adventurous nature that sometimes got her into trouble. For instance, there had been the time she’d decided to go to Rhineland to spy on the royal family in an attempt to learn more about the rumored plot to take over St. Michel. She’d learned that the royal family had no part in it, and then she’d fallen in love with the prince.