by Janice Lynn
As much as it scared her, Rob was her Prince Charming--the only man for her.
Her breath caught as swirls of heat began to gyrate in her boiling center. Tiny bursts of electricity exploded, each one gaining momentum until Jill just knew she was going to explode like a fourth of July fireworks display.
Then she did.
Her back arched high off the bed, her hands clamped tight to his, her heart hammered. She gasped for breath that seemed impossible to catch as wave upon wave of sweet spasm rocked her.
Just as her inner thighs clenched with the peak of her orgasm, Rob covered her mouth with his and blew his breath into her, filling her empty lungs as he came with her. Hard.
Ohmygod. Oh. Yes. Yes. Yes.
She held his intoxicating air inside her lungs until heady dizziness overtook her. Still, she kept the life-sustaining air he’d given her until her chest threatened to burst.
When her breath released in a soft, swift gush, sizzling quivers sent her over the edge again, falling right into one amazing orgasm after another.
Rob’s gentle, searching kiss told her she wasn’t alone in the needy-for-reassurance emotional aftermath of the most phenomenal experience of her life.
How was she supposed to choose a bachelor when her heart had made its choice and no other man would ever do?
# # #
“I can not do this.” Isabella informed JP moments after he entered her suite.
“Why not?”
Funny, he did not seem as upset as she had thought he would.
“Because this is wrong and I can not see the purpose of my interrupting your show. What difference could it possibly make for me to show my face? Your show has been a success in your country. My appearance would only cause pain to your Jane Millionaire.”
And possibly to Jeff. Had he fallen in love with the beautiful “Jane”?
JP shrugged. “Okay, if you don’t want your moment in the spotlight, that’s fine with me.”
“Really?” Not in her wildest dreams had she envisioned her conversation with JP going this well. She had expected to have to plead with him.
“Sure, but I have to admit, you surprise me.”
There the man went with his disgusting cigar. Did he think she did not know he snuck and smoke when he was in his rooms? Did he think her staff not loyal to her, their princess?
“Why?”
JP laughed, walking over to look at an antique, gold inlayed snuffbox her father had given her as a gift. “Well, you’re missing your chance with Kensington, for one thing.”
“My chance with Jeff? What do you mean?”
“Cut the crap, your Highness. We both know you brought him here because you’re in love with him. Nice fellow, too.”
In another century she could have had him beheaded for speaking to her in such a manner. At times, Isabella longed for the past ways.
“I do not see your point. What does my feelings for Jeff have to do with today?”
He picked the snuffbox up and Isabella had to squelch the urge to ask him to set it down. “If you don’t make your appearance at the taping of the show today, you’ll never know how he really feels, will you? You’ll basically be giving your blessing for him to woo another woman. Come to think of it, that’s what you’ve already done by bringing him here under false pretenses.”
“I-” She wanted to deny his words, but could not. She had arranged for Jeff’s inclusion. Just so she could see him once more.
And the truth was, she loved him. Had known she had when she had been at his mission site and had volunteered to stay longer. She had only left when news of her father’s illness had been delivered. Left without telling Jeff goodbye. How could she explain that her father was king and might be dying? That although she had fallen in love with him, she did not know if she would ever see him again?
But she had had to. Her heart had demanded to know if the emotions in her chest were real or the figments of her vivid imagination.
“I will be married before the end of summer. Jeff need never know I was here.”
JP shrugged. “That’s your choice, Princess. Your choice.”
She nodded. Her choice. If only.
“But it’s a shame as we both know he came here for you. Don’t you think he deserves to know the truth?”
The truth. Isabella closed her eyes. Tell Jeff that after a year apart she still loved him. But even if he loved her, they could not be together because although he was the prince of her heart, he was not royalty by blood.
“Just think about it. You’ve still got about an hour before the show starts. Why not let Jeff know you’re here? What’s the worst that can happen?”
Did he mean other than the possibility that she might selfishly denounce the throne by choosing to be with Jeff, if he would still have her? To let her honorable, but chauvinistic cousin to become king and stall women’s rights and equality?
Then the truth occurred to her.
The worst thing she could imagine would be Jeff seeing her and not caring one way or the other that she had stepped back into his life after a year’s absence.
Was that the real reason she had decided against her arranged role in the grand finale of Jane Millionaire?
What was the worst that could happen, indeed?
# # #
Breakfast was a tense affair.
All the bachelors were on edge. Jill wiped her sweaty palms with a perfectly pressed white cloth napkin. Heck, she was edgy, too.
A fire roared in the six-foot wide fireplace along one stone wall. The blaze had to be for ambience because the weather was gorgeous and this room felt hotter than Hades.
She shifted in her seat of honor at the twenty-foot, elaborately set dining table. China, silverware, crystal juice glasses, gorgeous fresh floral arrangements. She halfway expected Jeeves to come ask if she’d like some Grey Poupon with her Eggs Benedict. Would she miss being waited on hand and foot when she went back to California? Somehow she doubted that’s what she’d be missing.
Two bachelors sat to either side of her. Jeff on her immediate right and Steve to her left. All four stared at her as they picked at their breakfast.
She was certainly the center of attention this morning.
She averted her gaze to the intricate imperial pattern on the edge of the china and caught a faint whiff of the vivid blossom’s fragrance over the aroma of their food.
Their last meal together.
She hadn’t said much this morning and even Jeff had quit trying to elicit conversation after several failed attempts. She simply didn’t know what to say. Not to Jeff or Steve. Certainly not to the other two bachelors.
She didn’t want to spend a week on a tropical island on a pretend honeymoon.
At least not with any of them.
And she was tired of pretending. She just wanted to be herself and to hell with anyone who didn’t like it. And before long, she’d go back to being plain Jill Davidson, instead of Princess Isabella Jane Strovanik.
She should suck it up and quit sulking. It was unlikely she’d have to go on the “honeymoon”, anyway.
She’d pick Jeff, he’d choose the money, and that would be the end of her royal stint.
The end of her time with Rob.
But, oh, what an ending it had been.
Her stomach flip-flopped at the memory of what they’d shared early this morning.
Hot, sweaty, glorious love-making.
And Rob had made love to her.
She dropped her fork onto the white lacy tablecloth. It’s tines clanged against a fragile appearing saucer, the noise reverberating around the silent room.
“Excuse me,” she murmured in her princess voice and picked up the utensil to take another bite of perfectly prepared sex, er, eggs.
Oh, man. She had to get her mind off Rob, before she made a complete fool of herself in front of the ever-present cameramen.
But the more she tried, the more memories flooded her.
Rob had been wild and wonde
rful, and she’d felt the desperation in his lovemaking. Feral. Hungry. Out of control. Yet, tender, giving, almost worshipful in his touches, his kisses.
In the two hours he’d been in her bed, he’d loved her thoroughly. Over and over.
Had he been memorizing every touch, every scent, every taste, as she had?
They’d both known they were saying goodbye.
Even if she hadn’t been able to tell him how he affected her, at least she’d had the opportunity to show him. No words had passed between them. Only the guttural sounds of shared ecstasy.
Words hadn’t been needed.
He’d devoured her, and she’d been his willing captive.
Of course, in round two--or had it been three?--she’d devoured him right back. A smile played on her lips. If his powerful climax had been anything to judge by, he’d been a happy camper as well.
In some ways she was glad he’d insisted upon no words and not just because of the camera.
What could be said at this point?
They were two very different people stealing a few passion-filled moments in time, a fantasy affair in a fantasy castle, nothing more. For sanity’s sake, she’d leave it at that and not ponder that had they talked this morning, she might have whispered words of love.
Which would have been totally dim-witted.
Thank goodness they hadn’t been talking because she did not love Rob Lancaster.
She swallowed the tasteless lump of egg in her mouth.
She didn’t love Rob. She couldn’t.
What she needed was to finish this day, go home, and be thankful no one had figured out she wasn’t the woman who’d signed up to play this part.
Which amounted to fraud.
Fraud.
She, Miss Upstanding Citizen and Dedicated Police Officer, had committed fraud. If she got discovered, she would most likely lose her job, not to mention the possibility of going to jail for thirty days. Not a pleasant prospect for a cop to be incarcerated along side criminals she’d helped put away. Life would be hell.
Might be anyway.
Jeff leaned close and whispered, “Are you okay?”
She stared at him, but didn’t speak. Maybe she still wasn’t talking? Maybe she’d never talk again. Then she wouldn’t have to choose to go on a fake honeymoon with the wrong man.
Not that Rob was the right man. He was a big shot producer. A man with money and prestige.
“Everything’s going to be alright.” He patted her hand, offering assurance. “Just wait and see.”
He was wrong, of course, but then for Jeff everything would be all right because before the day ended he’d be a hundred thousand dollars richer to go along with his new tie, Rolex, flat screen television and media center--to watch reality TV on no doubt, and, after the last round of bootees, a new luxury car. All generously provided by the show’s sponsors.
Her stomach roiled.
She took another bite, hoping the tasteless food settled her stomach.
As the morning passed, Jill jumped through all the hoops JP put forth. She smiled, spent time with each bachelor and discussed her choices with the cameras recording every move she made. She posed for more publicity shots. Hadn’t they done enough between all the hours prior to the bachelors’ arrival and the ones they’d done of her with them since? Apparently not. Rob stayed conspicuously hidden for a man who’d supervised all her previous photo shoots.
Despite the deep hurt in her chest, she smiled some more.
Her face ached from smiling so much.
She was so ready to have this over and be on her way to California, back to her own familiar, safe world. But even as she thought it, she knew she’d never view her world the same again.
Rob had changed how she looked at life.
At the dreaded noon hour, she, along with the four bachelors sat in a gym-sized cathedral appearing room with marble floors and tall wooden support pillars, a room where kings had once decided fates much grander than the one she’d make today.
The bachelors were seated on wooden pews, like subjects at her court. The walls were stone, but beautiful paintings of victorious battle scenes covered each one.
Shivers ran down her spine.
Surely, kings had knighted brave men in this very room once upon a time. It seemed a travesty that she, with a jewel-encrusted tiara upon her head, sat on the large, elaborately ornate throne. Under less stressful circumstances, she’d laugh her butt off at the pure hilariousness of it.
Jill Davidson on a throne.
The only throne she rated was of the porcelain variety.
God, she felt like such a phony.
Most of the crewmembers had gathered in the back of the large room to watch as she made her choice. Rob in his fancy duds and host-with-the-most smile stood a few yards away. But he’d yet to meet her gaze. She fought the urge to make him look, make him admit that this was what he really wanted.
It had to be, since he was going along with the whole scenario.
If he cared about her, he’d stop this foolishness.
Bright lights focused on where they stood, almost blinding her with their intensity--not to mention how hot their glare was. She might just melt.
Hmm, would melting save her from an even worse public humiliation?
Regardless, the cameras were rolling and sweating wasn’t allowed today as JP had reminded her after breakfast. You’d have thought fanning herself was a major crime with the way he’d carried on. But then again, this gown was too gorgeous to sweat in anyway.
A white material that resembled pearls accented the shape of her upper body and the skirt flared out at her hips, falling in soft, pearly folds. Hints of gold laced the material. Tiffany’s had once again provided jewelry that probably outshone many a real princess’s jewels. Teardrop shaped diamonds and pearls encrusted on a heavy platinum chain draped her neck. A matching tiara graced her head.
At least she appeared her royal role even if she didn’t feel it.
She glanced at each bachelor, following JP’s instructions to the T. She listened to Rob make his speech, then began her own rehearsed spiel.
“As each of you know, I have to make a decision today. I’ve enjoyed the past month, having been given the opportunity to know each of you.” She paused, wishing her heart was into this. “But I can only chose one.”
She looked at each bachelor on the pew. Why was her pulse throbbing so fast? She fought the need to glance at the host, all decked out in his tuxedo and looking snazzier than any man should be allowed.
And lost her battle.
He looked so good in his spiffy clothes. So very good out of his clothes.
She shuddered with an onslaught of memories of what they’d been doing only hours before. With memories of how the moonlight had illuminated his tone flesh from time to time, as he’d loved her.
Another glance revealed that his dark hair was stylishly tousled; much like she’d imagined it had looked when he’d crawled into her bed. Had he been running his fingers through it? Was he as frustrated about this set-up as she was? What would he do if she said she wouldn’t choose one of the bachelors because she wanted him?
When her gaze collided with his, she knew. Knew why her heart wasn’t into anything but the man with the hot whiskey eyes staring back at her.
She could deny it all she wanted, but the truth couldn’t be suppressed. Jill Davidson loved Rob Lancaster. Forever and always. With all her heart and soul and most definitely all of her body.
She swallowed and looked away, accidentally catching Jeff’s gaze. His eyes were warm, friendly, and he genuinely smiled at her. Not an “I’m in love with you smile”, but a nice enough expression that showed he cared about her as a person.
Why? Why couldn’t she have fallen for him?
She felt totally ridiculous. The cameras were rolling. Everyone waited on her to make her great revelation. Time was ticking away. She had to say Jeff’s name. For her sake. For Jessie’s sake. For Rob’s. JP’s. Everyone�
�s.
Just say the words. Say Jeff’s name and be done with it. She told herself. It’s not like you’ll have to go on the trip anyway. He’ll take the money. You want him to take the money.
Still unable to speak, she tilted her head to stare at Rob once more.
His eyes were unreadable from the ten feet separating them, but she doubted she would have been able to read him had he been standing directly in front of her.
Unless it was to see the message for her to forget her feelings for him and do what needed done.
“I choose--”
“Stop.” Every head in the room spun to stare at the willowy blond woman gracefully floating up the aisle toward the throne. “This woman is not who she says she is. She’s an imposter.”
Jill’s mouth fell open.
Uh-oh. Somehow this regal woman about the same age as herself, only much prettier and more feminine, had discovered the truth about her and Jessie.
Fear and relief simultaneously flooded her.
“I--” she began, but the woman interrupted.
“You’re not Princess Isabella Jane Strovanik.”
Not what she was expecting her to say, but nonetheless true. Jill watched pensively as the woman stepped up to stand between her and Rob. She went on the offensive. “Who are you?”
The blond smiled with graceful elegance, but casted a nervous glance toward where the bachelors sat. “I’m Princess Isabella Jane Strovanik. The real Princess.”
Oh heck. Now what was she supposed to do?
Jill searched the crew for direction. JP had stepped closer to the front of the room, but he offered no guidance. She glanced at Rob. His face was blank, but his eyes had turned to tumultuous molten gold. Neither of the producers seemed surprised.
They’d known about this woman? That she would be here today? Why hadn’t they told her? What was going on?
“Gentlemen, it seems we have a dilemma.” Rob stepped up, seeming to have shaken whatever had caused the turmoil in his eyes earlier. With finesse and an ease that belied the possibility that the interruption hadn’t been planned, he spoke to the cameras and the bachelors. “Which one of these lovely ladies is the real princess? The gorgeous Jane who you’ve spent the last month getting to know or this majestic vision who claims she’s of true royal lineage?”