A Night in the Prince's Bed

by Chantelle Shaw - A Night in the Prince's Bed

  Aksel knew as soon as he spoke that he was being unfair. The real blame lay with him. God knew what he had been thinking of when he had invited Mina to his hotel last night. The truth was he hadn’t been thinking at all. He had been bewitched by a green-eyed sorceress and risked his reputation and the support of the Storvhalian people to satisfy his sexual desire for a woman whose own reputation, it turned out, was hardly without blemish.

  Mina blanched as she read Aksel’s lips. How dared he judge her based on what he had read about her in the newspapers? Good grief, she had only ever had one sexual relationship—two if she counted Aksel, she amended. But one night in his bed did not constitute a relationship—as he seemed determined to make clear. The unfairness brought tears to her eyes.

  ‘At the risk of repeating myself, I didn’t tell the press about us,’ she said tautly. ‘I discovered from bitter experience that the paparazzi prefer to print scandal and lies than the truth.’

  Even with her talent for acting, could she really sound so convincing if she was lying? Aksel wondered. He had found the newspaper article about her affair with a married film director distasteful, but, hell, the paparazzi could make a vicar’s tea party sound sordid.

  Glimpsing the shimmer of her tears made him feel even more of a bastard than he’d felt when he had stopped making love to her. He wanted to look away before he drowned in her deep green eyes, but he forced himself to remain facing her so that she could watch his lips when he spoke.

  ‘You should get some sleep. As soon as there’s a break in the weather I want to get us off the mountain, and that might mean I’ll have to wake you early in the morning. Put another log on the fire before you get into bed and you should be warm enough.’

  ‘What about you?’ Mina stopped him as he went to walk out of the room. ‘Where are you going to sleep?’

  ‘I’ll make up a bed on the sofa in the living room.’

  ‘I feel bad that I’ve taken your bed.’ She hesitated, and glanced at the huge wooden-framed bed. ‘It’s a big bed and I don’t mind sharing.’

  ‘But I do.’

  His glinting gaze made Mina feel sure he was mocking her. She flushed. ‘Don’t worry. I’d keep to my side of the mattress.’

  He turned his head away, but not before her sharp eyes read the words on his lips that he had spoken to himself. ‘I wish I could be certain that I could keep my hands off you, my green-eyed temptress.’

  Mina felt confused as she watched him walk into the living room and pick up the bottle of fiery liqueur akevitt before he sprawled on the rug in front of the fire. She had not imagined the feral hunger in his eyes. But Aksel believed that he must put his duty to Storvhal above his personal desires. Perhaps that explained the aching loneliness she had glimpsed, before his lashes had swept down and hidden his expression, she mused as she climbed into the big bed and huddled beneath the covers.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  THE FLAMES IN the hearth were leaping high into the chimney when Mina woke. The fire had burned down to embers during the night and she guessed that Aksel had thrown on more logs while she was sleeping. She slid out of bed and pulled back the curtains. It was not snowing at the moment, but the towering grey clouds looked ominous and Aksel’s warning that they could be trapped at the cabin for days seemed entirely possible.

  Although her watch showed that it was nine a.m. it was barely light. By the end of the month it would be polar night and the sun would not rise above the horizon until next year. The land was an Arctic wilderness: remote, beautiful and icy cold—a description that equally fitted the Prince of Storvhal, Mina thought ruefully.

  A movement caught her attention, and she turned her head to see Aksel at the side of the house chopping logs with an axe. Despite the freezing temperature he was only dressed in jeans and a sweater. He paused for a moment to push his blond hair out of his eyes, and Mina’s heart-rate quickened as she studied his powerful body. There was not an ounce of spare flesh on his lean hips, and his thigh muscles rippled beneath his jeans as he dropped the axe and gathered up an armful of logs.

  Mina often rued her impulsive nature, but she could not resist opening the window and scooping up a handful of snow from the ledge. She took aim, and the snowball landed between Aksel’s shoulder blades. He jerked upright, and she guessed he shouted something, but he was too far away for her to be able to read his lips. He must have heard her slam the window shut because he spun round and his startled expression brought a smile to her lips. It was heartening to know that he might be a prince but he was also a human being.

  Having not brought any spare clothes with her, she had no alternative but to put on Aksel’s shirt that he had taken off when he had started to make love to her the previous night. The shirt came to midway down her thighs and, feeling reassured that she was at least half decently covered, she made a quick exploration of the cabin. She entered the large kitchen at the same moment that Aksel walked in through the back door, and stopped dead when she saw a snowball in his hands and a determined gleam in his eyes.

  ‘No...!’ She dodged too late and gave a yelp as the snowball landed in the centre of her chest. ‘Don’t you dare...!’ Face alight with laughter, she backed away from him, her eyes widening when she saw he was holding a second snowball. She raced around the table but he caught her easily and grinned wickedly as he shoved snow down the front of her shirt.

  ‘Oh...that’s cold.’ She gasped as the melting snow trickled down her breasts.

  He slid his hand beneath her chin and tilted her face so that she could watch him speak. Amusement warmed his ice-blue eyes. ‘You asked for it, angel.’

  ‘That wasn’t fair to bring snow into the house. Don’t you know the rules of snowball fights?’

  He shook his head. ‘I’ve never had a snowball fight.’

  ‘Never?’ Mina stared out of the window at the snowy landscape. ‘But you live in a land of snow and ice. When you were a child you must have had snowball fights with the other kids at school, and surely you built snowmen?’

  ‘I didn’t go to school, and I rarely played with other children.’

  She could not hide her surprise. ‘That’s...sad. I know you are a prince, but in England the children of the royal family are educated at school. Didn’t your parents think it was important for you to mix with other children of your own age?’

  Aksel’s smile faded at Mina’s curiosity. ‘My grandmother supervised my upbringing because my parents were busy with their own lives. I was taught by excellent tutors at the palace until I went to university when I was eighteen.’

  The few years he had spent in England at Cambridge University had been the happiest of his life, Aksel thought to himself. He had enjoyed socialising with the other students who came from different backgrounds, and he had loved the sense of freedom and being able to lead a normal life away from the protocol of the palace. Even the press had left him alone, but that had all changed when his father had died and the new Prince of Storvhal had been thrust into the public spotlight.

  Mina recalled something the taxi driver had told her. ‘I heard that your mother is Russian, but the people of Storvhal didn’t approve of your father’s choice of bride.’

  ‘Historically there was often tension between my country and Russia. Seventy years ago my grandfather signed a treaty with Norway, which means that the principality of Storvhal is protected by the Norwegian military.’

  Aksel shrugged. ‘It is true that my father’s marriage to my mother was not popular, particularly as my mother made it plain that she disliked Storvhal and preferred to be in Moscow. I grew up at the palace with my grandmother. My father spent most of his time with his many mistresses in the French Riviera, and I did not see either of my parents very often.’

  Aksel’s explanation that his grandmother had ‘supervised’ his upbringing gave Mina the impression that his childhood had been lacking love and affection. She pictured him as a solemn-faced little boy playing on his own in the vast royal palace.

&n
bsp; ‘You said you have a sister.’ She remembered he had mentioned a sibling.

  ‘Linne is ten years younger than me, and she lived mainly with my mother. We were not close as children, although we have a good relationship now.’

  ‘Does your sister live at the palace?’

  ‘Sometimes, but at the moment she is on an Arctic research ship in Alaska. Linne is a glaciologist, which is the subject I studied at university before I had to return to Storvhal to rule the country.’

  Although Mina could not hear Aksel’s tone of voice, years of experience at lip-reading had given her a special understanding of body language and she glimpsed a hint of regret in his eyes. ‘Do you wish you were a scientist rather than a prince?’ she asked intuitively.

  His expression became unreadable. ‘It does not matter what I wish for. It was my destiny to be a prince and it is my duty to rule to the best of my ability.’

  Mina nodded thoughtfully. ‘I think you must have had a lonely childhood. I know what that feels like. My parents decided to send me to a mainstream school where I was the only deaf child, and I always felt apart from the other children because I was different. My sister was the only person who really understood how I struggled to fit in with my peers.’ She gave a rueful smile. ‘I don’t know how I would have managed without Darcey. She was my best friend and my protector against the other kids who used to call me dumb because I was shy of speaking.’

  Aksel gave her a puzzled look. ‘In that case, why did you choose to become an actress?’

  ‘All my family are actors. My father is often called the greatest Shakespearean actor of all times, but my mother is also amazingly talented. Performing in front of an audience is in my blood and I decided that I wasn’t going to allow my loss of hearing to alter who I am or affect my choice of career.’

  Mina sighed. ‘I suppose I was determined to prove to my father that I could be a good actress despite being deaf. Dad was supportive, but I know he doubted that I would be able to go on the stage. I wanted to make him proud of me. But at the moment, he’s furious,’ she said ruefully, remembering Joshua Hart’s explosive temper when she had met him at the Globe Theatre after she had spent the night with Aksel.

  ‘Why is your father angry with you?’ Why the hell did he care? Aksel asked himself impatiently. He told himself he did not want to hear about Mina’s life, but he could not dismiss the image of her as a little girl, struggling to cope with her hearing impairment and feeling ostracised by the other pupils at school. He was glad her sister had stood up for her.

  ‘Joshua was not impressed to see a photograph of me with a prince, and details about my supposed love-life, splashed across the front pages of the newspapers. I am his daughter and the lead actress in his production of Romeo and Juliet, and he feels that any sort of scandal will reflect badly on the Hart family and on the play.’ She bit her lip. ‘He accused me of turning Shakespeare into a soap opera.’

  Aksel frowned. ‘Surely you told him it was not your fault that you were snapped by the paparazzi?’

  ‘Of course I did—but like you he didn’t believe me,’ Mina said drily.

  Aksel’s jaw clenched. He felt an inexplicable anger with Mina’s father and wanted to confront Joshua Hart and tell him that he should be supportive of his beautiful and talented daughter, who had faced huge challenges after she had lost her hearing, with immense courage.

  He stared at Mina and felt a fierce rush of desire at the sight of her wet shirt—his shirt—clinging to her breasts. The melting snowball had caused her nipples to stand erect and he could see the hard tips and the dark pink aureoles jutting beneath the fine cotton shirt.

  Helvete! She had thrown what he had planned to be a peaceful weekend into turmoil and the sooner he could take her back down the mountain, the better for his peace of mind.

  ‘Linne left some spare clothes in the wardrobe. Help yourself to what you need. There’s plenty of hot water if you want a shower, and food in the larder, if you’re hungry.’ He grabbed his jacket. ‘I’m going for a walk.’

  ‘Do you think that’s a good idea? It’s snowing again.’

  Aksel followed her gaze to the window and saw swirling white snowflakes falling from the sky. This was the last time he would come to the cabin before winter set in and he might not get another chance to visit his son’s grave. He could not explain to Mina that sometimes he craved the solitude of the mountains.

  ‘I won’t be long,’ he told her, and quickly turned away from her haunting deep green gaze.

  * * *

  The pair of jeans and a thick woollen jumper belonging to Aksel’s sister that she found in the wardrobe fitted Mina perfectly. With no hairdrier, she had to leave her hair to dry into natural loose waves rather than the sleek style she preferred. The only item of make-up she kept in her handbag was a tube of lip gloss. She wondered ruefully if Aksel liked the fresh-faced, girl-next-door look, and reminded herself that it did not matter what she looked like because he had made it quite clear that he regretted sleeping with her and had no intention of doing so again.

  Returning to the kitchen, she found rye bread, cheese and ham in the larder. There was no electricity at the cabin to power a fridge, but the walk-in larder was as cold as a freezer. She could see no sign of Aksel when she peered through the window that was half covered by ice. His footprints had long since been obliterated by the falling snow and in every direction stretched a barren, white wasteland.

  It was more than two hours later when she spotted him striding towards the cabin through snow that reached to his mid-thighs. He stripped out of his snowsuit and boots in the cloakroom and came into the kitchen shaking snow out of his hair. Mina could not control her accelerated heart-rate as she skimmed her eyes over his grey wool sweater that clung to his broad shoulders and chest. His rugged masculinity evoked a sharp tug of desire in the pit of her stomach, but when she studied his face she almost gasped out loud at the bleak expression in his eyes. She wanted to ask him what was wrong—why did he look so tormented? But before she could say anything, he walked over to the larder and took out a bottle of akevitt, which he opened, and poured a liberal amount of the straw-coloured liqueur into a glass.

  She glanced at the kettle on the gas stove. ‘I was going to make coffee. Do you want some to warm you up?’

  He dropped into a chair opposite her at the table so that she could see his face. His mouth curved into a cynical smile as he lifted his glass. ‘This warms my blood better than coffee.’

  Mina bit her lip. ‘You were gone for a long time. I was starting to worry that something had happened to you.’ When he raised his brows, she said quickly, ‘You said there are wolves around here.’

  ‘Wolves don’t attack humans. In fact they very sensibly try to avoid them. I’ve been coming to the cabin since I was a teenager, and I know these mountains well.’

  ‘Why do you come to such a remote place?’

  He shrugged. ‘It’s the one place I can be alone, to think.’

  ‘And drink.’ Mina watched him take a long swig of the strong spirit, and glanced at the empty liqueur bottle on the draining board that he must have finished last night. ‘Drinking alone is a dangerous habit.’ She gave him a thoughtful look. ‘What are you trying to forget?’

  ‘Nothing.’ He stood up abruptly and his chair fell backwards and clattered on the wooden floorboards. ‘I come to the cabin for some peace and quiet, but clearly I’m not going to get either with you asking endless questions.’

  As she watched him stride out of the room Mina wondered what raw nerve she had touched that had made him react so violently. Aksel gave the impression of being coldly unemotional, but beneath the surface he was a complex man, and she sensed that his emotions ran deep. Had something happened in his past that had caused him to withdraw into himself?

  He strode back into the kitchen and leaned over her, capturing her chin in his hand and tilting her head up so she was forced to watch his mouth when he spoke. ‘What makes you think you’re
a damn psychologist?’

  ‘Actually, I have studied psychology, and I am a qualified drama therapist.’

  Aksel stared into Mina’s eyes and felt his anger drain out of him. She had come too close to the truth for comfort when she had suggested that he drank alcohol as a means of trying to block out the past. It wasn’t that he wanted to forget Finn—never that. But sometimes the only way he could cope with the guilt that haunted him was to anaesthetise his pain with alcohol.

  He frowned. ‘What the hell is a drama therapist?’

  ‘Drama therapy is a form of psychological therapy. Drama therapists use drama and theatre techniques to help clients with a wide range of emotional problems, from adults suffering from dementia through to children who have experienced psychological trauma.’ Mina was unaware that her voice became increasingly enthusiastic as she explained about drama therapy, which was a subject close to her heart. ‘In my role as a drama therapist, I use stories, role-play, improvisation and puppets—a whole range of artistic devices to enable children to explore difficult and painful life experiences.’

  Aksel was curious, despite telling himself that he did not want to become involved with Mina. ‘How do you combine being a drama therapist with your acting career?’

  ‘I managed to fit acting work around my drama therapy training, but now that I am a fully qualified therapist I’ve been thinking about leaving acting to concentrate on a full-time career as a drama therapist.

  ‘I love the stage. I’m a Hart and performing is in my blood. My father would be disappointed if I gave up acting,’ Mina admitted. ‘But I had been thinking for a while that I would like to do something more meaningful with my life. My sister Darcey trained as a speech therapist after seeing how vital speech therapy was for me when I became deaf. Being ill with meningitis when I was a child and losing my hearing was hugely traumatic. I feel that my experiences have given me an empathy with children who have suffered emotional and physical trauma.