Crowned By The Mountain Prince: An Arranged Marriage Romance

by Frankie Love

  I look over at her and see soft pearl earrings in her earlobes. I smile at the subtle sweetness she exudes. Her hands are folded in her lap; her ankles are crossed. She’s wearing a dress that reminds me of another era. Perhaps my princess is from another time altogether.

  “The drive is about an hour. As you can see, the mountain ridges are quite expansive. It’s too difficult to land the plane near the palace. It’s perched upon a mountain, and it’s impossible to get there without a helicopter.”

  “I saw pictures of it on the internet,” she says, “but Rochester looks so beautiful in person. Quite different from the palace I grew up in.” Dalia’s eyes are focused out the window, on the mountains we speak of. She mentioned the internet, and for a moment I pause, wondering if she recognized my face. But she doesn’t give any hint of knowing me.

  “And the prince, have you spoken to him?” I ask, fishing to see what she might exaggerate, trying to find a reason to think she’s anything but perfection.

  “No,” she says softly, shaking her head. “I haven’t, but my father has.”

  She doesn’t reveal any more, and her ability to withhold gossip is appealing. I’d be lying if I said she hasn’t immediately captured my attention.

  She fell into my arms, and I felt my heart expand.

  Is that a ridiculous statement? Probably. Still, it gives me hope, and right now that’s all I want: hope that this marriage I’m about to commit to for the rest of my life won’t be a complete disaster.

  “Was the flight good?” I ask her, and immediately wonder why I asked her such a mundane question. I want to know her hopes and dreams, her fears and her failures. I want to know her drive. I want to know what she loves, what she wants to contribute to the greater world, and what she wants to experience.

  Of course, questions like that would be highly inappropriate for a bodyguard named Thomas to be asking the Princess. So I stick to safe questions.

  “It was ... all right. Honestly, though, I would be perfectly fine with never riding in a plane again for the rest of my days. Of course, I want to visit Elexia, but ... I don’t know. It was a little frightening, to be honest. It was my first time on an airplane.”

  “But your sisters? They recently married and moved to other countries. Do you have any desire to visit them?”

  Dahlia swivels her head from the window to meet my gaze, and for a moment our eyes me. I’m unable to stop a smile from spreading across my face.

  Dahlia smiles back at me. “I honestly didn’t know what to expect of anyone here. It’s so different from home. Honestly, I’m a little nervous about it all.” Her words trail off, and she looks out the window as she collects her thoughts. “But to answer your question, yes, of course I would like to visit my sisters. They’re my best friends, and we’ve never been apart before.”

  My jaw tenses as I drive through the snow. It’s falling faster, and I need to focus. Still, my mind is running a million miles a minute—wondering if I made a grave error, pretending to be someone I’m not.

  Right now would be the perfect moment to stop the SUV, pull Dahlia into my arms, and tell her we can go visit her sisters anytime she desires, or we can fly them here night or day.

  Of course, as Thomas I can’t say those things. So, instead, I nod and keep my eyes on the road.

  “I’m an only child myself,” I tell her. “Much like Prince Lucas. I always wanted siblings.”

  “Yes, I couldn’t imagine growing up alone. My sisters and I are as different as three sisters could be, but we share a bond that can’t be broken even though we are scattered across the world.”

  The car is silent for a moment, with her probably thinking of her past, and me thinking of getting back to the castle, changing into my dinner clothes, and telling her who I really am. Barely fifteen minutes into the drive, and I already feel like this was a mistake.

  “Thomas,” she says, reaching for my arm as if it was the most natural thing in the world to come to me for assurance.

  I hate to admit it, but it feels pretty fucking natural to me, too. We’ve known one another less than an hour, and all I want is to show her she’s mine— to show her I’ll be the prince she deserves.

  “It’s snowing quite hard. Are the roads safe?” Dalia points toward the cliff ahead. She’s right. The road leading toward the palace is a snow-blur.

  “Fuck,” I say, shaking my head. The tires are spinning and I’m not sure we’re going to be able to drive much further. “Excuse me. That was inappropriate. It’s just that you’re right; that’s a lot of snow.”

  “Is it safe to drive?”

  “Let’s keep going. I’m sure we can make it back to the castle before the storm hits.” All I can think is that I’ve got to get us home. If this storm stops us, we’re stuck in the middle of nowhere.

  “I hope so.” Dalia looks at me nervously. “I really want to meet my prince.”

  7

  The snow falls hard.

  What started as a slight flurry when I disembarked from the plane has turned into a full-on storm. The sky is covered with a thick sheet of white, and the windshield wipers whip violently, working in overdrive. I bite my bottom lip, not knowing how to help the situation.

  Thomas’s hands grip the wheel tight, and he’s steering the vehicle with agile movements. I may have never spent time in the snow, but it’s obvious that navigating it takes a lot of care and precision.

  “I’ve been through a lot of hurricanes,” I tell him. “But this? I’ve never seen snow before.”

  “This snowstorm came out of nowhere.”

  I instinctively wrap my hand around the door handle, bracing myself as the tires skid on the road. I glance at Thomas, and his eyes are set on the road, concentrating. He has command of the vehicle, but we can hardly see three feet in front of us.

  “I’m going to keep driving as long as we can. There’s no phone reception on this part of the mountain, so if we get stuck it might be a while.”

  “Do you think that might happen?” Just as I ask, the SUV slides, and crashes into a snow bank on the side of the narrow road.

  My heart races, and Thomas reaches for me, his eyes full of concern. “Princess, are you all right? Are you scared?” His hand is on my knee, pulling me toward him.

  I tell him the truth: “I’m not scared because you’re with me.”

  He leans toward me, and for a second I have the irrational idea that he is going to kiss me. And, even more irrational, I want him to. He makes me feel so safe, and right now that’s what my body craves. Needs.

  But then he tucks a loose strand of hair behind my ear and leans away, and I remember to breathe.

  “I need to check the damage,” he says as he tries to open his door. It won’t budge; it’s against the snow bank and isn’t giving an inch.

  I look out the passenger window. My door isn’t obstructed at all, so I push it open and step out of the car. My feet immediately sink into the deep snow.

  “Is there always this much snow in Rochester?” I ask.

  Thomas crawls over my seat to get out of the vehicle. “Usually, yes,” he says as he jumps out of the car. “In the high summer months there’s less, but there’s always snow on the ground. You have to go much lower, to the base of the mountain, to see the green valley in the summer. It’s beautiful—but a different sort of beauty, for sure.”

  “There are lots of definitions for beauty, aren’t there?” I ask him. I’m thinking that this bodyguard is perhaps the most unexpected type of beauty I’ve ever seen. His beard is rugged and rough. His eyes are bright like the mountains, his shoulders strong, and his arms capable. Everything about him screams Man.

  It makes my body scream too.

  Okay, not scream; I’m really not a screamer.

  But melt? Yes.

  There’s plenty of panty-melting happening with every glance, every touch, every word.

  “You’re going to freeze, Princess,” he says, lifting me out of the snow by my waist and setting me
back in the SUV. “Your feet must be frozen?”

  “Not yet. I’m tough.”

  “Oh, yeah?” he asks, cocking an eye at me as if he doesn’t believe a word I say.

  “It’s true. I always do the dirty work at the castle.”

  “Dirty work isn’t the same as being tough,” Thomas counters.

  “Oh, yes it is. If you’re not tough, you can’t handle the dirty work.”

  “And what dirty work do they make you do, Princess?” Thomas asks as he reaches behind my seat and procures a blanket. Setting it on my lap, he goes the extra mile, unfolds it, and wraps it around my soaking wet feet.

  “I do the cleaning, the washing, the mending. The cooking and the baking.” I smirk at his shocked expression. “What, you think all princesses do is sit around eating bonbons all day?”

  “I have no idea what princesses do, I’m an only child, remember?”

  I laugh. “Well, even if you weren’t, your sister wouldn’t be a princess.”

  Thomas narrows his eyes at me and I feel my cheeks flush, realizing that sounded rude.

  “I’m sorry. That wasn’t called for.” I smile, wishing for a rewind button. “Of course your sister would be a princess. All girls are, aren’t they?”

  “Something like that,” he says quietly. He reaches under my seat and grabs a radio. “I’ll see if I can get this to work.”

  Then he walks around the front of the car, assessing what he might be able to do to get us out of this mess.

  As he’s on the radio, I scope out my surroundings. There are evergreen trees around us, the holly I read about dripping from bushes, and white snow positively everywhere.

  My eyes work overtime. Everything is so new, so different. I see a deer running through the trees, with a smaller deer trailing behind. A flock of birds takes flight from a tree branch, and when they do, I see something in the distance.

  Something that gives me hope.

  When Thomas comes back around, he has a sour look on his face.

  “Sorry, I can’t get the car out alone. I need help and I don’t think I’ll be finding it here.”

  “Did you radio for help?”

  “I tried, but can’t get a signal. I’m going to have to hike a bit to get somewhere that the forest is less dense.”

  I smile. Well, beam really.

  “What are you grinning for?” he asks. “You do realize we’re stuck in the middle of nowhere, in the freezing cold?”

  “True, but I know what would help.”

  “You do?” His jaw tightens, and for a moment, I feel as if I can read his mind—as if I know exactly what would help.

  And it has nothing to do with a tow truck, and everything to do with his hands on my body, warming us both up.

  I blink, because that won’t help anything. In fact, those notions will only mess up everything.

  “A cabin, straight ahead,” I tell him, pointing at the chalet tucked away on the mountain, barely visible from the road unless you were craning your neck—unless a flock of birds took flight.

  Unless you needed it to appear, magically.

  Thomas’s eyes light up. He claps his hands. “Princess, you are something else.”

  Then he flings me over his shoulder, my ass inches from his face.

  “Thomas,” I laugh. “Put me down.”

  “No way in hell, Princess. Not in those heels.”

  I let him carry me through the woods, more grateful that I chose to wear these shoes than I’d ever admit.

  These shoes are what got me in Thomas’s arms ... which is exactly where I want to be.

  8

  The snow falls, whirling around us, but I have a tight hold on my princess. There’s no way in hell I’m letting her go.

  With her flung over my shoulder, I traipse through the woods toward an unmarked cabin I’ve never seen before, off the beaten path and burrowed deep. I don’t see any smoke from the chimney, but hope like hell I’m just missing something, that there’s someone here who can help me get my Land Rover out of the snowbank.

  I radioed the palace, telling Thomas what had happened. He was concerned—with reason—but agreed to wait to send backup until I assessed the situation a bit more.

  He asked about Dahlia, but I blamed my lack of answer on a fuzzy radio connection. He laughed as I ended the call, and I couldn’t help but smile myself. After one conversation where sincerity dripped from every word she spoke, all I wanted was to warm Dahlia up—in more ways then one.

  “It’s so cold,” she says, rubbing her hands together as I set her down on the cabin’s front steps.

  “I know, sweetheart.” Realizing my mistake, I cough and look down. Damn it, though—I want to be affectionate with her. She brings out this protective desire in me. I want to take care of her and scoop her back up in my arms. I want to carry her over the threshold and start our life together right here, right now.

  “Thomas,” she says, her doe eyes looking up at me, her breath frosty in the air. “Do you have a sweetheart? Back at the castle?”

  I must look quizzical, because she follows up quickly: “It’s just, sometimes when people slip up like that, with words of affection, it’s because they’re so used to using the endearment....”

  I want to make my intentions clear. Sure, I want to play the part of a bodyguard to see if she likes me for me, but I am not going to let this woman stand here thinking she has anything besides my complete devotion.

  I pull her close, and the way she’s perched on the steps, her mouth is so close to mine. Her hair whips in the wind, and I pull her closer still. With her body so near me, my cock grows fierce.

  I want her nearer still.

  “There’s no one else,” I tell her. And then I pull her mouth to mine, not wanting another moment to pass before I feel her lips. Her tongue slips past my lips and her tongue entwines with mine. I squeeze her waist, loving that she isn’t withdrawing from this moment. She’s all-in.

  We kiss as the snow falls across our faces and melts on our noses. Her arms wrap around my neck as if this kiss is her lifeline and she’s hanging on for dear life.

  I’ve caught her once; there’s no chance in hell I’ll let her fall again.

  Eventually, we pull apart. She closes her eyes, shakes her head.

  “You must think I’m crazy,” she whispers. “That was so out of line.”

  “But you liked it, didn’t you, Princess?”

  “I loved it.”

  I adjust my growing cock, and she looks down, eyeing my bulge.

  I shrug. “That’s all for you.”

  “All mine?”

  I raise an eye, genuinely surprised at this woman who landed here in Rochester just for me. How did I get so damn lucky? “You want it?”

  “I can’t.” She covers her mouth with her knuckles, as if the realization of what she just did is dawning on her. “I’m marrying the prince.”

  “Of course,” I say, nodding. “Let me see if anyone is here to help us.”

  I step past her, knocking on the door. There isn’t a barking dog or a warm glow in the form of a fire. The tiny cabin appears empty. I walk around the perimeter, my boots sinking into the deep snow, and quickly assess that no one has shoveled out the place for weeks. There’s no car here, and no trash in the garbage can.

  “It’s empty.” I lean over by the front door, and lift a rock under the covered porch. I look up at Dahlia, smiling. “They left us a key.”

  I pull it out, revealing the silver answer to our prayers. I need to get this girl inside. She’s positively frozen—her swollen lips are turning blue—and I can’t have her get frostbite before her wedding.

  “Lucky us,” she says, as I turn the key in the lock.

  I take her hand so she doesn’t slip in those heels, and the moment we walk through the door I exhale.

  “Thank god this isn’t some creepy place,” I say.

  “Are you sure it’s okay we’re here?” she asks as I quickly take a look around. It’s a small, one
-bedroom cabin with a kitchenette and living room, complete with a fireplace and rocking chair. It’s clean, tidy, and empty.

  “Of course, I’m the prince—” I begin, then cover quickly. “The prince’s bodyguard. Ensuring the safety of his bride-to-be.”

  “Right,” she says. “His bride-to-be.” She presses her palm to her cheek. “That is what I am, aren’t I?”

  “Do you not want to marry him?” I ask, locking the door behind us.

  “I want ... actually, I don’t think what I want really matters.”

  “Sure it does,” I tell her, scouting out the kitchen. I’m starving. The royal banquet will be starting any moment, and I haven’t eaten in hours.

  But then I turn my eyes back to Dahlia and I forget all about food.

  She’s the only thing I want tonight.

  “No, it really doesn’t, Thomas. I’m a princess. And for me, marriage is about duty, honor. Making my family proud.”

  “And your happiness? Where does that come in?” I move to the fireplace and open the chute, add a few logs and kindling, and strike a match. The flame catches quickly.

  Just like I caught Dahlia.

  I’m burning for her, bright.

  “Well, not in a traditional sense.” Her lips turn in a wistful sigh. “I mean, I know I’ll be a loyal wife ... but….”

  “But what?” I step toward her, wanting her arms around my neck again, wanting to hear her admit that she wants to be close to me, a lowly bodyguard, because she’s drawn to me.

  Not because of duty.

  Having sex on my wedding night out of obligation sounds like hell. I want a lover who finds me irresistible—royal arrangement or not.

  And I want that for Dahlia, too.

  “I’ve always had this fantasy,” she admits. She covers her face with her hands. “I can’t believe I’m saying this.”

  “Keep going, sweetheart,” I tell her, wrapping my arms around her waist again.

  She lowers her hands, her eyes on me. “Since my marriage was never going to be about true love—never be about anything besides an arrangement—I told myself that if I ever had the chance to be....”