by Dani Collins
Which was why Jenna’s photographer was in the room with Nataliya now as the stylist Jenna had recommended put the finishing touches on Nataliya’s look.
“You definitely look regal enough to be The Princess of Mirrus, Lady Nataliya,” Jenna teased, using the title she never did when they were alone.
Nataliya had been pleasantly surprised when no one suggested she choose someone with a higher rung on the social ladder than Jenna to be her maid of honor and said so now. “I’m so glad you’re here with me. I’m pretty sure I’d be a bundle of nerves otherwise.”
“I think the fact you are marrying the man of your dreams has more to do with why happiness is overriding nerves, but who am I to say?” Jenna responded with a laugh. “And there never was any chance someone might argue your choice to have me as your only attendant. Your mom and King Hotty put the kibosh on any dissent before you even floated my name to the wedding planner.”
“How do you know that?” Nataliya demanded.
“Because unlike you, my dear friend, I listen to gossip.”
Nataliya just laughed and got ready to promise the rest of her life to serving the people of Mirrus, as their King’s Princess.
* * *
The Russian Orthodox church that hosted the wedding had been built the first decade of Mirrus’ settlement.
The gorgeous structure had been the setting for every wedding in the House of Merikov since. Like Saint Basil’s in Moscow, Mirrus’ cathedral had multicolored rather than gold conical-topped spires, but inside the gold-leafed icons were lavish works of art from another century, and the intricately designed floor tiles breathtaking.
Her gown a replica of the one worn by the first and most beloved Queen of Mirrus in the country’s history trailed behind Nataliya down the center aisle in thirty feet of rustling satin train. The guests filling the church were in a hazy glow, but Nikolai, waiting at the front for her, was in sharp focus.
He looked unutterably handsome in his Head of State military regalia, but even wearing an off-the-rack suit, she knew this man would leave her breathless.
The expression in his steely gray gaze when she joined him at the front of the church was so intense, it sent goose bumps along her arms and made her breath catch.
This man had a plan and she was part of it.
During the procession Nataliya was glad she had practiced negotiating her train or this moment could have been an unmitigated disaster. She was even more relieved that she would be changing into a more modern gown created by a high-end Russian designer before attempting to circulate at the reception later.
She wasn’t thinking about her dress, or her need to stay very still not to mess up the train, when the priest began to speak the words of the age-old ceremony in Russian. He repeated each vow in Ukrainian before Nikolai and Nataliya made their promises.
Her heart pounding in her chest, Nataliya was surprised at how profound the moment felt.
She knew she loved the man she was marrying. Accepted that he did not love her, but she had not considered how bound to him the vows she spoke would make her feel.
She had anticipated the weight of her role as his Princess settling on her, but not this feeling that her heart and her life were irrevocably tied to this man. To a king.
The look in Nikolai’s eyes said he felt a similar level of profundity.
Which perhaps should not have surprised her, but it did.
He kept his promises. Knew she kept hers.
It was a moment of total connection between them.
They were both making commitments they intended to keep. Absolutely.
* * *
As much as Nataliya was not a fan of big gatherings, she put on her game face, smiling until her cheeks ached as she was introduced or reacquainted with the upper echelon of society.
She accepted every good wish on her future happiness with a king with equal warmth, refusing to allow the hundredth thank you be any less sincere than the first.
However, when Jenna sidled up next to her and asked if she was ready to go, Nataliya wanted to shout, Yes!
She couldn’t though. “We’ve got hours yet,” she informed her best friend in an apologetic whisper.
“Not according to your husband, you don’t.”
Nataliya startled and looked around for Nikolai. “What do you mean?”
They’d spent more of the reception together than she had expected, but it would have been impossible to remain at one another’s side throughout the evening.
And now, she couldn’t see him anywhere.
“His Highness sent me to get you.”
“Get me?” Nataliya felt like she wasn’t tracking.
“He said something about a promise he made about your wedding night?” Jenna prompted.
Heat washed into Nataliya’s cheeks. No way was she going to explain that particular promise to even her best friend.
“Where is he?” she asked.
Jenna nodded her head toward the south doors to the palace ballroom. “Come with me.”
Somehow, Jenna, who had not been born to nobility, was negotiating the room like a seasoned campaigner. She had Nataliya in the corridor outside mere minutes later, explaining to anyone who impeded their progress that His Highness needed Princess Nataliya for something.
Unsurprisingly, a security detail waited, but neither of the men said anything as Jenna continued to lead the way to one of the hidden hallways used by the royal family to navigate the palace. Then they were going through a set of thick doors that led to the outside behind the palace where a sleek black limousine waited.
One of the security detail stepped forward to open the door and help Nataliya inside, still silent.
The interior of the limousine was empty but for her cell phone on the seat. She picked it up and settled onto the soft leather. It rang in her hand as she was reaching for the seat belt.
Nikolai’s face flashed on the screen.
She answered. “Really? You changed my ringtone for your calls?”
“I thought it was appropriate.” Amusement warmed his voice.
“Somehow I don’t think of you when I think of modern hip-hop.”
“And yet the song is very appropriate.”
It was a modern ballad by a popular female artist about desire and fidelity. Not a song she would have thought he even knew. “Not exactly subtle.” As all things royal should be.
In a hip-hop song. Who knew?
“You may want to change it later,” he conceded.
And she smiled. He’d made the change as part of this special night.
“Where are you?” Should that have been her first question? Maybe.
“In the SUV in front of you.”
She remembered there being an SUV in front of the limousine and one behind. A quiet cavalcade without the flags of station waving.
“Why there and not here?” she asked.
“You deserve a very special wedding night. Not for our first time together to be in the back of a limousine.” The promise in his voice sent shivers of desire through her.
Nataliya’s hand tightened on the phone. “And if you were here, it would be?” she goaded.
“Of a certainty.”
How was it possible for the sexual intensity between them to be so hot? “Is it always like this?” she wondered aloud.
“No,” he assured her in a growl. “It is not. What we have is uncommon.”
But not love. Not on his side anyway. “Was it like this with your first wife?”
He inhaled, like the question shocked him, but he answered. “At first, something like it, but looking back I realize that it was never this intense. Maybe because Tiana and I didn’t wait.” He paused, like he was thinking. “I don’t know, but as much as I desired her, there was never a time I thought I wouldn’t be able to control mys
elf if I was with her.”
And he felt that way with Nataliya? She couldn’t help liking that, but she didn’t doubt that if she told him no, ever, he would control himself just fine. He meant he didn’t think they could control themselves together.
“Like that first kiss in the garden.” Neither of them had been showing any sort of control then.
“Yes.”
“At first?” she asked. “Will it get less intense?”
“No,” he said without hesitation.
“But you said that with Queen Tiana...” Nataliya allowed her voice to trail off.
He knew what she was talking about.
“What I had with my first wife was different,” he said with certainty. “I was enthralled by her. She used sex to control, to manipulate, but I didn’t realize it until we’d been married more than a year.”
No question he was alone in the back of the SUV with the privacy window up. Just as she was. Or they would not be having such an intimate and revealing conversation.
Nataliya shifted, trying to alleviate the feeling of need that even talking about his dead wife was in no way diminishing. “Even if that’s true, I cannot imagine she wasn’t just as enthralled by you.”
“Because you are.” Nikolai sounded very satisfied by that fact.
“You know I am.”
“We are well matched.”
“Yes.” She could not deny it. Nor could she deny that she wished he was with her, the setting of their first time sharing full intimacy be damned.
“Where are we going?”
“Somewhere we can have that spectacular wedding night you demanded.”
“How long until we get there?”
“Only about forty-five minutes.”
“Did you just say only?” she demanded.
“Relax, kiska, we will be there before you know it. I will keep you entertained.” And he did, telling her his plans for the night ahead.
By the time the limousine stopped, Nataliya was so hot and bothered she couldn’t fumble her seat belt open. When she finally got it, she surged toward the door with no sense of aplomb and even less reticence.
Nikolai was there to take her hand. He practically yanked her from the car and right into his embrace.
“Lost your cool, Your Highness?” she asked him breathlessly as her body pressed against his hardness, her own cool nowhere in evidence.
“Da,” he growled out, reverting to Russian. He told her he wanted her, that she was too beautiful to resist, in the same language. Then he swept her high against his chest.
She gulped in air and tried to regain a little of her equilibrium. “I thought carrying the bride over the threshold was a western tradition.”
He didn’t reply. Didn’t look at her, just focused on covering the distance to the door of the mountain chalet in long, impatient strides.
Something in the corner of her vision caught her eye and Nataliya gasped. “You brought me to a glacier?”
The chalet sat high on a craggy hill overlooking a pristine blue glacier.
“Tomorrow,” he gritted out as the door swung open in front to them.
“Tomorrow, what?”
“Talking.” He acknowledged the woman who had opened to the door with a nod, but no words.
Nataliya gave the older woman a little wave and received a warm, very amused, smile in return.
Nataliya nuzzled into the curve of where his shoulder and neck met. “You’re in kind of a hurry, huh?”
His big body gave a shudder, but he didn’t slow down as he carried her determinedly up the stairs. And then they were in a huge master bedroom, the solid door slamming when he kicked it closed.
She would have teased him about slamming doors, but suddenly that moment was upon her. They were going to make love...have sex. Whatever they called it, Nataliya knew it would change her forever.
Her King made no move to let her go.
Inhaling his delicious masculine scent, she pressed a kiss to his neck, letting her tongue flick out to taste.
Everything inside her tightened, the pleasant throb between her legs she’d had for the last thirty minutes of the drive up the mountain becoming a sensual ache.
With a groan, Nikolai released her and then quickly stepped back, putting distance between them that she did not want.
She moved to follow him, but he put his hands up as if warding her off.
“What?” she demanded.
“You are a virgin.”
“So? Tomorrow, I won’t be.”
“Precisely.” He turned toward the door.
She stood in stunned silence until his hand landed on the handle. “Where are you going?” she demanded.
“You need gentle.”
That was debatable. Nataliya wasn’t feeling gentle right now. She was hot and bothered.
“So?”
“So, I need some time.”
“Why?”
“So I can give you gentle.”
“I don’t want gentle,” she informed him.
He spun to face her. “You think that, but—”
“Stop, right there,” she interrupted. “Be very careful before you try to claim you know more about what I want and need than I do. I am a twenty-eight-year-old woman. I am a virgin by choice, not because the men in my life knew what was best for me and protected poor little old me.”
And being a virgin did not mean she was ignorant about sex, or her own body’s needs.
“You will be a passionate advocate for the rights of women in Mirrus.”
“Right now, I’m not thinking of anyone but us.” She stepped out of her shoes. “Either you respect me enough to let me make my own choices, or you don’t.”
She waited, wondering if she could have misjudged this man and his intentions so badly.
Air filled her lungs in a breath of relief as his hand dropped from the doorknob. “It is a matter of physical necessity, not believing I know your body better than you do.”
It so was, but she could forgive him because he wasn’t in possession of all the facts.
“I have toys,” she told him baldly.
“What?” He stumbled back, like her words profoundly shocked him.
“I am a twenty-eight-year-old woman. If you have a fantasy of a naive virgin in your bed, we can play that scenario out sometime, but right now I just want you.”
“What kind of toys?”
She rolled her eyes. “I’ll show them to you sometime. Maybe you’ll want to use them with me, but not tonight.”
His already dark eyes flared with heated desire. “No. Not tonight.”
Done with the waiting. Done with any delays, Nataliya reached behind her back and pulled the zip down on the designer dress she’d changed into for the reception.
He didn’t ask what she was doing, or make any more sweet but inane comments about how she needed gentleness when Nataliya was so hot she thought she might combust if he didn’t get inside her soon.
Nikolai stripped with more speed than finesse, baring his gorgeous body to Nataliya’s eyes.
He was beyond fit. Muscles bulged on his biceps and chest, usually hidden by the formal attire of a king, his sculpted thighs showing why he’d found carrying her up the stairs so easy.
She let out a pent-up breath, her own dress a pool around her feet. “You are beautiful.”
“I believe those are my words to you.”
Her throat had gone dry and she couldn’t reply with a witticism, just shook her head. He was everything she could have imagined wanting in an intimate partner.
She didn’t need physical perfection, but it was standing right in front of her and she had no more words to tell him how turned on he made her.
The sight of his masculine body finished what his words on the phone had started and sh
e wanted. She needed.
She went to shove her panties down her legs, but he was there just that quickly. His hands over hers. “Let me.”
She nodded, her own hands sliding out from under his to press against his sculpted chest. She circled the eraser-hard nubs of his nipples, brushed her fingertips over them just as he undid the catch on her bra, releasing her breasts. Her already turgid nipples tightened as they were exposed to the air.
They both gasped.
He cupped her breasts, swiping his thumb over the hardened peaks. “You fit my hands too perfectly.”
She moaned at the sensation coursing through her, but passivity was not on her agenda. Nataliya leaned forward and took one of his small male nipples delicately between her teeth, gratified by the groan of pleasure that came from her royal husband.
She’d read that some men loved having their nipples played with, some didn’t like it, and some didn’t care either way, but it did nothing for them. She was glad he was of the first type. She liked getting the kind of reaction she was getting from him.
His impressive erection jutted out insistently from his body, the head brushing against her skin and exciting her even more.
The years she’d fantasized about this man were nothing compared to the reality of having the freedom to touch as she pleased and the knowledge he wanted to do the same to her.
She kissed a trail upward until their mouths met again; all the while his hands were busy pulling sensual pleasure from her body with knowing touches to her breasts.
Without breaking the kiss, he pushed her panties down her thighs. He waited for her to step out of them and then dropped to his knees to brush her thigh-high stockings down with caresses along her inner thighs, then pulled them from her feet with sensual mastery.
This man understood a woman’s body and how to give intense pleasure.
Nikolai shifted back just a little and then looked his fill at her now naked body. “Krasiva.”
“I thought that was my word for you,” she said breathlessly, her knees threatening to buckle.
“You said it in English.”
She would have laughed, but he ran a probing finger between the folds of her most intimate flesh. A strangled sound came out of Nataliya as she was touched so very intimately.