by Bonnie Dee
But she was content and relaxed and clearly enjoying the period drama about star-crossed lovers, so he leaned back into the pillows and simply watched her.
It was good to see her distracted from her own grief, even if just for a little while. He’d never doubted the grief was real, whatever her impossible fantasy. Uneasily, he remembered the castle vegetation that had seemed to spring across their path far too continuously for chance.
Joel shivered. He was being infected by Aurora’s madness. But what the hell was going on with her? She’d suffered no obvious injury. There was no clear reason to account for her memory loss or her very peculiar fantasy. It wasn’t even a fantasy that brought her any joy. Perhaps she’d always been crazy.
Fresh unease twisted through him. She didn’t appear mad. In fact, she was disturbingly sweet and vulnerable and sexy…and he couldn’t deny he’d felt as threatened as she did up at the castle this morning, however silly that seemed now he was back in civilization.
A burst of music from the television heralded the roll of credits. Aurora’s head snapped round to him in indignation.
“What’s happening, now? Where have the people gone?” she demanded.
“The program’s finished,” Joel explained.
“It can’t be! That woman has just discovered her long lost son is still alive, and the man with the ridiculous name wants to kill himself because the beautiful, blond girl is marrying someone else! What will happen to them?”
“You’ll find out next week,” Joel said hastily, sliding off the bed to escape the furious accusation in her eyes. “When the next episode is on.”
She frowned. “Truly?”
“Truly. Now, shall we order some food? What would you like to eat?” Grabbing the room service menu from the table, he dropped it into her lap.
Discussing the food was fine; waiting for it to be delivered while flicking around the television channels was fine too. Only when it had arrived and they spread it between them on the bed like a picnic did the shadow fall back over her face.
Joel couldn’t help reaching out and touching her pale, scratched cheek. “It’ll be all right,” he said gently.
But instead of cheering her, his kindness made her eyes fill. “Will it?” she whispered. “How?”
“I don’t know,” Joel admitted, dunking a piece of bread in the tasty stew. “But we’ll work something out.” Since she continued to gaze at him with expectation, he was forced to admit that the time for soothing platitudes had passed. He gave her a lopsided smile. “We have to decide what to do next. And for the first time in years, I haven’t a clue what that should be.”
To his relief, she smiled back, just a little wanly. “I’m not your responsibility, Joel. I know you want to get back to your own life.”
“Actually, I don’t yet. Eat up.”
Obediently, she took a wary forkful, then, looking slightly surprised by its goodness, she reached for another. “Why not?” she asked.
“I’m on holiday, taking time off.”
“Oh, yes. You said you have some things to think about. Like what?”
“Like what’s the right thing to do next.” He broke off, his bread poised in mid-air as he was struck by the parallel between his problem and Aurora’s. He was uncharacteristically indecisive about both.
“About what?” Aurora pursued. “Your business?”
“Oh, no. I always know what to do about that. It’s thriving, expanding all over the world. I barely need to do anything with it now. I’ve achieved every success I can. I can almost sit back and just watch it grow.”
She gave him a surprisingly shrewd glance over her glass of mineral water. “But you don’t want to do that. You’d be bored.”
“I’m told there’s more to life than business.”
She nodded. “Home and children.” She repeated it like a well-learned lesson. According to her fantasy, that was to have been her fate. As a princess she would’ve been educated for only that purpose. A royal home, of course, but it wasn’t so very different from what many women fantasized about. Not Vee, of course, who’d made it clear she was interested only in a mutually beneficial business arrangement.
“Partly,” he said uncomfortably. “And there is politics.”
She frowned. “Politics?”
“Government. I have a—friend who runs a promotion company. They publicize and promote lots of different things to the public, but Vee, my friend, specializes in political promotions. She’s suggested I stand for election to the Government Assembly, with a view to the presidency in a few years.”
“President,” she repeated. “That is like a king, yes?”
“Sort of. Only the president isn’t born to the office, he’s elected to it by the people.”
“And your friend Vee tells the people who to elect?”
He couldn’t suppress a surprised laugh. “I suppose she does! They don’t have to listen to her, of course, but she has a way of being very persuasive. The word is, I’m unlikely to lose with her backing me.”
Aurora’s gaze was wide and clear, and yet he had the impression that there was a lot going on behind her open façade. “So where does the home and family come in?”
He shrugged. “Traditionally, married politicians do better than unmarried ones. People seem to place greater trust in a family man than in a carefree bachelor.”
She cocked her head on one side. “You don’t seem very carefree to me. But who’s the lucky lady who would lend you this respectability?”
He should have taken offense at the self-righteous distaste in her voice, but in truth her view coincided so closely with his that he only sighed. “That’s another part of the problem. Vee rather covets the role herself.”
Aurora looked down at her plate, pushing her fork idly into the stew. “She loves you?”
“No. Well, maybe. I don’t know. The truth is, we’re pretty well suited. We’re both hard-working, committed people whose grand passions seem to be confined to work.”
Her gaze lifted and she scanned his face. “You don’t love her either. It’s a marriage of convenience. Mine too,” she added wistfully. “Although I would have loved him, I know I would have.”
“You can’t know any such thing,” Joel said, unreasonably irritated by this statement.
“You mean you don’t think you will learn to love this Vee woman?”
Joel dragged his hand through his hair. He wasn’t used to conversations like these, but the unworldly, unexpectedly sexy little princess on his bed was just too damned easy to talk to.
“I don’t know. The political thing is a challenge. It’s something new, but I’ve no idea if I’d be any good at it. And if I’m honest, part of me does like the idea of a proper home with a wife and family. Only…oh hell, I don’t know.” He rose from the bed and cleared off the plates and flatware, setting the tray on the dresser.
“Only the other part of you doesn’t?” She sounded oddly hopeful.
“The other part of me is scared,” he confessed. It was the first time he’d admitted that to himself too. “Scared of commitment, of letting down someone else if and when I fail. And besides…” Joel dropped back onto the bed, pushing the pillow against the headboard and leaning into it. “It’s funny. If I close my eyes, I can see myself making speeches, fighting verbal battles in the Assembly and working hard to get things done behind the scenes. I can see myself making things better, making a difference. But when it comes to the marriage bit, I close my eyes and nothing comes. I can conjure up a picture of Vee, but she isn’t beside me. I can see us talking and working as friends, but I can’t see the family part.”
He broke off.
Aurora said, “And that’s what you are trying to decide on this holiday, whether to go into politics and whether to marry this Vee?”
“In a nutshell.”
“Well, I would try the politics and hold off on the wedding. If she won’t help you without marriage, she’s not a nice enough woman for you.” She smoothed
the rumpled coverlet briskly as if certain she’d solved his problem.
Joel blinked. He felt like laughing, only it wasn’t funny. Aurora wasn’t funny either. She was serious, intending to help him as he’d helped her. He could dismiss her words as naïve and laughably innocent. And yet they struck a chord of simple honesty that was in danger of getting lost in all the spin and dealing of politics. He felt a twinge of loss. He’d almost decided to go through with Vee’s proposal, but now, because of the words of this child who couldn’t even look after herself, he’d almost decided not to.
Who was he kidding? She wasn’t a child. She was a fully grown woman of strong if unawakened passions. That had been obvious last night, and he recognized it afresh now. Her eyes grew warm as they gazed into his face, and her long eyelashes swept down to cover her surge of desire.
Joel’s body heated in instant response. Oh yes, she was woman enough to feel the attraction that simmered and sparked between them as they lay side by side on the bed. He could see the rapid rise and fall of her pert little breasts in their skimpy top, had to fight the urge to lean across the bed and touch the pebbled nipples clearly visible through the fabric, roll them between his fingers, push up her top and kiss her breasts. A night in his arms would waken her, all right. He’d make sure of that, show her the importance, the confusion, sex could add to one’s life decisions.
No, he wouldn’t. That would be far too unkind. It wasn’t even true. He wanted her because she was lovely and because she—moved him, not because he wanted to prove anything. And he couldn’t be so callous as to take her when she was so confused and grief-stricken. He was well aware her interest in his life was much like the television for her right now—escape from her own devastating problems.
With a stern internal warning to his hardening cock, he said aloud, “Well, we both have a lot to think about. I suggest we should sleep on it.”
She flushed, adding delectable rosy color to her face and neck and even her shoulders. His cock ignored his warnings.
“Where will you sleep?” she asked, lifting her head, once again the princess addressing her servant, which had the effect of instantly squashing his half-formed, half-hearted plan to try to get another room for himself.
“Here,” he said dryly. “There’s plenty of space for both of us.”
She eyed the bed dubiously. “I’m used to sleeping alone in a bed this size.”
“Aurora, for the last several hundred years, apparently, you’ve slept on a wooden floor. Get over it. Trust me, we won’t even touch hands.”
Convinced she’d never be able to sleep with anyone else, let alone Joel, lying in the same bed, Aurora curled up on the edge, as far away from him as she could get. She thought she wanted time to herself, to grieve. But as she stared into the darkness, she began to wonder if she was too numb, or too confused by the world’s new strangeness. Or perhaps the sheer number of years her parents had been dead already had somehow dulled the edges.
When she closed her eyes, she remembered them perfectly, every detail of their loving, anxious faces, every expression of anger or care or concentration, every tone of voice used to address her, friends, servants, ministers… She could see them in the castle, sitting on their thrones, walking in the gardens, laughing with her in some childhood game, or riding out toward the gates.
But she couldn’t see them here in this weird new world. She couldn’t imagine them in this hotel room accepting Joel’s easy, informal kindness. She certainly couldn’t imagine their reaction to his lowly birth, his disrespectful manners and his managing ways. They’d never meet him, never know anything about him, and although that thought brought a lump to her throat, it seemed to keep the actual grief at bay, as if she’d left her parents in another country while she got on with her own life.
She tried to imagine their shock at finding her in this bed wearing nothing but her wispy chemise and shorts with Joel asleep in some undergarment only a foot away from her. But this was a new life, a new Aurora, and she could do things she never would have considered before.
Part of her wanted to laugh with joy at the sense of freedom that surged through her. The other part listened to Joel’s deep, even breathing and wanted to turn over to watch him sleep. Unable to resist, she finally did so, remembering to sigh as she resettled on the pillow. Just in case her movement woke him, she’d pretend to be asleep.
But his breathing continued without pause or hitch. He lay with his back to her, his arm flung out of the quilt to reveal the broad line of his naked shoulders and back. There was no detail to be seen in the dark. But a chink of light from the street broke through the heavy curtains to shine near his edge of the bed. Slowly, she raised herself on one elbow and looked over his shoulder at his sleeping face.
She’d been right. The light did illuminate his features, smooth and contented in sleep, seeming much younger and more vulnerable than in his wakeful state. She felt an urge to touch his face, the fine creases around his eyes, his full, still lips… She remembered how they’d felt on hers. Her heart beat faster and louder.
There was magic in a kiss. She’d always been taught that and she believed it. The kiss of this man was meant to awaken her, she was sure. And if the “fairytale” Joel had told her was at least partially true, then the spell of her guardian fairies must have been so strong that his very presence had done the job. He wasn’t a prince. But in this world, neither was she a princess, and she found she didn’t much care. Not when she could gaze on the sleeping face of this strong, handsome man and imagine his arms around her and his mouth on hers once more.
He stirred, turning with a hint of restlessness. In fright, Aurora, whipped back on her other side and pretended to sleep. She might be the “new” Aurora with the power to do as she wished, but she was also the old Aurora who was shy and nervous about all this.
Joel grunted and then breathed normally again, long and deep. Aurora let out a sigh of relief. But he was closer now. She could feel his warm breath tickling her nape, making the tiny hairs there stand up in awareness. At first, she was frightened to move, and then, slowly, she realized she liked his breath on her neck; she liked his nearness, the warmth radiating from his body to hers. Sharing a bed was not so bad. Except that it made her wonder what would happen if he came any closer, if he touched her…
He wouldn’t. He’d said so, and she had the feeling he regarded her as more of a precocious child than a woman capable of adult feelings. Her body heated. Adult sensations. Joel’s kisses on her mouth, on her breasts, Joel’s clever, knowing hands all over her body, fanning the flame she could feel burning here between her legs.
She let her mind go, fantasizing about more of those kisses, imagining his hand caressing her thigh, sliding inward to stroke the little nub of delight. Would he bring her to full pleasure that way? Oh yes, certainly in this fantasy. She wanted his cock too, but since she had no idea how that would feel, she’d stick with his hand.
At her shoulder, Joel stirred again, as if he was too hot or uncomfortable. His breath pushed out, ruffling her hair, and without warning he shifted against her. Shocked, she expected him to jump away again immediately, but instead, he let out a grunt of apparent satisfaction and hooked one arm over her.
Aurora was afraid to breathe, especially when his thighs curved against hers, fitting his whole body around her shape.
When one got over the shock, she decided after several moments, it was really quite a nice, enveloping hug. She couldn’t even take offense since he was obviously asleep and unaware whom he was cuddling. Or even that he was cuddling. Well, she would take the comfort and the oddly sweet, stolen excitement of his touch. It was real, physical, and so much better than fantasy.
She smiled into the pillow and closed her eyes. And since his hand lay so close, she wrapped her fingers around his. Now she could sleep.
She’d almost drifted off when he moved closer, pressing against her. Her eyes sprang open. Shocked all over again, she felt the hardness of his erection p
ushing against her bottom, insinuating itself between her cheeks. His hand slid free of her fingers and down inside the quilt, finding the curve of her waist and hip and thigh. The warm breath on her neck hitched as his hand caressed and tangled in her chemise, drawing it up until he found skin to stroke instead. He gave a faint, inarticulate murmur of satisfaction.
Paralyzed by sensation, by the idea that her fantasy was beginning in reality, Aurora didn’t even try to stop him. She didn’t want to. She loved the feel of his hand on her thigh, moving up over her hip. It burned where it touched and spread tingles through her whole body. He moved against her back with lazy sensuality, rubbing his erect cock against the soft flesh of her bottom through her loose jogging shorts and his. Her whole body burning now, she wondered what that, his cock would feel like, skin to skin. His thigh moved on hers, at once smooth and rough with its short, coarse hairs, and she loved that too.
But he was asleep. This wasn’t fair to him. It seemed to Aurora that she had never wanted anything more in her life than this man’s caresses right now, but he’d already made it plain he didn’t want to involve himself with her. After all, there was the unspeakable Vee woman who wanted to marry him and get him elected as president.
She found it hard to care about that as his fingers caressed the flesh of her waist and stomach, slowly pushing the waistband of the shorts ever lower. She wore nothing beneath them. He stroked the tingles into a thousand tiny fires that all seemed to meet between her legs, and despite all the moisture pooling there so rapidly, none of it quenched the flame.
When his hand swept upward beneath the camisole and over her breast, she gasped. It felt so good cupping and exploring, her one anxiety was that he’d stop. Instead, his fingertips rubbed over her nipple and pinched. Aurora moaned, then bit her lip because she didn’t want to waken him. Or no, she did want to waken him and ensure he knew he was making love to her. Was he awake? Impossible to tell. His breath was loud and ragged in her ear. His roaming hand left her breast to sweep down her stomach, gliding over her navel and down between her parted legs. The shorts were halfway off her hips now, and Aurora quickly pushed them all the way down her legs, baring herself to him. Unhindered, his fingers slid through her folds and unerringly found her slick, swollen nub.