The Princess Affair
Page 7
She turned and led them into the dining hall, chattering all the while about how what a magnificent job the Trust had done this year of selecting a diverse, intelligent, and ambitious group. Sasha forced herself not to roll her eyes. Had she honestly subjected herself to a cadre of academics, just because of one perfect kiss? What was her life turning into—some kind of modern day farce of a fairytale?
And then she caught sight of Kerry, who had chosen a seat at the farthest table near one of the tall windows where she was deep in conversation with another woman. Sunlight streamed over her, rendering her curly hair a crown of flames. Dressed less formally than the night before in gray slacks, a white collared shirt, and a thin black sweater, she made Sasha’s mouth water. There was no use in denying it.
The secretary cleared her throat. “Ladies and gentlemen, I have some wonderful news. Her Royal Highness Princess Alexandra has decided to break her fast with us this morning since she was unable to join us last night. Please welcome her.”
As the applause began and every pair of eyes in the room focused on her, Sasha realized just how many people she was going to have to mollify before she could confront Kerry and demand an explanation. But at least she didn’t have to read them that vapid speech concocted by Bloom. Squaring her shoulders, she smiled as though her mind wasn’t in turmoil.
“Good morning. On behalf of the royal family, I’d like to welcome you to England. I wish you all the best in your academic endeavors, and I look forward to speaking with you over the next hour.”
With that, she let the secretary direct her to her table. Usually, she spent events like these on autopilot, with a practiced smile on her lips and a banal quip on the tip of her tongue. Sometimes, she was even able to ascend into a sort of fugue state, gliding through her responsibilities while her imagination wandered. But today, she couldn’t seem to lose herself in the familiar ritual of public appearance. Instead, she felt magnetized. As Mary Spencer introduced her to several other trustees, Sasha had to force herself not to angle her body so that she could keep an eye on Kerry. By the time she had been introduced to two tables’ worth of students, her skin was tingling as though she’d absorbed some kind of electrical charge.
She felt a flash of panic when she came face-to-face with Kerry’s friend Harris, but thankfully, he acted as though they’d never met. He did, however, make a point of stepping out of her field of vision just in time for her to see Kerry walking briskly toward the corridor leading out of the hall. Surely, she wouldn’t leave before the event’s conclusion. Perhaps she was seeking a temporary asylum?
“Ms. Spencer,” Sasha asked quickly, trying not to sound desperate, “would you kindly direct me to the nearest WC?”
“This way, ma’am.” She gestured the way Kerry had gone. “I’d be happy to escort you.”
Sasha shook her head. “Thank you for the offer, but my protection officer will accompany me.”
She spun away, Ian two steps behind, and struggled to maintain a dignified pace across the room. As soon as she rounded the corner, she lengthened her strides.
“Your Royal Highness—” Ian began.
Sasha cut him off. “Listen at the door if you must, but no one else enters.”
His long-suffering sigh almost made her feel guilty. When they reached the door, she pulled it open and entered to find Kerry, arms braced against the sink, gazing intently at her own reflection. Wariness suffused her face as she turned to face Sasha.
“Your Royal Highness.”
“Oh, stop that.” Sasha wished she could take the words back as soon as they’d left her lips. Forcing herself to move slowly, she halted a few feet away from Kerry. This close, she could make out the smudges beneath her eyes that hadn’t been there yesterday.
She raised her hand, wanting to touch the delicate skin, but then thought better of it. How long had it been since she’d felt uncertainty in the presence of an attractive woman? Not since her first adolescent kiss in the doorway of her room at boarding school.
“You look exhausted.”
Kerry let go of her death grip on the sink. The stiffness of her posture was belied by the darkness of her eyes. Attraction.
“I didn’t sleep very well last night.”
Sasha took a slow step forward, and then another—approaching Kerry the same way she’d been taught to approach her easily-spooked polo pony.
“Me, neither. I wish you hadn’t left.”
“Oh?”
“We could have gone back to my hotel. You would have slept like a baby. Eventually.”
Sasha watched Kerry’s throat constrict in a swallow and saw the quick flash of pink as her tongue darted out to moisten her lips. Mesmerized, she belatedly noticed that apprehension had joined the arousal plain on Kerry’s face. Was she being too forward?
“I never should have allowed anything to happen between us last night,” Kerry said into the awkward silence. “I’m afraid you caught me at a weak moment. Please accept my apologies.”
Sasha shook her head and took one more step. “I don’t want your apologies. And ‘weak’ is not a word I would use to describe you at any moment.”
“Please. Stop.” Kerry held up one hand to ward her off. “I want you. I won’t pretend otherwise. You…you’re rather irresistible, and I got carried away. But you don’t know me. All I’d be is a notch on your bedpost, and I don’t want that.”
The words felt like a slap to the face. “You truly believe that’s all I’m after?”
Her tone was sharp, and Kerry seemed chagrined. “I didn’t mean to insult you. But look at the facts. We met at a club, and barely half an hour later we were…”
“Snogging.”
“Snogging?”
Sasha couldn’t help but smile at Kerry’s incredulous tone. “That’s what we call it.”
Kerry laughed quietly. “Apparently, I’ve learned something new already today.” But as they continued to stare at each other across the tiled floor, her smile faded.
“So…friends?” Color suddenly bloomed in her cheeks, drowning out her freckles. “Not that you need any more of those, I imagine—”
“One can never have too many friends.” Fighting to remain gracious, Sasha extended her hand across the gap between them. “I come to Oxford often. I’m certain I’ll see you soon.”
As their palms slid together, she heard Kerry’s quiet intake of breath and had to force herself not to capitalize on the chemistry between them. If she pushed just the slightest bit harder, Kerry would surrender. The temptation was strong, but if she gave in, then she would be resorting to a kind of coercion. Sasha had to be manipulative enough in her dealings with her father and the public. She didn’t want—or need—to coerce her lovers, too.
She forced the smile back onto her face as she rejoined Ian in the corridor. Whatever Kerry Donovan’s hang-ups were, Sasha wasn’t about to let them get to her. There were plenty of other attractive women out there with no compunctions whatsoever about falling into bed with her. Spending any more time dwelling on one rejection was just plain silly.
*
Kerry let out a long breath and felt her shoulders slump as the door clicked shut. The hollow sound seemed to echo in her chest, bouncing between her ribs. This entire morning had been completely derailed by Sasha’s unexpected appearance at their breakfast. The Princess Alexandra introduced by the Secretary was a poised and elegant woman who bore only a superficial resemblance to the sensual whirlwind that had decimated Kerry’s reason last night. She walked differently, talked differently, dressed differently, spoke differently. And yet, as soon as they were facing each other alone again, the sparks had leapt up between them.
It wasn’t at all difficult to imagine what would have happened had she accepted Sasha’s offer. In fact, she’d tossed and turned all night in an effort to shake her lingering regret at having fled Summa. Now, Sasha’s absence felt suffocating. Kerry shook her head in an effort to dispel the odd sense of claustrophobia. She had made the right decision.
It only felt like the wrong one because she was lonely.
“And because you didn’t have any self-control last night,” she scolded her reflection.
The door banged open and she whirled to the sight of Harrison stalking toward her, his hair nearly brushing the low ceiling.
“Harris! This is the ladies’ room!”
He crossed his arms over his muscular chest. “I’m not leaving, and neither are you, until you tell me why she came here this morning.”
Kerry narrowed her eyes, but he showed no sign of relenting. Sometimes, he put her in mind of her brother Aidan’s obstinate bulldog puppy. She sighed.
“Something happened last night.”
He threw his hands into the air. “You told me nothing happened!”
“I lied.”
“Never lie to me again.”
“I won’t.” Guilt and confusion roiling in her stomach, she reached for his right hand. “Look, I’m sorry. I really am. I didn’t know how to process it all, and—”
His scowl deepened. “You process it by talking it out with me!”
“Okay. I get it. I will from now on. Promise.” She tried to grin but could feel it coming out lopsided. “Not that it’s likely to happen again.”
Harris pulled her into a quick hug, then grasped both her shoulders. “Start from the beginning.”
“I’ll tell you everything, but not here and not now. Can we just go try to survive the rest of this event? I’ll answer any question you like, afterward. I swear it.”
Thankfully, Harris relented. But as they walked slowly back toward the hall, he bumped his shoulder against hers.
“Just tell me one thing now.”
After her lie, she owed him, and he knew it. The mercenary. “Fine.”
“Was she good?”
Kerry grit her teeth. She should have seen that coming. “We made out a little,” she muttered. “That’s all.”
Harris was smiling like the cat that had swallowed the canary. “And I repeat. Was she good?”
Suddenly blindsided by the memory of Sasha’s hips surging against her thigh, Kerry found herself momentarily speechless. Her fingertips flashed hot, as though Sasha’s smooth skin had invisibly branded them. How was it possible that the passion she’d experienced in those few short minutes rivaled the heights of what she’d found with Virginia? They’d been in love, and their relationship certainly hadn’t been prudish. For one heated moment to compare in any way to that kind of history was ludicrous.
“Ker-ry.” Harris drew out the syllables of her name as he snapped his fingers in front of her face. His grin was even wider now. “Where’d you go, hmm?”
Taking a deep breath, she stopped and turned to face him. “She was amazing. And that’s all the detail you’re getting.”
She spun and walked resolutely back into the hall, struggling not to roll her eyes at the sound of his diabolical chuckling behind her. Almost immediately, she caught a glimpse of Sasha conversing with a trustee and a few of her peers. The princess was laughing at something, and her left hand rested lightly on Anna’s forearm as she leaned in to make some sort of comment. Kerry looked away and pinched the bridge of her nose as her head began to pound. Had she actually felt a twinge of jealousy, minutes after firmly rejecting Sasha’s invitation? That was beyond ludicrous. She wanted nothing more than to hit the “undo” button on the last twenty-four hours.
After scanning the rest of the room, she noticed Julia standing near the coffee station and began to make her way over. She had to pull herself together or she’d be a mess for her meeting with the architecture faculty. There would be no more thinking about Princess Alexandra today. Or ever again. Forgetting that the past day had ever happened was in the best interest of everyone.
But in the evening, as she sat at her desk poring over one of the books she’d been instructed to purchase, Kerry couldn’t seem to escape her memories. She’d been trying to read the introduction for the past half hour, but her focus was in tatters. Each time she bent her head to the page, her brain conjured up a vision: the hungry gleam in Sasha’s jade-colored eyes just before their kiss; the taste of expensive cognac lingering on Sasha’s tongue; the fine shiver she’d felt when her fingers first encountered skin.
Kerry cursed and leaned back in her chair, staring at the ceiling. Immediately, her legs began to twitch. The restlessness was riding her hard tonight, exacerbated by the desire Sasha had ignited in every cell. Her body felt as though it was a firestorm, smoldering from the inside out. This seething sensation had plagued her off and on, ever since Virginia had called off their relationship. It felt like fire ants crawling under her skin, and try as she might, she’d never been able to resist its imperative. In the past, she had always given herself two options: exercise until she was too exhausted to keep her eyes open, or stay in, get drunk, and try to ease the ache by her own hand.
Tonight, neither appealed. Her tryst with Sasha had blown open the Pandora’s Box of her desire. She needed to feel the press of a crowd, the burn of alcohol cascading down her throat, the heat of a woman’s desirous gaze traveling down her body. Most of all, she needed touch.
After only a moment’s indecision, Kerry quickly went to her dresser. She put on jeans and a black tank top, then shoved a few pound notes, one credit card, and her university ID into a front pocket. Before she could change her mind, she grabbed her black leather jacket and was out the door. The night was clear and cold, and she walked quickly toward the northern edge of town. There was a women’s bar near the park she’d run in yesterday. At the very least, she could check it out. If it wasn’t any fun, she could always go home.
The Coven’s entrance was down an alley that opened out onto Broad Street just a block from the park. Inside, ambient music poured from speakers set into each wall corner. The walls were painted black and decorated with strange iridescent markings that looked vaguely pagan. High tables and chairs lined the wall opposite the bar, while the back of the establishment seemed to be open for dancing. Kerry claimed a bar stool next to a young, heavily pierced couple engaged in a languorous make-out session.
When the bartender came around, she ordered a shot of Ketel One and a Newcastle. She downed the shot immediately, finding a small measure of relief in the chill of the vodka as it sluiced into her empty stomach. Grabbing the beer, she swiveled on her stool to observe the denizens of the club. Despite the fact that it was a weeknight, most of the tables were populated. Two couples shared the dance floor with a ring of women who looked to be about Kerry’s age, or maybe a bit older.
One of them, a thin blonde in a red dress, caught her looking and smiled. Kerry couldn’t help but continue watching as she moved more provocatively, exaggerating the swing of her hips. She danced very well, but her motions were studied. She had none of the intrinsic wildness that had attracted Kerry to Sasha. Which was, she reminded herself as the woman broke off from her group and walked toward her, a good thing. Because she was here to forget all about the princess.
“Do I know you?” the woman asked.
Kerry forced herself not to wince at the hackneyed line. “I don’t think so. I’m Kerry.”
“Heather.” As she extended her hand, gold bracelets jangled on one thin wrist.
“Can I buy you a drink?”
Heather smiled, and Kerry caught a flash of silver in her mouth. That, at least, was tantalizing.
“Just a shot. Then we should dance.”
When Kerry offered the stool, Heather perched on it lightly and reached for Kerry’s hand. “Share it with me.”
Breasts pressed to Heather’s back, Kerry flagged down the bartender with one hand while Heather guided the other onto the smooth skin of her thigh. Trying to relax, Kerry brushed feathery strokes back and forth above her knee. Heather’s cologne tickled her nose, and she took shallow breaths.
“I haven’t seen you here before,” Heather said. “Are you new in town?”
“I am. I’m just about to begin graduate school.”
“New York.”
“New York. I’ve been once. Such a thrilling city.”
Kerry decided not to explain that she didn’t live in the city itself, but in a small suburb populated by the Irish cops and firemen who worked in Manhattan. She was just about to try to distract Heather by asking for more details about her trip to the States, when their shots arrived. They clinked glasses and drank, but the chill did nothing to dispel Kerry’s growing sense of trepidation. This had been a bad idea.
After a few more minutes of idle chat, Heather turned, bent her head, and pressed a kiss to Kerry’s right bicep. “I’m going to run to the WC.” She brushed Kerry’s jawline with her knuckles. “Then you should join me on the dance floor.”
“Okay.”
But as soon as Heather disappeared, Kerry threw a few bills on the bar and hustled out the door. She was being an ass, but she had to escape. This wasn’t what she needed. Every second of her encounter with Heather had felt wrong. Terribly wrong.
A blast of cold air greeted her outside, and she turned her face willingly into the wind. As she broke into a jog, Kerry realized this was the second night in a row that she’d fled from a beautiful woman. Was it worse that she’d gotten herself in the same situation twice in two days, or that she had run away each time?
“Pull yourself together,” she muttered as she turned the corner onto St. Cross and headed toward the Manor. She had one short week to settle in and prepare before the maelstrom of classes began. One short week to get her head on straight and stop sabotaging herself.
“Focus. No more mistakes.”
Chapter Six
Sasha sipped at her tea and pretended to stare contemplatively into the impeccably manicured garden that stretched out below her table. It was beautiful, if you liked orderly paths lined with trimmed hedges, ornamented with flowering shrubs placed at precise, repetitive intervals. She found the entire scene rather dull and much preferred to covertly people-watch behind her large sunglasses—especially because most of the people were not-so-covertly watching her and Ashleigh. The Terrace of the Goring Hotel was one of the most famous tea spots in the city and attracted tourists and members of high society alike. She could practically hear their exclamations and speculations. The princess is dining with the prince’s fiancée! Are they actually friends, or is this a publicity stunt? What are they talking about? How does Ms. Dunning feel about Princess Sasha’s vexed public image?