More competitive than he imagined, she'd taken the upper hand once or twice until he wrested it away from her again. Impressed with how cunningly she played, and how dismissive she was of the bad weather, Mattias pushed his next piece sideways, closer to her queen. Closer to her.
“Oh no you don't,” Alannah teased, outmaneuvering him with her next move. The white of her smile flickered to life, there and gone in a heartbeat.
Mattias laughed, enjoying the unexpected sensuality he detected in her voice. She was so different from the withdrawn, fidgety woman on the balcony that Mattias briefly wondered if it was all part of her grand plan. Lure the unwary in with discreet glances and a shy tuck of her chin, then take on a siren's traits once she had a man alone. He didn't know her well enough to decide whether he was falling prey to her game, or she to his. Without the bodyguard lurking close by, it allowed them to be more open and animated than they might have been otherwise.
They parried through another set of turns, more and more pieces pushed to the side of the board as the hunt narrowed. She took his last knight, he took her bishop. Circling his king, Mattias made a circuit around the board, pretending to study the angles, positions and pieces from all sides. He caught the way Alannah followed him with her eyes, turning her head or her shoulders to keep him in view. It sent a tingle along his spine, threatened to distract him from his objective.
Thunder shook the heavens hard enough to rattle Mattias's bones. He smiled at Alannah, then pushed his queen into place.
“Checkmate.”
She hadn't expected this to happen. Not on this trip, not with this man. Not with any man. Alannah was here only on her father's behalf, filling in while he attended an important meeting on the other side of the world. Yet as they drifted in and out from behind their pieces, as she glimpsed the open vee of his white shirt and the loose black tie around his throat, she couldn't deny that the Prince had somehow gotten under her skin. Just a little bit. She was incapable of halting the teasing looks and quips they volleyed back and forth as they played, just as she couldn't seem to rein in her desire to unbutton the shirt and run her hands over his chest. What had gotten into her?
Then came the fateful words, dragging her back to reality.
Checkmate.
While she'd been preoccupied daydreaming about touching his flesh, he'd somehow positioned himself to win. Closing the distance, she held out her hand, hating to admit defeat yet ready to feel his hand in hers.
“Nicely played, Prince Mattias,” she said. It was every bit as electrifying as she thought it might be when their palms touched. Jolted by the contact, she squeezed lightly, close enough now to see the glint in his dark eyes. Mesmerizing eyes.
“Thank you,” he said with gracious aplomb. “It appears you will be my escort to the masquerade after all.”
Alannah read more into his meaning than he probably meant to convey. It sounded to her as if 'It appears you'll be accompanying me to my bed after all' could easily have been the words out of his mouth instead. Or, perhaps, with the way he smoothed the pad of his thumb across the space between her thumb and index finger, he intended to layer the innuendo into his comment. Either way it left her strangely breathless. And breathlessness was not a condition Alannah suffered from around any man.
“It seems so. I'm looking forward to it.” Alannah, reluctant to slide her fingers free of his, licked a few droplets of rain off her upper lip. Her entire face was wet, like her hair. Like the white halter style top that was undoubtedly see through by now. She watched his gaze drop from her eyes to her mouth, then back again. He was too much of a gentleman, she thought, to blatantly stare at her chest.
“As am I. I would offer you use of my jacket to return to the manor...” He let it trail. His coat was as soaked as the rest of their clothing and would do her little good in the way of protection.
“It's the thought that counts.” She took a half step forward when he applied gentle pressure on their clasped hands. Alannah caught the masculine scent of his cologne mixed with the rain, felt his breath brush high across her cheek before his lips touched down there. The wild desire to make the kiss deeper, to bring their mouths together, to seek his tongue and heat all but overwhelmed her. He tilted his head back, partly breaking the spell.
“Will you allow me to walk you back to your room? I would prefer it, considering the manor is still without power.”
The intimate request sent shivers through Alannah's body. How was it that the Prince affected her so? What started as an innocent game had become something more. His easy sensuality crept up on her at some indefinable point, making her not only more aware of him, but more aware of herself as well.
“Yes, please. I'm sure my bodyguard will be waiting just inside, but your escort is appreciated nevertheless.” Alannah desperately wished Barrett would evaporate into the ether. She trusted the Prince to see her safely to her suite and maybe, just maybe, he might be tempted into another cheek kiss outside her door.
“Excellent.” Mattias loomed closer, backlit suddenly by lightning.
Alannah tipped her face up a notch, maintaining eye contact, lips parting in anticipation. Then he eased away, as if his initial lean had only been a part of his natural motion of turning to offer his elbow. She slipped her fingers under the crook, fighting off disappointment.
After fetching his sopping jacket, Mattias led her through the cobbled walk of the garden and up the broad staircase leading to a set of double doors. He shook his head, sending drops of water ripping away from the short crop of his hair.
Alannah didn't miss a thing. She kept glancing at his profile, the strong line of his jaw. Once they reached the doors, he pulled one open and let her enter first. In their absence, tall iron candle holders with lit candles on top had been placed along the hallways, helping to light the way. Barrett came forward from his place against the inside wall.
Mattias moved at the same time, blocking Alannah from view as he swung his dripping coat around her shoulders, pulling it taut over the front.
“You need this,” he said.
“Thank you.” She knew it wasn't for warmth, but to provide a little modesty. The black skirt, just as wet as the top, wasn't an issue.
“Miss Astbury--”
“Barrett, I won't be needing your services just now. Prince Mattias will escort me to my room,” Alannah said, pulling the coat more firmly around her shoulders. She knew she must look a bedraggled mess. Yet she wouldn't trade even one minute of her time in the rain with Mattias.
“But Miss Ast--”
“Really, I'm fine.” Alannah used a no nonsense tone. Barrett, she knew, was only trying to do his job. If something happened to her on his watch, her father would probably fire him.
Alannah tucked her fingers under Mattias's elbow, falling into step as he led her down the hallway. The heat of his skin defied the coolness left behind by the rain. They hadn't gone ten feet when Mattias glanced behind them. She did, too, wondering what he was looking at.
Three men, security by the cut of their suits, strode toward Mattias.
In his own language, one Alannah found pleasing on the ear, Mattias halted the men in their tracks. He spoke quick and decisive, leaving no room for argument.
The men inclined their heads, glanced at Alannah with polite smiles, then retreated.
“Your men seem to know where you are at all times, even if I rarely see them around,” she said once they were walking again.
“They're good at what they do. And they know I don't appreciate being reminded every second of my status.”
“I imagine it's difficult to overcome, your status. To try and live somewhat normally.”
“Honestly, 'normal' isn't a term that has ever applied to me or my family. But I do the best I can. What about you? I believe your father, and grandfather, were both wealthy men. So you grew up in this atmosphere, did you not?” Mattias guided her into a turn, then toward a back staircase leading to the upper floors.
“Yes,
although I still think you and I are worlds apart. I can move about foreign countries almost unscathed—it's different for you. Many people know your face.”
“More than that, we always have to be careful due to the threats on our lives. Sometimes, I can be in London or Moscow or smaller cities in less popular countries and the only reason anyone pays attention is because of the security I'm forced to travel with. Any entourage draws the eye.”
“I think I would hate that kind of life,” she admitted. Alannah already loathed the measures she had to take while traveling or doing something as mundane as grocery shopping. She fought tooth and nail with her father to do it herself rather than have staff go in her stead. Having not just one, but handfuls of guards around all the time would drive her crazy. Noticing the sharp look he slanted sideways, Alannah searched his eyes for clues to what he was thinking.
“Good thing you're not of royal blood then,” he finally said, lips quirking into a faint smile. He glanced behind them.
“Yes, good thing.” She thought his tone as curious as his expression just then. Almost as if he lamented her choice. When he glanced back, she did, too. Nothing and no one was there.
Arriving at the door to her suite, Mattias faced her. “Thank you again for an entertaining evening. I--” He paused. Glanced at her door. Then back to her face. “I look forward to the masquerade tomorrow evening. Shall I come by here at six, or meet you down there so we can try to guess who each other is among all the others?”
Alannah wanted to ask him inside. Just for a drink, or to warm up by the fire. She wasn't sure what else she wanted from him, or whether he too experienced the gravitational pull between them. It paused the words on her tongue, words that switched to something else at the last second.
“Why don't we meet there? I'll spot you within a few seconds, surely, but it'll be fun to search anyway.”
“You never know, I may surprise you and be harder to find than that.” He tilted forward to brush a kiss against her cheek. His lips, warm and soft, lingered a moment too long.
“M...maybe. Yes. Maybe so.” She removed her fingers from his arm, distracted by the kiss. The second he leaned away, she missed the feel of his mouth on her cool skin.
“Very well. I'll see you inside, and then meet you tomorrow at the party,” he said with another glance to the far end of the hallway.
“Perfect.” She fished in her damp skirt pocket for her room key, then followed his glance along the corridor. There at the end, bathed in candlelight, stood the blonde woman she'd glimpsed Mattias dancing with earlier in the evening. Statuesque, coiffed to a tee, the undoubtedly beautiful woman oozed allure and a come-hither stare. Alannah wasn't prepared for the fit of jealousy that struck. For all intents and purposes, the blonde looked to be waiting for Mattias.
“Thanks for allowing me to use your jacket.” Alannah peeled Mattias's wet coat regretfully from her shoulders and handed it back. She twitched when their fingers made contact.
“You're more than welcome,” he said in a low voice, draping the coat over his arm.
Sticking the key in the lock, Alannah opened the door and stepped inside. “Good night, Prince Mattias.”
He glanced away from the blonde and met her eyes. “Good night, Miss Astbury. Sleep sweet.”
Alannah closed the door, the latch catching with a quiet click. Had that been a flicker of warmth in his gaze when he'd said goodnight? Or was it a fanciful wish? She put her ear to the wood, listening for his footsteps. How ridiculous she was being. He wasn't her type. Hadn't she just told him five minutes ago that she would hate having his lifestyle?
She couldn't tell if he'd moved on, or was still standing there. It irked her endlessly that the blonde woman seemed to come claim him, as if she expected his company for the duration of the night.
Spinning around, Alannah faced the dark room. Without power, the only light spilled in through the windows and with the storm, illumination was vague at best. If she hurried, maybe she could find a few candles and invite Mattias in for a drink. But by then he would already be in the blonde's presence, perhaps even on his way to her room—or his. She should invite him in first, then worry about light.
Opening the door, she said, “Wait, would you like to come in--”
But he was already gone.
Chapter Four
Mattias intended to exorcise all his demons and didn't care that he accomplished it between the blonde's legs. He wanted to forget someone else's porcelain skin and gray eyes. With every thrust, he put the memory of the white sheer top further from his mind. Katrina's moans and cries obliterated the echo of Alannah's teasing laugh in the garden, the seductive tone she'd taken while speaking. The scent of sex, heavy and musky, along with the fading floral of Katrina's perfume erased that of Alannah. When Mattias closed his eyes, he did not see Alannah's features behind his eyelids. He saw Katrina, gloriously naked, long limbs wrapped around him. The slap of his hips increased to a furious rhythm, drawing louder, lustier cries from his companion. Her nails scored his back, leaving furrows that he knew would last at least two days. Reminders of his rough handling and incessant pounding. He realized as Katrina nipped his throat, his jaw, that he had an aversion to kissing her on the mouth. Every time he angled his head down to do just that, he veered off course and left a blazing trail of little bites toward her ear or her jugular. He cared little if it irritated her. They were both adults with clear comprehension of their actions, and he hadn't felt the need to explain that nothing would come of their joining. It was simple release, nothing more, nothing less.
After holding himself back so long after the breakup with his ex-girlfriend, Viia, Mattias wasted no time on guilt or second guesses. He took what he wanted, when he wanted it, and to hell with the rest.
Alannah knew when she donned slacks and a silk shirt that she wasn't turning in for the night. Sleep would elude her until she answered the burning question of whether Mattias took that blonde to his bed. Why it mattered so much wasn't something she cared to examine in depth.
Leaving the wet clothes draped over the edge of the garden tub, she added flats to her attire—easier to walk quickly in—and left her suite. Locking the door, she ignored Barrett as she passed him and headed for the juncture of the hallway. One corridor led to another and unless she misunderstood, the Prince's room should be around the corner, about halfway down. In the end, she needn't have worried she might bypass the suite. Two guards she recognized from earlier sat in chairs near the entrance to the apartments, one reading a magazine, the other studying the wall.
Even from twenty feet, the muffled, lusty moans of a woman could be easily heard. Alannah's hair stood up on the back of her neck when she realized, indeed, that the noises were coming from the Prince's room. As she got closer, both guards looked her way, then returned to their watch.
Passing by the suite was one of the harder things Alannah had ever done. Mostly because everyone knew what was going on behind closed doors. Cheeks flaming red, Alannah marched toward the end of the hall as if her mission hadn't included a drive by of the Prince. It didn't matter anyway. The guards, hers and his, all knew what she was doing there. Everyone had seen her with him after returning from the chess game and now, here she was, stalking by looking pissed off and offended.
Angling through the gloomy halls, she made her way back to her own suite. She could hear Barrett close the gap when she fished for her key but held up a hand, palm out, to stop him from making any comments. Opening the door, she entered her room and shut it behind her. With brisk, fidgety motions, she yanked off her clothes, found her nightgown, and got into bed.
It wasn't like Mattias owed her anything. And why did she care so much? Did it matter if he bedded half the party attendees? Of course not. She didn't give one lick whether the Prince collected a harem and rotated through the ranks on an hourly basis.
Maybe tomorrow night she would have to overcome some of her unsocial tendencies and dance with a few men other than the Prince.
/> She closed her eyes, determined on a course of action, but it was hours and hours later before she finally fell asleep.
“I can't believe you're making me leave.” Katrina slipped her foot into a stiletto and fumbled with the buckle.
“There is someone I need to speak with before I sleep.” Mattias didn't feel like explaining why Katrina couldn't spend the entire night in his bed. He made an effort anyway while he poured himself a measure of scotch from a bottle on the sidebar.
Standing, Katrina adjusted her dress, which still looked terribly askew, and glared his way. “It could have waited until morning. Or is it that you're going to visit that other woman? The one you walked to her door?”
Mattias tipped back a swallow of the potent liquor, buying himself a few seconds to cool his temper. If there was anything he didn't like in this world, it was when people questioned his motives and judged him for things they had no business judging him over.
“Your claws are showing,” he said evenly. “And really, it's none of your business who I'm meeting with when you're gone.”
Katrina gasped, flipped a lock of tousled hair over her shoulder, then banged out of his room without looking back.
With that act, the pretty blonde effectively ousted herself from his bed not just for the evening, but from his presence entirely. Mattias didn't have the time nor the wherewithal to pander to tantrums from women who didn't get their way with him. He had business—plain and simple. Business that did not involve lounging around with a woman in his arms the rest of the night. He'd been pretty sure Katrina knew the score here. Knew what they shared was physical, nothing more. She also knew his nature and that sometimes, meetings came before pleasure.
Taking another drink, he walked away from the sidebar and slouched into a cushioned chair. Wearing only a pair of black slacks, he didn't bother to add a shirt or shoes.
The Royal Elite: Mattias Page 4