Royal Opposites

by Crawford, Lori

  Despite the fact he still had several thousand miles left to travel before he could break his vow of celibacy, it’d have been pretty darn tempting.

  “Ladies, first.” He nodded toward the bathroom and prayed she’d leave. Fast. Instead, she stood there, studying him. He had no idea what she was thinking while she looked at him with those soulful brown eyes of hers. He didn’t think she was aware of his uncomfortable state because her eyes stayed on his face. He smiled.

  She smiled back, but it morphed into a bit of a grimace reminding him how much pain she had to be in.

  “I’ll save you some hot water,” she said at last then stepped into the bathroom. That was so not going to be a problem.

  “Okay,” he agreed, smile still very much in place although he felt like it would shatter his face at any moment. He let it fall away when the door closed behind her and heaved a sigh of relief.

  Hoping for a little slack in his khakis, he stood and wandered over to the mirror above a solid dresser. One look in the glass made him cringe. No wonder Joan was worried about sharing a bed with him. His appearance was quite ghastly. His hair stood at odd angles all over his scalp. There was more than one smudge of dirt on his face. His shirt no longer had all of its buttons much less remained tucked in his pants. He looked down at them. The knees were grass stained and dirty. It wasn’t the best outfit in which to conduct a successful seduction. Good thing that was the farthest thing from his mind.

  He spun away from the mirror and thought about his interaction with the woman on duty at the front desk. She hadn’t even blinked at his appearance. Was this the type of establishment that saw dirt-‐-streaked people like him every day? The thought brought him up short. Sure they had a shower, but neither of them had any clothes to change into. Running around the tiny room naked was not an option. Not if he expected to make it through this ordeal and still be celibate and Joan still had the option to return to her life.

  Tom heard the water turn on in the bathroom. Unbidden, the visual of a naked Joan stepping beneath the spray planted itself in his mind. He recalled the feel of her glorious backside in his hands and groaned. This was not going to work. Tom grabbed the car key and room key from the table where he’d dropped them.

  Not trusting himself to look back, he scrambled out the door.

  Chapter Eleven

  Joan felt a thousand times better after she washed all the dirt and grime from her aching body. She still wasn’t quite back to herself since she kept finding new achy spots, but at least the roar in her head had slowed to a gentle hum that she could live with.

  She shut off the water and dried herself with one of the tiny towels which had no hope of ever wrapping around her. Hotel towels never did. She always shrugged it off and got dressed straightaway.

  Her hands froze at the thought. Get dressed? She whirled to look at the tattered remains of the dress she’d worn for the past two days. She didn’t have anything to wear. Not a single stitch of clothing. Even her underwear had managed to get grass stains on it. She didn’t want to think what view she might have been giving Tom when that happened. She could put her bra back on, but wasn’t all that eager to since those shards of glass had fallen out.

  She’d been careful to sweep them up with toilet paper, but didn’t want to risk shaking the garment out then cutting her foot or something later.

  Still, she was left in a pretty dire predicament. Tom was right outside, waiting to get in the bathroom. She had nothing to wear while they traded places. She was sure he’d find himself with the same predicament. Although she couldn’t imagine a man that good-‐-looking being self-‐-conscious of his body. If anything, he’d be a show-‐-off. Given her already inappropriate attraction to the man, she could see that state of affairs would be everything except good.

  Joan considered the door. She had to go out there sometime.

  The sheet. She’d ask him to hand it to her. It had to be large enough for her to wear for the night. In the morning, later this morning, she’d figure out something else. For right now, her headache was coming back and all she wanted to do was sleep.

  Joan held the towel in front of her and cracked open the door. “Tom.”

  She waited for him to answer in the silent room. When there was nothing, she opened the door a little farther and peeked out.

  She half expected to find him asleep on the bed. She didn’t expect the room to be empty. Her eyes went to the table where he’d dropped the keys earlier. Both the sets for the car and room were gone. She didn’t have the energy to panic. Her shoulders slumped and tears threatened to well up in her eyes. He’d left her. After all those speeches about honor and seeing her through this mess, he’d snuck out on her. The rat.

  Joan squared her shoulders. She didn’t need him. Joan’d be fine on her own. But first, she had to get some sleep. The room must be paid up for the night. The thought, made her slam the door open. He’d taken all her money, too. It wasn’t hard to find the energy to be ticked. Calling him a rat was an insult to rats. She stalked over to the bed and ripped the sheet off with much more force than necessary.

  Joan engaged in a tiny battle with the linen when it didn’t want to release the corners of the mattress. At last, she won. But felt no satisfaction. Joan wrapped it around herself and sat on the edge of the bed determined not to let the angry tears slide down her cheeks. It wouldn’t do her any good. Sleep now. Work out the problems of the world later.

  She considered gathering her laundry up off the bathroom floor for a brief moment. What was the purpose? It wasn’t like Joan had to be neat for anyone else. On that thought, she turned off the light in the main room and climbed beneath the comforter. Once curled up on her favorite side to sleep, Joan found a good sized lump on her head. No wonder she had a headache, Joan thought with a wince when her fingers probed the tender spot. The thing felt huge. But there was nothing that could be done about it right this moment. Joan rolled to her other side and faced the door.

  Her heart leapt into her throat when she heard scraping on the other side. Had someone gotten the wrong room? Before she even had time to complete the thought, much less do anything about it, the door swung open and Tom stepped inside with his arms full of packages. He hadn’t left her after all. Joan tried to fight back the relief. He’d still scared her half to death. Not to mention made her realize how much she’d come to depend on him. That wasn’t good.

  He flipped on the light then saw her sit up in the bed and froze. “I didn’t think you’d be finished this soon.”

  “I promised to leave you some hot water.”

  “Yeah. Thanks.” He brought the bags over and dropped them on the bed. “I realized we needed some clothes.” He gave her a sheepish look then unpacked a bag. “I know I couldn’t have done as well as you, but I think I got everything we need for under one hundred dollars.”

  Joan smiled at him. “I’m sure you did great.”

  The smile that lit Tom’s face at her approval made her heart thump wildly in her chest. And now she was back to her original problem. Of course now she was naked. Joan was beginning to think his abandoning her might have been the lesser of two evils.

  He reached inside the bag and handed her a bottle of water and some aspirin. She almost melted at the thoughtfulness. Joan accepted the offering with a grateful smile. “Thanks.”

  She poured the white pills in her hand, but only stared at them while the events of the last couple of days replayed in her head. Tom seemed to be a blur of activity while he unpacked the bags and put the items away. She watched him open a package of boxer briefs and felt the unreasonable urge to cry. He gave her a brief wink, and then ducked in the bathroom with his toiletries.

  How could she have thought such mean things about him when he’d been nothing but wonderful to her?

  The first tear streaked down her face. She wanted to brush it away, but her limbs felt far too heavy. The aspirin sat forgotten in her hand and the bottle of water was cold against her thigh, but she couldn’t
bring herself to do anything about it. So she sat. Staring and hurting. The car’s wild jolt over the embankment played over and over again in her mind. Each time it ended with a different

  ‘what if’ outcome. The one that disturbed her most was the ‘what if’ Tom had died when they crashed.

  Granted, he didn’t look any the worse for wear, but she’d noted his torn clothes. If his shower was going like hers had, she’d be willing to bet he was finding all sort of scrapes and bruises he hadn’t been aware of. What would she have done if his injuries had been more serious? Although she preferred her status of an independent woman, she wasn’t stupid. It hadn’t escaped her attention that he’d been the one to get them out of there. If not for him, they’d be dead.

  This brought her full circle to her original fear. What if he left her? Not that she could blame him. After all, he was just sticking around for her. She had no doubt he could walk into the nearest police station any time he felt like it and be well taken care of. He wouldn’t even see the inside of a cell. Not with him being royalty. The sole thing stopping him from doing just that was her.

  The moment he no longer had her holding him back, he could get to safety. She had no doubt the guards had anything other than death in mind for them. They couldn’t. Not if they worked for some ruthless man who’d made it very clear it was either the guards or her and Tom. Even though it would be tough to deal with Tom walking out on her, it would be so much worse if he got killed.

  “Joan?” She jumped at the sound of his voice then looked up. He stood before her in sweats slung low around his narrow hips. He was drying his bare chest with one of those tiny towels and his hair was slicked back away from his face. She’d never been in the presence of a sexier man. Still, that didn’t stop her gaze from tracing the bruise which stretched in a diagonal across his torso.

  Her eyes still didn’t leave the spot even when he came over and knelt beside her. He dabbed at her tears with the damp towel.

  “What is it, honey? What’s wrong? Are you hurting?”

  She shook her head, but couldn’t find any words. With a shaky hand, she traced the bruise on his chest. Met his eyes. The concern she saw in them almost started another flood of tears.

  “I’m so sorry.”

  Tom caught her hand in his and gave it a squeeze. “What do you have to be sorry for? None of this is your fault.”

  “Maybe I didn’t start it, but I’m certainly the reason why you haven’t been able to get to safety.” Tapping into a hidden reserve of energy, she pulled out of his grasp and rolled away from him across the bed. With a less than graceful motion, she slid off the side and stood up while trying to keep the sheet tucked around her.

  Tom frowned and watched her from where he remained crouched between the mattress and the wall.

  “We’re going to the cops. You’re royalty. There’s no way they can let anything happen to you without starting an international incident. You can tell them what happened and let the authorities clear up this whole mess.”

  “What about you, Joan? This could take a while to resolve.

  Do you think they’ll let you just roam around free until then?”

  “It doesn’t matter. Anything has to be better than all this running and wrecking and—it just has to be better.” The tears threatened to start again. Frustrated, she swiped them away with her forearm.

  “Stop for a minute and think this through. If we turn ourselves in, we’ll be sitting ducks. We have to stick to the plan and get to safe ground before we take a stand.”

  “I have thought this though. They’re not going to let us get to safe ground, Tom.” Joan pulled the sheet tighter around her when she felt the chill caused by the thought. “What happens if they manage to kill us in the meantime? No amount of safe ground will be able to change that. You have your country to think of.

  What happens to them if you die messing around with me?”

  “I’m not going to die—”

  “What happens, Tom? As King you’re kind of an important guy, don’t cha think? You don’t have the luxury of going about any old way you please. Too many people are counting on you.”

  She watched his temper flash in his eyes before he rounded the bed to get in her face. “And what about you? So what if you’re not royalty. You’re just as important. What kind of ruler would I be if I let other people get killed when I could avoid it?”

  “You’d be a smart one.” Joan planted her hands on her hips and squared off with him. “It’s not like I have anything left to lose.

  Not like you do.”

  “What are you talking about? You have plenty to lose. I won’t have you ruin your life with a jail sentence following you everywhere. You could lose your job. Something I gather would be devastating.”

  “I’ve already lost my job. At least if I go to jail, I’ll have a roof over my head.”

  Tom jerked back like she’d slapped him. “You sound like it’s already happened.”

  “That’s ‘cause it has.” Joan forced herself to calm down. Her head was starting to pound again and she was pretty sure Tom didn’t have a twin, but it didn’t stop her from seeing two of him.

  “What do you mean it has? You haven’t missed that much work yet? You must have a vacation day or something you can use for today. Yesterday.”

  “I work…worked for a bookkeeping firm. They can’t have accused bank robbers on their payroll. They left me a message when they heard about this on the news.”

  “How ludicrous. I’ll talk to them.”

  “No, you won’t. You’ll tell the cops who you are and explain what happened so they can straighten this out. Once they do, I’ll be cleared and able to look for another job.”

  Great. And now the room was starting to spin. Joan put a hand to her forehead and swayed a bit on her feet. Tom reached out a steadying hand, but she was past that point. Joan toppled to the bed taking him with her.

  ****

  So Tom had fantasized about having Joan’s soft, voluptuous body under his, but it had never happened quite this way. In his mind, there’d been sweet kisses and roaming hands. In his dreams, she’d be gazing at him through passion-‐-filled eyes. In none of those scenarios were her lids screwed tightly shut nor her lips pursed with pain.

  “Joan, talk to me. What hurts?”

  Tom shifted off of her and sat back on his haunches. He winced at the ache in his hip, but remained focused on her. All he could think about was seeing her slam to the roof of his car when they’d dropped the last time.

  “Listing what doesn’t would take less time.” Her flip response told him she would be okay and lessened his worry a bit.

  He crawled over her and straightened out his aching leg with a sigh of relief. When he raised his palm from the bed, one of the aspirin he’d given her earlier was stuck to it.

  “You didn’t take anything?”

  “I was going to.” He found the pill container and the unopened water bottle nestled in the covers while she eased to a more comfortable position on the bed.

  “Give me your hand,” Tom commanded then poured another dose of pills into her waiting palm. He opened the water and watched her take the painkillers before taking a dose himself.

  He could feel her gaze on him while he polished off the last of the water. The little thrill he got from knowing her lips had just been on that same piece of plastic was more than ridiculous.

  “The moment we’re good enough to move, we’re going to the cops.” Did the woman never give up? He put the aspirin within easy reach on the night table and chucked the empty water bottle into the trashcan.

  “Let’s worry about that later.” He eased down beside her and got under the covers. He stretched to turn off the light by the bed and grimaced. He was starting to feel his aches and pains. He twisted to look at her, wrapped in the thin sheet from the bed.

  “You’re gonna freeze.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Stop being stubborn and get under the covers.”
r />   “You’re not king yet. And even if you were, I’m not one of your subjects.”

  Tom bristled at her tone. She was right. If she were one of his subjects, she wouldn’t dare speak to him with such disrespect.

  “Why are you fighting me on this? It’s for your own comfort.” He rose up on an elbow to look at her. “Or are you just one of those people who likes an argument?”

  She glared at him. He didn’t need more light than what streamed through the curtains from the parking lot to see she’d raised an eyebrow like she always did when annoyed. He could feel the hostility rolling off of her in waves. Without another word, she rolled enough to turn down her side of the bed and wiggle in.

  When he tried to hold the covers for her, she smacked his hands away. Once she got settled again, she huffed, “No funny business.”

  “Sweetheart, I wouldn’t dream of it,” he lied and rolled to his side facing away from her. He knew his dreams would consist of nothing else.

  Chapter Twelve

  An incessant tapping dragged Tom out of a deep, contented sleep. He missed his bed at the palace and that’s where he’d been in his dream. Joan had been with him. His arms were snuggled around her and his hand splayed across her rounded belly which kicked him even while she slept. She never opened her eyes until two tiny versions of themselves burst in demanding attention from mommy and daddy. He had no idea if he should enjoy or be freaked out by the fantasy because that stupid pounding would not go away.

  Tom pried his eyes open and looked around the room with a sleep blurred gaze. The pounding continued. He made a move to sit up, but couldn’t. Joan was draped across his chest and his arms held her in place. He wanted to take a moment to enjoy their closeness, but the pounding continued. The door. Someone was at the door. The thought solidified when the last of the haze cleared from his sleepy brain.

  Getting up without disturbing Joan was impossible. Even if every muscle in his body didn’t hurt. Given his current aches, he did the best he could without jarring her too much. Her eyes opened and she gave him a confused look while trying to make sense of their proximity.