The Accidental Princess

by Michelle Willingham

  ‘Trying to kill me, more like,’ he admitted.

  She froze, her hands falling away. Her complexion paled, and she clenched her fingertips. ‘Do you really believe that?’

  ‘It’s not the first time someone has tried to do so,’ he admitted. ‘Usually it was someone on the opposite side of the battlefield.’ Reaching out for one of her hands, he asked, ‘Are you afraid he’ll come after you as well?’

  Her hand was cool within his, and she swallowed, as if trying to find her courage. ‘Would you protect me if he did?’

  His lips curved slightly. ‘What do you think?’

  She didn’t answer, but tried to pull her hand back. He retrieved the damp handkerchief and touched the raw skin at his throat again.

  Hannah stopped him, her hand bumping against his. ‘Wait. You’re missing it.’

  Without asking permission, she loosened his collar, untying his cravat to reveal his skin.

  Though the water was probably cold, he hardly felt the temperature. Instead, he was intensely aware of Hannah standing between his legs, her hands upon his skin. He was growing aroused, just being near her. The green gown she wore accentuated the swell of her breasts, the curve of her waist. But it was her innocence that was even more alluring. She didn’t seem to understand what her simple touch was doing to him.

  Awkwardly, she dabbed at his flesh, her lower lip caught between her teeth as though trying to overcome her distaste for blood. He held himself motionless, willing himself not to respond.

  ‘Why would anyone want to kill you?’ she asked. A slight shiver crossed over her before she studied his skin, searching for any other wounds.

  He didn’t answer, offering a shrug.

  ‘Someone believes it’s true,’ she murmured. ‘That you have royal blood.’

  Michael didn’t acknowledge her guess, though he agreed with her prediction. There was no other reason for anyone to kill him.

  ‘Fairy tales aren’t true, Hannah. A common soldier doesn’t simply become a Prince.’

  He could smell the faint scent of jasmine, and when she’d finished washing his throat, she kept her hands upon his shoulders. ‘Unless he already was a Prince. And didn’t know it.’

  Catching her wrists, Michael drew her hands away. ‘Don’t do this, Hannah.’

  Confusion clouded her gaze. Then abruptly, she seemed to grasp his meaning. Her face coloured, first with embarrassment, then anger.

  ‘Were you trying to make a fool of me?’ she demanded. ‘Bidding a thousand pounds for a handkerchief?’

  He kept his mouth shut, with no intention of explaining himself.

  ‘You made them believe that we were lovers. That I’d given myself to you.’

  ‘Is that what you’re doing?’ He stood up so suddenly that her hands fell away.

  He needed her to realise that she was tempting the devil, whether or not she intended to do so. Possibly frighten her a little, so she wouldn’t risk coming too close.

  ‘You had no right to blemish my reputation before all of those people,’ she whispered. ‘I left London to start over again. And now they are talking about us.’ She stepped backwards, her hands clenched.

  He stared hard at her, willing her to see the truth. ‘You don’t want your freedom as much as you think you do. You like the rules you pretend to despise.’

  She held still, like a wild animal about to flee. ‘You don’t understand.’

  ‘I understand perfectly.’ He closed the distance, resting his hands on the wall behind her. ‘You want it both ways, don’t you? You want them to believe you’re a lady, when you secretly desire something else.’

  ‘No. That’s not it.’ She shielded herself with her arms, hugging them to her chest.

  He let his hands slide down to her small waist, feeling the tightness of her corset beneath the gown. ‘Why did you bid on the pocket watch?’

  She looked guilty. ‘Because I didn’t want the women treating you that way. Like a piece of meat fought over by dogs.’

  ‘I don’t care about what other people think of me.’

  ‘Perhaps you should.’ Her breath hitched when his hands slid up her spine once more. ‘You’re not at all the man you pretend to be.’

  ‘I’m the kind of man you shouldn’t be alone with.’ Lowering his mouth to her chin, he let his mouth nip the edge of her flesh. He tasted the light sweetness of sherry upon her mouth and waited for her to strike out at him. The kiss made her tremble, but again, she didn’t order him to leave.

  Instead, her eyes filled with indecision, almost as if she were considering letting him ruin her.

  ‘You’d better find that candlestick,’ he warned. ‘Or I won’t be responsible for what happens. I’m going to take that forfeit now.’

  ‘You would never harm me,’ she whispered. To emphasise her prediction, she rested her palms upon his heart. The slight touch made the muscle contract faster within his chest.

  He wasn’t quite so confident. Just being near her, touching her in this way, was making it difficult to concentrate.

  Her scent was shredding his restraint, and he realized she was waiting for him to act. Her mouth was softened, slightly open in anticipation. But he didn’t take her offering. Not yet.

  He pressed his mouth to her throat, kissing a path down to her exposed collarbone. She shuddered in his arms, not offering a single protest.

  The taste of her skin, the way her palms moved up to cup his neck…he wasn’t certain he would be able to stop if she let things go much further.

  Michael removed his gloves, letting them fall to the floor. His hands moved to the back of her gown, unbuttoning the first few buttons. ‘This isn’t part of the forfeit any more.’ He grazed her shoulder with his teeth, kissing the soft place and evoking a sigh from her throat. ‘Order me to leave.’

  One word, and he would go. She could lie in her nightdress tonight and imagine the things he wanted to do to her. But she would remain untouched.

  ‘I’m going to take my forfeit, too,’ she whispered. ‘You’re going to make me forget all the rules.’

  Deliberately, she caressed his head, bringing her hands back down to his shoulders. Her touch made his body tighten with a greater frustration.

  He unfastened another three buttons, baring more silken skin, before tilting her face to look at him. Her body had been touched by no other man, he was certain. Only him.

  He didn’t know why she was letting him take such liberties, but he suspected she wasn’t thinking clearly. ‘Do you want another kiss as your forfeit from me?’

  She inhaled sharply when his bare palm touched her back. ‘Yes.’

  He smiled against her mouth and guided her to sit down. He knelt down at her feet, reaching for her ankles.

  ‘Wh-what are you doing?’ She held down her skirts, her face pale.

  ‘I’m going to kiss you, all right.’ Michael slid his hands up her calves, his palms caressing the silken stockings. ‘But you never said where.’

  ‘No. That’s not what I meant. I wasn’t intending for you to—to ruin me.’

  ‘I’m not going to ruin you, sweet. I’m going to pleasure you. Unless you’re too afraid?’

  She had gone so pale, her fingers dug into the arms of the chair. And though it was painful to stop this wicked game, he started to draw back. His desire for her was strained to the breaking point, so it was probably for the best.

  She shocked him by bringing his mouth to hers. Against his lips, she whispered, ‘I’m more terrified than I’ve ever been in my life. But I don’t want you to stop.’

  God forgive him for what he was about to do. Michael took her mouth hard, kissing her roughly. He pulled her body tightly to his, letting her legs fall open around his waist. Her shoulders rose and fell as she struggled to catch her breath. To ease her, he unlaced more of her corset.

  ‘But what if someone comes—?’

  He kissed another bit of revealed skin, swirling his tongue over it. ‘The risk makes it more arousing.’
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  She shivered in his arms, and he could almost hear the second thoughts racing through her mind. ‘I shouldn’t let you do this. I know it’s wrong.’

  ‘But it feels good to you.’

  She lowered her head, as if in surrender. ‘Yes. And I’m beginning to wonder what I have left to lose.’

  ‘You would lose far too much.’ He took her hands, lifting them to her bodice. Her palms cupped her own breasts, and he held them in place, forcing her to touch herself the way he wanted to.

  Though her nipples were beneath the heavy corset, he knew her mind was imagining the sensation.

  ‘You’re tempting me down a path I should never tread.’

  ‘I’m a sinner. I live for temptation.’

  Hannah leaned back against him, letting him guide her hands. It was hard to breathe, the room swimming in heady sensations.

  She never should have let Michael enter her room. Her mother’s warnings haunted her, but she couldn’t bring herself to step away. Not yet.

  This forbidden pleasure coursed through her, for she’d never been touched like this before. She didn’t even know such feelings existed. Her body was hot, the skin fiery and unbearably sensitive. Between her legs, she felt empty, swollen and aching. And yet she knew that, regardless of what he said, Michael would stop at any time she asked.

  He might be a man who neglected the rules of propriety when it suited him, but beneath it all he possessed an unfailing honour.

  With her last vestiges of control, she pushed him back, away from the chair. She stood, needing to know whether she was making the right choice to be with him tonight.

  As she’d expected, he held back from her, his face expressionless. The black cloth jacket fitted his broad shoulders perfectly, the evening clothes making him even more handsome. In the lamplight, his hazel eyes were nearly black, heated with desire.

  Someone had tried to kill him tonight, yet he gave no indication of being afraid. She supposed soldiers were accustomed to the risk of death. But if someone had just tried to murder her, she would be a sobbing mess.

  His strong will and courage intrigued her. Tempted her in ways she didn’t understand.

  ‘Michael?’ she whispered. She’d never used his first name before, always distancing him with his rank.

  ‘What?’

  Touch me again. Kiss me. She didn’t say it, the words caught up in a trap of her own morals. And yet, she didn’t want him to leave, as he surely would.

  She didn’t know what was coming over her. Perhaps it was the wine. Perhaps her desire to make her own decisions. All she knew was that she didn’t want to be alone.

  ‘What if…I asked you for more than a kiss?’

  Michael held so very still, she wondered if she’d made a grave mistake. Her cheeks burned with embarrassment as the silence stretched longer.

  ‘I’m not the right man for you, Hannah. I can’t ever marry you.’

  His honesty was meant to quell her desire. But she’d always known there could be no future for them. And he didn’t love her, either.

  ‘I know that,’ she heard herself saying. ‘It’s not what I want from you.’ She held her posture erect, as though it would keep her sensibilities from crumbling. What would it matter if she let him kiss her, let him show her the mysteries of a forbidden liaison? Her reputation was already in shambles.

  She stood an arm’s length from him, but an invitation rested in the space between them. Michael took a step closer, until she could feel the warmth of his breath upon her forehead. The physical closeness of him turned her thoughts erratic.

  Her body tingled, imagining his body atop hers. Never in her life had she known such an experience. The weight of her gown upon her breasts, the heavy skirts covering her legs…It made her uncomfortable, as if too many layers separated them.

  He caught her palm and grazed it with a slight kiss. ‘You’re not yourself.’

  ‘You’re right.’ She pulled his hand to her cheek, not caring that it was wrong. The need to rebel was rising higher with each moment. ‘I have exactly fifteen hours to not be myself. Before we leave this ship.’

  His hand drifted to her back, and she felt his bare palm upon her skin. He loosened a few more buttons, sliding his hand beneath the back of her gown.

  This was her last chance to say no. Did she want to ruin herself with a soldier? With a man who had no future and could not take care of her? With a man who made her heart beat like the wings of a hummingbird?

  Yes.

  Hannah reached out and rested her hands upon his evening jacket, tracing the breadth of his shoulders. Before she could talk herself out of it, she lifted her mouth to his in a defiant kiss. He tasted of champagne and a hint of almonds.

  That was the last thought in her mind before he took command. He pressed her against the wall, his hot kiss possessing her with no chance of escape. She was aware of his hands unbuttoning the rest of her gown. In turn, she removed his jacket, untying the cravat.

  ‘I loathe women’s fashion,’ Michael gritted out. Despite her layers of skirts, he managed to reach beneath them to untie a few of the petticoats, and divest her of the heavy crinoline. Without the weight to support her gown, the fabric hung down. She felt small, completely at his mercy. He undressed her, each piece falling away until she was standing in her undergarments.

  The reality of her decision hit her like a bucket of freezing water. Why was she casting aside all of her inhibitions, everything she’d been taught, for a man who had already admitted he could give her no future?

  He is nothing, her mind insisted.

  He is everything, her body contradicted. Only hours ago, someone had tried to kill him. The thought of losing this man, when she’d only just begun to know him, crept into the spaces of her heart, making her ache. And tonight, he belonged to her.

  The war between her body’s needs and her mind’s agonising control was growing even hotter.

  His tongue slipped inside her mouth, and her breasts grew taut as though he’d kissed the nipples. Between her thighs, she grew moist, and Hannah shifted her legs together. No one had ever prepared her for this, and she was too afraid to ask him what was happening.

  Michael extinguished the lamp, flooding the cabin in darkness. ‘Come here,’ he urged, taking her hand. He guided her towards him, and when she realised he was seated in the chair, he pulled her onto his lap.

  Her womanhood was intimately pressed against the hard length of his arousal, with only her drawers and his trousers as a barrier. She clung to him, her fingers pressed against his hair.

  In the darkness, her skin became even more sensitised. She didn’t know what he would do next, and it both excited and terrified her.

  Michael slid his hands into her hair once again, and the pins scattered across the wooden floor. His fingers spread through the silken locks while he kissed her.

  Her hands rested upon his chest, and he sensed her desire to touch. He loosened his shirt, moving her hands beneath the cambric. His pectoral muscles were rigid, his pulse rapid. Bare skin warmed her fingertips, and her bravado was beginning to disappear.

  ‘Are you certain you want this?’ he murmured, kissing her deeply.

  When he broke free, she couldn’t answer, not knowing what she should say. Things had already progressed too far, hadn’t they? Her silence weighed down upon his question.

  She wanted him. But was the cost too great?

  When his hand moved between her legs, she shivered. His fingers moved to the thin drawers, and she flushed, knowing that he could feel the wetness dampening the cloth. She didn’t understand why, and it embarrassed her.

  ‘I know you’re afraid of me.’ His voice was deep, the rich timbre making her quiver.

  ‘A little,’ she confessed. ‘I don’t know what to do.’

  His hand moved against her woman’s flesh, arousing her. ‘Surrender to me, Hannah. And let me touch you the way I’ve dreamed.’

  She didn’t know what he meant by that until his thumb r
ubbed a small nub above her entrance. A harsh cry caught in the back of her throat, and she forced herself not to moan. With a soft rhythm, he nudged it, sending a shock of warmth spiralling into her womb.

  Though she wanted to pull away, she couldn’t bring herself to move.

  ‘You’re beautiful, Hannah.’ He leaned her back, nuzzling her throat as he increased the rhythm. ‘If I could, I’d be inside you right now.’

  Was that what happened between a man and a woman? She could feel the hard length of his manhood against her inner thigh. The thought of him entering her body conjured a response that made her even wetter. He teased the moisture, using the fabric to abrade her sensitive node.

  Hannah fought against the rising wave of pleasure that threatened to drown her. He dipped his finger slightly, caressing the opening of her womanhood.

  ‘I don’t understand,’ she admitted, her face burning with discomfort. ‘How could you be inside me?’

  She’d never been taught anything about lovemaking, and she half-wondered if this touching was what husbands and wives did. Somehow, she suspected not. It felt like forbidden temptation, to experience such desire.

  He brought her hand to his trousers, letting her feel the firm length straining beneath the cloth. She was startled at the thickness of him, the hard ridge of male flesh.

  ‘This part of me would slide deep inside you,’ he said gruffly. His hand moved beneath her drawers to her feminine centre. He dipped his hand against her sensitive flesh, inserting a single finger to demonstrate. ‘When you’re wet, it makes it easier for both of us.’

  He captured her mouth again, using his fingers to stroke her. Before she could beg him to understand the unfamiliar longings, something unexpected began to break through. Her breathing quickened, her back arching out of instinct.

  His hand rubbed faster without warning, crumbling away her inhibitions until a hot, piercing sensation pushed her closer to the edge. Then abruptly, he slowed the pace, deepening the pressure.

  ‘Let go for me, Hannah.’

  She was fighting against the maddening heat building up. Her inner thighs were silken, craving more.

  Without warning, pleasure rammed into her, making her writhe against his hand. Never had she felt anything like this before. He rode his palm against her centre, until she was trembling with aftershocks.