by VJ Dunraven
“Of course, not!” She scowled. “I was just wondering. Everyone knows you and her are—”
“Are what?”
“It.”
“Really?” He wrinkled his eyebrows. “As far as I know, you and I are.”
“What?”
“It.”
“Stop mimicking me.” She glowered at him. “We both know I'm not in your league.”
“Who cares?” he cupped her face in his hands and looked into her eyes.
Elizabeth pulled away and turned her back to him.
“I do,” she said over her shoulder. “Don't kid about things like that. It's not funny.” She clamped her mouth shut, though she wanted to say so much more. Like tell him she wished she were a Princess; rich, sophisticated, and beautiful, absolutely deserving of him. But she wasn't any of those things. What could she possibly offer him? What would his family think of a girl like her? The daughter of a single mother who never knew her father, who has no status, no means, not even a permanent address! Her situation was simply laughable. If she let herself fall for him, she was either crazy, stupid, or both. Her resolve hardened.
The Prince sensed her mood had changed. She was on her guard again, not giving in to her emotions, pushing him away. He had been contemplating on telling her about their shared destiny during this visit, but had quickly realized that she wasn't ready for such a big revelation. She had panicked at the mere insinuation of his intentions towards her—what more if he'd told her the entire story?
Somehow, he knew he couldn't rush her. He must earn her trust first and foremost, woo her some more, let her attachment to him grow, until she surrendered and allowed herself to love him unconditionally. Only then, could he truly share everything and not run the risk of losing her and her confidence.
Oh, well—, if only he had all the time in the world to do all that, he sighed.
“Come here.” He stepped closer behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders, pulling her back against his chest.
In the gentlest voice he whispered, “I want you to know that I really—, really like you.” He lowered his head and pressed his cheek against her temple. “Do you think you might like me too?”
He felt her tense. “Yes, but—”
“You do?”
She swiveled to look up at him with large blue-violet eyes. “Y-Yes, but that's not—”
“Uh-huh.” He shook his head and gave her a radiant smile. “You can't take it back.” He leaned his forehead against hers and gazed into her eyes. Then without warning, he picked her up and spun her in a joyful circle. By the time he set her down, they were both laughing. Elizabeth held on to his arms to steady herself. “You got me all dizzy,” she giggled with a slight wobble.
He chuckled and embraced her tightly, glad that her good mood had returned. “I have that effect on women.” He laughed, when she crinkled her nose at him, and flinched, when she playfully pinched him on the side.
Elizabeth's resolve to not be further involved with the Prince had lasted less than five minutes and she knew it. She could never resist him; much less fight her feelings for him. In all honesty, she did like him—, way too much, it scared her.
“Let me show you the opposite wing.”
They walked over to the right side where they passed a living area with plush sofas facing a giant flat screen TV. He led her through another set of double doors. “This is my bedroom.” He stood aside to let her enter.
An enormous bed sat in the middle against a wall, immaculately made up with the whitest bed covers and pillows. Large windows with flowing white drapery lined an entire wall.
“What do you think?”
“It's huge.” She glanced around. The windows and two archways opened into more rooms beyond the far wall set a lounging area. “What's in there?”
“The bathroom.” He took her hand and led her to a spacious room with a tub that could probably fit a small family, complete with a large flat screen TV installed on the opposite wall. The shower room was encased in glass and a long granite vanity and mirror was built on one side.
“That leads to my dressing room.” He indicated an archway that opened into what looked like a walk-in closet. A wardrobe wrapped along three walls. Elizabeth saw that it also connected to the bedroom through one of the archways she noticed earlier.
The Prince straightened. “My cousins are here.”
“Excuse me?” Elizabeth looked around, but they were alone.
Just then, she heard the double doors to the bedroom open.
“Come, I want you to meet them.” He guided her towards the archway connecting to the bedroom.
“There you are!” the twins exclaimed in unison, meeting them halfway. They each gave him a hug and a kiss on both cheeks.
“These are my cousins from Switzerland. Princess Sophia and Princess Silvia.” The Prince turned his attention from the girls to the tall, handsome young men behind them, who looked very much like him. “From Belgium, Prince David, and Spain, Prince Philippe.”
“I'm honored to meet you, Y-your Highnesses.” Elizabeth suddenly felt overwhelmed, or more likely was in a state of Royal shock like what Ben had said the other day.
The Prince seemed to notice her nervousness because he placed an arm around her shoulders and pulled her to his side. “And this—,” he reassured her with a smile before turning to his cousins, “is my Elizabeth.”
His cousins regarded her with curious yellow-green eyes. Elizabeth felt the onslaught of a major shyness attack. It didn't help that the Prince had introduced her as his, which gave the impression that they were together. But even so, her heart leapt with joy at the possibility.
“Hello, Elizabeth!” One of the girls hugged her, as if they've known each other for ages. “Do you want to see our townhouse?”
Her warmth and cheerfulness calmed Elizabeth's anxiety. She immediately liked her. “Sure! I mean, I'll be happy to see it, Your Highness.”
“Call me Sophia.” She grinned. “That's what all my friends call me.”
“And call me Silvia,” the other twin joined in.
Elizabeth looked from one to the other.
“Silvia wears a gold pendant.” Sophia seemed to read her confusion. “That's how you figure out who's who.”
“Go ahead, go with the girls,” the Prince interjected. “David, Philippe and I must attend to some business. I'll see you later.”
“Okay,” she mumbled with slight disappointment. How could she be missing him already?
After Prince David and Prince Philippe expressed their delight in meeting her, they excused themselves and followed the Prince.
Princess Sophia and Princess Silvia clung to her arms on either side as they made their way out.
“I'm glad William brought you here,” Sophia said. “He's such a sweetheart, don't you think?”
“Uh, yeah,” Elizabeth replied, caught off guard. She surely didn't expect this eager reception from his cousins. She'd imagined they would look down their Royal noses at her in disapproval.
“We love him to pieces,” Princess Silvia said.
“How was he your cousin?” Elizabeth asked.
“The Queen, his mother, is our mother's sister,” Silvia replied.
“And so are David and Philippe's mothers,” Sophia added. “We're all first cousins.”
“The four of us grew up with William. We probably spent more time in England visiting him more than anywhere else. He's an only child so he was very lonely and practically adopted all of us as his own brothers and sisters,” Silvia added.
“I understand,” Elizabeth replied. “I'm an only child too. Growing up, I used to wish I had siblings to play with.”
“Well, we're glad to have finally met you. You have us now,” Sophia said, as they entered the house beyond the courtyard where they were staying. “Welcome to our home away from home.”
A block away from the massive gates of the Prince's estate, Colonel Alec Gunter sat inside his SUV. He had followed the Prince's
car when they departed from the yellow cottage, curious of their destination. He was bewildered to find that the Prince had taken Elizabeth to the Palladian, a fortress-like estate, which serves as his second home whenever he traveled to America.
Known to be extremely cautious of his privacy, the property was well guarded. The fact that he'd invited a Tainted girl he'd only known for a short time was completely out of character.
His jaw clenched. Elizabeth was in there, out of his sight. What were they doing? Was she alone with the Prince? Was she safe? He swiftly smothered the direction of his thoughts. Discipline, Gunter! He reminded himself. Prioritize your mission first, personal matters last.
The Colonel pulled the sun visor down and donned his eye shields to block the intensifying morning sun. He glanced at the heavily tinted car parked several meters before him. Whoever was driving the vehicle had been following the Prince. He was certain that they were not human for they didn't carry that distinct human scent.
He'd noticed the unknown four-man surveillance team the first instance Prince William visited Elizabeth. At the time, he assumed they were the Prince's private escorts, but his suspicions grew upon closer inspection.
Aside from the fact that their vehicle was not the usual military issue, they weren't wearing official Royal Army uniforms. He knew they were aware of his presence, but they kept their distance, silently watching. It seemed that like him, the men assumed he was the Prince's private escort.
He took advantage of this lack of immediate threat by gathering information. The data he'd transmitted to his intelligence unit in England included surveillance photos of their car and the unknown men.
A sense of foreboding gnawed him. Who sent them? Were they interested in the Prince or was it Elizabeth they were after?
Chapter 35
On Pride, Saving One’s Self
And Falling in Love
Prince William stood by the window of his bedroom, waiting for Elizabeth to return from her visit with the twins. He smiled to himself. The introductions had gone well and his cousins seemed to like her.
He glanced at his watch. It had been three hours since he last saw her and already, he couldn't wait to have her back. He wished he could've spent time with her, but his obligations were pressing.
He raked his fingers through his hair, remembering his father’s reaction the last time they spoke. The King wasn't pleased with his extended stay in America. He was concerned that their enemies might discover his true purpose and compromise everyone's safety. That, and the disruption of his duties to the hierarchy his absence had caused, didn't sit well with the Monarch.
He glanced at the schedule his assistant had left on the side table. Every day, as his untended tasks stacked higher, the King became more and more displeased. So, the Prince arranged for his work to be forwarded to America to appease his father.
He sighed and stared blankly at the huge old tree in front of his window. The idea reduced his load, but it also took his time away from Elizabeth. He could barely manage to go to Darian Hall to see her.
Luckily, his cousins took it upon themselves to entertain her while he was busy, and thankfully, Sophia's advice worked. Elizabeth had warmed up to him quickly, and hopefully, she would consent to come with him regularly. The only way for both of them to get to know each other better and woo her into coming with him to England was if he could spend more time with her. And that could be accomplished if she was within the vicinity.
He exhaled a heavy breath. In spite of the fact that he could read minds, his ability to do so was useless when it comes to Elizabeth. Her outward reaction to him puzzled him. He could clearly hear her thoughts and confirm her heart yearns for him as much as he yearns for her, and yet she fights it out of fear and insecurity, traits he suspected she’d developed from living with humans for far too long. As to why Mortals think of one thing then do the exact opposite, remains a mystery—, a behavior he has to learn how to deal with, if he wanted to understand and gain Elizabeth’s trust.
Prince William turned from the window at the familiar scent and sound that never failed to rouse his senses. He heard a few taps before the door opened.
“Miss Elizabeth Hamilton, Your Highness,” his house manager announced as they entered.
He dismissed him and crossed the bedroom to meet her halfway. “Did you have fun with the girls?”
“Yes, they are really nice,” she replied with such gladness in her eyes upon seeing him that his heart lurched.
“Missed me?” He reached out to tuck a wayward curl behind her ear.
She hesitated, and then nodded shyly, blushing profusely.
He gathered her in his arms and buried his face in her hair. Ever since his cousins pointed out his inappropriate behavior towards her, he'd been limiting his displays of physical affection. He had forbidden himself from kissing her in his apprehension that he might scare her away, but it had been sheer torture. He couldn't hold back any more.
Slowly, he lowered his lips and touched them lightly to hers. “I missed you too,” he murmured against her mouth and waited, giving her the chance to withdraw. She said his name in a breathless whisper, but didn't draw back.
He kissed her hungrily at once. His pent-up frustration could no longer be contained. He needed her. He wanted her. And when she parted her lips to welcome him, he couldn't restrain himself. In a single movement, he swept her up in his arms and strode swiftly to his bed. He laid her down gently, climbing next to her, never once releasing her mouth from his kiss.
Elizabeth felt the cool sheets on her back, the urgency in his touch, the intensifying rise and fall of his chest. She closed her eyes. She was giddy, intoxicated with his cologne, drowning and burning at the same time, if that was even possible. Her reasoning seemed to have left her for she knew that they were threading on dangerous ground. Yet, here she was, lying with him in his bed, lost in his fervent kiss.
She felt his hands beneath her. A small snap sounded, but she was too distracted to even consider what it was. He left her mouth and trailed tiny kisses along her jaw line. The feathery touch of his lips made her insides quiver and her breathing quickened. As he continued his path down her throat, a blissful moan escaped her lips.
A surge of fire inflamed her core. She didn't want him to stop. Everything felt foreign, but exhilarating. She wanted more. Feeling a little braver, she tangled her fingers into his thick dark hair, something she'd only dreamt about, until now.
Her caress elicited a deep masculine growl and before she knew it, his hands had slipped underneath her sweater. Startled, she opened her eyes and breathed his name. He responded with a low, muffled hmmm against the sensitive juncture between her neck and shoulder.
In the meantime, his hands were exploring farther than she was willing to allow. She began to protest, but he simply deflected her objections with another passionate kiss. And in spite of her apprehension, the delicious sensations his ardent lips created gushed forth and swept away her scruples.
Meanwhile, the pleasure his fingers elicited as they glided on her bare skin was escalating to a perilous degree. Every trail he touched came alive and tingled, raising goose bumps along the way. She threw her head back as his mouth slid down her throat. She was inebriated, consumed in excited anticipation.
His actions quickly became bolder and riskier. Warning alarms sounded in her head. She knew it would be more difficult to turn back with each passing second. The Prince was no teenage boy with raging hormones, but rather a man who knew exactly what he wanted and how to get it. Even as she battled with herself with this sudden awareness, she belatedly realized that he had unclasped her bra, and was now deftly brushing it aside.
“William!” she gasped, clutching his biceps as his hands wandered into sacred territory. He lazily lifted his head and gazed at her with smoldering silver eyes, heavy lidded with desire, and devastatingly gorgeous. “P-please.” She placed her palms against his chest, pushing him firmly, “I-I don't think, I'm ready—”
He sighed and reluctantly withdrew his hands from under her sweater. “You've never done this before?” he asked, and then amended his question when she gaped at him in horror. “I meant, making out, not—, you know what I mean.”
She frantically shook her head. “No, I never—, this is my first time,” she replied with a mixture of embarrassment and pride, although she wasn't sure why she should be ashamed when saving herself was a cool thing to do, in her opinion. And as far as pride went, well, she was proud to survive high school in one piece.
“Yes, I remember you told me you never had a boyfriend, but ... not even a casual fling?”
“Never!” Elizabeth cried indignantly. “You make it sound so ... so—”
“Casual?” His mouth quirked.
“Careless. I don't do things like that.”
“Like what? Like what we were just doing?”
Elizabeth felt her face turn crimson. God, what exactly have they been doing? Mental flashbacks of his passionate kisses and expert hands inundated her. Did she just let him touch her ... there? She gulped, mortified, self-consciously crossing her arms across her chest, unable to look at him. She felt like a complete hypocrite. How humiliating! He must think she was some easy girl. She suddenly felt dirty, violated, and altogether cheap. The threat of tears pricked behind her eyes as she arched her back and fumbled with her bra hooks.
He exhaled heavily and rolled away, collapsing next to her on the pillow with an arm over his brow. For the next few minutes, he kept quiet.
Damn it! Prince William chided himself. What was he thinking? She was young and inexperienced. He should have known better.
He turned sideways to look at her. Her flame-colored hair fanned over his white sheets, her magnificent eyes darkened to a deep violet. The rich flush on her cheeks made her look more innocent than ever. Devil take him, but she was beautiful. Who the hell could blame him?
“I think I want to go home now,” she croaked, sitting up and smoothing her sweater.
“Why?” He propped himself on an elbow.
“Nothing, I—,” she averted her face and sniffled, “I just want to.” She swiped the back of her hand on the corner of her eye. A small hiccup and more sniffling followed.