What emergency pulled him home?
My gut fluttered as I thought about the first tentative steps we’d taken. My skin heated and burned while I trailed my fingers over my body, imagining they were him. But my ill-fated attempts to force my pleasure only left me needing for him more.
My footsteps thundered in the stillness that hung everywhere. I tried all the rooms, searching for a spot that didn’t feel lonely. Even the tub with bubbles failed to soothe the ache I felt.
I missed Richard.
I missed his touch. The passion of his kisses and the sternness of his tone when he commanded me to kneel were constant partners in my dreams. I missed lowering down to please him. I missed hours of clawing at the sheets while he brought me to heights of pleasure I never knew existed.
Instead of studying, I combed the Internet and found hundreds of articles about dominance and submission and all manner of things associated with them. The one night we’d spent together barely scratched the surface of what others had experienced, but it’d left an indelible mark on my soul. I wanted to explore the desires burning within me. Richard would be my guide, coaching, leading, and becoming the pillar of strength I sorely needed him to be.
With each passing day, my yearning intensified. The desire to see, touch, and breathe him deep into my soul became a constant ache.
As Friday approached, my excitement brimmed to overflowing. Now, here I was bouncing on my feet, impatiently watching Mark load our suitcases into the back of the car.
Richard and I would soon be together, but I worried. I hadn’t heard from him since he left.
The first account of the Prince of Wales’s accident had been on the front page of a smattering of magazines on a sidewalk vendor’s display on Tuesday. Since then, speculation had run through print, television, and even Internet sites. The palace remained quiet on the state of his health. The royal family had been seen going in and out of the hospital where rumor said Prince Edmund was a patient. I had seen the haggard expression on Richard’s face. Maybe I’d read too much into what I saw, but he wore the same mask of grief I knew all too well.
Class had gotten out at one, and by five, Mark and I were heading over the Atlantic. I unfolded a blanket and spread it over my lap. I didn’t think it was possible to arrive well rested, but I planned to try. I didn’t want the specter of fatigue to ruin the few hours Richard and I would share.
With the time change, we arrived early Saturday morning, London time. I still had no direct access to Richard, but Mark assured me I would see him later that night. Despite catching some sleep, it surprised me how exhausted I felt. Not good.
In my years abroad, the one country I had never been to was England. My travels had brought me to Italy, Germany, Spain, France, and Greece. Mostly, I’d stayed where the temperatures were warm, the waters crystal clear, and where I could rub shoulders with others who were rich like me. Correction, rich like I had once been.
While I thought I’d check into a hotel, Mark took me to what he described was one of Richard’s private residences. I didn’t fail to catch that this was merely one of many. The well-appointed townhouse took up half of a block. I expected armed guards out front, but if there was security, I couldn’t find them. Cameras pointed down all around the entrances, and our driver pulled through a covered entrance to a courtyard out back where we unloaded.
A butler approached. “Miss Cartwright, welcome to Templeton Place.”
“Thank you,” I said, a little overwhelmed.
He led me through the opulent estate, full of old-world charm and intermixed with modern touches, and up a sweeping staircase until we reached a suite of rooms.
“Your rooms.” He gestured for me to enter ahead of him and then gave a brief tour of the four-room suite. “His Royal Highness will be here later tonight. Until then, you are free to do as you wish. Templeton is equipped with a library, if that pleases you, and I left the Internet passcode on the nightstand beside your bed.”
“Thank you,” I said, stunned by the linen-coated walls, the falls of silk cascading down the windows, and the carved dark wood of the dresser, nightstands, and canopy bed. This was a place for a princess, not a washed-up Southern belle.
While late morning local time, my body insisted it was still the middle of the night. With a short weekend ahead of me, I didn’t know if it would be best to accommodate to local time or keep to New York time. With the amount of yawning I was doing, a nap sounded divine.
“If you need anything, you may ring,” the butler explained. “Any of the staff can assist you.”
“I think I’ll take a short nap.”
“As you wish. I’ll let the staff know.”
“Thank you.”
During that entire exchange, he never once introduced himself. If I wanted to head out of my room and ask for help, I’d have to shout, Hey you! Surprising for a butler not to give his name. Maybe my status had been measured, weighed, and found lacking? I was an American girl flown in for a booty call. What did that make me?
I needed to process that.
In the meantime, I would be well rested for when Richard did show up. There had been no further information about the Prince of Wales. I prayed for his recovery and hoped Richard would be able to get away. I was selfish like that.
I grabbed my bag and pulled out my toiletries. The envelope from Freddy’s home fell out. I’d forgotten all about it, and I set it on the nightstand with the intent to look at it later.
A short shower invigorated me, pushing back some of my fatigue, but I needed rest. Since I hadn’t packed anything but lingerie, I decided to sleep in the nude.
I ran my hands across the fine linen sheets, buttery smooth to the touch. A faint scent of rose and lilac filled my senses and relaxed my tired body. Although late spring, a chill hung in the air. Fancy as this residence was, Richard’s staff appeared to be a little skimpy on the heat. It didn’t matter because, once I crawled under the covers, I couldn’t have been more comfortable.
Maybe I’d take a peek at those documents. The adhesive on the manila envelope fought me, and I wound up ripping through the thick paper.
Snuggling in, I scanned the documents. It said something about a trust and had little sticky tabs for signatures. Too tired to focus, I allowed myself to doze.
Concerns over Richard spiraled in my mind. Memories of the night my father had taken his life stabbed deep into my heart. I would never understand why he’d made that choice. Freddy needed him, and I missed him dearly. I floated in a fog until everything faded, and I slipped into troubled sleep.
Pillowy-soft lips pressing against my mouth woke me.
“Good afternoon, my sweet Rowan.”
Peeking through sleep-laden lids, I grabbed Richard by the neck and chased that decadent kiss.
“Richard!” I tugged him tight. “I missed you.”
“And I, you,” he said, looking tired and worn. “How was your week?”
“Too long,” I said and then hesitated. Did I ask about his? Or did I pretend I didn’t know what the entire world had been talking about for the past week? “How’s your brother?”
Pain filled his features. “Holding on. Thank you for asking.”
I chose not to pry. He would either share or not, but for now, he was all mine once again.
Chapter 30: Papers
Richard
I ran my fingers through Rowan’s hair and breathed in her light fragrance. I didn’t know if it was her shampoo, perfume, or natural scent, but it sent signals straight to my cock, telling me to claim her now. My lips ghosted along her cheek, and I nipped a trail down her neck where I paused to linger in the hollow of her throat, nuzzling and remembering how she made me feel.
Complete.
The covers dropped and revealed the creamy expanse of a bare breast. My body reacted, vibrating with an unbearable need to devour until I’d tasted every square inch of her delicious body. I lifted the downy cover and peeked beneath the sheet. Her cheeks turned a wonderful s
hade of pink.
“For me?”
“I wish that answer were a yes, but sadly, it was more an issue of practicality.”
“Really?”
“I didn’t pack PJs, and they told me you wouldn’t be here until much later.”
I laughed. “Well, I’m pleasantly surprised.”
Before she could cover herself, I cupped her ivory breast, loving the way it fit perfectly in my hand. Her nipple peaked into a tight little bud, encouraging my next move. I dipped down and took her nipple in my mouth, happy with her gasp of pleasure. Rowan thrust her breast into my hand. I licked and sucked and treasured our reconnection.
Staring down, I memorized her face. I couldn’t bear an ocean separating me from this amazing creature. Her presence made my blood sing and heart swell with disparate emotions. Hope for a life forever entwined with her shouldn’t bring such sorrow.
I pulled in a breath. That would come later. For now, my cheeks filled with a grin, and I nuzzled her breasts, breathing in her essence and making it mine. Then, I placed my hand on her hip, lightly stroking my thumb against her skin. My entire body stilled, wired and vibrating with an unbearable need.
“I’ve fantasized about seeing you again.”
I kissed her midsection and ran my tongue around her belly button. Her body arched into me.
“It’s been the longest week. I want to trace every inch of your beautiful skin. I should crawl beside you and make sure everything is as I remember.”
Her light laughter warmed the room and filled my heart. Was it too much to wish for an endless future spinning out in front of us? One that didn’t come with an expiration date? My mother’s words ghosted in my mind, but for now, obligation would take a backseat to other more carnal desires.
Her body stilled, and I could barely tell she was breathing. I knelt and dragged the covers to expose her nakedness to my gaze.
“So fucking gorgeous.”
“Richard,” she said, breathing softly. The need simmering in her eyes met mine.
I shifted, positioning her until I was settled between her golden legs. Her trim mound beckoned to me, and her essence flooded my senses, driving an insatiable hunger. Sliding my arms beneath her legs, I buried my face between her thighs and took what was mine. Her hands tangled in my hair while I licked and sucked. The taste of her drove me insane. As she wove her fingers through my hair, I drove her to orgasm until she screamed. I held her through the aftershocks, loving the way her body shook with the pleasure I’d delivered.
She shifted, putting her weight on her elbows, and captured my gaze. “Now, that was one hell of a hello,” she said with the fiery brilliance of a well-satisfied woman.
I’d put that look on her face.
I licked her juices off my lower lip and rubbed at her wetness coating my chin. “You’re fucking amazing.”
Her smile broke my heart, sundered it to pieces, but I didn’t care. She would catch the shattered remains and weave them into her soul, right where I belonged, making me stronger than before.
She touched her neck. “I owe you an orgasm, Sir.”
Her cheeky grin brought a smile to my face and then a frown. My breath caught, realizing what I’d done. What I was about to do. Wouldn’t that be crass? To fly her in for nothing but a romp in the sheets? My actions confirmed exactly what my mother had thought about Rowan being nothing more than my American fling. Rowan deserved better.
“Come, let’s get you up. Have you ever been to London before?”
Her brows furrowed, and her body stilled. “Don’t you want…”
“More than anything in the world, but that’s not why I brought you here. I’m interested in you.” And that was the truth. My needs would be met. I planned on fucking her later tonight with all the passionate fury caged within me.
My staff thought exactly what my mother did, but unlike her, they would stay silent and keep their disapproval to themselves. Rowan wasn’t the first woman I’d brought here for an evening liaison. The courtyard and rear entrance had been built to shield the prying eyes of paparazzi from my intimate rendezvous. I didn’t want that for Rowan even if that was exactly what this might be.
And that was the problem. I was paying for the privilege of having her all to myself, but I wanted something more. I wanted her to choose me, but I also knew she could refuse.
My staff knew what I did with the women I brought here, and I hated that they’d put Rowan in that same class. It mattered to me that they respected her as a person and not as the plaything of a prince.
“We’ll have plenty of time later tonight,” I said, coming to a conclusion.
With a slap to her ass cheek, she squeaked as I propelled her from the bed. A stack of papers fell to the floor, and I bent to retrieve them while she went to put on clothes.
The quick peek violated her privacy, but I couldn’t resist, and then my eyes grew wide. I should have stopped, but I scanned the documents, growing confused. As I was accustomed to the legal language buried in contracts, my hackles rose.
“Rowan,” I called out as I carried the stack of papers to the bathroom.
“Yes?” She peeked out from the bathroom, arms wrapped around her back as she latched her bra.
“What is this?” I held out the papers.
“Oh”—she ducked back inside, and her voice muffled—“those were dropped off for Freddy to sign.”
“Your brother is allowed to sign legal documents?” Maybe I’d assumed too much about his mental faculties, but it seemed off for an autistic man living in a group home to be signing away his inheritance.
“Yes, and no. Father never wanted to take that from him. He’s not supposed to sign anything without me looking at it first. Freddy knows this.”
“Have you read these?”
“I forgot about them, to be honest. I was distracted by a prince. I’ve been moping ever since.”
“Moping? Why were you moping?”
She poked her head out the doorway. “I missed you, silly.” A few moments later, she emerged, wearing the pants and blouse I’d bought at Clara’s Boutique. “Is this okay? I almost brought jeans, but I’m not sure how I’m supposed to dress. I’ve never dated a prince before.”
I glanced at the ballet flats on her feet. “As long as you promise not to leave a slipper behind.”
A tiny grin curved the corners of her mouth. “I promise.”
Lifting the papers, I circled back to my concerns. “You need to read these.”
“Oh, I will. Maybe on the flight back though. I don’t want to waste any of the time we have together.”
My lips pursed because I wanted the same. “I looked at the documents. Please forgive me for prying. I didn’t mean to invade your privacy. But I thought you’d lost everything?”
A frown replaced her smile. She headed back to the bedroom. “If you’re talking about my finances, the only things not repossessed were the funds in my and Freddy’s accounts. Our trust funds took a beating with the legal fees, Freddy’s expenses, my tuition, and rent. There’s nothing left. Why? You know all this.”
“Did you know you have another trust fund?”
“I don’t,” she said with absolute assurance. “Only the one.”
Now, things really didn’t make sense.
“You need to sit down.”
Chapter 31: Trust
Rowan
Richard helped me sit. I perched on the edge of the bed and thumbed through the papers, but my eyes lost focus. Then, my grip slipped, and the entire stack fell to the floor.
Richard knelt and gathered the papers. He didn’t hand them back because my hands were shaking too hard. Instead, he retreated to the living area of my suite and the large secretary desk. There, he meticulously put the papers back in order. I sat, stunned, and convinced myself that Richard had misunderstood.
“Come,” he said. When I didn’t move, his voice turned deep and commanding. “Rowan, come here.”
His order had my feet moving of their
own volition. My body floated between the bed and the other room, and somehow, I sat in the chair he held out for me. My mind remained back in the bedroom, swirling with confusion and denial.
Several neat piles sat on the desk.
“This is a standard introductory statement,” he said. “Nothing important, except for instructions on where to sign.”
My attention went to the smallest of the piles.
“This one”—he pointed to the next stack—“details a trust you and Freddy inherited from your mother. According to this report, it’s far from empty.”
“I don’t understand. Henry told me the funds had been depleted.”
“I’m not talking about funds. And who is Henry?”
“His firm provides legal and accounting services and has been involved in Cartwright business for generations.” If there was an additional trust, why hadn’t Henry mentioned it? “Who established the trust?”
He glanced at the second stack. “Your great-grandfather on your mother’s side. Is that where your family’s wealth came from?”
Most of the family land acquisition had been the direct result of my great-grandfather’s efforts during the Depression. Back then, land had been cheap—at least, for those with money. Families had lost their farms. Cartwright banks had held the liens and taken ownership of the land when it defaulted.
“I don’t know. My parents shared everything. I assumed it’d all gone to my father after my mother’s death. What does the rest of it say?”
My mother’s death wasn’t something I generally thought about. She’d died when Freddy and I were infants. Other than pictures, I had no memories of a mother.
“Well, that will take some time, but it’s a listing of land deeds. You and Freddy hold joint interest.”
My stomach clenched, and I grabbed at my midsection. I didn’t like the direction this was headed.
He flipped through the third and thickest stack. “We need to figure out how much this is worth.”
“How? I can’t ask Henry. Not when he’s been keeping this from me.”
The Fidelity World- Nondisclosure Page 16