by Annie West
A death wish?
He gazed up at the bright bowl of the sky, vivid against the mountains, and felt the sizzle of expectation in his veins as he waited for Tamsin.
No. Despite the demons that hounded him, today he could truly say that given the chance he’d choose life.
‘Your Highness?’
He swung round to see one of his security staff. ‘Yes?’
‘I have the report you requested several hours ago. It’s only cursory. We’ll have more in a day or two.’
At last! Information on this tiresome Patrick who’d rung Tamsin. And on the journo who’d hung on her every word.
He caught movement from the corner of his eye.
Tamsin emerged into the courtyard in a padded anorak and thick trousers. Gone was the glamorous woman who’d entranced him last night. Yet in the sharp light of a winter’s morning her beauty defied the handicap of her bulky garments. Her face glowed in the crisp air. Unmarred by heavy glasses her clean, classic bone structure drew his appreciative gaze. Her eyes shone and the lush bow of her lips reminded him of last night’s heady pleasure.
Even the way she walked, an easy stride that spoke of supple limbs and natural athleticism, fired his blood.
Besides, he’d discovered at the ball he preferred she hide her luscious body from all male eyes except his.
He was rather fond now of her shapeless outfits. He enjoyed picturing the hidden curves beneath. Especially as he had every intention of stripping those garments away for his pleasure very soon.
Alaric couldn’t remember any woman getting so deeply under his skin. And he hadn’t even slept with her!
‘Your Highness?’
He swung back to the man patiently waiting.
‘Thank you.’ He nodded and took the envelope. No time now to satisfy his curiosity with Tamsin approaching. He stuffed the envelope into a pocket and rezipped his all-weather jacket. ‘That’s all for now. If anything urgent comes up I have my mobile phone.’
The other man bowed and stepped away as Tamsin reached him. Alaric turned, reminding himself not to touch, not yet, lest his brittle control snap.
Looking down into her bright eyes he realised this felt right. She felt right.
He smiled. Not a deliberate ploy to entice her but because for the first time in recent memory genuine happiness flared. He’d almost forgotten how good it felt.
‘Where are we going?’ They were the first words Tamsin had spoken in twenty minutes.
She’d been tongue-tied by the enormity of her feelings and the potency of what she saw in Alaric’s eyes. When he looked at her, his gaze smoky and possessive, tendrils of awareness curled through her, spiralling tighter. Just the graze of his gloved hand on hers as he helped her take her seat had made her breathless.
Once they were under way disbelief, delight and sheer joy had kept her silent as she watched the forest slide past. Never in her wildest dreams had she envisaged a horse-drawn sleigh ride across pristine powder snow! It was a romantic fantasy.
They threaded their way through dense forest, emerging now and then into glades where the brilliant blue sky dazzled as it shone on diamond bright snow.
‘We’re visiting a small hunting lodge in the mountains. The road is impassable and the only way in is by sleigh.’
It sounded thrillingly intimate.
Alaric turned from guiding the horses and bestowed a single, lingering look. Instantly, despite the chill air, heat blazed through Tamsin. Beneath the layers of heavy blankets he’d tucked around her she was burning up.
‘We’ll be uninterrupted there.’
‘I see.’ Was that her voice, husky and low?
One black eyebrow arched and a crease arrowed down his cheek as he smiled. ‘I knew you would.’ His rich velvet voice held a hum of anticipation that matched hers. ‘I’ve left orders that the lodge is absolutely off limits.’
His grin worked magic, loosening the final constricting ties of doubt. Under that look Tamsin felt buoyantly alive and strong, as if she could do anything. Dare anything.
Why be nervous? They were two adults. They both wanted this. Still her heart thudded against her ribs.
So what if she was a novice? Alaric had enough experience for them both.
Whatever the next few hours held, she wouldn’t regret the decision to accompany him. Being with Alaric was like the thrill she’d felt scaling that climbing wall, recognising but defying the dangerous drop below. The glow of pleasure, knowing she’d dared the risk and triumphed, had been worth the initial doubt.
How different to the hemmed in half-life she’d led! How frightening to think that just weeks ago she’d have been too nervous, too wary to take this step.
Alaric turned back to the horses and Tamsin wriggled against the seat, luxuriating in an effervescent tingle of anticipation.
In the knowledge that at the end of the journey they would finish what had begun last night.
The whoosh and slide of the sleigh and the tinkle of harness bells echoing in the pine-scented forest reminded her they were completely alone. There were no staff, no members of the public seeking Alaric’s attention. No one to look askance at his choice of companion.
Companion. For a moment the word jangled a discordant note. But even the memory of his original proposition, that she accompany him as a ruse, couldn’t dim Tamsin’s delight.
This was now. Just the two of them. This was real.
The admiration in his eyes made her feel like a princess. She intended to enjoy it while it lasted.
Looking up, Tamsin noticed slate grey clouds encroaching. ‘That looks like bad weather coming.’
‘It’s nothing to worry about.’
It was on the tip of her tongue to protest. Surely those clouds presaged snow. But it was easier to sink back and ignore them. Alaric knew this place. Perhaps she was wrong and the clouds were moving away.
Finally they arrived in a clearing, hemmed in on two sides by the mountain. Below spread more forest and in the distance a vista of Alps and valleys.
‘This is your lodge?’ She’d expected something tiny. She’d almost allowed herself to forget Alaric was royalty. On the remembrance a tremor of doubt buzzed through her and she sat straighter.
‘It was built by my great-great-great-grandfather Rudi as a retreat. For when he wanted to escape the court.’
She eyed the substantial building: traditional Ruvingian architecture but overgrown and embellished with mullioned windows, a forest of chimneys and even a turret. ‘Let me guess. He didn’t want to rough it.’
Alaric laughed and delight strummed her nerves. Soon…
‘Rudi enjoyed his pleasures.’ Alaric’s glittering look made her press her thighs close against a needy hollow ache.
‘You’re cold. Let’s get you inside.’ Deftly he flicked the reins. Ten minutes later they were in a huge stable.
‘You go ahead while I see to the horses.’
‘Can’t I help?’ She’d rather watch Alaric’s easy movements as he unhitched the horses.
‘No.’ His eyes held hers and heat pulsed. ‘Go and get warm. Make yourself at home. I won’t be long, I promise.’
The lodge was unlocked and she stepped into a flagged hall. Warmth hit her as she stared up at the staircase leading down on two sides. Antlers lined the room and a vivid mural ran around the top of the walls.
Tugging off her cap and gloves she paused in the act of undoing her jacket as she followed the scenes of revellers enjoying the bounty of the forest. There were plenty of buxom maids in attendance.
Her lips turned up wryly. Maybe Alaric’s ancestor had been a connoisseur of women, too.
She hung up her jacket, letting her mind skim past the idea of Alaric with other women. She unzipped her boots and left them beside the antique tiled oven that warmed the hall. Someone had prepared the place for their arrival.
‘Hello?’ Tamsin wandered through sitting rooms, a library, a dining room that seated twenty, a kitchen and storage room, bu
t found no one. Yet there was enough food to feed a small army.
Curious, she walked up the staircase. Its balustrade was carved with animals: hares, deer, hounds, even a boar. The whimsy appealed. Had old Rudi possessed a smile and a laugh as fascinating as his great-great-great-grandson’s?
Alaric would be here soon.
Her heart gave a great thump and began to gallop. She moved on till she reached a pair of double doors and hesitated. There was something intimate about investigating the bedrooms. But Alaric had said to make herself at home.
Turning the handle she entered. Her breath caught as she turned to take it in.
The turret room.
It was round, windows set into curved, cream walls. Velvet curtains of azure blue were pulled aside, allowing sunlight to pour across thickly cushioned window seats and a gorgeous old Turkish rug in a kaleidoscope of colours. A fireplace was set ready for the match and opposite it was the biggest four poster bed she’d seen in her life. Drapes of blue velvet were tied back to beautifully turned posts and the headboard was carved with the arms of the Ruvingian royal house.
The reminder of Alaric’s status stopped her, a splinter of harsh reality in her pleasant daydream.
Prince and commoner. It was too far-fetched. Too unreal.
‘I hoped I’d find you here.’
Tamsin spun round as Alaric closed the door. Its click made her jump.
‘I couldn’t find anyone.’ Her voice emerged too high. She watched his long silent stride. Something inside her shivered and her pulse danced.
‘We’re the only ones here.’ His lips curved up but his eyes were darkly intent.
‘I see.’
She wanted this, so why had her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth? Why did she feel suddenly nervous?
‘So you want to talk now?’
He raised an eyebrow. ‘Talk? What about?’
‘When you came to the archives you said you wanted…’
Slowly he shook his head as he paced closer. ‘I didn’t mention conversation.’ He stopped so near she smelled warm flesh and horse and citrus soap. She breathed deep and put out a steadying hand to the post behind her.
She was quaking but not, she registered, in fear.
‘You knew that.’ His gaze snared hers and her stomach dipped. ‘Didn’t you, Tamsin?’
She nodded. No point prevaricating. She knew exactly what he’d wanted. Why he’d invited her here.
‘Would you like to talk?’ He gestured to a couple of chairs she hadn’t noticed to one side of the room.
‘No.’ The single syllable was all she could manage.
‘What do you want, Tamsin?’ He purred her name and the final thread of resistance unravelled inside her.
She lifted her face to look him in the eye. What she saw there gave her the courage to be honest.
‘I want to make love with you. Now.’
Chapter Ten
HER words blasted away Alaric’s barely formed suspicion that she was nervous.
It wasn’t nerves that made her eyes widen as he crossed the room. It was excitement. Despite her initial hesitation when he kissed her, and her occasional air of other-worldliness, Tamsin was no shrinking virgin. Last night’s phone call from her ex-lover had made that clear.
Alaric breathed deep as anticipation roared through him. This was exactly what he needed. A mutually satisfying interlude with a woman who knew how to give and take pleasure generously. Tamsin’s passion last night left him in no doubt this would be an erotically fulfilling encounter.
He shoved to the back of his mind the knowledge that he was taking advantage. That his motives bringing her here were complex and he was keeping things from her.
But he couldn’t feel guilt. Not when he looked at Tamsin and knew only one thing drove him now: the purely personal need to claim her. Make her his.
‘It will be my absolute pleasure to make love to you,’ he murmured, his gaze trawling her tense form and coming to rest on her parted lips.
He’d waited so long for this. Too long.
He palmed her soft cheek, noting with delight the way she tilted her head up, instinctively seeking his mouth.
But he’d learned his lesson. Kissing Tamsin would unleash a desire so combustible he’d lose control in moments. This time he’d hold back to savour every exquisite detail for as long as possible. He had no illusions that the first time would be over almost before it began.
Just as well they had leisure for a second time and a third. And more. Tamsin would be here, his, for as long as he needed her.
‘Let your hair down.’
She blinked at the rough growl edging his voice but lifted her hands. Rippling swathes of dark glossy hair cascaded around her shoulders. In the bright wintry light auburn tints gleamed. So rich. So unexpected. Just like Tamsin.
He took a slippery fistful. The scent of sweet summer meadows. Skeins soft as satin slid against his lips.
He was hungry for the taste of her. Hard with wanting.
‘Now your pullover.’ He wanted to strip her himself but he didn’t trust himself to retain control.
Next time.
No, she wouldn’t have a chance to get dressed before he had her again. His groin hardened as blood pumped faster.
For an instant Tamsin hesitated then she hauled the wool over her head. As she stretched her arms high a sliver of pale skin appeared at her waist. In an instant his hands were there, slipping beneath her grey shirt.
She stilled, half out of her pullover, as he slid fingers across warm flesh that trembled under his touch.
So deliciously sensitive. Her delicate little shudder of pleasure delighted him as his hands skimmed her waist and dipped below the waistband of her trousers to explore the curve of her hips.
By the time she’d discarded the pullover he’d tunnelled beneath her shirt, up, up, till all she had to do was lift her arms again and it was gone, too.
Alaric tossed it over his shoulder as he feasted on the sight of her. Her peaches and cream complexion was flushed to a soft rose pink. He’d never known a woman to blush all over. The novelty of it tugged at something deep inside and he felt an unexpected moment of protectiveness.
His breath sawed in his throat as he traced the tell tale colour from her cheeks, past her lips, down to the base of her throat where her pulse pattered hard and fast. He stroked lower, down the upper slope of her breasts.
Her nipples puckered in welcome beneath her ivory bra. Functional, with a minimum of lacy edging and a tiny bow between her breasts, on Tamsin the plain bra looked sexier than the most revealing demi-cup or lace-up corset.
Alaric’s breath grew hoarse and heavy as he slipped his hands to her breasts. Warm, perfect, full, they filled his palms as she pressed forward, her eyelids flickering closed.
Fire exploded in his belly as he held her soft bounty in his hands. Gently he caressed and her head lolled back, her neck arched invitingly.
His mouth was a hair’s breadth from her scented throat when he recalled his scattered wits. No kisses. Not yet.
He dragged himself back, wincing at the shaft of discomfort in his groin.
Alaric dealt with the snap on her trousers and the zip easily, pushing the fabric down, down those long, lithe legs till at his urging she stepped out of them. Even the act of stripping her long grey and black striped socks was a sensual indulgence as he crouched before her. The intimate heat of her sex was so close. The silkiness of her calves teased as he skimmed the socks down. The seductive arch of each foot distracted as he tugged the socks free.
Low before her he was tempted to lean in and explore her feminine secrets with his lips and tongue. But he was too close to the edge to risk it.
Instead he allowed his fingertips to skim her knees and thighs as he rose, lingering for a moment at her knickers, where her heat beckoned, over her belly, breasts and up to cup her jaw.
She was sensational. All soft curves, taut lines and delicate angles. Pure female seduction. Just lo
oking at her almost tipped him over the edge.
Eyes bright as gold stared up into his, dazzling him. The impact of her sunburst gaze thumped through his chest and showered sparks through every nerve and muscle.
‘You’re wearing too many clothes.’ Tamsin’s voice was hoarse, almost unrecognisable. He felt a kick of satisfaction low in his gut that she was as desperate as he.
‘Easily remedied.’ With a violent movement he dragged his shirt and sweater up and off, flinging them behind him.
Though warm, the air was cool to his burning skin. Soft palms landed on his chest, fingers splaying. Tamsin explored his pectorals, scraping her nails tantalisingly over his hard nipples, trailing her hands to his belly.
In a flash his trousers were open and he shoved them down, balancing on one leg then another as he discarded underwear, socks and trousers in record time.
Belatedly he recalled the condom in his back pocket and stooped to retrieve it. There was a box of them in the bedside table but watching Tamsin’s face as she took in his naked body, he knew those few metres to the table might as well be a hundred kilometres.
Tearing the wrapper with his teeth, he deftly rolled on the protection, pleasure spiking at Tamsin’s expression of shocked excitement. The way she stared he could have been a demi-god, a hero, not an earthbound man with feet of clay. His blood beat hard and fast as his hands dropped away.
He stepped forward.
Alaric loomed closer and Tamsin backed up.
She hadn’t intended to. It was instinctive, an unplanned bid to escape a man who suddenly seemed dangerous in a primitive, ultra-physical way she’d never known.
The reality of Alaric the man, of what they were doing, hit her full force.
He was so big, so heavily aroused; a sliver of anxiety pierced the fog of desire. He could bend her to his will and she wouldn’t be able to resist. Whatever he demanded of her he could take.
An age old female wariness sped down her backbone. It had nothing to do with his royal rank and everything to do with Alaric as a virile, dominant male.