American Prince: A Royal Romance (Sand & Fog Series Book 9)

by Susan Ward

  Jesus Christ, she was going to be OK.

  She was going to live a normal healthy life.

  Memories of her in Venice danced through my head. Her flirty swishes of her curvaceous, long-limbed body. The playful light dancing in her bright blue eyes. Her joy-filled effervescence. She’d taken my breath away with her loveliness, and that was living with the dark cloud of her illness hanging over her. In fact, she’d been so enchanting I hadn’t even suspected she was ill.

  I suddenly felt light-headed and couldn’t breathe. Two days ago, I feared we’d lose everything. Now there was nothing out of reach for us.

  I leaned over, supporting myself with my hands on my knees, until every ounce of emotion ran out of me and I could steady myself to leave the clinic.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Khloe

  The Past

  I’M FORCED AWAKE BY the insistent demand of my stomach. I was hungry in a way I’d never known before. Gnawing, brutal hunger caused by not having eaten since before the surgery.

  How many days ago had that been?

  One? Two? A week?

  Between the mental fog created by the complete body pain and the meds to block it, I had no sense of time or much memory of the minutes since the transplant.

  Well, this girl was most definitely ready for some grub. I opened my eyes and smiled. Damon was fast asleep in the chair beside the bed. He was sitting straight up with his head tilted to one side and snored lightly. His gorgeous face showed signs of exhaustion, and I suspected he hadn’t taken a moment for himself from the time I went under the knife. He looked a bit unkempt, his wavy hair wasn’t sexily unruly but like it hadn’t seen a comb for a while, and I had a fuzzy picture in my memory of him wearing that exact same shirt the day before…or was it longer?

  I reached out and ran my fingers through his soft chestnut hair. The feel of him sent a blast of emotion through me. Sweet, beautiful man. Did he intend to occupy that chair until I got out of the medical unit?

  Laughing, I closed my fingers around a small clump of his strands and gave a gentle tug. He startled awake, raising his head so quickly that my weak fingers lost their hold on him.

  “You look like a man having a lousy honeymoon,” I teased, then eased my lips into a downward curve.

  “You look amazing. You must be feeling better today.” His voice was a bit choked up, though he attempted to be light. Standing, he grasped my cheeks in his hands and planted a loving kiss on my lips. “And you’re wrong. I’m having the best honeymoon in the history of honeymoons.”

  “That doesn’t speak highly of our sex life.”

  “Our sex life is fantastic. And you know it.”

  “Not lately.”

  “Stop it. We have an entire lifetime to make up for that. Behave yourself and get better. Nothing could make me happier.”

  When he meant to ease back, I nuzzled my chin against the rough stubble on his chin. “Me either. An entire lifetime. Say it again, Damon. I won’t ever tire of hearing that.”

  His heart-stopping smile flashed. “An entire lifetime. That’s what we have, love.”

  Smiling, I relaxed back against the pillows. “Now, if I could get something to eat, all would be splendid with the world.”

  “They usually check on you fairly frequently but let me send for Nurse Howard and see what’s on the menu for your breakfast.”

  I crinkled my nose. “Hospital recovery diet. Bland, unidentifiable yuck. No, thank you. Sneak into the kitchen and get a chocolate scone from Mrs. Freeburg instead.”

  “No. You’ll eat what they give you. Food to get you strong again.” He arched a brow.

  I pouted. “But I want the scone.”

  “I want you well.”

  I exhaled as if annoyed. “Fine. Go ask for my yuck.”

  “I’ll be right back.”

  My throat was dry, and my mouth tasted awful. Damon must really love me to kiss me this morning. “Is there water or anything I can have to drink?”

  He grabbed from the bedside table a cup with a plastic straw, and I guzzled down the water, parched.

  The foulness was gone. I sighed. “Better.”

  His brow crinkled.

  “Never mind.” I handed back the cup and followed him with my gaze as he left the room.

  Once the door closed behind him, cautiously I lifted the sheet covering my body. The pressure on my left side was unbearable. Something was compressing my breasts. It was time to get a look at what they’d done to me. It didn’t matter. It’d saved my life, but I wanted to start mentally preparing myself for later.

  Gideon had shown me where the incision would be made. A superhighway between my breasts down my middle. There’d be an ugly scar right in the territory of my girls, my second-best asset after…

  I frowned. I couldn’t see anything. I was covered by a giant bandage, but the size of it didn’t bode well. I wondered if Damon had seen it. Probably. That crazy man had remained in the observation room through the entire surgery. Not even my dad had had the stomach for that.

  As I dropped the sheet, my gaze strayed to the closed door. Why was it taking so long to get me something to eat? Nurse Howard, no doubt. She gave Damon plenty of crap. But for all that she was a tyrant, she was young, maybe only thirty, blond and pretty. And I noticed how she looked at my husband when she didn’t think anyone was watching. She had a major crush on him, and I couldn’t get out of the hospital soon enough.

  The door opened, and Nurse Howard bustled into the room followed by Damon. There wasn’t a tray in her hand.

  “Khloe, I hear you’re more alert today and hungry.” She smiled and started checking my vitals. She scanned my chart. “What’s your pain level?”

  It was through the roof, but I lied because I didn’t want to be foggy and doped up any longer. “Five.”

  “Good. We can ease back on the painkillers.” She patted my leg. “Let me call the doctor and see what we can do about getting you a tray.”

  “Thanks, Nic,” Damon said.

  She marched out of the room.

  I crossed my arms and tilted my head. “Nic? You’re on first names with Nurse Howard?”

  Damon laughed. “My charm has been known to work on some women.”

  “It better not.” My eyes widened meaningfully.

  “Oh no, she didn’t. Was Khloe just jealous then?”

  “No. Annoyed. Here I am in a hospital bed and you’re out flirting with women on our honeymoon.”

  His expression seemed to say I was exasperating before he planted a silly kiss on my lips. “It got her to stop kicking me out of the room, love, so I could be with you more.”

  “Then you’re forgiven.” I looped my arms around his neck and kissed him passionately.

  We both laughed and he settled on the bed next to me. “I’ve missed this in the worst way, KK.”

  “This?”

  He sighed. “Flirty talk with KK. Ridiculous, huh? But while I’ve sat in the chair watching you doze, that’s what I’ve missed. It’s amazing how something can become so necessary for you without you knowing it.”

  Oh, Damon. “You know what I miss? Feeling you beside me while I sleep. If you don’t climb onto this bed and cuddle me a bit now, I won’t be able to bear it a second longer.”

  “No. I can’t. I might hurt you.” I could tell he was aching to feel me against him.

  “Please.” I patted the spot next to me. There weren’t any tubes or machines to get in his way. “It won’t ever feel for me like everything’s going to be fine unless you do.”

  It was the truth. I needed to feel him to know we were going to be OK in the after.

  He gazed at me and I implored him with my eyes. I spotted the second he understood why I was asking.

  “It’s no different for me, you know,” he said. “Nothing ever feels completely right to me without the feel of you.”

  I nodded.

  “Only for a second.
” Slowly, he settled beside me, then gingerly eased an arm around me. I turned enough to lay my head on his chest, and he buried his lips in my hair.

  “Is this all right?” he whispered.

  “Better than all right. It’s perfect.”

  “Happy one-week anniversary, love.”

  “A week? We’ve really been married a week?”

  “Uh-huh. Holding you is the best present I could get,” he murmured lovingly.

  “Me, too. Happy anniversary, Damon.”

  THREE WEEKS LATER I was given the thumbs-up to move back to our bedroom to finish my recovery, so long as I adhered to a long list of rules that allowed for no fun of any kind. I felt good, stronger, and was more than ready to get to know the new me and what she was capable of.

  Staying in bed seemed ridiculous. The no-sex-yet rule was even worse. I could walk with an ease I’d not possessed since I was little. No breathless spells or tightness in my chest. I could laugh myself to tears and the only thing that would bother me was my incision. Sitting up and moving around the bedroom was nothing for me now. And sleeping with Damon each night, I ached in the worst way to make our marriage official in the best sense of the word.

  Much to my disappointment, I discovered Damon wasn’t a rule breaker. No matter how I flirted and teased, he held fast and had every intention of keeping it that way until the medical team said it was OK. Such a stupid thing to worry about after all my body had been through. How could I possibly hurt myself making love to my husband?

  I reached for a card and an image flashed in my head. A picture of Damon glistening with sweat, his jaw tight as he plunged into me. I loved the way he surrounded me with his body, how ruthlessly he could use every part of him to drive me wild with passion. How his fingers lightly teased my flesh before he slammed hard. Even in his most tender moments he could make me weep in pleasure. How his mouth and tongue savored my taste. How he felt against my flesh, the way he smelled—

  Desire exploded in my blood and licked hot and heavy across my flesh. My legs began to jiggle, and I bit my lower lip. I needed to concentrate on something else.

  Jeez, Louise. That would be a lot easier if I wasn’t sitting on our bed. Thinking about us would only make the wait harder. Damon was a rock, even when I got him rock hard.

  With agitated moves I rearranged the cards in my hand. Glancing over the top of them, I found my mom studying me.

  “Is everything all right, Khloe?”

  “Terrific.”

  Much to my dismay, I blushed.

  My mom made a face and settled on her side. “You seem antsy. You won’t hurt my feelings if you tell me you’re tired of playing cards and can use some rest.”

  “I love our afternoon card games. I’m going to miss them after you leave tomorrow.”

  Mom shook her head. “Out of all you kids, you’re worst at fibbing. I know you and Damon are eager to have us out of your hair and some alone time again. I haven’t forgotten what it was like to be newly married.”

  “Not true. We love having you here.”

  “Good. We love being here.” She crinkled her nose. “But I’m ready for some sunshine…and your dad is ready for some alone time with me. No low-T. Remember?”

  “Mom!”

  Laughing, she collapsed back against the pillows. “I love shocking you. Thank you for pretending I can still do it.”

  “I’m not pretending.” I made a dramatic full-body shudder. “I’ve already told you. That one needs to stay in the things-I-can’t-hear cubby.”

  Tossing aside my cards, I sank down and cuddled into her. She answered by putting her arms around me. “I love you, Mom. I could never have gotten through this month without you and Dad. Damon either.”

  “We love you, too, baby girl. But you’re through it. We beat the odds, Khloe. You’re going to have a long, wonderful life thanks to Dr. Hern’s vision and brilliance. You don’t need us here anymore. You’re a married woman. And it’s time for us to get out of your way.”

  I was suddenly choked up. “I’ll always need you, Mom,” I protested.

  “I’ll always be here for you. But we’re going home tomorrow as planned.”

  THE NEXT MORNING AFTER breakfast, Damon drove my parents to the landing strip and the waiting jet without me. I hated that I wasn’t permitted to see them off. The temperatures were near freezing and Damon fretted it was too soon for me to trek around outside.

  As I sat in the kitchen, the house was sadly empty without any of them, but I knew Mom had been right. The Khloe crisis was over, and it was time for all of us to go back to our normal lives.

  I went to our bedroom and snuggled beneath the blankets to wait for Damon. Lifting my hand, I studied the eternity band of diamonds beneath my engagement ring. Even after a month it blew me away that I was married to Damon. That I’d somehow won two lotteries in a single month: marrying the perfect man and a new heart to go with my new life. I was positive there wasn’t a happier or luckier girl in the world than me.

  Sighing in contentment, I burrowed into his pillow. An hour later, Damon came into the room, carrying a tray.

  “Did my parents get off OK?”

  “Yes. They are safely on their way back to California.”

  Damon set the tray in the center of the bed.

  “What’s this?”

  “Elevenses,” he said cheerfully.

  My pulse jumped and I eagerly scanned his face looking for traces of naughty Damon. Elevenses always ended in a gloriously satisfying way. But darn, there wasn’t anything in his expression to make me hopeful that this would be sexy times and not a morning tea.

  I sat up, crossing my legs. “We haven’t done this in a while.”

  “No, we haven’t. I’ve been missing it in the worst way.” He brushed his lips against mine, then stepped back, turning away from me.

  “Do you want me to pour your tea?”

  “There’s no tea,” he announced, not looking at me. “There are Rossinis in the pot.”

  My gaze shot to him.

  He was undressing.

  “No sandwiches or biscuits either.” He took off his sweater and tossed it on the ground. “Just strawberries beneath the silver cover. Very hard to get in Wyoming in winter. I had them flown in on your parents’ plane.”

  Oh…my breath caught. He gazed over his shoulder at me, his amber eyes darkening. His lips parted as, with deliberate moves, he began unfastening his pants.

  “When I asked Gideon this morning if it were advisable for you to go to the plane, after he said he’d prefer you didn’t, he told me something else.”

  “He did?” I whispered, then swallowed.

  He removed his pants and kicked them away before coming to stand above me at the bed. Holy shit. Damon was fully swollen and rock hard. “He said we could shred the restrictions list. I’ve been fighting an erection ever since. A particularly awful thing while in a car with your dad. You’re in trouble, Khloe. Desperate trouble.”

  His voice made desire detonate in my bloodstream. Oh, it had been too long. Somehow I steadied myself not to attack him. I perched on my knees and took a strawberry from a plate.

  Slowly I ran it up my leg, across my thigh, and then around my lips. He inhaled sharply when I bit into it. When I flicked my tongue on it, he groaned.

  I gasped in surprise as he hauled me up against him and crashed his mouth into mine. His tongue attacked hungrily, and we consumed each other, lost in our kiss as we began to rediscover each other.

  I whimpered in weak protest as he yanked my nightgown off me and closed his mouth around my hardened nipple. I didn’t want him to see my scar…but that thought faded to nothingness from how much I wanted him. He sucked hard and everything below my waist liquified. “I need you in me now.”

  He gasped, surprised by the fervor of my impatience. “Khloe.” He was struggling to hold me against him as he removed my panties. When his fingers brushed my slit, his jaw tightened,
and a shudder ran him from head to toe. Every inch of him pulsed with pent-up sexual tension.

  Easing back, he yanked my panties off me, brought them to his face, and inhaled deeply before he tossed them aside. Breathing raggedly, he brushed back his tousled hair and gazed down at me. “I imagined this a different way. I had it all planned.”

  “Forget the Rossinis. Forget the strawberries. We can do that after.”

  When he didn’t immediately pounce on me, I pounced on him, endeavoring to yank him into the bed with me.

  “Whoa. Khloe. Slow down. One…restriction… love,” he sputtered between our kisses, his hands stilling my body. “Gideon said—”

  “Sorry, I don’t care what Gideon said.” I pressed full length into him and teased his erection.

  His head tilted back as he groaned. “One restriction. He doesn’t want my weight on top of you for thirty days. I can do everything else to your body, but not that. No missionary boffing. But that works out brilliantly for me. You didn’t play fair during your recovery. And I’m going to have every nasty thought I had of you while you tortured me. And you best prepare for a lot of things we’ve never done before as well as doing a lot of riding.”

  “No, Damon.” Challenge flashed in my eyes. “You held out for four weeks. You best prepare for a lot of things I’ve never done to you before.”

  His eyes tightly closed as though he was in agony. Then, abruptly, he moved and brought me astride him. His hands ran the length of my thighs before he brought me back to his mouth. I guided him into my body and dropped down on him hard. I rocked my hips like a woman possessed, in time with the lusty demand of his kisses. And even though how we made love wasn’t how Damon planned it, I was certain he thoroughly enjoyed every second of it.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Damon

  The Past

  Eight months later…