Tempted by the Prince

by Elizabeth Lennox

  “That’s a lie,” Rachel declared, not angrily, but calmly. With her newfound understanding of Denise, Rachel felt stronger, like she see could see through their subtle as well as not-so-subtle abuse.

  Pamela stepped forward, nudging Rachel out of the way. “Of course it’s the truth, dear. If you don’t remember it that way, then that’s your problem.” She simpered up at Tarin. “The girl was completely useless on the dance floor, Your Highness. It was amusing, but of course a mother doesn’t like to see her daughter in pain, so I stopped her from attending those classes.”

  “She’s actually a beautiful dancer,” he announced, extricating his arm from Denise’s hold – and not even bothering to be subtle about it.

  Denise and Pamela looked stunned, but recovered quickly. “Oh, don’t tease. You’ll only encourage her.”

  Tarin moved pointedly away from Denise and reached for Rachel’s hand. “Come ‘Duteille’, we need to talk.”

  Rachel hesitated, the name “Duteille” sparking memories from that afternoon in Paris. The man…the man trapped in a stone wall, cursed to watch the world pass him by!

  “I’m not….” she stopped, then looked at her mother and sister. That’s when she laughed. Her mother and sister were literally standing between her and Tarin. They were forming a wall!

  “Who is Duteille?” Denise asked. “Is that a nickname you gave to Rachel?” She leaned forward slightly, as if she was about to say something intimate. “She’s such a silly girl, isn’t she?” She preened for a moment. “If you’d care to dance, Your Highness, I would thoroughly enjoy being in your arms.”

  At that particular moment, the music swelled and the familiar strains hit her. Rachel recognized the music, her eyes widening with surprise and…horror? Yes, a bit of horror, but also a rush of laughter. “No!” she gasped, her eyes widening and she slapped a hand over her mouth, an old habit that she’d thought she’d banished.

  “Yes!” Tarin replied with a wicked smile filled with promise, stepping around Denise and taking Rachel’s hand. Rachel returned his smile, unaware of the hatred in Denise’s gaze or the malevolent look her mother shot at her. Rachel only had eyes for Tarin.

  “I’m not good enough yet,” she whispered, hesitating as he led her on to the dance floor.

  “You’re a natural,” he countered, and guided her into the crowd of dancers.

  At that moment, the music swelled again and Rachel automatically put her hand on his shoulder, sliding her fingers into his. The opening sounds of the Tango surprised everyone and, because it was such a complicated dance, most of the crowd migrated off the dance floor.

  Tarin moved forward and she stepped up, staring into his eyes, all the love she felt for him revealed to the occupants of the room. The smile that formed on her face was slow, but unconsciously sexy as she countered and pushed him backwards. Shifting right and left, forward and backwards, to the right, then to the left, spinning and charging, countering…reveling the way the chiffon of her dress floated around her legs. The music and the feel of his hands, the look in his eyes pushed away everything else. In Rachel’s mind, there was no audience, no bright lights overhead. In her mind, it was just the two of them and they were naked, in his suite. Every time he pushed, she eased back, but then pushed forward again, defending herself, not allowing him to control her. A moment later, he spun her around and “confusion” reigned, but he caught her in his arms, “confusion” controlled. Again and again, he lunged and she countered, moving to the sound of the music and the feel of his hands. It was just the two of them. Just her, feeling him against her body.

  When the dance came to a crescendo, her heart was pounding and she couldn’t stop the love from shining in her eyes. Another spin and then…she fell into his arms in a deep dip, his strong body holding her carefully. Safely. He would always catch her, she thought.

  The applause was almost deafening as Rachel came back to the present. Tarin pulled her straight, and kept his arm around her waist. The two of them acknowledged the crowd with a nod, and Tarin led her off the dance floor.

  Several people stopped them, gushing that Rachel looked amazing out there and asked how she’d learned. “He taught me,” she explained to everyone who asked, referring to Tarin as she walked beside him, her hand tucked onto his elbow and his hand over hers, probably to ensure that she stayed there and didn’t pull away.

  “Goodness, that was amazing!” Harper gushed, hugging Rachel. “I want to learn to dance like that!”

  Tarin grinned. “Rachel is a gifted dancer. I’d be happy to teach you too since my big brother is completely inept.”

  Amit glared at him.

  But it was Rachel who gasped her outrage. “You will not!” she yelped, and probably revealed too much when she blushed. Tarin, the rogue, knew exactly what she meant and pulled her in for a hug. “I’ll only dance with you, my love.”

  “You’d better,” she grumbled, leaning her head against his shoulder. “You’re mine.”

  He stilled and looked down at her, his eyes unreadable as he said, “Come with me.”

  Rachel didn’t have a chance to protest since he dragged her out of the ballroom. Because there were so many people everywhere, it was difficult to find a private space, but eventually, he found an empty room and pulled her inside, slamming the door behind them. “Am I?” he demanded.

  Rachel was completely out of breath, not just from the frantic race out of the ballroom, but also from the heated look in his eyes. “Are you what?” she asked. She reached out, needing the comfort of his touch.

  “Am I yours?” he demanded, moving closer, pulling her flush against him.

  She held her breath as she stared up at him. “I want you to be mine,” she admitted. “I’ve been such a fool this week, but I don’t want to be Duteille any longer. I don’t want to be frozen in my life, just watching the world pass me by.” She lifted up onto her toes and kissed him gently. “I want to be all the way in,” she concluded, and waited for his response.

  “It’s about time!” he groaned, wrapping his arms around her and spinning her around, kissing her with all of the pent up passion that he’d tried to ignore while she’d been with her family.

  When he put her back on the floor, they were both panting. “I don’t want you around your family, if you can even call those people that, anymore. You have a new family. Starting now!”

  “Okay,” she said, beaming up at him.

  “That means marriage, Rachel. I want my ring on your finger!” He dug into his pocket and produced a stunning diamond ring. “If you accept this, it means more than just our engagement. It means that you’ll be with me forever. And you’ll recognize how bad your family is and get rid of them. I’m serious, your mother and sister are evil and your father is weak, allowing them to do whatever to him. You need and deserve so much more than that.”

  “Okay,” she replied, stunning them both.

  His eyes widened, then narrowed as he looked down at her. “Okay? Just…okay?”

  She laughed. “You’re right, Tarin. I’ve been letting them manipulate me for too long. I can’t let it continue. And…” she blushed, but his hands tightened around her waist, giving her courage. “Well, if we have children, I don’t want my family to…”

  She couldn’t finish again because he kissed her. She melted into his kiss and she wanted to laugh and cry and scream with happiness. She felt liberated! For the first time in so long, she was completely and amazingly free! She hadn’t realized until this moment how much her family dragged her down. But it was time to break free from that toxicity and find her happiness. They’ll just have to survive without her and, whatever happens to their business, would happen because of their ineptitude.

  “I love you,” he murmured against her lips.

  “I love you too,” she replied, kissing him with all of the love she felt in her heart.

  Epilogue

  “I’m going!” she announced in a tone that brooked no argument.

  Tarin
followed her out of the dressing room, his eyes focused on her back instead of…well, the rest of her because looking at the rest of her just drove him wild with lust. He couldn’t think about…that…right now.

  “You’re not going!” he countered, his tone absolute.

  Rachel slowly turned around, pulling the dress over her eight and a half month pregnant belly and hiding the pretty red bra she’d pulled on moments ago. Her panties didn’t match because the panties that matched the bra were now too small for her pregnant body, but Rachel knew that Tarin still desired her. The evidence was pretty clear if she just looked down.

  This argument couldn’t be resolved with sex though. So she didn’t look. She kept her eyes upwards.

  “Tarin, this is the opening ceremony for the university center. You’ve been working on this project for years and I’m proud of you! I’m going! I’m standing by your side and I’m going to be clapping harder than anyone else.”

  He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “But you’re pregnant, Rachel!”

  Rachel laughed. “Yes. I noticed!” she replied softly. Moving closer, she rested her hands on his chest, tilting her head back to look into his face. “Tarin, we’ve been married for two years now. And you’ve been working on this center the whole time. I’m going to this ceremony. I will be with you.”

  “I want you here, resting with your feet up and eating something nutritious,” he countered, his hands caressing her belly.

  She covered his hands with hers, loving him so much that it overwhelmed her sometimes. “I’ll be fine. Besides, if anything happens, the university is only two miles from the hospital. I love you and this is your moment. I have to be there.”

  He moved closer, leaning forward to kiss her. “Fine. But if anything happens, you’ll tell me, right?”

  She grinned cheekily up at him. “You’ll be the first to know,” she vowed.

  Tarin sighed, closing his eyes as he accepted the inevitability of her attendance. He didn’t like it, but one thing he’d come to love about her was her determination. It was sexy as hell and he loved her more with each passing day!

  Six hours later, Rachel beamed and clapped so hard that her hands stung as Tarin cut the giant ribbon with a pair of shining scissors. The crowd roared and stood up, but Rachel was in too much pain to stand. Thankfully, no one noticed as they surged forward, eager to offer their congratulations.

  Still, Rachel waited for another thirty minutes. The crowd had finally thinned out by then, most people moving over to the food tables and mingling around the atrium of the main building for the new university campus.

  Finally, Tarin turned and saw her. She’d stayed in her chair, her hands covering her round tummy. But he didn’t notice her beauty. He only saw how pale she was.

  “Rachel!” he roared, moving over to her and bending down to peer into her eyes.

  “What’s wrong, love?” he demanded.

  She lifted one finger, silently asking him to hold on a moment. When the contraction eased, she took a deep breath, her shoulders relaxing, and she gave him a genuine smile.

  “Oh my, that was a bad one,” she admitted. “Would you mind taking me to the hospital now?” she asked, her tone utterly casual.

  Tarin was so stunned, he almost fell. Thankfully, he recovered and stood up, calling out to his guards even though they could see what was happening and were already arranging for transport to the hospital. Tarin scooped her up into his arms and carried her out of the building, ignoring the curious crowd.

  It would be reported in the news the following day that the handsome prince groaned quietly as he put his wife into the vehicle. But the greatest news was that the royal family of Raminar had a new baby boy in their happy family. Mother and son were thriving and the royal family was thrilled to add a new member. It was also reported that the Princess Rachel’s side of the family was still struggling to recover from their bankruptcy filings and her parents’ divorce was final.

  Message from Elizabeth:

  I sincerely hope that you enjoyed Tarin and Rachel’s story! I know that you have an incredibly busy life, but reviews are hugely important. Would you take just a few seconds to leave a review? Click HERE to go back to the retail site’s book page. Just a few words are extremely helpful! Thank you so much!

  (If you don’t want to leave feedback in a public forum, feel free to e-mail me directly at elizabeth@elizabethlennox.com. I answer all e-mails personally, although it sometimes takes me a while. Please don’t be offended if I don’t respond immediately. I tend to lose myself in writing stories and have a hard time pulling my head out of the book.)

  Keep scrolling for a titillating excerpt from my next series Forsaken Sons first book One More Kiss!

  Excerpt for One More Kiss

  Release date: March 12, 2021

  Click HERE to get Lincoln and Kinsley’s story!

  “I need your help.”

  Kinsley looked up from the receipt she was trying to decipher. For the past week, she’d been squinting at receipts, pulling her hair out in an effort to determine how to associate each cost to the projects.

  So when he poked his head into her office, it took Kinsley a long moment to shift gears. “I’m sorry?”

  He waved his hand. “Leave all that. I need your help with something.”

  Kinsley grabbed a pen and notebook, and obediently followed behind Lincoln. “How can I help?” she asked, excited for a distraction after working in her office all week with no interruptions other than phone calls from reporters and investors asking, demanding, threatening, and terrorizing her in their efforts to speak with Lincoln Meyers. One person had literally threatened an FBI investigation on her if she didn’t bring the man to the phone immediately. At that time, Lincoln hadn’t even been in the building…at least, she hadn’t seen him that morning. But…that wasn’t out of the ordinary. Some days, she didn’t see him at all, although he’d leave instructions on her desk.

  He fascinated her and the more she learned about him, the more she…liked. If her boyfriend became angry when she refused to tell him anything about her new, mysterious employer or what she was doing for the famous recluse, it didn’t bother Kinsley in the least. She considered guarding his privacy part of her job.

  “Kinsley!” he bellowed.

  Kinsley glared at his back from her doorway. “I’m not a dog, Mr. Meyers,” she snapped. “And I’m right here, waiting for instruction. No need to bellow when a kind word will suffice.”

  He stopped and looked over his shoulder at her. Did his gaze move over her figure? Kinsley wasn’t sure.

  “I’m well aware of that fact.” He turned and headed out the door, disappearing into one of the rare sunny days in Seattle.

  Kinsley followed at a more leisurely pace. She wasn’t racing after a man who hollered at her. No way!

  When she stepped outside, he was already sitting on his motorcycle, strapping his helmet on. “Here,” he handed a helmet to her. “Put this on and climb on.”

  Kinsley blinked at the helmet in her hands, not sure what he meant. “Why would I put this on?”

  “Because I need your help. Come on.”

  She eyed the bike, then at his massive back that was literally rippling with muscles underneath a white tee shirt. Swallowing, she shook her head, stepping back from the bike. “Nope. I don’t ride motorcycles. Do you know what the death rate on motorcycles is these days?”

  He chuckled. “I’m very well aware of the death rate. Which is why I need your help.”

  Again, she shook her head, tucking the helmet underneath her arm. “Nope. No way!”

  He chuckled. “Fine. Drive your little Prius over to the track.” A moment later, he was off, zipping down the driveway towards the mysterious area she’d wondered about.

  For a long moment, Kinsley stared after him, not sure if she should follow him down that mysterious road, or head back into her office to figure out the zillions of seemingly random receipts. Eventually, curiosity got the better
of her. She was eager to spend a little time outside of those four, harshly white walls. Hurrying back around the building, she grabbed her keys and drove around the building in the direction Lincoln had gone.

  Sure enough, he’d parked the motorcycle next to what looked like a huge racetrack. It even banked at the ends, presumably for safety when a vehicle rounded those corners. Huh! The guy owned a racetrack! That was new. She’d heard of home theaters or basketball courts, private exercise rooms, even a special studio in one’s house for yoga. The rich and famous tended to be an odd breed. But none of the articles she’d read included a racetrack on a wealthy person’s estate.

  “Okay, I’m here. How can I help?”

  He was attaching something to the motorcycle, using a wrench and a few other tools that Kinsley didn’t recognize. “Grab a pair of headphones from that box over there and put them on. I’ll be talking to you through the speaker connected to my helmet. You’ll need to time and log the various intervals I’ll give you.” He stood up and Kinsley’s eyes moved down over his long, muscular legs, her mouth going a bit dry.

  Stop staring at his legs, she scolded herself. But her eyes drifted upward, taking in his thigh muscles. And his arms. The tee shirt had short sleeves, so she could see the bulging muscles in his arms. The triceps twitched every time he turned the wrench, mesmerizing her.

  Blinking hard, she forced her gaze away and peered in the direction he’d pointed. There was a box filled with headphones and other strange equipment, a tangled mess of speakers and wires and odd things poking out of the box that didn’t seem to have anything to do with headphones.