The Anti-Cinderella Takes London

by Tawdra Kandle

  But no such luck. “Kyra, that’s no way to live. You sound miserable.” Her forehead drew together. “Isn’t there anything you can do to make things better? I mean, the Royal Family can’t make you stay home alone, right? If you’re not official enough to go to public events with Nicky, then they shouldn’t have the power to force you into anything.”

  “Nobody is forcing me to do anything.” I pressed my fingers to my temples, where suddenly a headache pounded. “But would you want to go sightseeing if a throng of reporters were following you everywhere? Or if you couldn’t even run to the corner shop without being recognized and having people stare and point?” I shuddered. “Trust me. Staying here is far preferable to that.”

  “Oh, Ky.” Shelby bit her lip, her eyes worried. “This isn’t good.” She studied me through the camera. “When’s the next time you’re coming home for a visit?”

  “Two weeks.” I was so looking forward to the trip—and dreading it at the same time. “I’m spending Thanksgiving in Florida with the entire family.”

  “Florida? Don’t the Duncans usually do Thanksgiving in Maine?” Shelby had been my best friend long enough to know our traditions. “And is Nicky coming with you?

  I shook my head. “No. It’s not a holiday for him, you know, and he already had engagements for that week, so it’s just going to be me.” I swallowed over the lump of worry that had risen in my throat at the thought of leaving him behind. It was far too reminiscent of what had happened between us last year, when we’d broken up for six months. Giving myself a little shake, I went on.

  “And you’re right about Maine. Usually we do celebrate there, but this year, Honey’s been sick. She was in the hospital with pneumonia for a week in October, and the doctor advised against her traveling this winter.”

  “Wait a minute—Honey was sick—in the hospital—and you didn’t tell me?” Shelby scowled at me through the camera. “Is she okay?” Shelby adored my grandparents, who were known as Handsome and Honey by both family and friends. I’d given them those names when I was a toddler, and to their delight, the nicknames had stuck.

  “From what I hear, yes, she’s going to be fine.” I crossed my legs and shifted on the cushion of the sofa. “Believe me, I wasn’t any too happy about being all the way over here when she was sick. But my dad promised he’d keep me informed. He was concerned that if I flew to Florida, the press circus might be too disrupting for the family while they were trying to take care of her.”

  “I understand.” Shelby tilted her head, sympathy in her eyes. “Not being there must’ve been killing you. But here’s some good news—if you’re going to be in Florida for Thanksgiving, I can come see you. I’m flying home for that week, too.”

  I sat up straighter, giving a little squeal of delight. “Oh, my God! That’s awesome. If you can come over to the beach, we can have a girls’ night. Movies and wine and ice cream.” I paused. “Maybe not in that order.”

  Shelby laughed. “I’m in. I’m spending the first three days with Vivian and Charlie and the baby, and then I need to fit in a visit with the parentals and Aunt Gail. But by the weekend, I’m sure I’m going to be more than ready for some best friend time.”

  “Okay. It’s a date.” I’d been looking forward to going home for the holiday anyway, but now I was even more excited.

  “It definitely is.” She glanced at something off-camera and wrinkled her nose. “But right now, I need to get my ass in gear. I want to grab some breakfast before I go to work. So . . . we’ll text about the details, but otherwise, I’ll see you in two weeks.”

  “I can’t wait.” I frowned a little. “But Shel, is everything all right there? I feel like we talked about all my problems and you didn’t tell me how things are in New Mexico.”

  That same shadow passed over her eyes again. “It’s all good, Ky. Maybe slightly complicated, but—well, I love the work, and the people are mostly nice. I’m learning so much. I just wish . . .” Her voice trailed off. “We’ll talk at Thanksgiving, babe, and I promise, I’ll spill my guts then. You can give me wise counsel over wine.”

  “Okay. You know I’m here for you no matter what, right, Shelby?” I had a feeling that she was evading my questions. “Best friends trump everything, even Royal Family orders. That’s not going to change.”

  “Of course, it isn’t,” she returned. “I know that. Ciao for now, sweetie. And hang in there. Everything is going to work out for you and Nicky. I just know it.”

  I ended the call with a smile, but once I’d shut the computer, the silence of the cottage weighed on me even heavier, and the empty hours of the weekend stretched out before me.

  “Well, I guess it’s just me and Netflix once again,” I sighed, reaching for the television remote. “Another glamorous weekend in the life of Prince Nicky’s girlfriend.”

  2

  One of the benefits of living at Kensington Palace was the accessibility to beautiful gardens, offering all of the residents plenty of places to stroll when the weather was decent. Of course, in London, the lack of decent weather was the issue more often than not.

  Happily for me, during the weekend that Nicky was in Africa and I was alone, London experienced a rare bout of sunshine and slightly warmer than normal temperatures. I took advantage of the sunny daylight hours and sat outside on a bench with a book both Saturday and Sunday afternoons. It was quiet and peaceful . . . and after all of the angst I’d expressed to Shelby on Friday, I found a little bit of comfort in my solitude. Of course, I’d rather have Nicky at home with me, but over those days, I remembered that I was all right by myself now and then.

  Late on Sunday afternoon, I set up my laptop on the counter in the small kitchen and tuned in to American football. This was just one of the things I missed from my homeland: lazy Sundays when I’d hung around with friends and family, eating junk food, drinking beer and cheering on our favorite teams. Having to bring up the game on my computer and watch it that way just didn’t feel the same.

  Still, I told myself that this was a very small sacrifice to make for the far more important benefit of living with the man I loved. Now that I’d been here in London for five months, it was all too easy to forget how miserable I’d been without him during the time when we’d been broken up—and how hard it had been to live with an ocean between us even when we were in a relationship. Football or not, lonely times or not—this was the better way. I didn’t have even one doubt.

  I finished assembling my potato skins, wings and beer, carried the tray into the sitting room, and then moved the laptop onto the coffee table so I could see the game. The big screen TV on the wall stared at me blankly, and I wondered if there was some way for me to hook up the computer to that screen, so that my players weren’t tiny ant-sized men running around on a field of green. I made a mental note to ask Alex’s husband Jake about that possibility. He seemed to know his way around technology, certainly better than either Nicky or I did.

  The game on tonight was Philadelphia hosting Richmond, two teams I followed pretty closely. It was a welcome change to have something to occupy my mind. The announcers were enthusiastic about some of the young players, particularly Philadelphia’s Tate Durham. Even as firmly committed to Nicky as I was, I had to admit that Durham was a hottie—and he was damn good player, too.

  After a couple of beers and too many potato skins and wings to count, I was pleasantly drowsy and full. Snuggling down into the corner of the sofa, I wrapped myself in the soft knitted blanket Nicky kept draped over the back of the couch. This cottage was drafty more often than not, and it seemed I was always shivering, trying to keep warm.

  My eyes had just begun to droop, the droning voices of the announcers providing background noise, when I heard the rumble of a car engine in front of the house. Frowning, I wondered who might be slowing down or even stopping here. I certainly wasn’t expecting company, unless Nicky’s younger sister Daisy had decided to pop by.

  Before I could start to worry too much, the front door opene
d, and Nicky was there, one large bag hooked over his shoulder, a day’s worth of sexy scruff on his jaw and his eyes alight at seeing me. I tried to jump to my feet, but I was so wrapped in the blanket that I couldn’t move.

  “Look at you, all cocooned and cozy.” He dropped the bag and closed the door behind him, getting to me in two long strides. “Don’t move.”

  Within seconds, he was leaning over the couch, scooping me up, blanket and all. I shrieked with laughter when he dropped back down, both us crashing into pile.

  “What are you doing here? You weren’t supposed to be back until Tuesday.” I smoothed my fingers over his cheek and chin.

  Nicky caught my hand in his and kissed my fingertips. “I couldn’t go another day without you. The meetings ended this morning, and everything else was all parties and socializing. Schmoozing, as you call it. I decided I didn’t need any of that as much as I needed you in my arms.” He nuzzled my neck, and I shivered. “I missed you so much, Ky.”

  “I missed you, too. I’m so glad you’re home.” I twined my arms around his neck. “Was the conference good? Did you learn a lot and dazzle all of them with your impressive knowledge?”

  Nicky rolled his eyes. “I did a great deal of listening, that’s for sure. I think I picked up some new ideas. As for dazzling them, I doubt I did that, although I believe a couple were surprised that I seemed to have a decent grasp on the concept of sustainable farming.”

  “I’m sure they were blown away.” I was so giddy with joy that my man was back home with me that my heart was pounding a mile a minute. “You won’t get in trouble for leaving early, will you?”

  He laughed. “No, no one cared. I did what I was meant to do, and it didn’t matter at all that I left.” Stroking my cheek, he lowered his head until his lips touched mine softly. “I need a shower to get all the airplane crap off me, but then, all I want is you. In our bed. Naked.”

  I arched my neck. “I think we can arrange that.”

  “Hmmmm.” Nicky nibbled down the column of my neck. “Any chance you can take off tomorrow? Or even the next couple of days? I’ve got nothing on my calendar until Wednesday morning. We could drive somewhere quiet and secluded and have some time to ourselves.”

  I wrinkled my nose. “Ugh. No, I have a big meeting tomorrow afternoon—it’s been weeks in the planning, and I can’t hand it off to anyone else. I’m sorry.”

  “Ah. Okay, no, don’t apologize.” He swept my hair away from my face. “I’m the one who came back unexpectedly. I’m not going to ask you to put your work on hold, just because my own plans changed.” He grinned down at me. “But your meeting isn’t until afternoon, you said? So maybe you could go in a little late?”

  “I think that could be arranged.” I let my eyes close as I rested my forehead on his shoulder. “I’ll send an email tonight and tell everyone that I’m working at home up until I have to be there for the meeting.”

  “Excellent.” With a grunt, Nicky stood up, lifting me in his arms. “Let’s get started tonight on that work you need to do . . . between the covers.”

  “I feel so much better now.” Nicky stepped out of the bathroom that adjoined our bedroom, rubbing a towel over his short brown hair. Another pristine white towel hung low on his hips, showing off the deep V formed by his chiseled abs. When he took a step, that towel did very little to disguise the way the muscles in his supremely fine ass shifted.

  From my vantage point in the bed, where he’d dumped me unceremoniously a few minutes before, I enjoyed the show. He was, without a doubt, one of the hottest men on the face of the earth, and somehow, he belonged to me.

  “Feel free to drop the towel any time you like.” I quirked one eyebrow at him. “I’m just saying—if you feel like it’s in your way. It won’t bother me one bit.”

  “Watch it there, lady.” He shot me a look of faux outrage. “I think you’re trying to objectify me. I won’t stand for it, you know. I’m not just a piece of eye-candy for you to ogle at will.”

  “Aren’t you, though?” I squinted, not bothering to hide the way I was looking him over. “You said your calendar is empty the next few days. You could stay at home and be a house-boyfriend. When I come home from work, tired and crabby, you can meet me at the door wearing just . . .” I thought about the options for a second. “Oh, I know. Those old jeans you have—the ones that are faded nearly white and mold your ass like hands. No shirt. Just the jeans. And you can have a drink waiting, and then while I’m enjoying that, you can make me a wonderful gourmet dinner.”

  Nicky stood at the end of the bed, his smile growing wider as I spoke. When I’d finished, giggling, he shook his head and whipped off the towel, tossing the damp thing at me before he crawled across the mattress.

  “Is that your fantasy, then?” His eyes glittered as he drank me in. “Having me at your beck and call, to cook and clean and cater to your every whim?”

  I considered. “As fantasies go, that one isn’t half-bad.”

  In a flash, he’d knocked me flat on my back, my head sinking into the softness of a pillow as he held himself over me. “Is that really how you like me? Subservient and at your command?”

  Slowly, I shook my head. “No. Not really. I like you . . .” I reached up to trace his lips. “Over me like this, looking like you could eat me up.”

  “Funny, that’s just exactly what I was thinking of doing.” Lowering his body, he dipped his head to kiss me deeply. As he bracketed my head, his arms tensed, the muscles bulging. I felt cherished and loved, and with a sigh, I reached up to grip the back of his neck and hold him to me even tighter.

  With every brush of his lips, every touch of his fingertips, Nicky showed me his love. His murmurings as he stripped away my clothes and worshiped my body ignited a fire within me that flamed ever hotter.

  Cupping my breast in one hand, he pressed a reverent kiss to the turgid peak. I arched my back, urging him ever closer, threading my fingers through his hair.

  “So soft here,” he whispered. Moving to the other side, he licked around the nipple, toying with it until I moaned. “And perfect, too. You are utterly perfect, my Ky. Every single part of you makes me crazy.”

  I managed a breathless laugh, even as his fingers trailed lower, over my stomach. “I’m not even remotely perfect. But I’m glad that whatever I am is exactly what makes you crazy—because I feel the same way about you.” I slid my hand down his back to grip that perfect ass.

  “Nice how things work out.” Nicky paused to grin up at me before he slid the rest of the way down my body, nudging my legs apart.

  And after that, neither of us said much of anything that made sense for a long while.

  Maybe it was post-orgasmic euphoria—and that was the third orgasm, for those keeping track at home—but as I lay in bed with my head resting comfortably on Nicky’s chest, all of the weekend’s previous gloominess melted away. I was snuggled up with my man, who’d flown long hours home just because he missed me. What did it matter that I couldn’t traipse around town like a tourist or that I didn’t have a bunch of close friends here? As long as we were together . . . that was everything.

  “I was thinking, while I was in Africa.” Nicky’s voice was a low rumble under my ear.

  “Really? Shocking.” I snickered, pressing my face into his warm skin.

  “Very funny.” He pinched my side, making me squirm. “I was thinking about something specific. Specifically, about Thanksgiving.”

  “Were you, now?” I traced the line of his pectoral muscle, and this time, I was the one making him shiver. “And just what were you thinking about Thanksgiving?”

  “That I don’t want to be away from you again—not now, and not for that long. I did some tinkering with my schedule, and it turns out there’s nothing during that week that can’t be changed. So, if you’re amenable, I think I’ll fly to Florida with you.”

  “Amenable?” I pushed up to rest my hands on his breastbone, beaming down into his grinning face. “I’m freaking stoked!”
Framing his face with my hands, I kissed him once, hard and deep. “Are you sure it’s going to be okay, though? I don’t want to mess anything up with your work or your plans. I don’t want you to get in trouble for shirking your duty.”

  “Ky, love, I’m not shirking anything. Nothing that was planned for that time was particularly pressing—just some meetings—and making the changes was easily done.” He combed his fingers through my hair. “And totally worth it, just to see your eyes light up like that.”

  “I’m very happy that you’re coming with me,” I admitted. “I was a little down this weekend—at least, before you came home.”

  “I’m not blind, sweetheart.” Nicky rolled me to the side, running his lips down my neck. “I know the last couple of months have been challenging. I wish I could do something to make it easier. But I’m afraid I’m totally selfish—and the idea of telling you to go back home just to get a break makes me feel . . .” He hesitated. “Well, it takes us back to last year, when I thought pushing you away for your own good was somehow a noble gesture. I think we both figured out that wasn’t working for either of us.”

  “Absolutely not,” I agreed with feeling. “Anyway, I am home, because wherever you are is my home. It’s the only place I want to be.”

  “That is something I like to hear.” Nicky relaxed back into his pillow. “I’m glad we’re decided on Thanksgiving, too. I’ll have to fly a day later than you, just to mitigate the press factor.”

  “Mitigate.” I snorted at the word. “They’ll be there at the airports on either side. Thank God, Honey and Handsome’s beach house has a little bit of privacy—and the part of the beach that belongs to your family’s property is totally secluded. Once we both get there, we won’t have to worry so much.” I paused. “Are you staying with me, or were you planning to open up your grandmother’s house next door for the week?”