‘That’s just it. I didn’t know the score. I didn’t know anything.’
He frowned. ‘I’m not sure what you’re getting at.’
She looked down at the ground. Noticed his gloves were there too. She should pick them up for him. They were good ones. Leather lined with cashmere.
‘When I said I hadn’t done it before, I meant any of it. I... I hadn’t done more than kissing.’ Finally she looked up at him. ‘I... I’m a virgin, Finn. A twenty-seven-year-old virgin.’
He stared at her, incredulous. If it hadn’t been so serious she would have laughed out loud at the expression on his face.
‘You’re not serious? You seemed...experienced.’
She screwed up her face. ‘I was learning as I went along. I’d never undone a man’s shirt before in my life. You were a brilliant tutor.’
‘I wouldn’t have known. I couldn’t tell. There was no need for tutoring. But why?’
‘A Montovian princess is meant to go to her marriage a virgin. It’s tradition. Certainty that the husband’s heirs are his own is the theory. I should have been married by the time I was twenty. But, as you know, I resisted that idea and I got older and older. I’ve been waiting longer than was anticipated.’
‘Whoa... This is taking some getting used to.’ He ran his hand through his hair so it stood up in spikes.
‘You don’t mind?’
‘Of course I don’t mind. Why would I mind?’
‘It’s odd, I know.’
‘There’s nothing odd about it. It’s just unbelievable. Although quite precious in a way. You’ve really never made love with a man?’
‘Not even come close.’
‘Surely you’ve fooled around?’
‘No. You’ve got to understand, I’ve never met anyone I wanted to fool around with. There was a boy at uni I liked. But as soon as my parents got wind that I was seeing him they paid him off and I never saw him again. Remember, I’ve always been destined for a marriage with someone of suitable rank. Fooling around just wouldn’t do. Besides, me being a princess was a barrier. Before you, there was someone who interested me—but it never went anywhere because he didn’t want the spotlight that he knew would be on him if we dated. All I met were those suitable suitors.’
‘Who were entirely unsuitable?’
‘You were the first man to see me in my underwear.’
He groaned. She was fascinated by the depth of agony in his groan.
‘Don’t remind me of how sensational you looked. Pink lace against creamy skin...your beautiful long legs. How have you endured going without sex?’
‘It’s never seemed a hardship until now. I didn’t feel I was missing out. I’d never met a man I wanted. Until...until you.’
She looked up at him. Her heart jolted at how utterly handsome he was. She still could hardly believe her hot guy from the wedding was here.
‘You seemed so willing.’
‘I was willing. Believe me, I was willing. I intended to lose my virginity to you.’
‘You what? That night? It was to be your first time?’
‘It might sound cheesy, but you woke me up.’ She felt suddenly shy, but this needed to be said. ‘The first time you kissed me you turned on a switch that flooded me with wants and needs I’d never felt before. It was time.’
‘You chose me?’
‘I chose you.’
He turned away from her, as if to gather his thoughts. Then he swung back to face her. ‘I wish you’d told me. It’s quite a responsibility for a man to be a woman’s first lover. To make sure she enjoys herself.’
‘Oh, I knew I was going to enjoy myself. The way you touched me, the way you made me feel...’ Her heart raced at the memory of it.
He groaned again. ‘Natalia, no. Don’t remind me. Not out here, where we can do nothing about it.’
‘Sorry,’ she said, not feeling sorry at all, and loving the power she had to arouse him as he aroused her.
‘But you stopped me. I thought that you’d suddenly realised how impetuous you were being. We were moving too fast.’
She sighed. How many times since had she regretted stopping him?
‘The protection thing pulled me back to reality. All that stuff I’d blocked because I wanted more than anything for you to carry me to that bed and make love to me. It brought home to me the seriousness of what I intended to do—the risks I would be taking. But most of all I knew I was going back home in the morning. It was so new to me—to want a man the way I wanted you. To make love with you just the once and never again would have been devastating. It wasn’t just about the rules. I was protecting my emotions too.’
He frowned. ‘Why didn’t you tell me at the time that you’re a virgin?’
She took a deep breath. This topic took her sailing back into the troubled waters of her deception. ‘Because then I would have had to tell you the truth about who I really was. And I just couldn’t. Not then, and not afterwards.’
‘And now?’
‘Nothing has changed as far as my royal obligations go. But you’ve come back into my life and I want you just as much. More so.’
‘What does that mean for us?’ he said.
‘You...you’re saying there’s an “us”?’
He turned. ‘Come on, let’s walk further into the forest. I need to think.’
‘Good idea.’
She stooped, picked up his gloves, caught up with him, handed them to him. He stared at them for a moment, as if he didn’t know what they were, before shoving them in his jacket pocket. She realised how difficult, how inconceivable, this—her life, the only life she had known—must seem to him.
He held out his hand to her and she took it. She walked alongside him, steering him in a different direction from the one she knew her cousin and his wife had taken.
He spoke again. ‘At the wedding I started to wonder about an us—an impossible “us”. Because you—so I thought—lived in England, and I’d tried long-distance before and it had been a disaster.’
‘I can see that,’ she murmured. She thrilled to his words. So he’d felt it too, back at the wedding—not just physical attraction, something more, something real, something life-changing.
‘But still I started to think of ways I could perhaps make it work. Then... You know what happened next. You disappeared. An us was never going to happen because there wasn’t a you. Then, at the soirée, the impossible, the amazing, the unbelievable happened and you came into my life again—a you who both was and wasn’t you—and I couldn’t see that there could ever be an us.’
It was a long speech, but Natalia had listened, enthralled. ‘And now?’
‘All I can think of is how much I want there to be an us. How much I want you. When we were admiring those vats of chocolate at the Montovian chocolate factory I was thinking about you, and how wonderful it was to be sharing the experience with you. When I was sampling Matteo’s cheeses I was thinking about how much I wanted to have my arm around you.’
‘And you are in my thoughts constantly. That you’re actually here in Montovia makes me want to dance down the street.’
‘The entire way up here in the car, admiring the scenery, all I wanted to do was pull you into my arms and kiss you senseless.’
‘Why didn’t you?’ she asked, breathless.
‘Because this is so much more complicated than us simply living in different countries on other sides of the world. You’re the Princess of Montovia and I’m an Aussie guy from Sydney. The obstacles are onerous. Not just because you’re a princess. Not just because you live on the other side of the world from me. But because when it comes to my personal life, I’m a cautious kind of guy. I don’t let myself get involved too easily. Dip my toe in the water before I dive right in. I’ve steered clear of serious relationships while I’ve been building the business so rapidly. I
don’t need the distraction of anyone making demands on me.’
‘Oh,’ she said. The hot guy she remembered from the wedding had seemed anything but cautious.
‘But when I met you at the wedding caution didn’t get a look-in. I wanted to jump straight in without hesitation. And was so glad I did because you were amazing. Then I thought I’d never see you again. Now here you are. What a rollercoaster. Man, am I distracted. I want to be distracted. But all we had was a few hours in Sydney with no time to develop anything more than initial sparks. Is that enough to be an us?’
‘It’s a start. And what’s wrong with a strong start?’
He stopped. Turned to her. Put his hands on her shoulders. Urgently searched her face.
‘We need to talk. Because if there is a way ahead for us, now is the time for us to set our feet on the path. If there isn’t, then we have to walk away before we really hurt each other and—’
The sound of stamping feet and muffled laughter, of loud rustlings in the undergrowth made them jump apart.
‘Marco and Amelie—warning us of their approach,’ she said.
She brushed her hair away from her face. ‘Quickly. Do I look okay? Will they be able to tell we’ve been kissing?’
He kissed her again—swiftly, fiercely. ‘You look adorable, beautiful...your cheeks flushed, your eyes sparkling. I want the world to know you’ve just been thoroughly kissed by me. I don’t want us to be skulking around bushes and hiding. We need to talk about our options.’
‘We have options?’ Could she allow herself to hope?
‘Everyone has options. Even the impossible us. We need to analyse and weigh them up if we’re to find our path.’
‘That sounds so businesslike.’
‘That’s the way I am. I don’t trust infatuation as a basis for life-long relationships.’
‘Do you think this—between us—is just infatuation?’ She didn’t doubt what she felt for him went way beyond infatuation.
‘I don’t know. But it feels like something much deeper. It did from the get-go, if I’m to be honest. But it came from nowhere. Lasting relationships to me are partnerships based on a long getting to know each other process. We haven’t been given that. It’s like we’re in a crucible. Your family doesn’t talk dating—it talks marriage. Advance to “Go” before I’ve even got a counter on the board. I always expected there to be time for me to get to know a woman before the word marriage entered into it.’
‘You make it sound impossible.’ She put her hands to her face in despair.
Gently he took them away, looked into her face. ‘Not impossible. Possibilities are what we have to talk about. In the meantime, I suggest you smooth down your hair, wipe that smear of lipstick from the corner of your mouth—here, I’ll do it—then straighten your scarf, and by the time we get back to the chalet you’ll look like all you did on this walk in the forest was explain to me about the regeneration of the wildlife and point out the eagle soaring above us in the sky.’
‘What eagle?’ she asked, looking above her.
When the others appeared, with Marco calling out an alert, that was what they found—her talking to an attentive Finn in her best tour guide voice.
‘And that very eagle, represented with a sword in its beak, is on the crest of the royal family of Montovia.’
Clever Finn for thinking on his feet. For making her laugh. For making her think about possibilities.
But was what they had enough? Was it just infatuation? The thrill of the forbidden? Could she trust whatever had ignited so quickly between them?
When there was a ticking clock on the amount of time they had together how did she know he could give her what she wanted? True love. The kind princesses got in fairy tales, with happy-ever-afters, but the kind that had always seemed elusive to her as a real-life princess.
CHAPTER TWELVE
USUALLY THERE WAS nothing Finn enjoyed more in cold weather than a hearty meal and a good red wine enjoyed in a room lit by a roaring fire. It was the stuff of fantasy for an Australian boy from subtropical Sydney.
Hell, this whole situation he found himself in was the stuff of fantasy.
He was falling for a princess.
But he didn’t know if it was real. He didn’t have anything to compare it to except that long-ago romance with Chiara, which had seemed real enough at the time, but certainly hadn’t felt anything like this.
This intensity, this overwhelming longing to be with Natalia, was something powerful and compelling. He recognised it as the most important emotion he had ever felt. But it was a recognition tinged with caution. He didn’t trust sudden flames that could die out as quickly as they’d flared. Those flames had not been enough to sustain a relationship with Chiara.
The strong marriages in his family were based on partnerships. Didn’t that require a slow burn, a getting-to-know-each-other before any commitment was considered? He wanted certainty. Could he get that with Natalia? He had no idea where such powerful feelings could drive him. But he knew he could not dismiss them.
He was seated next to Natalia at a long wooden table designed for way more than four, but cosy enough just the same. She wore a long purple velvet skirt and a long-sleeved scoop-neck silk knit top in silver—her version of informal dress. His black jeans and black cashmere turtleneck seemed more than appropriate.
At the table, he was being careful to keep a respectable distance apart from her, but she occasionally slipped her hand into his under cover of the tablecloth. Amazing how the simple act of holding hands could be so thrilling when it was with the woman he wanted almost beyond reason.
He didn’t want to let her go.
‘Did you enjoy our menu based on traditional homestyle favourites?’ she asked in her best hostess voice. But her eyes showed more than a hostess should to a single male guest. Did anyone else notice?
‘The cabbage pie was delicious—something new for me. And the roast was superb—I really liked the warm potato salad.’
They were talking about potatoes!
He smiled and surreptitiously squeezed her hand. This single male guest probably wasn’t doing a great job of masking his feelings, either. He suspected Marco and Amelie were aware of what was brewing between him and Natalia, and were complicit without actually coming out in the open with their approval.
The housekeeper was a different matter altogether.
‘Hanna keeps glaring at me,’ he murmured to Natalia. ‘Do you think she’s on to us?’
‘No doubt she suspects something—she’s fond of me and she wouldn’t want to see me hurt. Her generation is fearful of any transgressions of the rules.’
‘And you?’
‘I need to know which rules I’m prepared to break,’ she whispered. ‘And the repercussions I’m prepared to suffer.’
His grip on her hand tightened.
They had to talk.
The evening passed very pleasantly, although all Finn wanted to do was speak to Natalia on her own. He was scheduled to leave Montovia after a mid-morning business meeting the next day, which she was chairing on behalf of Tristan. The clock was ticking down on the time they had together.
It turned out that Marco and Amelie were just as good companions at dinner as they had been at the soirée. Finn learned a lot about living in contemporary Montovia, where young people were testing the old, traditional ways. And they, in turn, were curious about Australia.
‘I would love to visit Sydney,’ Amelie said.
‘You and Marco would be most welcome as my guests if you do so,’ said Finn. ‘I have a large house on the harbour with several guest rooms.’
‘And you, Natalia—you have always wanted to see Sydney, especially after Tristan found his beloved wife there,’ said Marco.
Natalia choked on her chocolate pudding but quickly recovered herself. ‘Yes, it is a dream of mine. I mi
ght even find myself a husband there.’
It was Finn’s turn to choke on his pudding. He quickly downed a glass of Montovian spring water, drawn from a well on the property.
Amelie frowned. ‘Is there something allergenic in this pudding? Please tell me before I try it...’
‘Not to my knowledge,’ Natalia said in a faint voice, fanning her face with her hand. ‘Just...just the sauce is a little hot.’
Finn wished he could be open and honest about how he’d met Natalia. He wasn’t accustomed to lying. Sooner or later he would blunder and make some indiscreet comment that might let the cat out of the bag.
Not long after dessert Marco asked permission for himself and Amelie to leave the table and retire to their room.
‘He has to ask because I’m higher in rank than he is,’ Natalia explained, after they’d said goodnight to the Count and his wife.
She led Finn to the adjoining room. Three large, comfortable brown leather sofas were arranged in front of another toasty fire. Stacked firewood was shelved on both sides of the fireplace and large metal fire tools hung from a rack. The fire gave a warm, inviting glow to the room, and the only other lighting was from table lamps.
‘You have to give him permission? Even though he’s your cousin...your friend?’
‘We’re so used to how things work, we don’t question it,’ she explained. ‘I’m not sure that is something Tristan would be able to convince our father to change—not quickly anyway.’
Natalia sat on the sofa facing the fireplace and patted the seat next to her.
‘I don’t have to ask your permission to be seated?’ he said.
She laughed. ‘Of course not. You’re a foreigner.’
He sighed, and knew it sounded heavy with the weight of his concerns. ‘No wonder I find it difficult to get a handle on how it all works.’
‘I understand how difficult it is for one not born to it. Gemma found it a steep learning curve. She says she still has much to learn. Not just about being royal, but also about being Montovian. But she’s very happy with Tristan and has become a remarkable Crown Princess.’
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