Royal Holiday

by McKenna James

  Someone finally stumbled through the door, gravel crunching under their shaky footing. A maid exited with a chef leaning heavily against her, drunk as a skunk. She had to kick the door open wide to make enough space for the both of them.

  “I told you to go easy on the wine,” she grumbled.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, hiccupping between his words.

  “Stand up straight, Alfred. I can’t do this by myself. Where’d you park your car?”

  “Can’t remember.”

  The maid groaned in frustration, but continued forward, dragging poor Alfred along with her. She was too distracted by her drunk friend to notice me slip out from behind the bushes, sneaking in through the crack in the door. I made it inside just as it clicked shut again.

  I breathed a heavy sigh of relief. A chill snaked its way down my spine at the sudden change in temperature. It was nice and warm inside the palace. The only obstacle I now had to face was finding my way through its winding halls.

  It had been almost ten years since I thoroughly explored the palace. I wasn’t surprised to see that this section was completely different compared to my memories of it. Countless renovation projects and the repurposing of rooms made this place foreign to me. I was a mouse stuck in the middle of a seemingly endless maze. I willed my heart to calm down. All I needed to do was locate a primary hallway. From there, I’d likely be able to orient myself and find my way to Marina.

  Very quietly, I tiptoed down the length of the hall, overly conscious of how loud my footsteps were against the frigid tiles. I pulled off the delivery hat and uniform jacket, dressing a marble bust of some historical figure in Brooklandian history that I happened across. I had on a simple button-down shirt made of white cotton. Running a hand through my messy hair, I brushed away the strands that had fallen before my face. I needed to look my best when I finally ran into Marina.

  Except that was starting to feel like an incredibly impossible task. No matter how many turns I took, no matter how many steps I ventured, I found myself hopelessly lost. I tried following the sounds of the party, but found myself at a dead end. I backtracked several times, walking through different doors that led me nowhere. On several instances, I had to dart out of sight into a vacant storage room or behind one of the many display pedestals featuring priceless works of sculpted art to avoid royal guards on their patrol.

  I didn’t want to think about what they’d do to me if I got caught. I was already risking life behind bars for trespassing. I’d hate for anyone to think I was here to spy on the Royal Family on behalf of my father. That’d land me a lifetime sentence in prison for sure.

  I silently cursed myself. How much time had passed? Was it almost midnight? The clock was ticking, and I was still hopelessly lost.

  A bitter voice in the back of my head called me a fool. I should have known something like this would happen. I should have figured out an easier way to see Marina. But what other options did I have? There was no possibility of sending an actual invitation. Anything with my family’s name on it would have been thrown in the shredder. And it wasn’t like I could show up directly on the palace’s front steps asking to see Marina. I’d be kicked out the second I showed up.

  My frustration was starting to cloud my thoughts. Why did this palace have to be so ridiculously huge? What were all these empty rooms for? What was the point of all this space? Did I just come through here, or was this hall new? If I didn’t find my way soon, I was probably going to starve to death in some abandoned corner of the palace. This place was so vast that it would probably take several years before anyone stumbled upon my shriveled up body.

  I shook my head free of the morbid thoughts. It was Christmas Eve, for goodness sake. I needed to stay positive.

  I finally made it to a main hallway. I could tell because it was nearly double as wide as the previous corridors, and it was well illuminated by the line of crystal chandeliers hanging from the arched ceilings above. I poked my head around the corner to see if the coast was clear. The sounds of the party had died down almost completely, so I had very little to guide me toward the main banquet hall. Relying solely on my memories of playing tag with Marina in the main wing, I picked up the pace, starting to recognize the area around me.

  When I made it to the banquet hall, I paused at the grand archway. There was a sprig of mistletoe taped just above my head, but Marina was nowhere in sight. My heart sank into the pit of my stomach. Maybe she gave up. I wouldn’t blame her if she did. When the grandfather clock in the grand hall struck a single tone, its note a deep chime vibrating straight through my chest, I knew I’d failed. I missed my chance.

  Marina was probably furious with me. She probably hated my guts. She didn’t know they were my guts specifically, but still. The thought of her waiting for me only for me not to show made my heart twist, made my stomach tie itself into a neat little knot. I should have been faster. I should have planned better. There were a million and one things I could have done to make this go smoother than it had.

  Now I was tired and alone and cold. The thought of returning the way I’d came made my nose crinkle in annoyance. I couldn’t just leave through the front gates. I was going to have to sneak out again, and I really wasn’t looking forward to getting lost on my way back out.

  Leaning against the archway, I allowed myself a moment’s rest. This was by far the most disappointing Christmas I’d ever had. Scanning the banquet hall, I drank in the details of the decorations. Pieces of wrapping paper littered the floor close to the tree, empty plates of food remained on the service tables—nothing but little crumbs remaining. The fire was still going, but it was starting to die, soft orange flames flickering about calmly as it cast shadows against the marble floor.

  It was then, and only then, that I noticed someone sitting in a comfy leather armchair next to the Christmas tree. Their back was to me, and the dim lighting made it difficult to see their face. It was a woman, balled up and leaning to one side, barely awake.

  I held my breath, approaching as quiet as a mouse. A rising hope started to bottle up in my chest.

  Could it be her? Could it be Marina? Please, let it be Marina.

  She was dressed in a pair of dark blue jeans and a lovely green blouse made of silk, gold dangling earrings framing either side of her face. Marina’s eyes were closed, thick and full lashes looking divinely soft. She’d let her hair down, pretty locks of gold pooling over one shoulder. Her knees were tucked against her chest, heels wedged beneath her and the leather of her seat. This was the closest we’d been since the cocktail party, but in my heart, I knew it wasn’t close enough.

  She was absolutely mesmerizing to look at. Everything about her screamed elegance and grace, even when she was sound asleep and simply sitting there. I smiled to myself as memories of a hyper, constantly giggling Marina popped into my head. She used to be super energetic, always on the go. Sitting here by the fire, I could really appreciate the beautiful young woman she had become. There was something angelic about her, something otherworldly and ethereal. I felt like I could stare at her sleeping face for hours, drinking in every detail like a man as parched as the desert.

  My heart was railing against my rib cage. Marina actually waited for me. Now that the moment to reveal myself was finally here, doubt came crashing down over me. What if she didn’t want to be with me? What if I left her disappointed? What if she wanted nothing to do with me because of all the friction between our families? I needed an answer, but I didn’t know what I’d do if it wasn’t the one I wanted to hear.

  I couldn’t take it anymore. I’d kept her waiting long enough.

  Gently, I placed my hand upon hers. Her skin was delightfully soft and warm thanks to the fire. I adored how easily her hand fit in my palm, like they were made for each other.

  Marina stirred, opening her eyes slowly. She gazed at me, confusion knotting her brows together. Realization swept across her eyes quickly, her mouth dropping open slightly in surprise.

  “I’m sorry I
’m late,” I whispered. “I had quite the adventure trying to get to you.”

  She stared at me a while longer, dazed. I wondered if she thought she was dreaming.

  “Rodrigo?” she said so softly I almost didn’t hear it over the crackle of the fireplace.

  I grinned. “Hey, sleepyhead.”

  She sat up straight, leaning forward. Marina reached out with a hand and grazed the line of my jaw with her fingertips. A brilliant smile crept across her lips. “It was you?”

  I nodded. “Yes. Are you surprised?”

  “Of course I’m surprised. Why didn’t you just tell me?”

  I shrugged a shoulder, glancing away for the briefest moment. “Our families. I was afraid you’d reject me before I even had a chance.”

  She shook her head and laughed quietly. Her voice was sweet and high and sounded like music in my ears. It filled my veins with a heat I’d never experienced before, something that made me feel doubly alive and thrilled to be in her presence.

  “I wouldn’t have,” she said gently.

  “Yeah, well… Your buddy Brandon made me doubt myself.”

  Marina carefully ran a hand through my hair before cupping my face in her palms. Her touch left my skull tingling, tiny sparks leaping from her fingers and fizzling between the strands of my hair.

  “How did you get in here?” she asked.

  “It’s a long story. It might have involved a disguise and getting lost.”

  She giggled, the corners of her eyes crinkling as she smiled even wider. “How could you get lost?”

  I laughed. “Don’t even get me started.”

  Marina leaned in as she pulled me close, kissing me directly on the heel of my last word. Our lips slid together perfectly, soft at first, exploratory. I breathed in her scent of sweet vanilla and rich chocolates, feeling fuller and more at ease beneath her touch. She sighed contently, the warmth of her breath tickling my face.

  My heart was close to bursting with untamable glee. This wasn’t a dream. Marina really was here. She was here and kissing me, and everything felt right with the world. How was it that the taste of her lips could make me feel so whole, so complete?

  I slipped my arms around her waist, still kneeling at her side. I circled her in my embrace, marveling at how small she was against me. Once upon a time, Marina and I were the exact same height. We used to measure ourselves, back to back, to see who was taller. She always seemed to be a centimeter bigger, but now the difference was all too clear. Marina felt tiny against me, adorably cute and small. I wanted to handle her with care, touch her tenderly as I explored every inch of her body.

  Something inside me awoke. It was hungry and desperate for more than just simple, sweet kisses. Now that I had Marina within my grasp, I knew there was no way I was going to let her go.

  I kissed her harder, teasing her lips apart with the tip of my tongue. A soft moan escaped from Marina’s throat as her tongue danced over mine, just as keen. She wrapped her arms around my neck and leaned forward out of her chair, falling from her seat directly on top of me. The press of her soft breasts against me drove me up the wall, the front of my pants hardening with an undeniable need for her. She was incredibly light, so it was an easy enough task to roll us both over so that I was the one pinning her down. Marina arched into me, hooking one of her legs over my hip to stay as close as possible.

  The crackle of a security radio echoed out in the hall.

  Marina and I both froze, petrified. My heart stopped beating altogether. I glanced at her, a silent and urgent conversation passing between us. If we were caught together, there’d be trouble. Neither of us dared to move, afraid that any sudden moments would draw the attention of the guards on patrol. We stayed deathly silent, listening with great relief once we heard the sound of retreating footsteps.

  My fingers were buzzing with adrenaline. Whether it was from the thrill of having Marina in my arms, or if it was from almost being discovered, I couldn’t tell.

  Marina hooked a long, slender finger over the edge of my shirt collar and tugged me down, brushing her lips coyly against mine.

  “Come with me,” she whispered.

  I was more than happy to oblige.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Marina

  I could hardly believe it. My white knight had been Rodrigo all along. Everything suddenly clicked into place. When I closed my eyes, I could finally see my secret admirer’s old face, not just the sharp line of his jaw and the fullness of his lips. Now my white knight had big, impossibly blue eyes that left me absolutely awestruck. I could finally admire his high cheekbones, his serious brow, that tiny freckle at the very edge of his left temple. Who would have thought after ten years, I’d finally have Rodrigo back in my life? Who would have thought he grew up to be such a romantic, charming young man?

  This wasn’t just sex. This was something deeper, more profound. As we stumbled into my private chambers, I was initially worried that this would be awkward. How did old friends turn into new lovers without a bit of fumbling? I supposed that a decade spent apart, some flirtatious love letters, and a little Christmas magic could do the trick.

  Every time Rodrigo kissed me, the rest of the world fell away. There was nothing except the two of us sharing this secret moment. The second the door to my room clicked shut, he picked me up in his arms with his impressive strength. He carried me over to the edge of my bed, setting me down gently like some precious antique.

  The last time we shared a bed together was when we were five. His father and mine used to have late, passionate talks concerning politics into the wee hours of the morning. Rodrigo was once afraid of the dark, too scared to sleep alone. So our solution was to snuggle close. It was perfectly innocent; our shared company a guaranteed repellent to all things that went bump in the night. It was hard to believe that the little boy of my memories was now this strong, sinfully gorgeous man who’d braved the odds just to get to me. Rodrigo was literally risking his neck to be here.

  I knew somewhere deep down that Rodrigo was off-limits. He was right to be concerned about our parents’ frigid relationship. The King and Senator Sabatino’s very public, very nasty rivalry wasn’t going to be easy for Rodrigo and me to navigate. But that just made me want him more. I pushed the nagging voice in the back of my head deeper into my subconscious. I wanted to stay in the present, wanted to savor every second that I was with him.

  As I pulled my blouse up and over my head, he hovered over me, pupils blown wide with desire. He made quick work of the buttons of his shirt before casting the offending fabric off, to be forgotten on the floor. The moonlight that seeped in through the crack in the curtains painted his strong, broad chest in pale light, drawing my eyes to the hard lines of his pecs and abs. I reached for him, peppering butterfly kisses down the length of his stomach as my hands roamed impatiently. I was fascinated by the rolling muscles beneath his skin, the way his chest moved up and down as he breathed heavily.

  I eventually found my way to the front of his pants, undoing the button and zipper that kept him closed off to me. Before I could expose the hardness beneath, Rodrigo impatiently snatched me by the wrists and pressed forward, pinning my hands above my head against the sheets. He was able to keep me there with a single extended hand, dragging his fingertips down the length of my neck and over the delicate lace of my bra. He teased my hard nipple through the fabric, giving it a gentle pinch.

  I threw my head back and moaned, attempting to keep my voice quiet. Rumors had a tendency to spread quickly through the palace, so I was going to do everything to keep Rodrigo my dirty little secret.

  He lay down on top of me, positioning himself perfectly between my legs as he began to grind against me. Every inch of my body ached for him, needed him closer than he was. A pooling heat was beginning to build deep within me, something undeniable and entirely thrilling. Rodrigo mouthed at the crook of my neck, hot tongue searing against my skin.

  “God, I want you,” he groaned into my ear.

  I
nibbled at his bottom lip, sucking hard enough to feel him grow even harder against me. “Then take me.”

  Something devilishly sexy flashed across his baby blues. With blinding speed, he helped tug off my pants and underwear, leaving me to the task of flinging off my bra. I lay naked before him, my skin burning hotter than the sun wherever he touched me. He dragged his hands over my breasts, gave them a tender squeeze, before sweeping them down the flat of my stomach. He parted my knees and kissed a line all the way down from my navel to the sensitive, throbbing want between my thighs.

  A quick flick of his tongue and I was already shuddering with pleasure, gripping at the cool sheets beneath him for some semblance of control. I closed my eyes and concentrated on the sensation of his tongue circling about, poking in, teasing me in ways I didn’t know I wanted to be teased. I reached down and threaded my fingers in his hair, like I was looking for some sort of rein to guide Rodrigo.

  But he needed no guidance. There was intent with every move he made, attention to detail combined with a great deal of care. I couldn’t help but wonder how he’d perfected these skills. Had there been other women in his life before me? Had his hands touched someone else with this much care, this much desire? It wasn’t long before those thoughts fell right out of my head, the tightening heat in the pit of my stomach growing too intense to focus on anything else.

  “Rodrigo,” I gasped, shivering against him as electricity sparked through my veins. “Oh my God, Rodrigo, just like that! Just like–”

  A deep, languid moan ripped through me as I came undone. My mind blanked in an instant, pure euphoria spiking through me to rid all thoughts and concerns.

  I’d had sex before, but my previous dalliance could barely hold a candle to the way Rodrigo showered me with affection. My first time was with a distant cousin’s best friend, Peter. Mother really seemed to like him, thought he was a perfect gentleman and all that. She approved of the match, but seemed far more invested in the relationship than me. Peter and I didn’t last very long, only a couple of months or so. There just wasn’t a connection, a spark. He always finished first, and I was always disappointed. It was unsatisfying. Boring, really. Until now, I thought that was just how it was.