A Princess in Maine

by Jen McLaughlin

  “You’re my world. My life. My wife.” He flicked his gaze down my naked body, and I shuddered on the deep breath I took. “But you don’t get to kiss me until I say so. I’m in charge tonight, babe.”

  God, why did he have to be so damn hot when he called me that? He only used it in bed, and only sparingly, because he knew it drove me crazy. Something he liked to use to his advantage. It wasn’t fair…

  But I wouldn’t have it any other way.

  Chapter 6

  She was staring at him for so long, he was starting to think he broke her. She just straddled him, blinking slowly, and breathing unevenly. When Jeremy opened his mouth to ask her if she was okay, she finally moved, her lips curling into a smile. “How did I get so lucky?”

  “I ask myself that every damn day,” he said, running his fingers over the soft skin of her cheek. His other hand was still buried in her hair. “I love you so much it hurts sometimes.”

  “I never want to hurt you,” she whispered, kissing his jaw again. Her soft lips on his skin were tantalizingly distracting. He could never, would never, get enough of it. “I want to make you feel good, instead. Can I make you feel good? Please?”

  She moved down his body, and he let her go this time, though he didn’t release his hold on her hair. It felt too soft. When she flicked her tongue over his other nipple, he groaned and let his eyes close. “Chels…”

  “Let me make you feel good,” she whispered.

  Her skin glided over his as she slid even lower, and then her tongue was on him again, and he threaded his hands through her soft, brown hair. Her mouth closed over his cock, and she sucked on him with the perfect amount of pressure. His Chelsea knew how he liked it, and she knew how to drive him insane, too. Something she took full advantage of.

  Her fingers moved over his tight skin, and her tongue rolled over him with torturous precision. Pleasure rippled out through his veins, and the room was too hot. “Christ.”

  She moaned deep in her throat, setting off a series of vibrations, and he gritted his teeth and pumped his hips, going even deeper in her mouth. She took all he gave her, and then more. Her mouth was hot, and small, and wet—and damn it all to hell, he was going to come. When stars burst into his vision, he let her hair go and tugged on her shoulders. “Enough.”

  Her mouth left him reluctantly, and he positioned her so she was straddling him again. Luckily, she never wore panties to bed, so nothing stood in the way of him claiming her as his. With a push, he was inside her warm heat, and she cried out. He took over, thrusting inside her until her walls tightened around him.

  Even that wasn’t enough for him.

  He had to make her scream.

  “My turn,” he growled.

  He pulled out of her, flipped her on her back, and lowered his head between her thighs. She gasped as his mouth touched her. Her nails scraped his scalp as he worshipped her, and when she cried out, her thighs gripping his head as she came, he climbed back up her body, melded his mouth to hers, and thrust inside her again with a madness he couldn’t deny.

  He needed Chelsea more than he needed air.

  And he couldn’t live without her.

  “Jeremy!” she cried out, arching her back.

  She orgasmed again, clinging to him, and he finally let himself lose control. When he came, she was right there with him, crying out his name again. He’d never grow tired of that.

  Of her needing him as much as he needed her.

  He collapsed on their bed next to her, breathing heavily, his body coated with a thin sheen of sweat. She let out a long breath and rolled toward him, resting her hand on his heart. She smiled at him, closed her eyes…and was asleep. It always amused him how easily she fell asleep at night. There was no transition. She just went from smiling to sleeping in two seconds flat. Chuckling, he rested his hand on hers and leaned across the nightstand to turn off the light.

  As darkness descended around them, he closed his eyes and tried to quiet the unsettling feeling that hadn’t left the base of his spine. She’d apologized, and he forgave her. Still…

  Something wasn’t right.

  He didn’t know what that something was.

  Maybe it was what Paul had said about the Sullivans that was throwing him off. He wanted to believe Chelsea was right, that the crime family was quiet because they no longer had any business with Jeremy or the O’Kanes.

  His gut told him something else was going on.

  Then it hit him what could be bothering him.

  If word of this wedding Chelsea insisted on hosting reached the Sullivans, if they knew that the inn would be hosting a royal wedding, they might decide to use this opportunity to come after the inn. No better time to squeeze someone for cash than when they were vulnerable or had a lot to lose. The Sullivans would know that he and Chelsea couldn’t afford to gamble with the lives of royals.

  And that’s why they never should have agreed to this damn wedding.

  Chapter 7

  It was another hot day, and for the millionth time in my life, I thanked God for the person who had been genius enough to invent air conditioning. Heat wafted into the inn as the royal couple came inside, and I shifted closer to the nearest vent. Jeremy shut the door behind them, and I smiled at Grace as she removed her oversized sunglasses. “Morning.”

  “Good morning,” she said softly. “Phillip, meet Chelsea and Jeremy.”

  I inclined my head and did a half curtsy thing like a complete dork. I had no idea why I did that. He held his hand out to me, and I shook it. His palms were soft, without the calluses that gave Jeremy’s hands a sensual texture. “Nice to meet you.”

  “Likewise,” he said in a heavy accent, smiling.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Jeremy said, shaking hands with the other man. Grace’s prince was tall, easily a few inches over six feet. Phillip had blond hair, blue eyes, and looked every inch a Disney prince. “It’s great to see you again.” He shook Grace’s hand as well, before turning back to Prince Phillip. “Thank you for booking your wedding with us.”

  “Yes, thank you, Grace…and Prince Phillip,” I added.

  “Please, call me Phillip,” he said, his words a little bit stilted. “We are in America.”

  I smiled.

  Jeremy nodded. “Sure thing…uh…Phillip.”

  “Grace told me you were going to show me the grounds today?” the prince asked. “I believe you will show me the privacy…” He paused for a second, and I could only guess he was trying to think of the proper word to use in English. Grace had told me his first language was French. “…measures you plan to take?”

  Jeremy laughed. “That’s what Chelsea told me, too.” He clapped Phillip on the back in that way men do. “Follow me.”

  The two men left the room to discuss their plans, and then we were alone in the foyer. “See? Told you they’d hit it off. Come on. Let’s talk dresses before they come back. Did you have an idea of what kind of dress you’d like, or where you will get it from?”

  Grace followed me, fidgeting with the skirt of her dress. “I was thinking of a ball gown. Fancy. Fairy tale–like. Like Phillip and I.”

  Excitement fluttered in my belly. I loved this stage in the preparations, when everything started falling into place. I always kept a detailed log of the bride’s choices, as a backup for the vendors. “That’s perfect.” I sat, and she sat beside me. A steaming cup of decaf tea rested on the coffee table by her seat, and my coffee was never more than an arm’s length away. “I think you’d look lovely in a dress like that. Would you like to go to Wedding Belles? I can set up an appointment for you. I’m sure Talius has amazing dress boutiques, too. Perhaps you’d like to use a designer from Phillip’s home country?”

  “No, I have to do it here, so no one sees.” She nibbled on her lip and pressed a hand to her stomach. “Can you arrange the appointment for me, as soon as possible? Is the owner discreet?”

  “Absolutely,” I assured her. “I’ll call her right now, and we can
try to get you in sometime next week if she’s free.” I picked up my cell and unlocked it.

  “Next week?” Grace said, her voice terse. “I’m leaving tomorrow.”

  “Wait. Seriously?”

  “I have to go back. Phillip has his duties back in Talius, and even though we aren’t having a traditional Taliusian wedding, there are many things I have to do to prepare,” she said, fidgeting with her dress even more.

  “But…you kind of need to be present to make decisions for your wedding. I’m here to facilitate things, but you have to meet the vendors, and make the decisions you feel are best for your vision for the wedding. So I’ll need you to hang around here, for at least a week, so we can get this all settled.”

  Grace paled. “I can’t. Phillip and I have to go back. I have to do media training, and I need to learn about the global political issues affecting Talius, and everything else that will hopefully help me become a good princess. I can’t stay here.”

  “How are you supposed to meet with vendors, then?” I asked, confused.

  “I…I don’t know.” Grace pulled at a loose thread on her skirt, lowering her head. “I was hoping you’d have someone for that, too. A wedding planner.”

  “No.” I frowned. “Wedding planners usually come to us.”

  “Oh. I just thought…” Grace’s shoulders drooped. “Who do we have to meet?”

  “The florist. The baker. The photographer. The caterer…” I swallowed.

  Grace covered her face and let out a shrill laugh. “How am I supposed to see all these people before I go back to Talius? It’s too much! I wanted to hand over all the planning to a professional, so I could focus on preparing for my new life.”

  The waves of frustration were radiating off her, so I set my phone down and scooted closer. Grace looked like she was about to cry, and I needed to stop it before I was buried in tears. Tears and I were not friends. “Are you having doubts about rushing the wedding through? If so, we can push it back, and try to find a wedding plan—”

  “We can’t.”

  “Why not? Is it Phillip? Will he not let—?”

  “No. It’s not him. It’s everyone else.” Grace lowered her hands, and pressed one to her stomach again, looking slightly green. “You see…I’m pregnant.”

  Well, Grace had managed to throw me for a loop twice now. “Oh. Oh! Congratulations!”

  “Thanks.” Grace managed a small smile, but it faded fast. “We have to marry as quickly as possible, so no one puts two and two together. For the baby to be a legitimate heir to the throne, we need to get married before it’s born.”

  “I get it. I do.”

  I squeezed her hand, because I didn’t want to put her under any more stress than she already was under. It wasn’t good for the baby, but there wasn’t anything else I could do to help her, since I didn’t even know any wedding planners.

  Unless…Could I do it? I mean, I was practically already a wedding planner, wasn’t I? Plus, I was more organized than a drill sergeant’s sock drawer, so I probably wouldn’t mess it up. I could certainly manage meeting with people on her behalf.

  “Fine,” I said. “We’ll pick out a wedding dress today. Then we’ll meet with as many people as we can before you leave and whatever we don’t get to…I’ll handle. I’ll be your wedding planner.”

  “You’d do that for me?” she asked softly, with tears in her eyes.

  “Of course. When will you be back in America?”

  “We were planning on me flying back here in July, two weeks before the wedding. My cousin is also pregnant and due then, so we were planning on using the birth as an excuse. Phillip will arrive the week after.”

  That didn’t exactly give me a lot of time with her in person. “Okay. I’ll make some appointments with the necessary vendors, and I can conference you in to any important meetings on Skype.”

  Grace bit her lip. “Are you sure you can you handle all of that stress, on top of your daily tasks at the inn?”

  It would definitely be a lot more work for me to shoulder, but Grace’s news hit a soft spot inside me, though I’d deny it if anyone asked me. No woman carrying a baby should be upset while planning her wedding. It wasn’t right. Besides, I had plenty of staff to help with the reservations at the inn.

  Would it be stressful for me?

  Hell, yes.

  Was it worth it to make Grace’s wedding perfect?

  Double hell yes.

  “Absolutely,” I said. “I can do it.”

  Chapter 8

  Jeremy gestured toward the ocean. He’d been outside with the prince for a while now, and to be honest, he’d sort of forgotten about the whole royal aspect of it all. He’d never been one to get all worked up over that shit in the first place, though. A dude was a dude, even if he had a fancy title. “Over by the pool, we’ll set up a few men who can watch the cliffs by the ocean, to make sure no one’s taking pictures from that angle. The whole perimeter will be secured, and you won’t have to worry about this showing up on TMZ.”

  Prince Phillip nodded, rubbing his chin. He wore a gray suit that probably cost as much as the damn pool. “If the press is out on the water, they will have the cameras that can reach this inn. We will need a man in a speedboat over there…” He paused, and his brow furrowed, like he was deep in thought. “And tents. We will need tents, the ones that can close on all sides, yes? That way, if someone flies overhead, he won’t be able to see into the wedding.”

  Well, shit. Jeremy hadn’t even thought of the fact that anyone with a high-powered zoom lens could record the ceremony from above the ocean. Joseph, one of Grace’s bodyguards, had mentioned the tents when the prince had introduced Jeremy to the four bodyguards earlier, but Jeremy hadn’t considered what that meant. It only further proved his point that he and Chelsea weren’t ready to handle this wedding.

  “Right,” Jeremy said, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Of course…”

  The prince studied him. It didn’t take a translator to tell him that the royal saw his hesitation. “Do you have such tents? If not, I would, of course, cover the expense.”

  “To be completely honest, we’ve never had a wedding of this magnitude here before, and I was reluctant to take this job because of that. We do have a tent, but it’s not fully enclosed.”

  The prince leaned against the arched entry to the pool area. Jeremy had built it by hand, with lattice and two-by-fours. “Your honesty is appreciated. But yes, since we want complete privacy, we’d like the special tents,” he said in his thick accent. “You will invoice me for the cost of them. I do not mind at all. It is extremely important that no one intrudes on this wedding. It has to be perfect for Grace.”

  Jeremy smiled, because even though the other man was a prince, he was still just a man who wanted to make his woman happy. Jeremy could appreciate that. “It will be. Chelsea and I will make sure of that.”

  “Grace said you two were married here, too. Yes?”

  “Yes.” Jeremy glanced at the spot where he and Chelsea had said I do many months ago. Marrying her was the smartest thing he’d ever done in his life. When she’d come down the aisle in that white dress, when her eyes locked on his, his whole world had shifted. He finally knew what it was like to truly have everything he’d ever wanted. It was something he’d never take for granted. “Ours was the first wedding here, actually. The one that started it all.”

  “Romantic,” Phillip murmured, his gaze fixed on the horizon. “Does anything prepare you for the moment when your beloved walks down the aisle to you?”

  “No,” Jeremy admitted. “Nothing.”

  They were silent for a while, and when Jeremy turned around he was surprised to see the guards. They were so quiet he’d forgotten they were there. The two men, Theodorus and Henning, were dressed in black suits, and followed the prince everywhere he went.

  “Why the personal guards?” Jeremy asked Phillip. “The Secret Service would be willing to protect you on American soil, right?”

&nb
sp; “Yes.” Phillip sighed. “But I am trying to keep our visit low profile. It is my hope that no one will discover we were here today.”

  That was Jeremy’s hope, too. He glanced over his shoulder, reflexively looking out for any trouble. “I plan to help you keep that secret.”

  Phillip squeezed Jeremy’s arm. “Thank you. There are people in my country that aren’t happy I am marrying a commoner, and there have been a few threats on her life.”

  Jeremy stiffened. “So that’s why you’re secretly having the wedding here? You’re not just worried about the media. You’re worried someone might try to hurt Grace, or try to put a stop to the wedding.”

  “Precisely. Fortunately, my country is small enough that I do not have to worry about offending the other heads of state by not inviting them to the ceremony. We will have a grand reception in August for the politicians and the people. Plans are already under way, and we have encouraged the rumor that we will announce our engagement then.”

  Jeremy appreciated the lengths to which Phillip was going to keep the wedding under wraps, but if there were people who wanted Grace dead, what would stop them from coming here and trying to finish the deed before the ceremony? The last thing he and Chelsea needed was a Taliusian hit man lurking around. As if it wasn’t enough that the Sullivans were acting suspiciously. There was no way in hell he and Chelsea should be taking this on right now.

  It could cost them everything.

  Chapter 9

  I held the pink rose up for Grace. It was flawless, its petals soft, its fragrance sweet. Roses were, in my opinion, the perfect wedding flower. They were beautiful and classic.

  It had been a miracle that Violet, the florist, was free today. She had stopped by the inn with some flower samples. For once, the odds were in my favor, and I was rolling with it.

  “What do you think?”

  Grace pursed her lips, then nodded. “Yes, I think the pink American roses with the national Talius daisies would be beautiful together. Elegant. Simple. Pretty. A great mixture of both of our countries. My bouquet should be bigger than my attendants’, and there should be one of each flower in the boutonnieres, with some baby’s breath.”