I’d retired to my room but not slept. The scent of the handsome stranger lingered all around me. So much so I was surprised nobody had noticed it on my return. Whenever I’d lifted my hand to my face during the night I’d smelt him on my fingers, and when I exhaled I was sure I breathed sex. I wondered what my husband-to-be would make of my behaviour. Would he banish me from the royal suite and take in another? Would he think of me as impure? I’d smiled at the thought of being impure. Good girl Madeline. Straight as a dye. Permanently correct and true. Secret hussy.
I’d finally drifted to sleep with only one regret. That I hadn’t given all of myself over in that dingy yard. That I hadn’t bent over and allowed him to penetrate me. To break the royal seal. Those were the dreams dominating my subconscious when Claudia woke me first thing to prepare for the day’s events. They were still the images circling behind my eyes as I sat in this grand hall, flanked by Mother and Father, waiting for my prince to come.
‘I’ll ask you one more time, Madeline,’ Father whispered in my ear. ‘You promise nothing happened last night that you’ll live to regret?’
I dropped my eyes to my knees hidden behind the delicate baby-blue fabric of my carefully selected two-piece suit. ‘Yes, Daddy, I promise.’
‘Oh Ronald,’ Mother protested. ‘We’ve been through this a hundred times. Will you let the child relax?’
Relax? How was I to relax? I’m sitting in an uncomfortable throne on a raised platform in the middle of an overbearing room. I feel like shackled prey waiting for the zookeeper to release a hungry predator. They’ve preened and primped me to within an inch of my life, not that you’d know it because the look they’ve achieved is pure as the driven snow. Gone is the hot-red lipstick of last night, and in its place, they’ve coated my mouth in a subtle peach gloss. The fringe I’d had cut in specifically for last night no longer hides my face from view. My team of stylists have teased it back into a soft chignon. The shoes on my feet are of a conservative height. No more towering stiletto heels for me. Those boots, the ones I wore last night, are history because princesses don’t wear that stuff.
Then, all too soon, there’s a loud knock on the huge ornate door. One knock. Two knock. Three knocks. My prince has arrived. But I’m not prepared. I’ve forgotten what I’m supposed to say. To do. Do I look him in the eye when he walks in or do I keep my face low? Oh my goodness. They’ve drilled this stuff into me over and over again, but I just can’t remember. I sense my parents stand so do the same. Straightening out the material of my skirt with my gloved hands. Two uniformed guards, who had until now been standing as still as statues in the room's corner’s, march to the grand double doors. They pause, waiting for Mother and Father to Nod their permission to open them. I whisper over and over, ‘please don’t nod, please don’t nod’ but they do. It’s time. The guards lift their hands, pause again, and in complete sync with one another pull at the doors so they gape open. Presenting the Henley family.
Sickness lurches in my stomach and I close my eyes to centre my focus. The last thing I want to do is vomit on the polished floor. Wouldn’t that be the best introduction to my husband-to-be? The Henley family enter the room and stop at the foot of the steps leading to the platform.
A guard to the right of my father marches forward two steps, the thud of his boots jar my insides. In a voice which sounds perfected by years of training, he says. ‘Presenting King and Queen Lottisham of Blundell and their daughter, Princess Madeline Lottisham.’
I suppose this is where I need to open my eyes, look my fate in the eye and begin falling in love. I blink back the tears, which I swore I wouldn’t shed and face my future. Shock rocks my core. Standing just five feet away is somebody I thought I’d never see again. I watch as his face morphs from a warm smile to frigid recognition. It’s him. My five minutes of madness. The man I dropped to my knees for to experience, just once, what it would be like to be somebody else. The man I spent the entire night telling myself I would need to forget ever existed is standing before me as my intended. My husband-to-be is a man-whore who accepts sexual favours from complete strangers. Things couldn’t get any worse than this.
Chapter Five
Brice
It’s her. She’s here. I blink hard thinking maybe my eyes are playing tricks on me and I’m putting her face where another woman’s should be. But no. It’s definitely her. The princess who has apparently spent her entire life training to be the perfect queen is far from it. I’m frozen to the spot and can feel all eyes on me. They’re waiting for me to acknowledge her but my head is spinning. Father clears his throat, prompting me into action.
I step forward and bow ‘It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Princess Madeline,’ I say.
She too, is hesitant. She’s shaking like a leaf up there and I wonder why. Is it fear about what I’ll do or say? No wonder nothing about her made sense. I knew there was something strange about her, something that didn’t add up. But I would never have imagined this. Eventually, she places one delicate ankle behind the other and she folds respectfully into a perfect curtsy.
‘Your highness,’ she says, her voice carries a quiver, a far cry from the confident one which brazenly told me what dirty things she had in mind last night. ‘It’s truly an honour to meet you.’
She’s good. Very good. But I need to know. Which is the true Princess Madeline? The elegant woman standing before me now or the temptress who fell to her knees before me last night.
I raise my chin and turn to address my parents. ‘I appreciate that this is out of protocol but would anybody object if I had a moment alone with Princess Madeline.’ They exchange confused looks, and all colour drains from the princess’s pretty cheeks. ‘If you could please wait for us in the dining hall where a feast awaits, we shall join you shortly.’
My father opens his mouth to protest, but Mother reaches for his hand. ‘Of course, Son. As you wish.’
Everybody files out in relative silence, leaving us alone in the vast hall. I glare at her not sure how to open the conversation. Her eyes sparkle with unshed tears and I can’t help but laugh. Now she wants to be a delicate flower.
‘So, Princess Madeline. Aren’t you quite the Jekyll and Hyde?’
Her tears fall but she doesn’t wipe them away. ‘I don’t know what to say. Last night. That wasn’t me. It was somebody else.’
I arch my eyebrow. ‘Oh, so you have a twin. Or do you have a dissociative disorder I should know about before committing to a lifetime of marriage with you?’
She steps forward, close enough for the sweet scent I thought I’d never have the pleasure of savouring again shrouds me. ‘Please, let me explain. I was scared. Trapped. I needed—’
‘You needed to what? Behave like a whore for one last time?’ She flinches and I hate myself for saying such vile words, especially aiming them towards a woman. I really do, but I can’t help myself. I’m angry. Fuming. ‘You lied to me.’
Her face crumples. ‘I didn’t lie to you,’ she squeaks. ‘I didn’t tell you a single lie. Not one.’
‘You allowed me to believe you were in trouble. You did things I should never have let you do, then you left.’
She’s shaking her head as though I’m lying. As though I’m making the entire thing up. Then a fire seems to light in her belly. ‘That’s not how it was,’ she argues. ‘Besides, you’re not exactly innocent in all of this.’
I guffaw. ‘I’d like to know how I lied. Never, not once, did an untruth pass my lips.’
‘You made me believe you’d had a troubled childhood. That you grew up on hard times.’ She laughs and raises her hands to gesture around the room; we’re surrounded by obnoxiously large portraits of my ancestors. ‘Some hardship you encountered, huh? You wouldn’t know personal burdon if it jumped up and bit you on the ass.’
‘And what do you know of personal burdon? A pampered princess with her entire life mapped out for her. You’re lined up to marry into one of the wealthiest families in the world. Your every
need tended to. You need not drop to your knees and perform fellatio on a strange man in a public place. That behaviour is not intended for girls like you.’
She storms down the red-carpeted steps and stops just inches from me. If her eyes were weapons, they’d be daggers. ‘How dare you? What do you know of girls like me? Besides, it’s not like you fought to keep your royal sword under wraps.’
We’re just inches from one another and the proximity is killing me. There’s something about her that’s causing a stir in my trousers. She’s rebellious. She’s strong-willed. She’s feisty. She’s everything I never imagined she would be. I can’t help myself. I grab her by the arms and yank her towards me.
‘What are you doing?’ She just about has the time to say before I clamp my mouth onto hers.
Her mouth is firm at first. Unwilling to part for me. But it will. I know it will. I kiss harder. I lick at her velvety lips with my tongue until they fall open. Until she responds and her tongue finds mine. I wrap my arms around her back and hold her trembling body tight. I press my groin to hers so she knows of my hardness. So there is no doubt in her mind that I want to finish what we started last night. I want to fuck her. Instead of fighting my embrace, her pliable body melts into mine. Her breath becomes laboured under my touch and I know that she wants to do the same. I know in that instant that far from being a bore in the bedroom she’s likely to be an insatiable rocket.
Madeline
What am I doing? Who is this woman? The one locked in a passionate embrace with her intended. The one allowing him to kiss her feverishly. The one returning his excitement with equal fury. This is not how today was supposed be. Today is supposed to signify the beginning of the end of the life that I never truly began. His hands have slithered up to my temples, and he’s holding on like he never wants to let go. His fingers are in my hair, and his mouth is devouring me like I’m his last meal. My carefully applied make-up will be trashed. My hair a mess. My underwear ruined.
I break my mouth from his. ‘Prince Brice, this isn’t right. It’s wrong.’ I say, but there is no conviction behind my words. Probably because despite what I say it feels so right. ‘I’m not that kind of girl. I don’t know what I’m doing. I’ve never…’
He grins wickedly. ‘If you want me to stop, then I will.’
He disentangles his fingers from my hair and trails his hands down to my throat, they descend further until his palms cup my chest, my engorged breasts are screaming for attention, sending sparks to every single nerve ending in my body. The ones nestled deep between my legs in particular.
‘Somebody could walk in at any moment.’ My mouth is protesting, but my body betrays me by arching into his touch. Sending him every wrong signal under the sun.
‘That didn’t bother you last night,’ he argues, dipping his face and nibbling behind my ear. He’s found a weak spot I never knew I had and my head lolls back, lapping up the attention. ‘So why should it bother you now?’
I find the strength to push him away and my body despairs at me. ‘Brice, we cannot do this. Not here. Not like this.’
He pouts playfully. God, he’s handsome. Far more handsome than my memory had spent all night recalling.
‘If not now, then when?’ His hands are cupping my hips as he pulls me closer to him. My sex clenches at the hardness hidden behind his dress trousers. ‘Tonight.’ He answers his own question when I can’t fathom a suitable response. ‘Come to my suite tonight.’
Fear engulfs me. ‘Tonight? But how? I’m already in so much trouble for absconding last night. They’ll never let me out of their sight. Not for a second.’
He furrows his brow. ‘Fine, this afternoon. As soon as we’ve announced our engagement.’
I gasp. ‘Our engagement?’
He removes his hands from my hips and tucks my dishevelled hair behind my ear. I tip my head into his hands like a cat seeking attention from its owner. ‘That’s what you’re here for isn’t it?’
My head spins and I blink hard to process what he’s saying. He wants to marry me. Despite my behaviour last night and despite how easily I’ve fallen into his arms yet again. ‘Well yes. To meet you and begin getting to know one another before any final decisions are made. But I don’t know you? How can I believe that you don’t go out on the prowl every weekend? That you don’t have a hundred lovers on the go right now. That your behaviour will never change?’
‘I don’t hunt for women and I have no lovers. Well, I had no lovers until last night. And there is no behaviour that warrants change besides a lifetime of chastity.’
I blush. ‘You’re a virgin too?’
He looks at his wristwatch. ‘Well, I am. But only for about another two hours.’ He takes a deep inhalation. ‘This is what will happen now, Madeline. We will walk through that door together. We will announce that we want to marry and that we don’t want to waste any time. We will accept their congratulations and join in the celebration. And when our parents retire to the drawing-room to discuss everything you will tell your lady-in-waiting that you need some air and she is to accompany you into the gardens. I will wait by the west wing. You will lose your lady-in-waiting and I will make a very, very dishonest woman of you. Do you understand?’
I do. At least I think I do. It’s all so much. My head is screaming no, don’t do it, he will only use you and humiliate you. My heart is stuttering all over the place with indecision but my sex, well my sex is already one step ahead of me and clamping with expectation.
‘Let’s do it,’ I say. ‘Fuck it. Let’s do it. What could go wrong?’
Chapter Six
Madeline
‘Are you absolutely sure?’ Mother’s face has turned an interesting shade of grey. All their faces have. Brice announcing that we want to marry as soon as possible has knocked the socks off our parents and every other important party in attendance.
‘Yes, Mother,’ I confirm, praying that I’d tucked every stray strand of hair back into place. ‘Prince Brice and I both understand that our union is the best thing for the country.’ I flash my eyes up at my husband-to-be, but before that, my lover. ‘And for one another.’
They exchange quizzical glances before Brice’s mother speaks. ‘Well, in that case,’ she stands and walks around to where we’re standing shoulder to shoulder. She wraps her hands around my arms and locks her kindly eyes onto mine. ‘Welcome to the family.’ She leans forward and kisses both of my cheeks, and I wonder if she can smell her son’s cologne on my skin.
She invites us to sit and eat. And we do. We sit directly opposite each other. Celebrations happen around us as the others drink wine with their food but I abstain, I want a clear head for what’s about to happen and I’m glad to see that so too is Brice. The celebrations go on for far too long and is the most extreme form of torture for a woman waiting in eager anticipation to finally give away her virginity. It’s decided that it’s time for celebrations to move to the drawing-room and Brice gives the signal that it’s time for us to also retreat.
‘With a dry mouth, I turn to my lady-in-waiting. 'Claudia, I think the celebrations have made my head a little woozy. Would you mind accompanying me into the gardens?’
‘Of course, ma’am, shall I also call a doctor?’
Panic makes me answer too quickly. ‘No, no. That won’t be necessary. I just need some fresh air.’
She takes my arm, and we make our way to the door. I cast an anxious look over my shoulder to Brice who is still sitting at the table but nods that all will be well and I believe him.
Once outside I turn to Claudia, my ever faithful friend, and tell her the truth about what’s about to happen. Inevitably she tries to talk me out of it. Arguing that after last night everybody is on high alert. I tell her I just need a small amount of time and that I will be back before anybody even notices I’m missing. She relents, and we part ways at the entrance to the west wing where I stand, awaiting Prince Brice Henley, a hodgepodge of emotions.
‘Boo,’ he startles me.
He pouts and draws me close. My thundering heart hammers against his broad chest. ‘In that case, Princess Madeline, let’s see if there’s a way I can help you relax.’ He wraps his fingers around mine and steps back. ‘Come, let me show you my private quarters.’
I chew on my bottom lip. ‘I sure hope you’re planning on showing me an awful lot more than that.’
He tugs gently on my arm to lead me both to his room and astray. ‘Quite an incorrigible little wench aren’t you,’ he says.
I smile both inwardly and outwardly, knowing already that wherever this man goes, I will follow. Being married to Prince Brice will not be half as dull as I’d imagined. I trail along behind keeping my wits about me. If I’m not lustily admiring his sinewy back, I’m glancing over my shoulder, the fear of being caught making my legs tremble.
Eventually, he thrusts open a heavy oak door and tugs me inside. He pops his head back out to make sure nobody’s around and turns to me with eyes black with lust. His expression is pure hunger. He growls before launching himself towards me and kisses me with unbridled passion. Our lips lock, our teeth clash, our tongues fight. His arms roam down my back, his hands squeeze my bottom, pulling me into him and making his hardness very, very clear. I run my hands up his taut stomach and find his tie. My fingers fumble to undo it, it always looks so easy when I see men fling off their formal attire at the end of a busy day but I have no idea how to remove the thing. Luckily his impatience takes hold, he bats my hands out of the way and with deft fingers, undoes the knot and threads it from beneath his shirt collar. He tosses it away then turns his attention to my jacket. He undoes the four oversize buttons holding the garment together and yanks the starchy clothing from my shoulders. He barely takes a second to drink in the sight of my nipples, protruding through the silk of my camisole, before he dips his face and takes one into his mouth and sucks hard. The sensation of his wet mouth through the material takes my breath away, and I gasp in delight. He mumbles something about there being no time before his mouth once again finds mine. He kisses me violently, with a passion I never knew existed, and locked together as one we travel into another room. All the while our desperate and eager hands explore one another’s bodies. Shoes fall to the wayside. Belts unbuckle. Buttons flick open. My hair tumbles loose. I’m more than ready for this. He’s more than ready for this. This is going to happen.
Impulsive Price Page 3
