Highness (The Lonely Heart Series)

by Latrivia S. Nelson

  “I love you,” he whispered.

  “I love you,” she answered.

  Looking across the room at the rain beating heavily against the window, Hope closed her eyes as she felt her prince gently push deep inside of her.

  Chapter 19

  It had been ten days since the royal couple had been spotted at Heathrow Airport. And since their appearance, it was as if they had disappeared off the face of the earth. Instead of setting up interviews and coming out publicly the way that Michael had done with Thalia, he instead kept his mouth and his shutters closed. Holed up in the royal apartment on Kensington Palace grounds, he had ordered the best foods, wine and treats that money could buy and decided to stay completely out of the public’s eye.

  It wasn’t that he was ashamed of her. In fact, he was prouder of her than he had ever been of any woman. It was simply that he had made a promise to protect her, and the only way that he could do so was to keep her away from prying eyes until he could train her in the art of public relations.

  Every media outlet on both sides of the Atlantic Ocean had begged for an interview from the Royal Family, but just like Michael, Richard was happy to turn them down. So, the paparazzi was forced to do what they did best – stay outside of the property day and night in hopes of a glimpse of the now internationally known Hope Daniels.

  Just to make sure that they were not interrupted, Michael changed the shifts of the staff to accommodate them when they needed help but to give them more privacy. After all, they liked exploring the rooms of the apartment alone and uninterrupted.

  And while Hope and Michael had not left the house, he had ordered her beautiful clothes from some of the most expensive clothiers in London along with shoes, lingerie and jewelry – just in case they had to make an appearance somewhere. Only, Hope had not managed to wear much outside of the French lace panties and his t-shirts.

  At near dusk on a dreary, rainy Wednesday, Michael and Hope cooked their dinner alone while watching one of Michael’s favorite BBC shows, Copper, on the television mounted on the wall. The perfectly modern kitchen was made for a king with its stainless steel appliances, granite floors and countertops, beautifully designed oak cabinets and top-of-the-line appliances. It was Hope’s dream kitchen. She couldn’t cook enough. Every day, the staff brought more fresh vegetables, fruit and herbs. Every day, more wine and drinks and sweets. She had to remember to pace herself, in case she gained more weight than she needed.

  Preparing an eclectic meal of spring salad, bangers and mash and cottage pie, the two were scantily dressed as normal with Michael in his boxers and Hope in one of his most comfortable tailored Oxfords. With full glasses of wine and several cookbooks out, they laughed and talked over half-burned down fragrant candles and an island table full of ingredients.

  “So, then I tell him the difference between the two is that she actually was once a man,” Michael concludes his joke as he cut up the last of the onions and peppers on the cutting board. “So, it served him right with all of his woman hating.”

  Hope paused in shock. “Wait, really?”

  He nodded. “Really.” Popping a ripe cherry tomato in his heart-shaped mouth, he put the freshly cut vegetables in the bowl with the rest of the ingredients. Its fragrant mix wafted up to his nose and his mouth watered.

  “But I thought she was a woman?” Hope frowned.

  “She is a woman…now.” He shrugged. “You know, after the change.”

  Hope’s brows raised. “Oh…wow. How did he react?”

  “He almost had a heart attack right there. Served the bastard right. She was more of a woman than he could ever handle and more of a man than he’d be.”

  Hope laughed. “Good for her.”

  Walking over to her side of the island, Michael grabbed her by the waist and pulled her to him. Nudging his head into her curly hair, he hugged her. “I have a surprise for you before we finish dinner.”

  She grinned, feeling him harden behind her. “Would that gift be about ten inches?”

  Biting at her ear, he groaned. “That’s on the dessert menu.” Grabbing her hand, he led her out of the kitchen, through the hallway of historic paintings and up the back stairwell to the second level of the house.

  “Where are we going?” she asked curiously.

  “We’re almost there,” he said, so excited he wanted to burst.

  Opening the door to one of the guest bedrooms, he stepped aside.

  Hope walked in and put her hands to her mouth. In complete disbelief, she meandered up to her beautiful paintings all lined up with fresh new supplies to finish her work. The painting that she had left incomplete was sitting by the window with a beautiful little stool and a drop cloth draped below it. And beside it on a modest little table with fresh flowers were pictures of her mother and grandmother – the same photos she had on her nightstand at home.

  “Michael,” she said with tears in her eyes. “I can’t thank you enough.”

  “I had them delivered while you were sleeping today. I’m sorry it took so long for me to collect them, but I knew you needed to get back to your work.” He walked beside her and held her hand as he looked at the painting. “I just wanted you to know that what is important to you is important to me.”

  Turning to him quickly, she hugged him tightly. “Thank you, thank you,” she said, wiping tears of joy.

  Michael was happy that she was happy. It set the mood for what he wanted to ask her next. “So, with your work here, I was hoping that you might consider staying a little while longer.”

  She tilted her head. “How much longer?”

  Forever, Michael thought to himself. Instead, he gave a more realistic timeline. “Until you decide otherwise,” he said, eyes sparkling with promise. “I want you to live here with me.”

  Hope couldn’t deny that she had thought about it, but broaching the subject might make this fairytale too real for him. So, she had simply allowed herself to live in the moment.

  “How will your family react to us living together?” she asked, trying to keep everything in perspective. “You’ve seen the newspapers, and so have I. We’re all that anyone can talk about over here or at home for that matter. I don’t want to make your life any more complicated than I already have.”

  Michael huffed. “You don’t make it complicated. You make it worth living. Since you’ve been here, since I’ve met you, I’ve been a changed man. I can think straight. I feel alive. I know what I want out of life. And I want you.” He brushed through her brown locks. “You complete me, Hope.”

  Awash with emotion, she nodded. She believed his every word, because she felt it as well. She loved him more than any man she had ever loved before.

  “So say yes,” he said with a chuckle. “You have me in all sixes and sevens over here.”

  “Yes,” she said, feeling like it was more of a proposal than an agreement. “I’ll be your live-in girlfriend.”

  ***

  On the other side of Kensington Palace, the mood was not so amicable. Sitting among a room full of counselors, Richard listened as the men argued about his brother and what to do with him. He knew Michael well and he also knew that putting pressure on him to end his relationship with Hope would only push him further into her arms, but he was finally left with no choice.

  “The public is demanding an answer,” one of the counselors said, beating one hand into the other in a very dramatic fashion. “She’s not even British.”

  “She’s not noble. She didn’t graduate from Oxford. She didn’t even graduate from Harvard. She went to art school for goodness sake,” another man argued.

  “What if he gets her pregnant? A child would disrupt the very fabric of this country,” William said as he stared out of the window at the rain. “This is a very volatile situation. She could bring the entire country down, Your Highness.”

  Richard had heard enough. Shifting in his chair by the fireplace, he rubbed the head of his Jack Russell, Porgie, waved his hand dismissively. “I’ve heard
quite enough.”

  The men, all rumbling about, quickly quieted down, to hear what Richard had to say. He looked around at the men who were all conspiring against his brother and felt a sudden sense of regret for Michael. The boy had never truly been happy and he knew that whatever decision they came to tonight, would not make him any happier, but this was a matter of state, not of the heart.

  “I am going to present him with everything that has been said,” Richard said, picking up his glass of water to stop the tickle in the back of his throat. “I’m going to present him with Thalia’s offer,” he said, looking over at her father, who was conspiring more than any other in the room. “And I’m going to present Hope with the royal offer,” he said looking at William.

  “And what if they both deny all offers?” Thalia’s father asked.

  “This isn’t a dictatorship,” Richard said with a sneer. “And let me all remind you that my brother is still your soon-to-be-king. Keep your head about yourself with this plotting lest he find a way to figuratively take it off when he comes into power. Trust that any decision that is made, he will know who made it, because I will tell him. I will not leave this world a liar and a cheater of hearts. I will be persuasive and just, but the ultimate decision lies with him.”

  There was a tight stillness in the room. Most thought that Richard might be conversely heavy-handed about Michael’s future, but it seemed that the hours and hours of conversation had only softened his position and sickened him with grief. Plus, the idea that Michael would know exactly who had a hand in this proposal might not bode well for everyone in the room.

  Richard sank down in his chair, sick with not only physical pain but sorrow. “Leave me now,” he ordered, looking into the fire. “And William.”

  “Yes, Your Highness,” William answered quickly as he filed into a line to leave the study with the rest of the men.

  Richard pursed his lips together. “Send Geoff in.”

  “Yes, Your Highness.”

  Geoff was standing outside with the rest of the various security details, waiting on direction. However, he knew, unlike the rest of the men around him, exactly what was going on behind those closed doors and that it would all come down to how far Richard was willing to push Michael. In order to actually get the desired outcome, however, that push would have to be off a cliff.

  As Geoff eyed his older brother, William coming out of the study obviously exhausted from the conversation, he could tell by the worried look on his brother’s face that things were not good.

  “Prince Richard would like a word with you,” William said, resting his hand on his brother’s shoulder. “I need you to think of the crown and do exactly as he asks. It’s no secret how close you and Michael are, but this is bigger than friendship.”

  Geoff hated that his brother felt the need to remind him. Without a word, he walked into the door and closed it behind him.

  Richard had finally found his way up out of his chair and was making himself another stiff drink. From various quiet reports around the palace, it was being said that Richard, normally a very sober man, had taken to drinking more when he was alone – not that Geoff could blame him. When a man’s mortality was nearing its end, one tended to numb the pain of the inevitable.

  “Would you like one?” Richard asked, raising his crystal tumbler. It caught the light of the embers from the fire just across the way from him.

  “Yes,” Geoff said, politely. After all, why should the man be made to drink alone?

  Richard gladly poured him a glass and then offered it to him.

  Geoff took it and nodded. Quietly, he waited for instruction.

  Richard, however, wasn’t exactly ready to get to that. “You’re the only one out of all these bastards who knows my brother and you’re the only one who has met Hope Daniels.”

  Geoff wasn’t sure if that was a question or not but answered. “Yes.”

  Richard raised a brow. “Well, what are your thoughts on their relationship?”

  Now, he’d need the drink. Taking a gulp of the scotch, he relaxed his shoulders a bit “It’s serious.”

  “As in love?”

  Geoff’s right eye twitched. “As in love.”

  “But so quickly,” Richard said, scratching his brow in confusion. “You know he’s never been the type to move quickly. What about this girl…” He corrected himself. “What about this woman, in your honest opinion, has changed him.”

  Geoff did feel that Michael had changed. He had seen him grow as a person in a few short weeks, but he didn’t feel that it was all due to Hope. Michael had been hurt by Thalia’s confession, but it had also opened his eyes to what he could be potentially missing in a relationship.

  “She is real,” Geoff said, following Richard as they walked, back to his chair.

  “Go on,” Richard said, truly intrigued. “In what way is she so real?”

  That was such a fluid question until Geoff truly had to take pause. He took another gulp and licked his lips. “Michael has never felt good enough. And I say this with the utmost respect for you, sir.”

  “Of course you do. There are no airs here. We are just two men talking,” Richard said sincerely. “Please, go on, Geoff. I value your opinion.”

  “And I appreciate it, sir,” Geoff said, taking a seat beside him. Legs spread and elbows on his knees, he tried to find the best way to say what needed to be said. “I don’t pretend to know how hard it is to be born to royal blood. While my family has always honorably been in service to your family, we are…commoners. That’s never been a bad thing in my eyes, because it has allowed us to see the world in a different light and provide a different perspective for you. But Michael has always seemed different. He never desired the crown. He wanted to make his own way and do his own thing, and I think that he despised the idea that he was so close in line to be King, because with that responsibility came more attention from the media and the fans and the rest of the world.”

  Richard agreed. “Since he was a boy, I’ve noticed the same. But I’m inclined to believe that he will be a better king for it.”

  Geoff shrugged. “That could be. But growing up in your shadow was never easy for him. Sure, he got the girls and the popularity because of his looks, but you were so fucking put together.” He abruptly stopped and cringed. “Forgive my profanity.”

  Richard quipped. “Not a fucking problem.”

  Geoff exhaled and took another drink. “Hope doesn’t seem to care at all about his title. I know for a fact that she couldn’t see him, so she didn’t even know he was handsome. She had no idea he had even a pound to his name. When she fell for him, it was instantaneous and it was genuine.”

  “Exactly what Michael was looking for,” Richard said, finishing his drink. “Exactly what I told him wasn’t possible.”

  “You said it,” Geoff said, sitting back in the chair. “He loves her for her honesty and her ambition and how tough she is. She lost her family; he lost his father. They both have been hurt by the people that they thought loved them. They are sort of kindred spirits.”

  Richard understood perfectly. “And now here we are plotting like Brutus and his senate in the middle of the night to stab Caesar in the back.” He put down his glass. “I’m not proud of it. And I’ll not hide my hand. But have you seen the newspapers. Have you heard the public outcry? Because they have not given an interview or one explanation of their relationship, speculation is at the highest that I’ve ever seen.”

  “Maybe they should give an interview then?” Geoff said, knowing that was not the direction that the conversation was going.

  Richard rubbed his hand over his smoothly shaven face. “I love my brother. I always have. After father passed, I swore to do my absolute best by him, and that’s why it shames me to say this, but certain ties must be severed.”

  Geoff didn’t answer. There was no need to answer. He wasn’t here to make a final decision, just to deliver a message. Knowing his place, he settled for hiding his approval behind one
final gulp of scotch. “What does Your Highness require of me,” he said formally.

  ***

  Hope had settled into the studio and began to work, so Michael excused himself and went to his study to handle some unattended responsibilities. It was strange. Although she was only a few rooms away, he felt she was too far. It was hard for him to concentrate as he tapped on his computer. He wanted to go back into the studio, grab a seat and watch her work. Better yet, he wanted to throw her on the floor and make love to her again.

  He tried hard to get a grip on his emotions, but they grew exponentially by the day? Was this what love truly was? If so, he had been sorely misguided before. Hope was brilliant, funny and just. She was so incredibly honest until he found it hard not to ask her what she thought on all subjects in his life.

  There was one subject in particular that was looming in the front of his thoughts. With Richard getting ready to take the seat when his mother passed, which would be a long while, based upon how well physically, she was. It left Michael with nothing but time to think of his own life. He had talked to Hope about his desire to return to Africa and continue with his work there. He wanted to continue his work at the village he had spent so much time in and work on further developing his infrastructure. He wanted to travel the continent to continue to talk with leaders about better schools and better global opportunities. He wanted to get the hell away from London.

  And where Thalia had quickly tore down his idea, Hope found it to be a remarkable one. And when he had asked if she would travel with him, she had agreed.

  There were a few other questions now that he wanted to ask. But he felt foolish about them. After all, while he was in love, he was still a sensible man. And Hope was a sensible woman. He didn’t want to scare her away with too much at once. But maybe since he had convinced her to stay in London with him, he could also convince her of his other proposals.