Courting His Royal Highness

by Any Hahn

  "Feel better?"

  "Yeah, I think so.” Chloe sat down on one of the poolside chairs. “You don't really have to stay with me."

  "I insist.” He sat down beside her and draped one strong arm around her. “It would be ungentlemanly of me to leave a woman all by herself."

  She glanced around and was surprised to find they were alone. She was surpised no one else was enjoying the beautiful evening. She raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Trying to save me?” she teased.

  "I'm feeling in character."

  "Well, I don't need saving, Mr. Bond."

  "So, you're the independent type."

  Chloe raised her chin. “Yep."

  He tweaked the end of her nose. “Well, I'd like to try."

  Her heart stopped beating and dropped to her toes. The man was flirting with her. A James Bond lookalike with sky-blue eyes and a heavenly smile and gorgeous laugh and muscular body was actually flirting with her, Chloe Tanner, a Midwestern farm girl. Unbelievable. Her luck really had changed.

  The food arrived, and she happily grabbed her plate. Her stomach growled so loudly that she thought she would die from embarrassment.

  "Did you know Marilyn Monroe posed for an ad for suntan lotion on that diving board?"

  The debonair British spy, complete with foreign accent, followed her line of sight. “I didn't know that. Fascinating."

  "And did you also know her ghost haunts the mirror next to the elevators?” She loved Hollywood trivia. Her friends sometimes called her obsessed, due to the amount of celebrity and movie magazines she subscribed to. It was her little hobby, besides yoga and snorkeling.

  His blue eyes met hers. “You are full of interesting trivia."

  "Do you know anything about your character?” She gestured to his attire before filling her mouth with a spoon overflowing with Dracula pasta. She could eat a boatload, but she didn't want to scare him away. She noticed he wasn't eating a thing.

  "I do own the James Bond DVD collection; however, I admit I am not a film fanatic."

  She swallowed the pasta and piled another spoonful full. “Are you calling me crazy?"

  "Most certainly not. I don't have a whole lot of time to watch movies."

  She gaped at him. “Everyone loves movies."

  He shrugged. His hand rested along the side of her thigh. She could feel the burn of his skin through the thin fabric of her gown. She hoped he liked black lace underwear. Jeez, what was she thinking? She had known this guy a total of twenty minutes, and already she couldn't wait to jump into bed with him. But who wouldn't want to go to bed with James Bond? Every man wanted to be him. Every woman wanted to be with him—and not in the purely platonic way.

  "In my line of work, I don't have too much free time."

  She chewed the last of her pasta and took a generous gulp of water. “What do you do?"

  He shook his head and placed two fingers against her lips. “Not now. Not yet."

  Boy, he was secretive. Exactly like James Bond. She began to wonder if this man really thought he was the guy with a license to kill.

  Her lips tingled from his touch. She tried to concentrate on the food. It was delicious. Only the best for EVE's famous Halloween Ball.

  "Okay, so what's your real name?"

  "Just call me Max."

  "Okay, Max, nice to meet you."

  "And your name, my queen?"

  She gazed into his blue eyes and melted. No way was she leaving the party without some lovin’ from this man. Her friends would kill her if she let him slip through her fingers. She could fulfill every woman's fantasy—a daunting task. But someone had to do it.

  "Chloe."

  His cheeks dimpled for her in the moonlight. “A classic name."

  She wrinkled her nose. “It was my grandmother's. I never liked it."

  "I think it suits you. A beautiful name for a beautiful woman."

  Her cheeks flamed. Heck, she felt as though her entire face blazed fire-engine red. He was a flatterer. Big time. And she rather liked it—it was nice to be complimented.

  "Nice to meet you, Chloe."

  "And you, Max."

  They shook hands again. Her skin sizzled. She couldn't remember the last time a man had affected her so. It was thrilling and just a tad bit scary.

  Music drifted out through the open windows and doors, enveloping them in a dreamy melody. It was big band music. Just the type Chloe loved.

  "Care to dance with me?"

  Her eyes widened. “I'd love to, but I have to warn you I'm not a very good dancer."

  Max pulled her onto her feet. “Well, I happen to be a pro."

  She rolled her eyes. “Aren't we cocky."

  "I only speak the truth."

  He lowered his face. She could feel his breath against her cheek, scented with alcohol and spices. Scrumptious. Her legs turned to spaghetti. She leaned against him heavily, very afraid her knees would give out. He cupped her hand in his, and she rested the other on his shoulder. His fingers lightly touched the small of her back as he guided her around the rectangular pool in a spine-tingling waltz, which made her dizzier than the three glasses of wine she had gulped down.

  He definitely spoke the truth: he was a spectacular dancer. He belonged in a ballroom. He belonged in a tux. He possessed an arrogance and demeanor that suggested he lived an affluent lifestyle, James Bond or not. Maybe he was a super spy; right now, she didn't care. She only wished to enjoy the moment. Being held in his arms, so close to his body, made her breathless. The fragrance of his cologne wrapped her in a romantic cocoon. For a moment, she became a glamorous movie star from Hollywood's golden age, dancing with her handsome leading man underneath the moon and stars and the historic Roosevelt Hotel.

  The song ended. He pulled her close beneath a palm tree. She wrapped her arms about his neck and tilted her head back so she could look up into his handsome face. Her hair cascaded over his arm, and the annoying fairy wings hit her head. Her heart thundered wildly in her breast; he was going to kiss her. She was sure of it. Her woman's instinct told her so.

  Max lowered his head over hers, and Chloe closed her eyes in response. His lips brushed against hers, lightly and tenderly. She sighed into his mouth, and the kiss deepened. Then he dragged her up against his tall frame until her hips grazed his groin. Feeling the hardness of his arousal, she gasped. As his tongue plunged into the moist cave of her mouth, Chloe responded hungrily and held him tightly. In her belly, the spark of desire he'd ignited flamed into a fire out of control.

  "I want you,” he whispered into the sensitive tunnel of her ear.

  She shivered and groaned. While his teeth nibbled on her earlobe, the tip of his tongue traced the curve of her ear. “We just met,” she whispered, curling her body closer alongside his, his erection hard against her middle.

  Max's hands entwined in the tresses of her long hair.

  "I want you, Chloe. Come up to my room."

  She blinked up at him. Wanton lust made his blue eyes black as the night surrounding them. She saw her face reflected in his eyes. Her lips swollen, her face flushed, her brown eyes opened wide with pleasure. The desire in her eyes mirrored his.

  "Yes,” she murmured huskily. She didn't know what she was doing—and she didn't care. She only knew she ached for the man holding her in his arms, the man whose kisses caused her heart to race and her blood to heat.

  He kissed her again with urgent, demanding, possessive lips. She responded eagerly, meeting each kiss with equal fervor, entangling her fingers in his hair and arching her neck as he showered a hot trail of kisses up and down its slender length.

  "Why not right here?” she murmured brazenly. “I don't think I can wait until your room."

  He grinned at her. Straight, white, beautiful teeth flashed in the darkness.

  "What a bold suggestion from a maiden fairy."

  She smiled languidly at his teasing. “Who said I was a maiden fairy?"

  He chuckled. “I'm glad I came to this party."

  Ch
loe fluttered her eyelashes. “Because of me?"

  Max's hot, appreciative stare made Chloe flush. “Most definitely because of you."

  She grabbed his tie, glancing over his shoulder and surveying the surroundings. “We're all alone. Make love to me, my super spy."

  He moaned and covered her lips with his again. She didn't mind when he pushed her roughly against the uneven bark of the palm tree; the coarseness of the bark seemed to escalate her arousal. She felt reckless, completely and totally reckless, and she thrilled at her inhibition. No one would ever believe she would do something so outlandish, so erotic, and so totally passionate.

  He suddenly pulled away.

  "What?” she asked. She could hear disappointment in her voice. She didn't want him to stop. She never wanted him to stop.

  Concern mingled with desire in his blue eyes. “I don't want to take advantage of you."

  "I'm not drunk."

  "Really?” He wiggled his eyebrows at her. She noticed for the first time how perfect they were, black and thick, but not Peter Gallagher thick.

  Chloe slapped him playfully on the shoulder. “Really. I can drink a few glasses of wine and still be in control.” And she wasn't drunk. Okay, so she might be a bit tipsy. But she knew what she wanted, as clear as a California day: she wanted him. She wanted him bad. The ache between her legs throbbed with a fiery intensity.

  He gave her a wicked grin. “I want you out of control."

  She kissed him hard. “Make me out of control,” she challenged.

  The passion in his eyes darkened. He held her close, held her tight, and she cried out, rubbing her body hungrily against his. When he sucked at her neck, the edges of his teeth grazing her sensitive skin, Chloe thought she would die from want. She clung to him, her knees weak, her body tingling.

  "Max,” she moaned softly. “Oh, Max."

  She could feel his smile against her skin. He pushed away the bodice of her Regency-style dress. She felt the cool October air upon her skin. And then she felt his tongue, moist and hot, on the swell of her breast. She cried out in pleasure. His mouth closed over her nipple, and she writhed against him.

  "Yes, oh, yes,” she murmured.

  Her hands tangled in his hair. Her heartbeat accelerated. She wrapped one long leg around his waist, pulling him closer with the pressure of her calf until his hands cupped her backside. His fingers inched the silken fabric of her gown up the curve of her leg, and she purred in delicious rapture when she felt the tips of his fingers tease the lace edging of her underwear.

  Suddenly, common sense loomed its sensible head.

  "Max.” It was a breathless sigh.

  "Yes, gorgeous?"

  His fingers caressed her inner thighs. She trembled and clutched at his broad shoulders. Her insides turned to liquid honey.

  "Protection?” she whimpered.

  He drew back. His ebony eyes smoldered. “Not with me. Not here."

  Her heart plummeted. She couldn't in good conscience make love to a strange man without a condom. She splayed her fingers across his chest.

  "I don't have any either. I'm not the type of girl to sleep around. And I didn't expect to meet someone like you at this party."

  "Someone you couldn't resist?"

  She saw his teeth flash in the shadows. Her heart flip-flopped. Gosh, he was sexy. And she wanted him. Oh, boy, did she want him. At that moment he seemed just as important—if not more so—than the air she breathed.

  "Max—"

  "Come up to my room."

  "But—"

  Max pressed hot and urgent lips against hers. She shuddered and returned his kiss. It was deep and thorough and unbelievably erotic.

  "Upstairs. I have all we need in my bedroom."

  His husky voice tickled her ear. She turned her face to him, and he captured her lips with his again so she couldn't breathe. It was heavenly. He was irresistible, and she didn't even know his last name. Her mother would faint dead away at her behavior.

  "Okay,” she murmured.

  He took her hand and led her across the pool area, through the lobby, and to his seventh-floor room. They almost lost control in the elevator. His searching, passionate, hot kisses drove Chloe out of her mind. She kissed him while he fumbled for his room key, brushed her hands over his pulsating arousal, unbuttoned his shirt, and whispered seductive words into his ear. When at last he swiped the key and pushed open the door, he pushed her into the room roughly, slammed the door behind them with his foot, and crushed her to the wall.

  "You drive a man mad.” He began to undo the long row of buttons down her back.

  She laughed. It was a low, sultry, spicy laugh unfamiliar to her ears.

  "Got to get this dress off.” He unhooked the last pearl button, and the dress slid forward.

  Chloe watched him in fascination. He pulled the dress from her body. It shimmered in the soft light drifting through the window and landed in a pool at her feet. The fairy wings, connected to the dress, glowed in the midst of ruby softness. Her bra soon followed. Max dipped his head and started to suckle her. Her cries were impossible to stop. His fingers wrapped around her wrists, and he pinned her to the wall.

  "Max!” she screamed. She felt she would climax simply from his foreplay.

  He practically tore her lace underwear from her pulsing body, kissing her bare shoulders and her belly and the gentle swell of her hips.

  He swept her up in his arms and carried her to the king-size bed, where he dropped her upon it and then vanished for a moment. She lay sprawled across it, encased only in her thigh-high black stockings, every inch of her skin tingling and alive. Light shone from the bathroom. She saw his reflection in the mirror as he rummaged for the condom.

  "Found it.” He held the small package up triumphantly, switched off the light, and returned to her side.

  "I feel lonely all naked by myself."

  "Well, we don't want that.” He smiled at her again, that amazing, sexy, adorable smile.

  It was Chloe's undoing.

  "I need you now, Max. Now."

  "And I need you."

  She kissed him hard. He shrugged off his tux jacket and white shirt; then he ripped open the package at the same moment Chloe unzipped his pants. He was naked as a jailbird in no time and armored for penetration. Chloe couldn't wait any longer. She wrapped her legs around his waist, and they tumbled onto the bed in a flurry of entwined limbs, scorching kisses, and caressing hands.

  Chloe was hot and moist and ready for him. He was hard and throbbing, and she guided him with insistent hands towards her center.

  "No more foreplay,” she whispered. She gazed into his blazing eyes. “Now."

  He plunged deep inside her and she closed around him, welcoming him home. His mouth smothered her scream of ecstasy as his long, driving strokes caused her insides to tremble and pulse. Her body moved in perfect sync with his. She thrust up against him, sheathing him deeper inside her. When her head hit the headboard, she hardly noticed—her body was a river of pleasure. It was pure bliss. It was like touching a bit of heaven. Nothing could compare.

  He held her close against him, raising her body to meet his. One of his hands cradled her head, the other her lower back. She climaxed first, and her orgasm sent her sprawling back onto the bed. He came seconds later, collapsing on top of her heaving body.

  For a moment, neither said a word. Chloe could hear his rapid breathing and feel the erratic pounding of his heart. She held him gently in her arms, kissing the top of his dark head. He was beautiful—the most beautiful man she had ever been with—and she didn't want to let him go.

  "Stay with me.” He elbowed his arms on either side of her head.

  She glanced over at the clock. Only ten o'clock. She had two hours to spend in the warm cocoon of his strong arms. Looking back into his handsome face, she knew leaving now was not an option—she needed a good cuddle.

  "I'll stay."

  He kissed her. She kissed him back.

  "But I have to leave
at midnight."

  He pulled out of her body with tantalizing slowness and curled against her, spooning her tenderly. She sank against his strong frame, closed her eyes, and released a happy sigh.

  "You are amazing."

  His complimentary whisper made her smile. “Thanks."

  His lips brushed her collarbone. “I mean AMAZING."

  She giggled, making small circles on his forearm with her fingers. “Thanks. And no words can describe you."

  "And you thought I was cocky about knowing how to dance,” he uttered into the curls of her hair. “Now I'll really be impossible."

  A comfortable silence descended around them. It wasn't long before Chloe heard his breathing slow. She called his name softly, but he didn't respond. She turned slowly towards him and found his eyes closed—he was fast asleep.

  For the next two hours she watched him sleep. She kissed his nose and his lips and the curve of his cheek. And on the stroke of midnight, she rose from the warm bed and grabbed her discarded wardrobe, which was littered all across the floor. As she slipped into Queen Mab's velvety dress, she spied a magazine on the nightstand beside Max's bed and skimmed her fingers across the glossy cover. Her eyes widened when she spied Max's face. His charismatic smile caused her heart to flutter.

  "What the—?” She picked up the magazine and walked to the bathroom, pulling the door halfway closed behind her and flipping on the light. She gasped in surprise when she read the headline: Romalia's Prince Max Stars in Reality TV Show.

  "Omigod!” The magazine nearly slipped from her fingers. She glanced back at the bed, where Max was still snoring peacefully. Apparently he hadn't heard her startled outburst.

  Why didn't I recognize him? He's the most famous prince in the world, and I didn't know who he was?

  "I just slept with the world's most famous bachelor!” She clutched the magazine so tightly the pages crumpled. “And he might be my co-worker!"

  She was shocked, completely floored. This was not the best way to begin a professional working relationship. Chloe sat down on the toilet and flipped the magazine open to the article. She quickly skimmed it and was relieved to read he denied any truth to the rumor he was slated to star in an upcoming reality show.