by Carlyn Cade
“You may start a new game with London Affair, Stacia,” the queen commented. “I know I’ve been playing it since Clayton explained the concept of the remake.”
“And what is the game you’ve invented, Mother?” Clay questioned.
“I enjoy trying to match old movies and their stars with those of today who could play their same roles.”
“Stacia already plays your game. She’s good at it too.”
The queen and Stacia began to choose their star choices and soon everyone around the table joined in which opened the door to the formal dinner progressing in a casual manner. Stacia thought the lively conversation made the delicious dinner even more enjoyable.
Later, Stacia and Clay strolled to the pond, crossed its bridge to the center and rested their elbows on the railing. The moonlight shimmered through the clouds. The swans and other birds slept on the shore.
“It’s funny how you don’t even notice the domes when you’re here,” Stacia said. She looked up into the sky as she spoke. “They’re almost invisible.”
“That’s my mother at work again. She wants the view to be as clear as she can make it at all times, so the cleaning crew is kept busy at night while the guests are sleeping.”
“Your mother’s an incredible woman. She’s nice and friendly, yet she commands respect at the same time.”
“You’re also an incredible woman, Stacia, not only because of your beauty, but for what you have accomplished in your life as an actress. And you’re nice and friendly too, yet you command respect at the same time.”
“Thank you, but –”
“No buts. So, you need proof, huh? Well, for one thing, here we stand, the two of us alone, under the moon and stars, romance beaming down at us, and we talk about my mother! And I respect you enough to allow it to happen, instead of taking you in my arms and kissing you, which is what I really want to do.”
“I thought we had an agreement.”
“And I thought we’d negotiated a few kisses in there.”
“I just don’t want things to get serious between us. I value the relationship we have right now.”
“Hey! I got over wanting a sister a long time ago.”
“Why can’t we just be comfortable with each other?”
“Maybe because you have long, red hair, green eyes the color of the sea that bewitch me with your every glance.” He tilted her face upward until their eyes met. “A mouth that’s soft and very kissable – I know from experience. Should I go on?” Clay stopped. “You know, I may be a prince, but more than that, I am all man. A man who knows the woman he wants, and unfortunately for you, that person is you. And unfortunately for me, you don’t want me.” He started to walk away from her. “We might as well head back. I’m out of the mood for moonlight and romance. If it’s only friendship you want, than that’s what you’ll get from now on.”
♥♥
Tears stung Stacia’s eyes as she lay in her bed in the castle. Questions began to pop into her mind. Why had she resisted Clay? Why couldn’t she separate sex and marriage? What was it about the possibility of getting serious enough to consider marriage that scared her? Perhaps he wasn’t interested in marriage anyway. Maybe all he wanted was the chase and the opportunity to make out with her – like most every guy she’d ever dated. After all, someday he’d be the king. How could she possibly fathom for an instant that she could be his queen? That only happened in story books. In real life a little farm girl didn’t marry the big prince. Even Grace Kelly came from an extremely rich family and was very famous as an actress before she married Prince Rainier. She was the exception, and Stacia was the rule against it.
Well, she’d made it this long without sleeping with anyone, and if marriage wasn’t going to happen, maybe she should try the experience with someone she was immensely attracted to – Prince Clayton Alexander. What would it hurt? Everyone else did, why not her? The answer to that was easy enough. She’d never followed what everyone else did in her whole life. She’d walked to her own beat. And because of it, she was an actress in Hollywood, while most of her friends had started their families years ago, and some had moved on to their second husbands.
So, should she make love with Clay? Was love even the right word? Why was she afraid? Probably because she didn’t want to spoil what they had. It could be that simple, but she knew she was just skimming the truth. There was another reason deep down inside her, buried so deep she couldn’t dig it out. Well, why worry about it? Why not just give Clay what he wanted? Kisses. As many as he wanted. If it developed into more, she’d just go along with it. And it would, that much she was certain of, because she knew she was as sexually attracted to him as he claimed he was with her.
Stacia’s last thought before she fell asleep brought a smile to her face. So, why stop the inevitable from happening? Why not help it along?
♥♥
In the morning when she awoke, Stacia’s decision stayed the same. The idea that she could kiss Clay as much as they both wanted, and possibly go further, agreed very much with the sexual feelings running rampant through her at the present time. If he hadn’t turned her temperature up to past the boiling point, perhaps she would have discarded her little seduction scene. However, the only question, which remained now, was how should she begin her temptress role? Simple. Just like she did for every movie role – research the part.
Well, she knew he liked her hair long, so, that’s how she’d wear it. She went over to the mirror and began fluffing her hair. Maybe a few curls around her face would help. He’d said her lips were kissable. They sure didn’t appear that way now. She wet them with her tongue. That’s right, she remembered one way to tease a guy was to wet her lips slowly in front of him. She practiced in the mirror, until she started laughing. She looked so silly.
Get serious, she reminded herself. She reached for her cosmetics, grabbed a pink glossy lipstick and applied it. Then she pouted her lips, one way, then another. She slanted her head to the left, then the right and pursed her lips some more. Same result. She still looked silly! She wondered how the media could ever call her a sex goddess.
He’d mentioned her green eyes. The color of the sea, huh? Well, she knew what to do about that. She took out her green eye shadow to complement her eyes even more and applied it much heavier than usual. Then, she went to her suitcase and pulled out a green strapless tank top, one she normally wore under a blouse because it was so low-cut and skimpy.
Well, she thought. I’d better get my best underwear out. Red, she considered, then tossed out the idea. With a green shirt and red bra, she’d feel like a Christmas tree. Well, I could be his little Christmas present! She grinned at that idea. Black would be better, she decided. That was always sexy. So she slipped into a pair of her black panties. Going without a bra was sexier, and she pulled the snug tank top over her head without one.
She walked back to the mirror. She peered into it, trying to consume the entire picture of the new seductress, Stacia Saunders. Green, low-cut tank top and all. She did a small pirouette and decided that was the best she could do in the clothing department.
Reaching for her eye liner, she used that first, then came the mascara, which she applied coat after coat, like the makeup pros at the studio had taught her to do, until she reached the effect she wanted. “All right, now what’s next? Ooh, don’t forget the eyebrow pencil. Got it.”
When she finished the last of her makeup, she stood back to survey her new creation. Then she started laughing so hard tears came to her eyes, and she had to reapply some of her makeup. This might be the most challenging role of her career. And the most fulfilling in more ways than one, she added to her thoughts.
Realizing she’d better wear a blouse over her top sent Stacia back to her suitcase. She’d shed the blouse when they got to the woods. Anyway, she couldn’t imagine what the king and queen would think if she came to the breakfast table in just that green top with her nipples sticking out. “Let’s see, where’s my tightest pants?” she as
ked talking out loud to herself. She dug in her suitcase again and came up with a pair that should enhance the image she was striving for. “And high heels, they’re a must.” She slipped on a pair of black stiletto heels.
“Well, that’s it. I’m done.” And when she looked in the mirror again, she decided the effect wasn’t bad after all. It had come together nicely, and despite her hard work to resemble a harlot, she still felt like the virgin she was inside. “Okay, Prince Charming, I’m ready for your kisses whenever you are.” She sashayed out the door and went down to breakfast.
♥♥
Once there, the butler informed Stacia that the king and queen had already eaten. He also said Prince Clayton was waiting for her in the atrium when she finished her breakfast. Hunger wasn’t what was on her mind at the moment. So with a quick thanks, but no thanks reply, she headed into the atrium to find Clay. She was feeling quite good about the fact that she didn’t have to face the king and queen, so they couldn’t figure out her mission to entice their son.
“Wow!” Clay said as he came up behind her. “You’re especially gorgeous this morning.”
“Thanks. I feel wonderful. How about you?” She stretched and glanced down, blinked her eyes a couple times, then slowly raised her face to meet his gaze.
“I feel great right now,” he admitted.
Evidently he wasn’t going to say a thing about how he felt last night when he was angry. That’s good, she thought, then she didn’t have to apologize either.
She kept his eyes captive with hers for a few seconds, certain, as always, that she was able to see into his soul. He sure had sexy eyes. A girl could spend the rest of her life just gazing into them. Better get back to business, she decided. “What’s on the schedule for today?” she asked.
“As irresistible as you are, I’m ready to do anything,” he said.
“So am I,” she whispered, again giving him the full benefit of her sea-green eyes. She allowed her voice to return to normal. “How about a picnic by the pond?”
“Anything special you want for lunch? It’ll take a few minutes for the chef to fix it.”
She licked her lips…slowly. “You decide. Whatever sounds good to you.”
“There’s an obvious answer to that.” Clay took her hands in his. “Suppose you tell me what this change from last night is all about.”
“I don’t know what you mean,” she denied and blinked her eyes at him again.
Clay sighed and let go of her hands. “All right. We’ll play it your way.” He took his phone out of his pocket and called the kitchen to issue instructions. “Ten minutes will be fine,” he said to the chef. “Send it out to the golf cart area when you’re finished, please.” He turned toward Stacia. “Okay, Miss Scarlett O’Hara, let’s go.”
“I’m right behind you, Rhett Butler, Sir.”
“Is this where I’m supposed to say, ‘Frankly, Scarlett, I don’t give a damn?’ I hope not, because it wouldn’t be appropriate with my feelings right now.”
“And how do you feel?”
“Ready to do all the things I promised I wouldn’t, Scarlett, Ma’am.”
CHAPTER TEN
...Dr. Fulton arrived at the estate, Victoria’s tattered suitcase in his hand. He gave it to his grand-mère’s butler. The butler told him that Victoria was in the rose garden, and he went directly there. She was seated on a white metal bench next to a large blooming bush caressing one of its large pink roses between her two fingers. She seemed relaxed and at peace. He approached silently and was in front of her before she noticed him.
She looked up. “Oh, Doctor Fulton. I wasn’t expecting you.”
“You mean you forgot about me after only a week?”
“No...no...not at all,” she said as she let go of the rose, then pointed to it with her hand. “I was just thinking of the beautiful pink roses you sent for Lily’s casket. She would have loved them, you know.”
He sat down next to her. “We have to straighten something out right now. I’m no longer Dr. Fulton. I was your sister’s physician. I am not yours, and I believe it would be against the Hippocratic Oath if I accepted you as a patient. I would very much like you to call me Dean. It doesn’t seem right to me somehow that I call you Victoria and you call me Dr. Fulton.” He grinned broadly. “Now, tell me how you’re doing.”
“Your grand-mère’s wonderful. She’s caring, loving, thoughtful, kind. Name any good adjective you want, and that’s her. She’s shared her home with me and her heart. See, I can even do this sometimes now.” She touched her smile.
“I don’t know if you remember or not, but I told you the day you arrived you could stay as long as you want. Even if you can smile a little now, you have a long recovery to go.”
“But I don’t want to become a pest to you or her,” Victoria protested. “Besides, I need to get back to my job.”
“You can never be a pest to me,” he said. “Everything can wait awhile longer. My nurse went to your apartment and packed your things. She also decided to adopt a certain black and white dog she found there. I, however, had a better idea.” He pursed his lips and whistled.
Within seconds, a Dalmatian bounded into the garden, raced to Victoria and jumped on her and started to lick her face.
“Spotty. Oh, Spotty, I love you.” She turned to Dean. “And I…” Then she paused, catching her almost revealing outburst. “Thank you very much,” she said as she averted her eyes.
“Your concern over your job is unnecessary also. I have talked to your boss and requested a leave of absence on your behalf, and he has consented to it. So, see, your troubles are over, and you have nothing to do but heal. And that’s a Dr. Fulton order and a ‘Dean’ one too.”
“Yes sir.” She raised her hand and gave him a small salute...
♥♥
All the way on the drive to the pond one thought kept running through Stacia’s mind. I can do this. I can do this. Peeking at Clay’s profile convinced her it would be no effort at all to melt in his arms, and... even the and…the land she’d never visited, sounded enticing. She reached over and placed her hand on his leg, moving it ever so slightly, hoping to tease him just a bit. “I’m having such a wonderful time,” she said in her best temptress voice.
“It just gets better and better, doesn’t it?” Clay replied, glancing down at her hand.
She placed her right arm across the back of his seat, allowing her fingers to graze the hairline on the back of his neck. Tiny shivers shimmied through her fingertips and spread throughout her entire body. Fantastic! Maybe I should have been doing this for years!
Clay laughed. “Do I need a haircut?” he asked.
She gulped and pulled her arm back. “Not that I can see,” she said. This kind of sneak attack always worked on the guys in the movies. And with her trying it for real, all the man thinks of is a haircut?
“I didn’t mean you should move your arm. I was enjoying your massage.” He smiled at her and reached over, picked up her hand, and put it back on his neck. “Stroke away,” he said.
And she did. Stacia made tiny circles with her fingertips all along his hairline, enjoying what she was touching as much as she hoped he was. She wondered if he remembered making the same size circles in the palm of her hand. She knew she did. He relaxed his shoulders and leaned his head back slightly. Oh, he was enjoying it all right!
“Hmm,” he murmured. “Like I said, today gets better and better.” Clay pulled the cart into the parking lot at the pond. “Let’s picnic,” he said, and grabbed the backpack the chef had prepared and a blanket out of the back seat.
They crossed the bridge and entered the wooded area.
“Let’s go someplace where no one else can find us,” Stacia requested, then seeing the surprised look on his face, quickly added, “Oh, I just mean somewhere that’s private where we won’t be disturbed. Picnics are more fun that way.” Nice rebound, she thought as she congratulated herself.
Clay just smiled and kept walking. After a few bends
and turns on the trail, he stopped next to a small clearing at the foot of the waterfall. “How about this place? Is it private enough?”
“It should do just fine.” More than fine, she thought as she swallowed hard. What a great place to lose her... She’d better stop thinking about that subject right there, before she got herself in deeper than she already was. She peered up at him and blinked slightly, in what she hoped was a flirtatious way. Was he ever going to kiss her, so they could get on with whatever was going to happen?
Clay spread the blanket on the ground. He slipped the backpack off his shoulder and set it down also. “Are you hungry? Do you want to eat now?” he asked.
She shook her head. “My mind’s on other things,” she purred, which wasn’t true at all. She was starving. No breakfast, then this walk. But Ms. Femme Fatale wouldn’t think about eating at this intimate moment, so why should she? Come on, kiss me. She gazed up at him and poured all the sexiness she could manage into her body language. Lips pouted, eyes half-closed, hands planted in her back pockets, chest stuck out and slightly lowered to give him the full vantage point of her ample cleavage.
He just grinned and sat down on the blanket with his back to her and began to zip open the backpack. “Maybe I’ll have a sandwich. I’ve worked up quite an appetite.”
Stacia glared at his back. Was he human? Or didn’t the royal blood running in his veins allow him to be? What more did she need to do to turn him on? She slid off her blouse and let it slip to the ground and knelt down on the blanket behind him, making sure her body was touching his. Then she began to stroke his neck as she had in the car, and began gently massaging his scalp. When he relaxed into her hand as he’d done before, she put her other hand on his shoulder in an effort to turn his body toward her. He turned willingly, and when he did, she put both her arms around his neck and kissed him passionately on the mouth.
