The Princess and the Prepper

by Barbara Elsborg

  This was why he avoided women. It all got too complicated, too quickly. He hadn’t fucked her just because she was here, yet that’s what she’d think. Maybe it was easier to let her believe he was as much of a bastard as the guy she’d run from. The only difference between them? The bruises Grant left wouldn’t show.

  He headed for the bathroom to get rid of the condom and avoided looking in the mirror because he knew what he’d see. When he walked back into the bedroom, Lili was curled up under the covers, only her hair showing. He gritted his teeth and opened the door to the living room. Shadow quietly growled.

  “Want to go out?”

  The wolf gave him a lingering look of disappointment before he bounded into the night.

  “Yeah, I know,” Grant muttered.

  Lili hadn’t moved when he returned. He grabbed his pants, shirt, laptop, and power cable and went back to the living room. He might as well use the opportunity to write. He dressed, grabbed a beer from the fridge and settled on the couch. To his surprise, words flowed in a way they hadn’t for weeks. He thought of another plot twist, added it to his notes, and continued to type.

  When he finally saved and closed his document, it was three in the morning. There was nothing he wanted more than to curl up in bed next to Lili, but he dragged the throw over his body and lay on the couch. It wasn’t comfortable.

  It served him right.

  ***

  Grant woke to the smell of burning. He jerked upright and checked the stove. Fine. His gaze moved from there to the kitchen.

  Lili cast him a stricken look. “I was trying to make pancakes for you.”

  He padded to her side and bit back his laugh at the sight of the three burned shapes in the sink.

  “I managed the coffee, though,” she said.

  He poured himself a mug, took a sip and spat it out. “Arrggh.”

  “Is that not right either?” She looked on the point of tears. “Sorry. I wanted to thank you for letting me stay. I’m useless at everything.”

  He tugged her into his arms, aware she was naked under his shirt. “I think we found at least one thing last night you were very good at.”

  When she let him hold her, he breathed a sigh of relief into her hair. Had his “thanks” of last night been forgotten, or at least forgiven?

  “I never learned the basic things,” she said and pulled away. “I know how to set a table when there are twelve courses, I can fold a napkin in ten different ways, I can say hello and good-bye in eight languages, but I can’t even make a cup of coffee.”

  “You used too much, that’s all. It’s a little strong.”

  “I did wonder when the spoon sizzled.”

  He laughed. “Sit down. I’ll make us breakfast.”

  “Let me watch.”

  Grant sucked in a breath when she wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed her chest against his back.

  “How long could you survive up here?” she asked. “Assuming nuclear war didn’t break out or you weren’t overrun by zombies.”

  He chuckled. “Quite a time. Fuel for the generator would eventually give out, but I can cook on the stove, there’s a couple of solar panels on the roof, and enough wood out there to keep me going for a long time.”

  “Wood in here, too.” She slid her fingers over his happy cock and massaged gently.

  His willpower dissolved.

  “Can you wait for your breakfast if I have mine now?” he asked.

  He smiled as her hand stilled. Lili squealed when he spun around, scooped her up, and set her on the edge of the counter. He put his hands on her knees and spread his fingers.

  “I’m not very filling,” she whispered.

  “I like small and tasty.”

  He slid his hands up her thighs as he stared into her eyes. While one part of his head told him this was a bad idea, that leaving her alone in his bed last night had drawn a line in the sand, the other part of his head and the rest of his body, particularly one strident voice below his waist, told him to go wherever the current took him. She wanted him. He wanted her. It was enough.

  Grant unfastened the buttons on the shirt and sucked in a breath. “You didn’t leave anything switched on, did you? Because I don’t want to take my eyes off you to check.”

  “Everything’s off,” she whispered.

  He kissed her nipples, smiling as they hardened in his mouth. As he licked and sucked her breasts, his hands danced on her legs, creeping up her thighs until his thumbs reached the damp heat of her folds. He slid his mouth down to meet his fingers, and he buried his face between her legs, fluttering his tongue over her clit. Her hands gripped his head, and she came so fast, his heart ached.

  His zipper strained over his erection. He flipped open the button on his pants, carefully eased the metal the rest of the way down, and his cock bobbed free. He was inside her, his mind full of how hot and wet and soft she was, before he remembered the condom.

  “Lili, I need to get protection,” he said with a groan.

  “I’m clean. I’m on the Pill.”

  “Except you haven’t taken it.”

  “Oh no, I forgot.”

  “Don’t move.” He pulled out of her with a groan.

  Lili felt both excited and guilty. Guilty because she’d engineered this, excited because whatever the reasons for sliding her hands onto his erection, she was glad she had, but she hadn’t forgotten that clipped “thanks” of last night. It had hurt, and the sting lingered like an insect bite she couldn’t help rubbing. She knew what he’d meant, that it was just sex between them and she shouldn’t look to make it anything else, but she’d spent her life accepting, not pressing for what she wanted and this time, she was going to fight. Even if this continued to be just sex, there was always a chance she could make it more, and if that chance faded to nothing, she’d have the memory to cherish.

  Grant returned with a smile on his face and a condom on his cock, and Lili forgot everything except what they were doing.

  “Hold on to me,” he said.

  She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and her legs around his waist. Grant twisted to face the wall and pressed her against it, bending his knees so he could position his cock at the entrance to her body. With one push, he thrust into her, shoving the air from her lungs so she expelled it in a loud gasp.

  “God, Lili,” he muttered. “You undo me.”

  His hands settled on her hips, and he began to drive into her as she clung to him. She locked her ankles at his back and threaded her fingers in his hair. This felt so right, so perfect. She imagined invisible ties binding them. They couldn’t walk away from this. She wouldn’t let him go.

  Grant’s body coiled and tensed, and knowing he was about to come sent Lili soaring with a force that shocked her. As she cried out and her muscles clamped around him, he came, shuddering and jerking into her, his mouth seeking hers as he emptied himself inside her. When their bodies had stopped moving, they kissed themselves down.

  He didn’t let her go for a while, and Lili’s heart beat faster instead of slowing. When their lips slipped apart and he let her legs slide down, she kept her gaze away from him. She was afraid to let him see her face in case she betrayed herself.

  “Breakfast,” he muttered.

  “Food and sex. The way to a guy’s heart.” Oh bother. There goes my mouth again.

  He laughed. “Except I’m the one making breakfast, and I seem to remember I was the one who started this. Though wandering anywhere in my vicinity dressed in just a shirt is asking for trouble.”

  “Shall I—”

  “Stay exactly the way you are. I’m going to get rid of this and then make you breakfast.”

  Lili lifted her hand to fasten the buttons of the shirt and he snagged her fingers. “Just as you are.”

  She laughed. He smiled at her and headed for the bathroom. Strange, how she didn’t mind him telling her what to do. Maybe it was because she trusted him not to hit her.

  She sat on the counter sipping t
he fresh coffee he’d brewed while he cooked bacon and eggs.

  “How do you know when the eggs are done?” she asked. “You didn’t time them.”

  “I’m frying them until they look done. No runny whites, crispy at the edges, the yolk still soft. Want to make some toast?”

  “Er…no thank you.”

  He turned to look at her. “You have made toast before?”

  She squirmed.

  “Did you live in an ivory tower?” he asked with a laugh.

  “Sort of.” A thousand-year-old castle on the Rhine.

  Grant carried the food to the table and then came back to lift her down. She pressed herself up against him and he moaned.

  “I need to eat. You’ve worn me out.” He pulled her over to the table.

  She glanced at the window. “Still snowing. Do you have to go to work?”

  “I work from here. What do you do?”

  “Nothing. I’m an expert in doing nothing,” she said in a glum voice.

  “What would you like to do?”

  She shrugged. “I’m not qualified to do anything.”

  “You shouldn’t let that stop you.”

  “Then…I’ll be a brain surgeon.”

  He laughed. “I think you need some training for that.”

  “I’m not good with blood so I might struggle.”

  He pushed away his empty plate.

  She slowly finished what he’d given her. “That was lovely, thank you.”

  He smiled. “You’re very polite.”

  “My manners are impeccable. I know how to get into and out of cars, how to sit nicely, how to converse with heads of state, company directors, and chambermaids. I’ve been trained to be….”

  “To be what?”

  She carried the plates back into the kitchen and stood at the sink with her back toward him. “I’ve been trained to be useful to other people. No one’s ever cared what I wanted, and I know that sounds whiny, but….”

  Grant wrapped his arms around her, walked her to the couch, and pulled her down so she lay alongside him.

  “Just how rich are your parents?” he asked.

  “Very.”

  “Define very.”

  “Dollar billionaires.”

  She felt him flinch. “Christ.”

  “I had everything a girl could want. Designer clothes and shoes even before I could walk. A hand-carved rocking horse and then a pony, but I turned out to be allergic. Private ballet lessons, private tennis lessons. I started to learn the piano, then the violin, followed by the saxophone, flute, and finally I was given a triangle. I was useless at all of them, even the triangle, because I got bored waiting for my bit and then didn’t come in when I was supposed to. I was pathetic at sport, not very academic, and not popular at school.”

  “I can’t believe you weren’t popular.”

  “The fact that I had very rich parents aggravated the other girls.”

  “But attracted the boys?”

  “I went to an all-girls boarding school from age five to eighteen and then to a finishing school in Switzerland. I wasn’t allowed anywhere near boys. The first guy I went out with was so scared of my father that he sat two seats away in the cinema—though it was our home cinema.”

  Grant winced. “How did you meet the jerk you’re hiding from?”

  “Dieter works for my father. I guess by now you’re thinking I’m pathetically weak to let myself get pushed around all my life, and I am.”

  He stroked her cheek. “How did you end up in that truck?”

  “Because I wouldn’t eat chicken.” She pressed her lips together. She wouldn’t tell him the rest.

  “You’re going to have to say more than that.”

  She sighed. “We’d stopped for something to eat. I wanted a hamburger and fries. Dieter ordered for me. Chicken and steamed vegetables.” She released a shaky breath. “I’m going to cluck if I eat any more chicken. My parents might say otherwise, but all my life I’ve tried to be good. I’ve done as I’ve been told, eaten what was put on my plate, worn clothes I hated. I don’t swear—well, only in my head—I don’t complain—much—I’ve tried so hard to be what others want and all I wanted was a burger. It wasn’t much to ask, and I thought if I can’t even eat what I want, there’s no hope of me ever being happy or making him happy, so I went to the bathroom, came out, and turned right to the exit and not left back into the restaurant.”

  She stared straight into his eyes. “I’m glad I did.”

  “You hitched a lift with a guy who almost raped you, ended up stranded half-naked in the snow, and nearly died.”

  “I’m still glad I turned right.”

  Does he understand what I’m saying?

  When he didn’t speak, she had to fill the gap. “I was already dying,” she whispered. “He was killing me a little more every day I spent with him, sucking away what makes me—me, turning me into what he wanted. At first, he was kind and loving and…practically perfect. He treated me like a…. Then he changed. When I was too slow, or argued, or did something he didn’t like, even something as simple as wearing the wrong clothes, he hurt me. Mostly not with his hands, more often with words. Telling me I was useless, stupid, bad, too thin, too fat, too quiet, too noisy, until I was worn down. I could feel myself disappearing. I knew I’d never get it right, and the crazy thing is, I don’t think he wanted me to. He likes being in control.”

  “Why didn’t you leave him? Why wait until you were in a foreign country?”

  Because he pushed too hard, and I was scared he’d trap me forever. “I wasn’t thinking. I hadn’t planned it and I should have. Dieter’s right. I am stupid.”

  “Hey.” He grabbed her hand. “Don’t. Desperation overrules stupidity. Sometimes you don’t have many options.”

  She gave a short laugh. “That might be true if I hadn’t had a choice, but I leapt right out of the frying pan into the fire. I could easily have died. I should have planned what I needed to do. I know it’s different because you’re a guy, but you wouldn’t have acted without thinking.”

  “I don’t know. If I was anxious to get away from someone, I might have hitched a lift, found myself with a different sort of psychopath, and chosen to chance it in the snow rather than let him cut off my head with a blunt knife.”

  “Hmm. That why you’re in a cabin in the middle of nowhere? Hiding out from a psychopath?” She snuggled closer.

  “I’m hiding from me.”

  She tipped her head back to look at him.

  “From memories,” he said in a quiet voice. “From mistakes I made, from my past.”

  “And have they found you?”

  “They never go away but they’re easier to deal with here.”

  “What happened?” she whispered.

  It was so long before he spoke, she began to wonder if he would.

  “Once upon a time, I had a wife and child.”

  Oh God. She stayed motionless.

  “Our daughter died of meningitis when she was four months old. We didn’t recognize the symptoms until it was too late. Serena, my wife, was African American. Our baby took after her and was dark skinned. We didn’t see the rash. By the time we realized how sick she was, the doctors couldn’t save her.”

  Lili chewed her lip. Grant had closed his eyes as he spoke. There was nothing she could say to help.

  “Serena slipped into a deep depression. I couldn’t drag her out of the black hole she’d fallen into. I thought blue skies, warm weather, and views of the sea might help. We moved from Evans Point to San Diego. I encouraged her to take up pottery, to learn to play a musical instrument, and finally to try scuba diving. It was the first thing she seemed to take to. A group of us used to meet, and that day we’d gone to La Jolla. Serena wasn’t buddying with me. She said she wanted to get experience with other divers. I still went through the safety checks with her, and she repeated them with her partner. I watched her do it. You don’t take risks. You have to be prepared for all sorts of crap: faulty
valves, interrupted air supply….”

  He took a deep breath. “Mike, the guy she was with, had a problem, and came up fast. Serena came with him. He survived. Serena died.” His eyes opened.

  Oh God. Lili wrapped her hand around his. “You think it’s your fault.”

  It wasn’t a question. She knew he did.

  Grant gave a short laugh. “I’m the only one who thinks so, but yeah. If I’d seen how sick our baby was, if I’d been Serena’s buddy that day, if I’d reminded her about the dangers in coming up too fast, about air bubbles in her bloodstream, if—”

  “No,” Lili said and put her finger on his lips. “No more ifs. How’s that helping?” She dropped her hand from his mouth. “You can’t rewind time. You have to accept what went before and move on. Don’t live for yesterday, live for tomorrow.”

  “I’m trying.”

  “Is that why you’ve come back to Evans Point? To be near your parents? And the prepping? You want to be ready for everything that’s thrown at you?”

  His jaw tightened. “There’s nothing wrong with making sure you can deal with whatever crap life dishes up.”

  “But you can’t.”

  “Yes, I fucking can.”

  “You can’t prepare for everything. You have what you need here, but you might walk out the door and get struck by a falling tree. You can’t know the future. And you’re hiding, not living. Life’s not about burrowing into your hole, dragging all your possessions in with you, and building a wall to keep the world out. Nor about wearing so much body armor no one sees the real you. Life’s an adventure and you have to live it. Yes, you need to be prepared for things that might happen, but not to the extent that you don’t ever do anything.”

  His jaw tightened and he sat up. “What makes you the fucking expert? You don’t know me.”

  “You’re unhappy. I know what that’s like.”

  He sprang to his feet. “I was fine until I carried you over the threshold. I live up here on my own for a reason.”