Black Keys (The Colorblind Trilogy #1)

by Rose B Mashal

  He leaned his head back and closed his eyes, enjoying my touch as I worked my fingers on his neck, rubbing all of the tight muscles and tense spots, enjoying the contact and his relaxed breathing as he reclined even more in his seat.

  “You really know what you’re doing,” he said softly, and I smiled widely.

  “Mhmm,” I replied, touching his jawline with my thumbs, starting from behind his ears and going all the way forward until they touched at his chin. I repeated it, when I noticed from the way he breathed and hummed softly, that he was enjoying it the most.

  I made the mistake of letting my gaze be averted from focusing on the spots my fingers were massaging to his beautiful features. My God! He was utterly attractive and simply breathtaking, and I wondered how I’d spent so many days doing anything other than staring at his face.

  I didn’t notice that I’d stopped my hands’ movement on his neck until I found his green eyes opening and staring at my blue ones.

  He didn’t say a word, but his eyes spoke tomes. I was sure he was able to hear what mine were saying very well.

  I wanted to kiss him. I wanted to stop myself.

  I wanted to press my lips to his. I wanted to move away.

  I wanted to let him know about my new feelings. I wanted to never speak.

  I wanted to get lost in his eyes. I wanted to be safe.

  But then I realized, safety was in his closeness.

  I bent my head down slightly, my hands still on his neck. My eyes were watching his and his were watching mine upside down. My hair made a curtain around our faces, and passion made a halo of mixed feelings and blank thoughts around us. With no more hesitation, I decided to go with what my heart was begging me to do. I touched my lips to his warm, welcoming ones.

  I kissed him.

  Hard.

  Tight.

  And sure.

  The kiss was upside down.

  My feelings were upside down.

  My thoughts were upside down.

  My whole world was no better: it had turned upside down as well.

  One wave after another of bright feelings and soft emotions ran through my body as we kissed. My mind was warming and my heart was heating up; something was changing, lots of things. I found that I wasn’t that scared anymore, I wasn’t that unsure anymore. Yes, I was still a bit confused, and I was still very unsettled about my feelings towards him, but...it felt good. Like, a wonderfully amazing kind of good.

  And I wanted more. I wanted it to never end.

  The prince’s hands covered my own over his neck, just the slightest movement of his thumbs over them encouraged me to deepen our kiss. It grew even hotter, more needing, more searing. It was perfect. Just like any other kiss we’d shared, but this one...this one had a different meaning–to me at least. I knew that my statement this morning about the kiss I’d given him before I left and how real it was made him aware of the fact that I’d started to have feelings for him, but...kissing him this way would tell him more. I knew it would.

  A part of me was hoping it would tell him that, this time, I was truly okay with going along with our plan, and I would stay here those six months without us having to talk about it, because lots of things inside of me were unsure and confused. I feared that if we started talking about it, I’d say I wanted to go, because it was the thing my mind wanted the most.

  My head started to spin, and I got dizzy just being lost in the sea that was kissing the prince, tasting him and feeling his passion, so I pulled away, panting, my vision hazy and my legs more like jelly than flesh and bones.

  His eyes opened again and they caught mine. I watched as his tongue darted out to lick his lips, then he sucked his bottom lip into his mouth for a second as if he was gathering all of my taste from his lips.

  My knees almost gave out at the sight and the thought.

  Moments of silence passed and our eyes remained locked on each other’s, my hand still touching him, and his hand still covering mine, until finally...he spoke. “What is it you’re doing to me, Beautiful Princess?” hushed whispers were his quite voice, tender gentleness was his soft tone.

  I didn’t reply; I only stared even deeper into his eyes for a few more moments before I straightened up and walked around to stand in front of him. I moved his hands off his lap to rest them on the arms of his seat, my eyes never leaving his wondering ones. And then, I placed myself where his hands had been: I sat on his lap, and even made myself comfortable.

  I wasn’t very surprised when he didn’t react right away. He was shocked by my actions, but he recovered quickly, and I felt his arms surrounding my body, holding me to him, pretty much hugging me. I rested my head on his chest, closed my eyes tightly shut, drowning in an ocean of kindness, safety and security.

  I then looked up at his eyes and finally told him what I wanted him to know, what I truly felt. “Your closeness comforts me,” I admitted.

  His smile was soft, kind, and despite his heartbeats that I could hear racing under my ear, he whispered, “And yours does the same to me,” causing even more calmness to wash over me.

  I nestled my head even more into his chest, my arm wrapped around his neck, my nose inhaling his scent, all sandalwood and wonderfulness and him. My eyes closed as I enjoyed all of the good feelings his closeness offered.

  We stayed like that for a while, his hand playing with my hair softly. Every now and then his lips would touch my forehead gently to place a warm kiss that caused my heart to flutter and my stomach to do a little flip.

  It still amazed me how he could be so forgiving towards me. I had hurt him a lot and caused him troubles, with both my words and actions, yet... he was always so understanding and accepting, even when I didn’t apologize or explain. He was something else.

  “Do you–” I tried to ask, but I dreaded the answer, so I stopped.

  “Do I what, Princess?” he asked in a quiet voice, his hand that was playing with my hair now moving to rub along my arm tenderly.

  “Do you regret teaching me about the secret tunnels?” I asked.

  “Not for a second, never,” was his instant reply. “Why would you think I would?”

  “I lied to you, for example?”

  The prince sighed. “Listen, Princess, your safety is too important to me. I’d do anything in my power to keep you safe and sound. I’d even go beyond that if I could as long as you are protected, and if–God forbid–something happened here and you weren’t able to escape just because you didn’t know how, I’d never forgive myself,” he said sincerely, and I smiled a small smile.

  “Why was my life in danger then?” I asked. “I thought that it was because you’d taught me about those escape routes. Or is it that I’m not allowed to leave the palace without permission? Was that breaking the law or a rule?”

  “No, Princess, it’s not like that,” he started. “Just think about it, you’ve only been here a few days, you’re a bride, you just came into our lives, living in the palace, and then you escaped that way. Of course the first thought that would come to my parents’, or anyone’s, minds is that you were an intruder who’d learned something important and then fled to use it for whatever reason. Anyone would think of you as a spy or something of that sort. That is why your life was in danger.”

  “Oh, my God!” I gushed. “I never thought of it that way.”

  “It’s okay. It turned out okay, thank God!”

  “But...how could you not regret it?” I wondered. “I did know about things that were really important and then tried to escape. Only you know that truth. How could you not think that I was truly a spy, and even cover up for me?” It was beyond my understanding how he could not.

  “I know you are not, Princess,” he said. “Do you think we’d allow Yoseph into the family without looking very deeply into his background–and his parents’ even?” Oh! “Beyond that, I actually told you enough to keep you safe, but only that. You don’t know of the paths to my father’s wing, you don’t know how to enter the palace from the o
utside. The system is very complicated, you can only get in with the code you got out with, and if you weren’t in this wing and used its doors, then you can’t get in from outside. The codes always change as well, depending on the number of doors you used to go out and which ones.”

  Holy Mother of Christ!

  “That’s…” I couldn’t find the word.

  “Complicated,” he smiled.

  “Understandable,” I said, my mind in a fog just trying to process everything he’d said. And...I failed miserably.

  A quiet silence and calm tranquility fell upon us. Time passed while I stayed in his arms, liking his touch, loving his tender kisses on my forehead and adoring the sound of his heartbeat under my ear. I kept my eyes closed and I almost fell asleep, but the prince said he had to get up to pray. I almost asked him not to, but I knew I couldn’t say that; so I got up, and then he did as well. Before leaving the living room, he placed yet another kiss on my forehead, renewing the argument I had inside me to ask him to stay. But still, I fought it and let him go without saying anything, knowing he’d be back in a few minutes anyway.

  We talked a lot that night. As a matter of fact, we barely stopped talking at all. I learned a lot about him, and he learned a lot about me.

  He still had two years of specializing to do, but wasn’t so sure if he could do it. He told me he’d had to go through a lot to convince his mother to agree to let him leave the country to study abroad. She disliked the idea of him being so far from the kingdom and leaving most of his responsibilities towards his country for his brother to do. She disliked the fact that he was studying something that wouldn’t serve in his position as the future king anyhow, but he said that helping people was something he had always wanted to do–not just ruling and guiding, even if that was what he had been raised to do all of his life.

  I told him that he should consider psychiatry: he always knew the right thing to say, always knew how to comfort and solve problems. It was just the right thing for him, in my opinion. Heck, he was able to spread calmness over my heart faster and even better than what my therapist had for all those years. It made him beam, then he spaced out, as if he was really considering it, or at least thinking of the possibilities, because it seemed like his duty towards his kingdom was preventing him from doing anything further than that, just like he’d told me.

  I told him about the company, about my parents, about my life in New York. It was kind of embarrassing how very boring my life was; it was only work and more work. And before I had to take care of the company, it was studying and more studying. I had no time for friends, and my family was only my grandmother and my parents, but after the loss of my parents...I didn’t even have a grandmother anymore. Well, not that much.

  Still, the prince seemed really fascinated by everything I was saying. He hung on my every word, told me how impressed he was by my accomplishments and all I’d done for the past year. He liked that we were still able to complete the project of having a branch in the kingdom that my parents had started, and that we still kept the branches in London and Paris working as well as before and even better, making me feeling less pathetic about my non-existent social life.

  He was that nice, and like always, he knew the right thing to say.

  Our talk was easy, sweet, and I liked it a lot. But it also made me feel sorry for the past several days I’d spent feeling too much fear to actually enjoy them. But...I don’t think I could’ve ever helped it. Everything was new to me. I was forced to marry a stranger and my brother put a gun to my head…it was difficult. It was still difficult, but easier. A lot easier. I was actually enjoying myself.

  Later, when Mona brought us food, it looked amazing and delicious as always, but…

  “I miss pancakes,” I said. We were just about to eat, neither of us had started eating yet.

  “Oh!” the prince said, “I don’t know if my mother knows how to make them or not, but I could have Mona ask her to make you some. She’ll figure it out.”

  “No, no, it’s okay,” I smiled, but then thought for a moment. “Uh, can I make some?”

  “Pancakes?”

  I nodded.

  “Yourself?”

  I nodded again, smiling widely.

  “Now?”

  I had to chuckle. “Yeah, I really want some.”

  “Isn’t it an American breakfast?”

  “Um…it’s morning in America,” I grinned.

  The prince chuckled and it was music to my ears, shaking his head. “I don’t know, Princess.”

  “Is it breaking a rule? Because I assure you, I’ve been ‘spoiled rotten’ enough since I got here,” I tried.

  “I don’t mind at all, Princess, but you have to convince Mona. She won’t be happy with you getting your hands dirty during your first week of marriage, no matter what,” the prince grinned.

  “I know how to be convincing,” I said with a smug look on my face, making the prince chuckle again, and then we went to the kitchen–me, readying myself for a big argument with Mona.

  “It is not appropriate, Princess,” Mona said with wide eyes and shock as if I just told her I’d be torturing puppies, not making pancakes.

  “Oh, please! It’ll only take ten minutes,” I said.

  “You tell me how to do it, Princess, and I’ll do it with pleasure,” Mona offered.

  “Five minutes,” I tried, desperate.

  “I promise I’ll try my best, Princess, just tell me how.” Mona was just as desperate.

  I looked over at the prince who was leaning his shoulder against the door frame, hands in his pockets, watching us as he tried to stifle his laughter. “Aren’t you gonna help me out here?”

  He raised his hands in front of him in surrender. “It’s your war, Stubborn Princess.”

  I narrowed my eyes at him playfully, and he chuckled, and then I had to beg Mona some more. I almost thought of bribing her with more hair brushing or something, but thought that would be very silly of me.

  Eventually, Mona gave up and let me do it, but all the while she kept asking if she could do this or that herself. I let her help a little only to put her mind at some kind of ease, and she was really happy about it. Rolling up my sleeves for me neatly seemed like some kind of pleasure to her; it was sort of funny, she was just too nice.

  To my surprise, the prince wanted to help, as well. Mona didn’t object at all, which I told her was so lame of her. She just smiled and then even laughed at how clumsy he was. He had the cutest smudge of flour on his nose, and both Mona and I snickered at the sight of him.

  “What?” he asked, completely unaware of the reason why we were grinning so much.

  “You have flour on your nose,” I giggled.

  He quickly rubbed it off, but only managed to put more flour all over his nose and cheeks. It was seriously the most adorable thing I’d ever seen; he was a know-nothing, whether it came to cooking or rubbing off flour.

  “All gone?” he asked.

  “Perfect,” I gave him a thumb up, and Mona turned her back on him so she could hide her laughter.

  “It’s all over my face, huh?”

  I nodded, bursting out laughing at his reaction, and completely loving how easy spending a day in the kingdom had become, wishing I’d learned I could smile and laugh earlier than that. It would’ve saved me so much heartache.

  Mona was really touched when I made her a plate. It made me smile to see how little things meant so much to her, and I kept it in mind to do more nice things for her later. She was such a sweet person.

  What I enjoyed the most were the prince’s pleased humming as he ate the pancakes I’d made. I smiled with pride as he kept going on and on about how delicious they tasted, telling me that the ones he’d eaten in the UK weren’t at all the same, stroking my ego just the right way. I loved it.

  We were sitting on the couch in our bedroom. I fed him a tiny slice of strawberry and smiled when he fed me a piece of his pancakes with his fork, trying to convince me it was the best in th
e whole world, as if it wasn’t the same thing I had on my plate.

  It was all so good and sweet, until I saw a drop of syrup on his chin. Then it turned even better.

  “You have syrup there,” I told him, pointing to my chin, the same place he had the syrup but, just like with the flour, he completely missed it.

  I had to do it myself. With my lips. Because the idea sounded so good in my head. I just had no idea that the prince’s reaction to that would be catching my lips and locking them with his in a heated kiss that almost made me faint.

  His lips were hot against mine, soft and tender, yet firm and demanding. It was sweet like any other kiss we’d shared, but this time there was something different. This time it was like he was hungry, thirsty, but not for food or a drink. For me. He wanted me, and that thought drove me insane, because I wanted him, too. So much, indeed.

  His hand wrapped around my throat, his fingertips at the back of my neck and his thumb just under my chin, his fingers warm and his lips warmer, his touch gentle and his tongue gentler, his breath hot and his kisses even hotter. I was melting.

  My hands found his hair and he groaned into my mouth for the first time when I pulled slightly at the hair on the back of his head. The second time he groaned was when I straddled his legs and sat on his lap, this time facing him, my body flush to his, and our lips embracing each other like long lost lovers.

  I felt the heat spreading all over my body, starting from my cheeks and down to my core. I was vibrating from the inside out with need, desire and…and…something. Something was bursting inside of me like a wildfire, demanding my attention, telling me of new feelings I’d never felt before; uncontrollable emotions and sentiments that I was too distracted by our kiss to even care to think about.

  His hands were all over my back, pulling, squeezing, stroking, driving me mad with undeniable lust. I wanted him to touch me more, and everywhere.

  His lips pulled away from mine, both of us panting and flushed. But, just as I was about to start missing the feel of those lips, he started kissing my neck and then down to my collarbone, his breath fanning over my neck, and over the wet spots his tongue left as he tasted my skin. It felt so good that all I could do was to throw my head back to give him better access, moan breathlessly and tug more at his hair, at the same time holding his head in the place where I liked to feel his tongue the most, behind my ear.