by Jane Porter
“How did it go with Phillipe?”
“Not well.” He hesitated. “Damian was there.”
One of her winged eyebrows arched higher. “You didn’t expect to see him, did you?”
“No. And it was an awkward meal. I left early.”
“And your cousin? How was he?”
“Baffling,” Alexander said after a long moment. “I don’t understand it. I don’t understand him.” And then he shrugged impatiently. “Let’s not discuss him anymore. He ruined my night. I won’t allow him to ruin today, and I’m organizing something fun for us for dinner tonight. It will be just the two of us. We’ll leave here at six. Our reservation is for seven.”
Josephine studied him a long moment, trying to read his expression because he wasn’t smiling and yet there was this curious light in his eyes. He looked tired but also eager, and she suddenly pictured him as a boy and thought how lovely he must have been. He wouldn’t have been one of those who hurt things and broke things. No, he would have been smart and thoughtful and kind. “I’m looking forward to it,” she said, and she meant it.
“Good.”
“How should I dress? Do I need one of my formal dresses that require the spandex girdle beneath?”
“That sounds horrendous.”
“It feels horrendous.”
“Then no, please don’t wear one. Be comfortable. Choose a dress that makes you happy.”
Josephine went through her wardrobe and in the end chose a ruby-red silk dress that was sleeveless, fitted through the waist, and featured a stunning bright pink flower on the full skirt. The neckline plunged, showing off her tan and her curves, making her feel gorgeous and feminine.
After saying good-night to her staff, she hurried downstairs, where Alexander was waiting by the front door for her. He smiled as she came down the steps. “You look stunning.”
Pleasure filled her. She felt stunning tonight. “And you’re very dashing in your...um...trousers and...shirt.”
He laughed, the sound low and husky and unbearably sexy as the butler opened the front door for them. “I’m rather boring—is that it?”
“Actually, no. You’re anything but boring,” she said as they stepped outside. Her attention was immediately drawn to the hunter green convertible sports car parked in the drive. It was low and sleek with a handsome cream interior. It was also a two-seater, which meant no room for a driver. “Is that for us?”
“It is. Do you approve?”
“Very much so. But where will your security go?”
“Security will be behind us, but they’re to be discreet and give us some room.”
“I love it, but I think I might need a shawl for the way home. Let me run back up. I won’t be long.”
“I can have someone fetch you something—”
“No need. I won’t be but a moment.” Josephine went back inside and up the marble staircase.
She’d just opened the door to the suite when she heard one of her ladies say, “They said Damian found them together on the yacht, in her room, in her bed. He confronted them and things turned ugly. It’s why Damian has been forbidden from coming here.”
Josephine froze, unable to make herself move.
“Not surprised about the love triangle. There has always been some friction between those two,” someone said.
“It doesn’t help that the king has always favored Damian over his own son.”
“And Claudia? Where is Claudia now?”
“Paris, I believe.”
Josephine felt sick. Her legs shook. She put a hand to the wall, trying to steady herself. Was it true, what her ladies-in-waiting were saying? Had Alexander gone to Paris not to see Phillipe but to see Claudia?
Was it possible that Alexander wasn’t who she thought he was?
Closing her eyes, she pictured him downstairs waiting for her next to the sleek sports car, handsome, smiling.
She pictured him as he was when he came to her in the tower...
She remembered how he’d pulled her aside to talk to her in the picture gallery...
Had he been lying to her all those times? Had he been twisting the truth, pretending to be someone he wasn’t?
She didn’t think so. Maybe she was crazy, but she trusted him. She did.
Josephine drew a breath and pushed the door all the way open, silencing the conversation as she stepped into her sitting room. She ignored the startled glances—as well as the fact that the ladies were sitting in her sitting room—and continued on to her bedroom.
Adina jumped up. “Did you forget something?” she asked, following Josephine into the bedroom.
Josephine counted to ten as she went through her wraps and then selected a charcoal-gray pashmina and draped it over her arm. “I have it now,” she said, turning around and heading back out. She didn’t pause until she reached the door to the corridor, and then she glanced back at the three women. “If you’re going to gossip, please do not do it in my rooms. Good night.”
For the first twenty minutes of the drive, Josephine was quiet, replaying the conversation she’d heard in her room, wondering if she should tell him. She didn’t want to spoil the night, and it would certainly spoil the night. She chewed on the inside of her lip, wishing she hadn’t gone back to her room, thinking she would be so much happier right now if she’d never heard any of that.
Alexander shifted and glanced at her. “Is my driving making you nervous?”
“No. Just thinking about something I heard earlier. It was disturbing.”
“Want to tell me?”
“No.” She swallowed around the lump in her throat. “I’m just upset on your behalf.”
He shifted again and braked, pulling off on the side of the road. Alexander faced her. “Tell me, cara. We’re in this together. Let’s do this together.”
“People are talking,” she said quietly after a moment. “Staff. They’re saying you...” She closed her eyes, shook her head. “I can’t say it. I can’t. And I don’t believe it, so it doesn’t matter.”
“But it does matter because clearly it’s upset you.”
She opened her eyes. “They’re saying on the yacht, Damian found you...in bed...with Claudia.”
“What?”
“And that’s why Damian is angry.”
“No.”
“And Claudia is in... Paris.” She looked at him. “Tell me it’s just a coincidence. Tell me you didn’t go to Paris to see her—”
“Absolutely not. I didn’t even know she was in Paris. Furthermore, we weren’t in bed together. I can promise you that. And yes, I know I have memory issues, but there has been nothing between Claudia and me since I ended the relationship, and I haven’t wanted to be with her. I might not remember the trip, but I know me, and I wouldn’t start something with her again, not when she’s involved with my cousin. I hate even discussing Claudia with you, but you must believe me—”
“I do.” She reached out, her fingers light on his cheekbone and then his jaw. “I do. I’m just disgusted by the gossip. I’m disgusted that people in the palace would speak that way about you.”
“Damian grew up in the palace. His father, Aldo, was my father’s twin. I think Damian has always struggled with the fact that my father was born two minutes before his father, making my father the future king and me the heir instead of the other way around.”
“Damian resents you.”
“I think Damian is envious, yes.”
“That explains a great deal,” she murmured, leaning forward to kiss him. “But let’s not let Damian and his green-eyed jealousy ruin our evening, because I’m so happy being out with you. Let’s just savor our night.”
“I couldn’t agree more.”
Now outside the city, they turned off the main highway onto a narrower rural road, and for the next half hour they threaded thei
r way through the countryside filled with farms and little stone houses with charming shutters and window boxes.
Josephine thought it looked like a blend of Provence and Tuscany. “It’s so picturesque,” she said as they slowed for a shepherd and his flock of sheep, the fluffy creatures slowly crossing the road just ahead of them and then deciding they no longer wanted to cross the road but instead mill about, taking over the road.
“We might be a while,” Alexander said, shifting into Neutral.
“I’m enjoying myself immensely,” she replied, delighted by the herd’s inability to decide if they’d all cross together or one at a time. She entertained Alexander with a sheep-by-sheep accounting, describing the wayward members of the flock, giving them all personalities, including the shepherd, whose quiet resignation coupled with his inability to direct his flock only served to make the sheep more ambivalent about crossing the road in the first place.
“He is not a very good shepherd,” Alexander muttered, as five minutes turned to ten.
“Not terribly passionate about his work,” she agreed, “but he’s giving me the best show.”
“He’s also going to make us late for dinner.”
She glanced at him. “Is that going to be a problem?”
“No. It’s Sunday, and Julio is opening the restaurant specially for us.”
“I’ve never had anyone open anything for me.”
“Well, you will now. In just five days you’ll be Princess Josephine Alberici.”
The sun was just setting by the time they pulled in front of the restaurant, with its exterior of local wood and stone. The restaurant owner, Julio, warmly welcomed them before escorting them inside to a table in an alcove with windows all around. The view from the restaurant, which happened to be perched on the edge of a cliff, was nothing short of glorious.
“We’re up so high,” Josephine said.
“It’s Mount Bravura, the highest peak in Aargau and Aargau’s only volcano, although extinct now.”
“No wonder I like it so much!”
They drifted into easy conversation, interrupted only by the waiter when he took their order and then returned later with their first course. Time passed quickly, and Josephine was surprised when she sat back and glanced out the window and found it was pitch-dark and that the restaurant itself was empty save them and the owner. “It must be late,” she said. “All the staff has gone.”
“Even Julio?”
“No, he’s still here. He’s setting the tables for tomorrow.”
“I’m sure he’d have no problem kicking me out when he’s ready to go home.”
She frowned, skeptical. “Even though you are Prince Alexander Alberici?”
He laughed lowly. “Okay, Julio would probably never kick me out, but he’s thrilled we’re here. Tomorrow he’ll share the news with everyone and he’ll get a great deal of press out of this. His bookings will double, triple overnight.”
“Well, that does make me feel a little better, but I still wouldn’t mind stepping out for fresh air.”
“Because you’re tired or because you want Julio to be able to close his restaurant and go home for the night?”
“You know me so well,” she murmured, thinking Alexander had the loveliest blue eyes and his smile created these grooves on either side of his lips. Lightly she brushed a fingertip across his mouth, wanting more than a light kiss. She missed the heat between them. She missed the tension and electric sensation.
He rose and held her chair for her. They left the restaurant for the patio with its breathtaking view. It was only up here, so high, that Josephine got a sense of the island and its size. Lights twinkled far away—the capital of Roche, Josephine thought—with other lights dotting the coast. Waves crested with white reflected the moonlight.
“This was just what I needed,” she said with a sigh. “It almost feels like we’re on Khronos. It’s just you and me.”
“You miss Khronos.”
“I think I always will. I had so much freedom, and I miss the water everywhere.” She darted a look up at him. “And I miss having it be just you and me.”
He leaned against the railing and drew her to him, his hands low on her back. “You have no idea how much I’ve missed you. I want to feel you and love you. It’s been too long.”
Love her, Josephine repeated silently, even as her heart did a painful double beat. She knew he didn’t mean love, real love, but still, it was heady hearing the words and knowing he desired her—and at least desire was something. Maybe desire could be enough. Maybe she could be satisfied with being wanted. Maybe she didn’t need to be loved. Or maybe her love for him would be enough for both of them.
She stared deep into his eyes, flooded with so many intense emotions, emotions that were stronger than she’d ever felt before, and then, sure of her feelings, she leaned closer, leaning into him, and pressed her lips to his. “It has been too long,” she whispered against his mouth. “I need you to love me.”
He kissed her back, his hand cupping the back of her head, drawing her against him so that her breasts pressed against his hard chest and her mouth was his for the taking.
The kiss was fierce and hot, his tongue parting her lips, sweeping her mouth before tangling with her tongue, teasing it, teasing her.
She felt as if the kiss was just the beginning of something huge and wonderful and she mimicked the way he kissed her, sucking on the tip of his tongue, drawing on it hard. He groaned against her mouth, his hands sliding down her back to grip her hips and grind her against his hard length.
Her arms wrapped around his neck, her fingers twining in the dark strands of hair at his nape. She tugged at them even as he shifted her hips, drawing her over him again, making her feel his heat and hunger. Sensation flooded her. Emotion flooded her. She’d desired him on Khronos, but it was so much more intense now, her feelings making the need and sensation so much more powerful.
His tongue played her mouth in a rhythmic stabbing that mimicked how the thick head of his shaft pressed up between her thighs. He’d found her breast with one hand and was kneading the peaked nipple, making her whimper and shudder, and if it weren’t for the fact that security was just around the corner and Julio was somewhere inside the restaurant, she would have begged him to take her here and now, as the delicate silk of her dress gave her little protection. But then, she wanted no protection. She wanted him, all of him, forever.
He lifted his head. “I’d have my way with you right here if I didn’t think it’d make Julio feel awkward.”
She laughed and blushed. “I was just thinking the same thing. Can we go back home and be together?”
“Absolutely.”
They returned to the palace and he led her to his room. They made love twice, and she spent the rest of the night barely sleeping because she didn’t want to forget how good she felt in his arms, in his bed.
CHAPTER NINE
TUESDAY, WITH ITS cocktail party of important people and influential guests, had finally arrived, and Josephine’s team spent hours preparing her, giving her a complete makeover. The hairdresser, makeup artist, and stylist fussed over her for nearly two hours but now she was dressed and waiting for Alexander to collect her.
Josephine did a little twirl before her mirror, absolutely thrilled with her dress. The sleeveless gown featured a dramatic V neckline, with a soft cloud of a skirt shimmering with gorgeous gold embroidery. The skirt floated around her legs as she walked and she was wearing glittering chandelier earrings from the Alberici vault. With her hair pinned up, she definitely looked older and more sophisticated.
Alexander arrived exactly on time to escort her to the ballroom, and when he entered her room she expected him to smile and compliment her because it’s what he usually did, but tonight he kept his distance and stared at her, jaw flexed, gaze shuttered. Her ladies-in-waiting noticed, too, and they fell sile
nt. The silence grew, making Josephine uncomfortable.
“Something’s wrong,” Josephine said quietly. “Is it the dress? Would you like me to change?”
“The dress is beautiful.”
“Then what is it?”
“I’m having a difficult time understanding why you look so different. I don’t understand what has been done to you. You don’t look like you.”
She remembered the hours of tortured hairstyling and makeup application and lifted a hand self-consciously to her nape, which was exposed tonight, with all her hair coiled and pinned tightly on top. “It might be this style,” she said. “It’s structured.”
“Too structured. It doesn’t suit you. You are too pretty to look like an old lady.” He approached her and reached out to tip up her chin, examining her makeup. “You’re wearing quite a lot, aren’t you?”
“The eyeliner is rather heavy, and the lipstick is dark,” she said faintly.
“Why didn’t you stop them?”
“I was told they’d been instructed to polish me, remove the hard edges.”
“There were no hard edges. You’re lovely as you are.”
His words made her eyes sting and it was all she could do to keep tears from welling up. She glanced at the women in the corner who were hanging on every word and she gave them a faint smile before looking up at Alexander. “Please don’t be disappointed. They’ve been working very hard to prepare me for tonight—”
“You are not a rock,” he gritted out, interrupting her. “You do not require polishing or refinement, and if this is what they’re telling you, then I will throw them all out, every last one of them, because I like you, and I want you to look like you. I want your mouth to look like your mouth. I want to be able to kiss your lips—” And then suddenly his head dropped and his mouth slanted over hers, and he was kissing her with hunger and passion, as if they were alone.
By the time he lifted his head, ending the kiss, her head was spinning and her senses swam with the erotic pleasure of his kiss. She loved his mouth on hers. She loved the feel of him and the smell of him and the way he made her feel every single time he touched her.
