by Mia Carson
Quincy let her take the bottle and his glass, his brow furrowed. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to do that.”
“It’s fine. I understand,” she said. “You don’t have much of a choice now, do you?”
“What do you mean?”
Tears stung her eyes. She didn’t let him see as she stiffened her shoulders and said, “You have to find a wife, and I’m assuming your dad is pushing you towards Gigi. It’s a smart choice and she’s very beautiful, so you might as well just get it over with.”
Silence fell in the room, lingering for so long she honestly thought he’d snuck out the balcony doors so she could be miserable in peace. Her shoulders sagged in relief, but two hands closed around her arms and turned her around. Quincy’s eyes searched her face, frowning as he leaned down so they were level.
“What are you talking about?”
“You have to let me go so you can marry,” she whispered. “It’s obvious. We can’t have this, Quincy. We can’t.”
“Why not? Who says we can’t be together?”
“We’re going to be siblings!”
“Step-siblings, no blood relation whatsoever,” he reminded her, and she could hear the desperation in his words. “I am not going to lose you. Not like this.”
“It will be a scandal, and your dad will kill you.”
“Then I’ll die happy.” He pulled her close for a kiss.
Olivia melted against him, pressing her body against his, needing to feel that connection, but this couldn’t happen. She pulled back, shaking her head. “You know this won’t work.”
He bit his lip and nodded once. “For now, though, we have time, and I will find a way for us to be together, Olivia. There has to be a way.”
“Are you sure you want to do this? We’ve been lucky so far, but eventually, someone’s going to notice,” she said. This particular concern had been eating at her for the last couple weeks. Allete eyed her strangely some mornings, and Olivia knew she smelled like Quincy. Pascal was sure to notice things were different with the prince, too. They were playing a very dangerous game, and she did not want to think about what would happen if they were caught.
“I’ve never been surer of anything in my life.”
There was something more he wanted to say, she saw it flash in his eyes, but the words never came. Instead, he ran his fingers through her hair, undoing the pins as he went, and let it fall down her back. She sighed at the relief of having it loosened, closing her eyes as his hands shook out her hair and moved to her neck. He kissed her, slow and deep, letting his tongue play against hers as his hand wrapped around her waist.
But her dress got in the way, and he grunted. “Turn around.”
Olivia did as he asked, laughing as his hands went to work quickly on the ties at the back. He nuzzled her neck, kissing her bare shoulders as each tie came loose and she could breathe more easily. The dress finally came free, and she slipped out of it. As the heavy dress fell away, Quincy sucked in a harsh breath and she glanced down at herself.
“Oh, I forgot what I wore under this,” she said with a laugh.
“You are seriously going to kill me,” Quincy whispered. “One of these days, it’s going to happen.”
Olivia put her hands on her hips and sauntered to him. She wore red lace panties and a corset top that had given her the cleavage she needed to pull off the dress. The top was satin, but the rest was sheer, and from the look in Quincy’s eyes, red was his new favorite color.
“You’re wearing too many clothes,” she whispered against his ear and nibbled it. “Take them off.”
“There’s that demanding tone again,” he said but unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it off. Once his chest was bare, Olivia ran her fingers over his muscles while he removed his pants. His fingers fumbled as she licked from one nipple to the other, swirling her tongue around the sensitive flesh and enjoying the way his muscles tensed beneath her touch. The second he was naked, he scooped her up into his arms and carried her to the bed.
She always forgot how strong he was until he held her like that, close to his chest, bending low so he could kiss her as he walked. He laid her across the bed, and his hands rubbed down her body, massaging her breasts first, then her sides, and finally her hips. His tongue licked the edge of her panties on her hip bone, nipping it and making her gasp. The want she felt for him made her heart pound, and her mind forget about anything else happening around them. All that mattered was this moment with Quincy, his touch on her skin and her need for more. He pulled her panties down, and she felt his warm breath against her.
As his fingers tickled her inner thigh, she squirmed, knowing the edge was close and all she wanted was to tumble over it with him. An image of him and Gigi doing this flashed through her mind, and she thought about pulling away until his tongue licked her clit. The shock of the touch on her nerves pushed any vision of Gigi away, and she fell back against the bed. She moaned when his tongue thrust inside her and his hands squeezed her thighs. Before, she would’ve been embarrassed to have him where he was, but now, she couldn’t find the words to argue, let alone get them out.
“Quincy.” She moaned his name as the intensity built and his fingers replaced his tongue.
“Yes, love?”
“I can feel that smirk on your face,” she whispered harshly without looking up.
“I’m just enjoying the look on your face,” he said and turned his fingers so they found her g-spot. “Especially right… about… now.”
His fingers rubbed her g-spot at the same time he sucked hard on her clit. Olivia bit her lip to keep her cries from being so loud but couldn’t stop herself. Her body shook with the orgasm as it exploded. She was falling through nothingness, and at the bottom, waiting to catch her, was Quincy.
He crawled onto the bed beside her, kissing her slowly as her body rolled to be against his. She moaned against his lips when his erection pressed between her legs. His hand busied itself undoing the corset she wore and ripping it away so he could get to her breasts. Olivia’s hands wound into his hair as his lips moved across her skin and found a nipple, sucking it hard. He pressed her naked body against his, and she closed her eyes, reveling in his touch.
This was paradise. The island was nothing compared to what she felt in his arms. It was a rush of adrenaline with his heartbeat in time with hers, filled with a knowing that they were supposed to be together. As the thought crossed her mind, another followed. You can’t make this work. He is going to be king and you are just his stepsister, a flannel-wearing girl from Nebraska.
“God, I want you so badly,” he whispered, muffled between her breasts.
Olivia fought against the negativity filling her mind and lifted her leg up over his hip, pulling him closer against her. “Then take me.”
He lifted his head to gaze into her eyes and smiled. As he rolled them over so she was on her back, he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, gently kissing her forehead, her cheek, and her chin as he lifted his body over hers. Her legs spread wider, and with their gazes locked, he thrust deep inside her. Olivia cried out as her body took him in, and he groaned, but when she closed her eyes, he kissed them gently.
“No, keep them open. I want to watch you.”
She focused her eyes on his as he moved. Her back arched, pressing her breasts against his chest, rubbing her sensitive nipples against his skin and sending shocks of pleasure between her legs. With each thrust, he rubbed her clit. Olivia’s eyes saw only his, the pupils dilated and his brow furrowed as he groaned. Her legs wrapped around him, urging him on faster as her hands reached out, gripping the sheets, desperate to hold onto something, anything, as the cliff neared again. Her breaths came out in short bursts. Deep inside her, she felt him stiffen, and as she cried out, he filled her, groaning as his hips slowed and they fell together, eyes unmoving from the other’s.
In that moment, Olivia saw the love he felt for her burning within him. Their bodies still riding the climax, he leaned down and kissed her gently.
“I think I’m falling in love with you,” he whispered.
Olivia’s heart lurched at his words, and the voice started up again in her mind. She shouldn’t say it back. She knew it wasn’t going to work, but the words slipped out. “I am in love with you, Quincy.”
When he kissed her again, it wasn’t out of need for pleasure. It was out of want to be with her forever. She felt it in the way his hands trembled as he held her. They got up from the bed, and he carried her to the shower so they could wash. Later, when they were dried and lying in bed again, it wasn’t just passion they found in each other’s arms, but love. Quincy made love to her like she never had before with him. It was sweet and slow, more powerful than anything she’d experienced in her life.
Each kiss on her skin was slow and filled with purpose, exploring every inch of her body. Her hands explored his as well, finding each muscle and outlining them, committing them to memory along with the tattoos that ran across his back and shoulders. They took their time to learn the other’s ticklish spots and where Quincy could kiss and nip to make Olivia cry out instantly. And when she straddled him, taking him inside her at a leisurely pace, being sure to let herself experience every bit of him, he sat up to kiss her, holding her close as they moved as one. With each thrust of his hips, he moved deeper within her and every moan she made he took in, swallowing it with a kiss.
Her whole body cried out when they fell together again, only this time was different. This time, she felt the world turn over on itself, and as they lay there, holding each other close, Olivia knew she would never be the same again.
***
Quincy’s arm curled around a warm body in bed, and he grinned. Olivia. Last night had been insane, better than anything he’d experienced before, and that, if nothing else, told him he loved this woman. He cracked an eye open, smiling at the sun streaming in through the balcony—
“Shit!” He sat up fast, startling Olivia from her sleep.
“What? What’s wrong?”
Before he could answer, a knock sounded at the door followed by Allete’s voice. “Princess Olivia? Miss? Are you awake yet?”
“Shit,” Olivia repeated. “You have to hide!”
“Hide where?” he whispered as Allete knocked again.
“Just a minute! I don’t know—under the bed.” She gave him a shove, and he rolled off, thudding to the floor. While he scrambled to grab his clothes, Olivia jumped out the other side and grabbed her robe from the wardrobe.
“Are you alright, miss? What’s going on in there?”
“Fell out of bed. You know me, I’m a klutz.”
Quincy rolled his eyes and slid under the bed, pulling the bed skirt down behind him. He peeked out the other side and watched Olivia’s feet move to the door. She opened it, and Allete rushed in, moving quickly as she always did.
“Your room is a mess! What on earth did you do to your dress?”
“I was too tired last night to worry about it,” Olivia said. “I can get ready on my own this morning. Need to take a shower still.”
“Well, you go and do that. I’ll tidy up your room.” Quincy cursed as Allete’s feet moved closer to the bed.
“Actually,” Olivia said, “there’s something I need your help with. I… uh, I have an ingrown hair and I can’t reach it. I hate to ask. I know it’s gross, but think you can get it for me?”
Under the bed, Quincy bit back a laugh as the silence stretched on before Allete laughed.
“Ah, consider the slight pinch of pain payback for your shoes being thrown every which way when I’m not looking,” Allete said, still laughing. “Let’s look at this hair then, miss.”
Quincy watched their feet go across the room and scooted out the other side of the bed. Once out from underneath, he got to his feet and ran as quietly as he could to the balcony doors. He started to open one, and it creaked loudly.
“What was that?”
“Just the wind, I’m sure. The balcony doors like to blow a bit,” Olivia said. “Ah… I think it was right here.”
Quincy held his breath, opened one of the doors, and slipped through, quickly closing it again. A glance at the courtyard told him it was empty, and he slipped into his tux pants and shirt. The last thing he needed was to be spotted naked on the balcony. Dressed, he walked to the railing, but a painting sitting on the easel made him stop. It was of his private cove, beautifully rendered by Olivia’s hand. He’d seen it half finished before, but this was completed, signed and everything.
His eyes widened as they moved from the waves rolling in to the two figures on the beach, in the middle of making love in the moonlight. Their faces were hidden in shadow, but the details of the bodies were extraordinary. The way they held each other, even though it was painted, he saw the love in each stroke of the brush.
Although as he smiled at it, he knew the truth of what this morning meant. This had been too close. If they’d been caught, everything would be over, and his chance at finding a way to make this work would’ve been destroyed. His climb back to his room was just like last night’s when he’d been mulling over his father’s words about the arranged marriage. His choices shrank before his eyes until all he saw was Gigi walking towards him up an aisle while Olivia either went home or found herself in the arms of Edric. Neither thought made him happy. He walked into his room and slouched into a chair while his stomach twisted.
The doors to his room opened and Pascal stepped inside. “Ah, good morning, sir. Did you sleep in that last night?”
Quincy shrugged. “I hope you have coffee with you.”
Pascal took the serving tray from the other servant and politely asked him to leave. He walked to Quincy and set the tray down on the table before pouring him a steaming cup of coffee. “Did you have a difficult night, sir? All seemed in order when I saw you off last night.”
“I’ve had to do some thinking,” he said. “None of it good.”
“I am sorry to see you so glum about your own wedding, sir.” Pascal sat down in the opposite chair. “If there is anything I can do to help?”
“Yes, tell my father I need to speak with him today. I’ve made my decision.”
“Very well, sir. I shall tell him at once.” Pascal got up and walked to the door. When he reached it, he turned back. “I am sorry, sir. I wish things had worked out differently for you.”
“So do I, Pascal, so do I.”
Chapter 15
Olivia didn’t see Quincy all day, and she was too worried about Allete catching her if she said she needed to see him urgently. So she waited and waited all day for him to come out of conference with King Lamont. That didn’t happen until dinner when she couldn’t even speak to him alone.
He greeted her as always when she took her seat across from him at the small dining table, but there was no light in his eyes and he didn’t look at her. King Lamont, on the other hand, looked more pleased than she’d seen him in a long time, and her heart sank. She knew what had happened before he cleared his throat to make the announcement to her and Melinda.
“As you know, ladies, my son and I have been in conference all day,” Lamont said. “He has made his official decision on who he will choose as his wife. Lady Gigi Pentacraft. The wedding will take place one month after ours.”
“How wonderful,” Melinda exclaimed and reached out to pat Quincy’s hand. “You must be thrilled.”
“I am,” he murmured, but Olivia knew he faked it for her mother and the king. “I think it’s time to finally settle down and do what I must. Gigi will make a wonderful queen when the time comes.”
“Yes, she will,” Lamont agreed.
Olivia forced her lips to curl into a smile to hide how horribly her heart was breaking. “Congratulations, Quincy. That’s fantastic news.”
“Thank you,” he replied formally and lifted his glass to her in a toast. She hated how he sounded, and he still wouldn’t meet her eye. “I believe father has some news for you, too.”
Her mother grinned. “I kno
w what this is about.”
“What’s going on?” Olivia asked. Her hands twisted nervously in her lap. She nudged Quincy’s foot under the table, but he didn’t acknowledge her. “Am I in trouble?”
“On the contrary. I have been approached by Edric, and though you are not yet my daughter by marriage, he has asked for permission to court you,” Lamont said. “He has become quite infatuated with you, my dear.”
“Is that so?” She struggled to retain her smile.
“You can say no if you like, but I think he would be an excellent gentleman for you to get to know before you return to Nebraska. If you return,” Lamont said, lifting a finger on the word if. “You can give me your decision in the morning, and we can make it official.”
Olivia nodded in thanks and continued eating her dinner, but the fish no longer looked appetizing and the wine upset her stomach. She set her fork down and gulped her water, hoping the feeling would go away, but it only grew worse.
“Hon, are you alright? You look pale,” Melinda asked.
“I’m feeling a bit sick suddenly,” she said. “Think it’s a bug.”
“Do you want to go to bed early?”
“Yes, I think I might, Mom. Will you excuse me?” she said to Lamont and Quincy and hurried from the dining hall. She hurried down the corridor, nodding politely to servants and bodyguards she passed on her way to her room. She barely made it to the toilet in time before she was sick, losing what little dinner she’d managed to eat.
When she was finished, her face covered in a cold sweat and stomach still uneasy, she sat back against the wall in the bathroom. This wasn’t right. She didn’t feel sick, just off, and there was a fluttering lower in her stomach. She’d never felt anything like it before.
“Olivia? Can I come in?” Quincy called from the hall.
She tried to stand, but that only made her sick again. While she hugged the toilet, she heard the door open and steps before someone was there, pressing a cold cloth to her forehead and rubbing her back.
“You don’t need to see this,” she muttered between heaves.
