A Prince For Sophie

by Morgan Ashbury

  Chapter 2

  Alex could see Hannah just out of the corner of his eye.

  It had been too many days since he’d held her, too many nights since she’d shared his bed. He ached for her the way he imagined a man might ache for an arm or leg that had been severed.

  They had both lost their tempers, both said things they never should have said. He’d never been in this position before, and he didn’t know how to take them back to where he wanted them to be. He regretted the rift between them, but not his proposal. And it shamed him, while he stood in this house of God, to admit that a part of him, a prideful part, was damned if he would be the one to apologize, or relent.

  Last time he had, for he had clearly been at fault.

  But this time, he could not see how wanting to marry the woman he loved put him in the wrong.

  He directed his attention to the matter at hand as the archbishop began to outline the wedding ceremony to be performed the day after tomorrow.

  “I’ll give a brief homily as to the purpose of marriage in these modern times. Under the circumstances, I think I can get away with talking about God’s will bringing two souls from different continents and different walks of life together. After all, half a world separated you, and yet here you are, perfectly suited, each half of one whole. How special is it that of all the people in the world, you found each other? There can be no doubt that you were meant to be together.”

  Alex couldn’t prevent his gaze from going to Hannah. He knew the archbishop was speaking of the children, but the man’s words could so easily apply to Hannah and himself, as well.

  As he watched, she returned his gaze. Only a few feet separated them, so he could see the emotion etched on her face and swimming in her eyes. Longing and regret, love and pain.

  Perhaps some of the responsibility for the mess they were in was his, after all. He’d known all along that Hannah simply hadn’t been thinking in terms of forever. Knowing her and loving her, he knew her expectations had nothing to do with what lay between them, and everything to do with a previous marriage in which she had been denied the simplest desire, the most basic need. Her life before they met had taught her not to reach out, or expect anything more than what was at hand. This was why she thought she wasn’t ‘queen material’, as she’d said. He’d understood she believed they were only having an affair. He’d allowed her to go on thinking so, even when he had plans, hoping that time would be his ally and she would see how they were meant to be together.

  My God, I can’t do without her.

  “Does anyone have any questions?”

  Alex had dozens, but not for the archbishop. He turned to Hannah, not sure what he would say to her, but knowing he needed to say something.

  The expression in her eyes held him back. Looking around, he understood. Here and now belonged to Catharine and Philip. He nodded, ever so slightly. Her smile warmed him. He watched her as she moved off to give her daughter a hug. They would all be returning to the palace for dinner.

  Perhaps there would be time, after, to speak privately with her.

  * * * *

  Hannah’s heart proved to be divided.

  It was filled with joy, surrounded as she was by all of her family, seeing the happiness in her daughter’s eyes. It was also broken into tiny pieces, being so close to Alex and yet so very far away from him.

  How could something that had felt so right suddenly have gone so wrong?

  In one corner of the family salon, Michael, Craig and Peter were having an in-depth conversation. Seeing her two sons together after so many years of separation warmed her down to her soul.

  “You look misty.”

  She turned to her daughter-in-law, Pam.

  “I am. Just looking at my boys.”

  “Craig was ecstatic when he heard you’d found Peter. Then he wanted to wring his brother’s neck.”

  Hannah laughed. “He wasn’t the only one. Catharine nearly let her long-lost brother have it for being so long-lost. Jamie came to his new uncle’s rescue.”

  Dinner was announced, and she entered the solarium with her family, listening to the banter between the siblings—the Jones siblings and the de la Croix ones—pleased to be part of it all, yet feeling separate. Alex, she noted, was also quiet. A tension hummed between them, growing more taut with each passing hour.

  When Stephan proposed a toast to the bride-to-be, Catharine and Philip exchanged a look so tender it brought a lump to her throat.

  As soon as she could, when the dinner was over, she excused herself. Merriment filled the air and she wanted to cry. There was no way she would do anything to dampen anyone’s celebration. Catharine deserved every drop of happiness and Hannah would in no way detract from that. She needed the air, the evening breeze from the ocean, the soft beat of waves, and the warmth of sand under her feet. She needed for there to be no walls around her, and no people near her.

  The night opened its arms and took her in, surrounding her in a cloak of soulful darkness and the sounds of silence. The air was fresh and alive, and Hannah knew she’d made the right choice. It didn’t matter that tears tracked down her cheeks, here. Within the sanctuary of the night she was free to just be, and to feel. She made her way to the back of the grounds, and the stairs that led to the beach.

  Her eyes had adjusted, and she could see there were several chaises stretched out over the sand, waiting. She nearly sat, but then, kicking off her shoes, walked to the edge of the water instead. The gentle waves lapped over her toes, a constant rhythm like a heartbeat, calming and soothing her.

  The echoes of the scene in the Chapel rolled through her. While she knew the priest had been instructing Catharine and Philip when he’d spoken of destiny, he could just as well have been speaking to Alex and her.

  As if pulled by an unseen force, she had turned to him in that moment, and the power of the emotions she’d felt from him had left her shaken.

  The one thing she had no doubt about was that he loved her. He loved her more deeply and completely than she had ever dreamed of being loved.

  She loved him, too. And as the day approached when she would have to get on a plane and return to her home, the reality of that move—the finality of it—was eating at her soul.

  She knew she could live the rest of her life without him. But that life would have no joy in it.

  A joyless existence is what she’d had all of the forty-eight years she’d been on this earth before coming to this almost magical kingdom. Was that the future she wanted?

  A soft sound alerted her. Not unlike that first time, sensing she was no longer alone, she turned her head slightly. Her heart pounded just as hard in her chest as it had those few weeks ago. The only difference was she knew the whole of the man now, the strength and the heart of him. Her body craved, and her soul languished.

  * * * *

  She seemed more a goddess to him at this moment than she had that first time he’d encountered her on a lonely stretch of beach. For now he knew her heart and her soul. Now her body was as familiar to him as his own, and oh, how the flavor of her had invaded him completely.

  He had told her their affair was over unless or until she agreed to marry him. But under the cover of darkness, here on this beach, how could he not go to her? How could he not touch her?

  Words, he knew, would only complicate what their bodies deemed so simple and so true. They didn’t, either of them, need more words.

  They needed each other.

  She’d been crying. His heart lurched, because he knew he had a part in her tears. Reaching out, his touch gentle, he cupped her face, his thumbs stroking her cheeks where the tracks of moisture glistened in the moonlight. Then he lifted her face and kissed her.

  Her lips parted so sweetly. His tongue raced out, overjoyed to stroke and taste and dance with hers. He was addicted to her, he knew that now, as everything inside him turned right with sips of her. Leaving her face, his hands caressed shoulders, slid around her back, smoothed over her bottom before
pulling her close.

  Not words, but sounds, certainly. Her whimper, the most eloquent plea he’d ever heard wrapped around his heart. How could he not give them both what they so desperately craved?

  She held him, and he hardened instantly. With impatient moves, he raised her skirt, his hands seeking soft flesh. His fingers homed in on that silky needy spot between her thighs. The gush of moisture fired his blood. The primal beast in him reacted to the scent of her arousal in the most elemental way. He worked his fingers in and out of her, cupping her bottom, bringing her closer, then closer still. When she panted, when her fingers clutched at his back, he picked her up, carried her the few feet to one of the waiting chaises and laid her down. He didn’t strip either of them. There wasn’t time. He merely freed himself from his pants, pushed the crotch of her panties aside, and plunged.

  He’d never been naked inside her before. He knew he wouldn’t last. The feeling was so hot, so good, he couldn’t stop himself from indulging in her, wanted nothing more than to be drenched in her completely. She’d wrapped her legs around him and was returning his thrusts. He could feel the strain, the reaching, as she chased her climax.

  She’d told him, during one of their long-into-the-night chats that she could have no more children. In the moment before he flooded her womb with his seed, he wished with all his heart she could have his.

  Then her tunnel clutched and convulsed, shivering down his entire length. Her orgasm drew out his own and he was lost in the glory of her.

  * * * *

  The breeze was warm and the sky just gathering light when she opened her eyes. Hannah lay still for a long moment, simply watching Alex sleep. They’d passed the entire night on one of the chaises on the beach without saying a word. Every moment with him, his touch, his taste, his loving, had healed every crack in her soul. She felt complete now, as she’d only ever felt here, in this country, with this man.

  But they hadn’t resolved their differences. They’d merely ignored them for a short time.

  The darkness of the night was good for that, for not looking at what was difficult, for taking and feasting and being greedy. The darkness allowed you to do what the light of day would not.

  Alex slept on his side facing her, and he was the most handsome man she had ever known. He was also the most dear to her heart. Closing her eyes, she returned to that place in the night, to those stolen hours where the glide of his flesh against hers beat back all thought. She’d tasted and taken in turn, and the flavor of him intoxicated her still.

  She couldn’t go on this way. Neither of them could. Her daughter would be married tomorrow. Two days after that, Hannah was scheduled to fly home. She nearly laughed out loud. If the king will let me go. He’d not said anything since that threat. She had no doubt he was capable of following through with it.

  As carefully as possible, she slid away from Alex and got to her feet. It took her only a moment to right her clothes. Her panties, now nothing more than a torn handful of fabric and lace, lay on the sand in a small silky heap. Grateful her skirt had pockets, she gathered the scrap and stuffed it in one of them. Then, with one last lingering look at the man she loved, she turned and headed for the stairs.

  She would shower, and she would eat. And then she would take herself someplace quiet and try to decide how she was going to live the rest of her life.

  Chapter 3

  “Allow me to say good morning properly, Your Highness.”

  Those words were Sophie’s only warning before Stephan pulled her into his arms. She put her hands on his muscled biceps and pushed at the same moment she opened her mouth to protest. He’d obviously been waiting for just that because he swooped in and covered her parted lips with his own.

  She’d never been kissed like this before. Never had a man taste her with his tongue the way Stephan was doing. She couldn’t think, she could only feel. Heat moved over and through her as the wonderful flavor in her mouth exploded into something quivery and alive. Her belly clutched, her nipples hardened, and she imagined she was floating on air. Unable to do anything else, her tongue began to shyly slide against his, joining in the dance. Her arms wound around his neck, her fingers delving through the silky hair at his nape as her tongue stroked more boldly against his, the action thrilling her, racing her heart, speeding her blood.

  One of his hands stroked her bottom and the compulsion to move closer swamped her. When she gave in to it, when she pressed herself more tightly against him, she felt a ridge, hard and long, pressing against her belly.

  Startled, she pulled back, the reality of what he had done, what she had allowed him to do bursting the bubble of sensuality that had enveloped her.

  Clichéd as it was, Sophie’s hand came up, her arm in a swinging arc, intending to deliver a slap as sharp as his flavor and as hard as the cloth-covered penis that had poked her.

  He grabbed her wrist, easily holding her off.

  “You kissed me back, little one. If you had not, I would allow you the slap. A fair trade for the pleasure of you on my tongue. But you did kiss me back—and very hotly, too. So I am saving you from committing a hypocritical act.”

  Sophie’s mouth opened, but before she could speak, he leaned closer, his grin entirely too appealing for her peace of mind. “I like the taste of you, Sophie de la Croix. I’ll be kissing you again.”

  Sophie was stunned into silence. How could he function well enough to deliver that snappy line, and then walk oh-so-casually away?

  Well, of course he could. That kiss hadn’t done a darn thing to him except give him something to laugh about. He was, after all, the playboy prince. She doubted he had earned that nickname by keeping his hands and his mouth to himself.

  “’I’ll be kissing you again’. Ha! We’ll just see about that!”

  She nodded once, sharply, proud of her retort, regardless of the fact that the man it was directed at didn’t hear it.

  Then, for a long moment, she stared into space, her head slowly shaking in disbelief at her own actions. Stephan had scrambled her brain and taken all the oxygen from her body. She wanted to affirm that he had offended her, too. But in her secret heart of hearts she could not claim offence. The impulse to slap him had been fleeting, and brought on more by the smug look he’d worn when she’d broken the kiss.

  How did one discourage such a man? It was something Sophie had never had to consider before. Generally, she was able to put men off with almost no effort at all. Yes, part of that was her innate coldness. But part of it had to do with the decision she had made so long ago.

  She would never marry, never have children of her own.

  Something of her decision, of her resolve, must always have been obvious to everyone. No one had ever dared to even encroach on her personal space, let alone grab her up into a lusty kiss.

  No one until His Royal Highness, Prince Stephan of Montgermane.

  Looking around, Sophie realized she was still standing in the corridor, outside the door to her suite. She had been on her way to breakfast when that…that…kiss thief had swooped down on her.

  She turned and directed her steps toward the central staircase, determined to continue on with her morning routine despite the strange interlude that had shaken her to her toes.

  * * * *

  “I hope I am not disturbing you, Madame Jones.”

  Stephan felt compelled to announce his presence. The lady sitting alone in the breakfast room seemed lost in thought. He prized his own moments of solitude too highly to knowingly intrude upon another’s. He would have preferred a few more moments alone to fully assess that kiss. He’d moved on Sophie to ruffle her feathers, and instead his entire world had been turned upside down.

  He’d spoken only the truth when he told her he liked the flavor of her. What he didn’t tell her was that he now fully intended to do a whole hell of a lot more than taste her.

  Hannah Jones blinked as if just waking up, then smiled warmly, if a bit distractedly. “Not at all, Your Highness. Please, join me
.”

  “Then I shall, for nothing can begin the day better than to share a meal with a beautiful woman. But please, you must call me Stephan.”

  “And you must call me Hannah.”

  Her smile was sincere, and he couldn’t help but return it. He and Michael had spoken the evening before. The situation his friend had shared his concerns about only re-enforced what Stephan had already observed. He’d known there was some sort of tension between Hannah and the king. He was delighted for the man he’d always called Uncle Alex certainly deserved a woman who would warm his bed and lift his heart. In the short time he’d known her it was clear to him that Hannah Jones was such a woman. However, he didn’t share Michael’s concern that they would fail to mend their relationship. Uncle Alex was far too wise a man to let such a treasure get away.

  In the meantime, Michael had shared one tidbit with him, and the imp within him needed no urging to tease—his second favorite pastime.

  “I understand there may be some question with regard to your freedom to leave Boisdemer.”

  From the round-eyed look of shock on Hannah’s face, he’d just surprised her with his cavalier bluntness. She blinked once. Then her eyes filled with humor.

  “There may, indeed. We shall have to see.”

  “There exists an interesting history between our two countries for as long as anyone can remember. Should the need arise, I can offer you sanctuary and spirit you out of Cardinia.”

  “Now why does that have all the feeling of that old cliché, ‘out of the frying pan and into the fire’?”

  “Because the history of which my friend speaks is that the kings and princes of Montgermane—who are, mind you, descended from gypsies—would offer sanctuary to noble travelers, only to then hold them for ransom.”

  Stephan turned at the sound of Michael’s sardonic statement, grinning at his friend’s verbal sally.

  “Really, mon ami, we hardly ever do that anymore. Please, you will frighten this beautiful lady.”