Shy Queen in the Royal Spotlight

by Natalie Anderson

  ‘You are so hot,’ he said as he picked her up and carried her to his bed as if she weighed nothing. ‘I knew you were.’

  She didn’t care what he knew, she just needed him closer. She needed more. ‘Alek.’

  She pulled him down to her. She’d never been this close to anyone and she didn’t want it to end yet, not now she’d only just begun to discover him. Her hand slid up his chest, gingerly spreading her fingers to explore him.

  ‘You can touch me.’ He drew a shaking breath. ‘Anywhere you want. Anyhow.’

  She realised he wanted her to touch him. As much as she wanted him to touch her. This was give and take. Desire and hunger. She slid her hand further and watched him tense with pleasure at her touch. And then all reticence fled and she was driven to discover more. She helped him out of his suit, relishing the slow revelation of his gorgeous body. She caressed every inch of his muscled beauty, pausing when she ran her fingers over a jagged scar on his rump—not wanting to hurt him but wondering what had happened. He smiled, pulling her closer, and she forgot her question in the heat and tease of his kisses. He’d locked her in a dungeon of desire—hidden deep inside the heart of the palace, she was a prisoner to the overwhelming lust he aroused.

  ‘Please,’ she whispered. Her throat was so dry the word hardly sounded.

  ‘Hester,’ he groaned. ‘I need you to tell me what you want me to do.’

  ‘I thought you didn’t like being told what to do?’ She shuddered as he slid his leg between hers.

  ‘I can make an exception for you.’ He gazed into her eyes, his hips grinding delightfully against hers in a slow, tormenting motion. ‘Do you want me to kiss you?’

  ‘Yes.’

  So he did—so thoroughly and lushly that she arched, unable to resist the urges of her body. He kissed, not just her mouth, but her neck and her chest. He kissed, nipped and nibbled, working his way lower and lower, kissing parts of her that had never been kissed before.

  ‘Do you want me to touch you?’ he breathed huskily against her belly.

  ‘Yes.’

  His hands swept over her—more and more intimately teasing and tormenting her until she writhed beneath him and even though he’d made her soar only minutes before, that empty ache inside was utterly unbearable.

  And somehow he knew. He lifted himself up above her and looked directly, deeply into her eyes. ‘Do you want me inside you?’

  She wanted everything. Most of all she didn’t want this good feeling to end. ‘Yes.’

  But he didn’t smile. ‘You’re sure?’

  ‘This is like a dream, Alek. Just for tonight.’

  ‘A dream?’ He shook his head. ‘This isn’t a dream you can wake up from and take back, Hester.’

  Her anger built. She’d not had this—not opened herself up to anyone—ever. And all she wanted was him. Now. And she didn’t want him to make her wait any longer. ‘Don’t say anything more,’ she moaned. ‘Don’t spoil it.’

  He tensed.

  ‘And don’t stop,’ she demanded fiercely. ‘Yes. I want you.’

  His smile spread across his face and then he kissed her again. Until she arched, until she moaned, until she couldn’t form words. For a moment he paused—vaguely she realised he was protecting them both—but then he was back, big and heavy against her, and she revelled in it. He slid his hand beneath her bottom and held her still enough for him to press close. She gasped as she felt his thickness sear into her.

  ‘Hester?’ he breathed.

  ‘Yes. Alek.’ She wanted this. Him.

  As he pushed closer still she trembled. He was so big and so strong and she was suddenly overwhelmed. But he moved so slowly, so carefully and then he kissed her again—in that deep, lush way, as if he’d wanted nothing more in all his life than to kiss her. As if she were the very oxygen he needed to survive. That was when everything melted within her and he slid to the hilt, so they were as deeply connected as they could possibly be. Her need coalesced again into a cascading reaction of movement. He pushed her to follow his sweet, hard, slick rhythm—into a dance she’d never known, but discovered she could do so damn well with him. His breathing roughened as she clutched him back, as she understood more the give and take, the meet and retreat of this magic. Together they moved faster, deeper...until she cried out as he brought unbearable, beautiful pleasure down upon her. As he broke through every last one of her boundaries to meet her right there—where there was light and heat and sheer physical joy.

  And finally, when she couldn’t actually move, when her body was so wrung out, so limp from that tornado of ecstasy, a small smile curved his gorgeous lips. He rolled but pulled her close, draping her soft body over his. And he kissed her again—a sweet intimacy she was still so unused to, and still so desperately hungry for. So hungry, in fact, that it took only one long, lush kiss to stir her hips into that primal circling dance again.

  ‘Oh, Hester,’ he muttered and swept his hands down her yearning body. ‘You’re magnificent.’

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  ALEK RESTED ON his side, watching her sleep—half impatient, half fascinated—until she finally stirred. Her gaze skittered away from his as she sat up. For the first time in his life he was unsure how to handle the morning after.

  ‘Sorry I slept in.’ She slithered from the bed and swiftly reached for the robe lying across the nearby chair. ‘I had an amazing time. Thank you.’

  Amazing? She had no idea what amazing was. But he supposed it was better than her telling him it had been ‘fine’.

  ‘No regrets?’ He pushed for more than this awkward politeness from her.

  ‘I don’t think it would be right to regret something that felt that good.’ She belted his favourite robe tightly around her waist, hiding her perfection from him again. ‘I’ll go back to my room now.’

  ‘You don’t have to,’ he said huskily, rubbing a sore spot he felt in his chest.

  Ordinarily he’d be relieved to have a lover leave him with such little fuss, but he wanted Hester to stay. But every ounce of her shy reserve had returned.

  ‘I know...but I...um...’ She drew breath. ‘My clothes are in there.’ She silently sped from the room—as if she daren’t leave a mark or a sound.

  And he just let her.

  He stared into the blank space. Breaking through her shell had been difficult and this morning it had just bounced back into place. Maybe she needed some time alone to process what had happened? Honestly, maybe he did too. Maybe letting her leave now might mean she’d be comfortable coming back soon.

  Just this once.

  That was what she’d whispered last night and if he were being sensible, that was how he’d leave this. But he rubbed his chest again as the reality of the situation hit hard. His sexual attraction to her hadn’t been assuaged but exacerbated. Worse was his burgeoning curiosity about everything else about her. He wanted to understand it all—her bag and her box and the books she’d not kept. Why did she have so few belongings?

  And the emptiness of his bedroom hurt. Suddenly he hated that she’d walked out on him. That he’d made it so easy for her to be able to. He should have stopped her. He should have seduced her. He should have stripped back her protective prickles again and found that hot, sweet pleasure with her.

  He gazed out of the window, noting the blazing sun and blue sky. Personal temptation stirred harder. He’d just married for his country—didn’t he deserve a few moments of private time?

  He phoned his assistant, Marc. ‘I know we have meetings this morning, but I plan to take Hester to the stud this afternoon. Make the arrangements.’

  ‘Sir?’

  ‘Two nights,’ he repeated. ‘Make the arrangements.’

  A minute later he knocked on the door of her apartment and turned the handle. ‘Hester?’

  She’d not locked it and he found her in the centre of her loung
e, that wooden box in her hand. He watched as she awkwardly secured the loose lid in place with two thick rubber bands.

  ‘Sorry,’ she apologised and put the box on a nearby table. ‘How can I help?’

  He disliked her deferential attitude and the reminder of that ‘contract’ between them. Hadn’t they moved past that last night?

  ‘Come breakfast with me by the pool,’ he invited. ‘Then I have a few meetings, but this afternoon we’re taking a trip. You’ll need to pack enough for a couple of days.’

  ‘A trip?’ Hester could hardly bring herself to look at him; all she could think of was what they’d done last night. All night. How good he’d made her feel. ‘I thought we had to stay in the city to oversee the coronation plans and practise everything a million times.’ She doggedly tried to focus on their responsibilities. ‘Do I really have to kneel before you all by myself?’

  ‘All citizens of Triscari do, but especially the King’s wife.’

  ‘It’s a wonder you don’t want me to lie prostrate on the floor,’ she grumbled.

  ‘Well, of course I do, but perhaps not in front of everyone else.’ He sent her a wicked double-dimpled look. ‘We can do that alone later. Anyway, apparently the plans are in hand so we can steal a couple of days for a honeymoon.’

  A honeymoon? Her stomach somersaulted. Was he joking? She stood frozen but he bent and brushed his lips over hers briefly, pulling away with a shake of his head.

  ‘No.’ He laughed. ‘You can’t tempt me yet.’

  ‘I didn’t tempt you,’ she muttered. ‘I didn’t do anything.’

  ‘Hester,’ he chided softly. ‘You don’t have to do anything to tempt me.’ He cocked his head and gave her a little push. ‘Now, head to the pool. I’ll meet you there shortly.’

  * * *

  Hester stretched out on a sun lounger, trying to read, but her brain was only interested in replaying every second of the previous night. Her body hummed, delighting in the recollections. She’d not realised the extent of what she’d been missing out on. No wonder people risked so much for sex. But she knew it would never be like that with just anyone. It hadn’t just been Alek’s experience or ‘expertise’. It had felt as if he’d cared—not that he was in love with her, of course, but that he was concerned for her feelings, for her to receive pleasure. That he desired to see her satisfied. She’d not had that courtesy, that caring, from anyone in so long. It was partly her own fault—she’d not let anyone get close in years. She’d not intended to let Alek get close either, but somehow he’d swept aside all her defences. Swiftly. Completely. So easily.

  She knew sleeping with her meant nothing truly meaningful to him, not really. This was merely a bonus to their arrangement. She’d consider it that way as well. She could keep her heart safe—not fancy that she was falling for him, like a needy waif who’d never been loved...

  But some distance right now was so necessary—which was why this talk of a honeymoon terrified her.

  It’s just one year.

  And last night had been just that once. They’d blurred the lines and perhaps that had been inevitable. While she didn’t regret it, she couldn’t get carried away on a tide of lust and mistake his actions for meaning anything more than mere physical attraction.

  But Alek fascinated her far beyond that. She’d instinctively believed he had more depth than he let show and she’d been right. He’d been hurt by his mother’s death, frustrated by his father’s control over him, protective of his sister. And now of her.

  There was meaningful intention in most of his actions. The playboy persona was part rebellion, only one element of his whole. He was also honourable, loyal, diligent and he did what was necessary for his country.

  Okay, yes, just like that she was halfway to falling for him.

  She swam, trying to clear her head and ease the stiffness in her body. Lunch was delivered on a tray to the table beside her lounger. After eating, she went back to her apartment to pack. But when she went to put her wooden box in her bag, it wasn’t on the table where she’d left it. She stared at the empty space, confused. She’d opened it only this morning, but now? She whirled, quickly scanning every possible surface but the box wasn’t on any. She broadened her search but it was fruitless. Finally she hit panic point—repeating the search with vicious desperation, tipping out her bag and tearing up the place.

  ‘Hester? What’s happened?’

  She froze. She’d not heard him knock and now he was in the middle of her mess with his eyes wide.

  ‘It’s missing.’ She hugged herself tightly, but couldn’t claw back any calm. ‘I can’t go.’

  He didn’t answer as he slowly stared around her room. Hester followed the direction of his gaze and realised what a mess she’d made of the place. She’d opened and emptied every cupboard and drawer in the apartment and still not found it. Cushions and pillows were strewn across the floor alongside books and blankets.

  His focus shot back to her. ‘Your box?’

  ‘Yes,’ she breathed, stunned that he realised what she meant so quickly. ‘Who would take it?’ Her anxiety skyrocketed all over again.

  ‘You were going to pack it? You take it everywhere with you?’

  ‘Yes.’ She couldn’t bear to lose it—it held everything.

  A strange expression flashed across his face. ‘Wait here. Just wait. Two minutes.’

  ‘Alek?’ Confused, she leaned against the wall, her arms still wrapped around her waist as his footsteps receded.

  It was more than two minutes before he returned but she was locked in position, blinking back tears. She stared as she realised what he was holding. ‘Why?’ Her voice cracked. ‘Why would you take it?’

  ‘I thought I could get it back before you noticed it was gone. I’m sorry for upsetting you.’

  ‘Why would you—?’ Furious, she broke off and struggled to breathe as she took the box from him and saw it close up. The lid was open while the interior was empty. Heat fired along her veins and her distress grew. ‘Where’s everything gone?’

  ‘I have it all, just in my room. I’ll get them now.’

  ‘Why?’ The word barely sounded but he’d already gone.

  Hester sank onto the sofa, snatching a breath to study the box properly. She closed then reopened the lid. It didn’t fall off any more, while the rubber bands were gone altogether.

  Her bones jellified as she realised what he’d done.

  Alek returned and carefully set a small tray on the low table in front of her sofa. It held everything she’d kept. All the little things. All her precious memories.

  ‘The lid opens and closes again.’ She blinked rapidly as he sat beside her. ‘It has a new hinge.’

  ‘Yes.’ He cleared his throat. ‘I took it this morning after you went to the pool. I thought...’ He paused and she felt him shift on the sofa. ‘I knew it was precious to you. I knew it was broken. So I—’

  ‘Had it fixed.’ Her voice almost failed.

  ‘I wanted it to be a surprise...’ He trailed off and blew out a breath. ‘I should’ve asked you,’ he muttered roughly. ‘I’m so sorry. You probably loved it as it was.’

  ‘Broken?’ She shook her head and her words caught on another sob as she was unable to restrain the truth. ‘It broke my heart when it happened.’

  He gazed at her and the empathy in his eyes was so unbearable, she had to turn away from it.

  ‘I can’t even see where the crack was.’ She stared hard at the box, refusing to let her banked tears tumble.

  ‘We have an amazing craftsman—he maintains the woodwork in the castle. He’s exceptionally skilled,’ Alek explained.

  ‘And so fast...’ She ran her finger over the lid of the box. How had he done this in only a few hours?

  ‘I talked to him about it before the wedding so he knew the issues.’

  ‘Before the weddin
g?’ Her heart skipped. He’d noticed her box and planned this?

  ‘I wanted to get a wedding gift that you would like.’

  Her throat was so tight it wouldn’t work. That he’d thought to do this for her? It was more precious than any jewels, any other expensive, exquisite item. And she wasn’t used to someone wanting to do something so nice for her.

  ‘I didn’t get you anything.’ She finally looked at him directly, instantly trapped in his intent gaze.

  He shook his head gently. ‘You’ve done enough by marrying me, Hester.’

  That was enough? Just that contract? Somehow she didn’t want that to be enough for him. She wanted him to want more from her. That dangerous yearning deepened inside—renewed desire for that intimacy they’d shared last night. But he’d let her leave this morning. He’d barely said anything. Horribly insecure, she tore her gaze from his and turned back to the table, taking in the contents of the second tray.

  ‘Did your craftsman put these here for you?’ Her heart skidded at the thought. She needed to touch each talisman and make them hers again.

  ‘No. I didn’t want him going through your things,’ he said softly. ‘I took them out before giving him the box.’

  Something loosened inside. She was glad it was only he who’d touched them. He’d been thoughtful and kind and suddenly the walls within crumbled and her truth, all her emotion, leaked out—sadness and secrets and sacrifice.

  ‘The box was my father’s,’ she said quietly. ‘Actually it was his great-grandfather’s, so it’s really old. It was for keeping a pocket watch and cufflinks and things. I loved it as a child and Dad gave it to me for my treasures. Marbles I had, sea glass I found. We found this piece together when I was...’ She trailed off as she held the piece in her hand. Memories washed over her as they always did when she opened the box—which wasn’t often at all purely because of the intensity of emotion it wrought within her. But it was also why she loved it, why it was so very precious and so personal and she couldn’t help whispering the secrets of more. ‘The pencil was my mother’s.’ It was only a stub of a pencil. And the remnant of the thin leather strap from her purse. ‘You must think I’m pathetic.’ She quickly began putting the other items away. ‘All these broken little things—’