“Lindsey?” I tried not to sound breathless as he caressed me.
“My sister.” His voice was getting deeper, that tone he had when he was getting aroused.
I touched his thigh. The heat radiated off him. “You have a sister?”
“Half-sister. My dad married again, and they had a daughter. When they died, she took the house.” He shifted, giving my hand more room to play closer to his best play zone.
“But you said it was yours.” I slid my hand in the crevice of his thigh and hip.
“It is. Technically. I’m the duke, so it’s mine. But I have no desire to stay there, so she does. She grew up there, it was her home more than it was mine.” He inched his finger closer to my center, barely grazing me through my pants.
“That’s nice of you.” My voice sounded terribly heady.
“I’ll take you over there while we’re here.” He continued touching me, very subtly but very, very effectively.
I bit my lip as we rode, my desire building, and it was taking forever to reach the palace. Hadrian didn’t stop tormenting me, and I didn’t give him a rest either, my finger grazing him through his slacks.
Robert rode in the front, and I kept letting my eyes flicker to the driver. Was he watching what we were doing? Did he know I was teasing my husband? Could he see Hadrian’s hand?
Hadrian leaned over, pointing out this and that as we rode, but he mostly used it as an excuse to kiss the shell of my ear or my neck.
By the time we arrived at the palace, I was so electrified, I didn’t really know what to expect when I saw it.
Cinderella’s castle maybe?
Not even close.
The place looked more like a medieval church than a palace, tall gothic spires, ornate work around the front.
The lawn was meticulously manicured, and everything was, well, perfect.
It was a strange sort of fairy tale.
The car came to a smooth stop, and we were greeted at the door by a butler. Hadrian introduced me, I think, I vaguely remember smiling, I was too busy staring at everything and trying to figure out when I could get some alone time with my husband.
There was a set of stairs across from the door, which led up to an open hallway, and doors lined the upper area, all of them pretty much the same looking.
And everywhere, there were royal guards. All dressed in black suits, all the size of refrigerators.
Everything flew by so quickly, the next thing I knew, Hadrian and the butler were ushering me upstairs. Hadrian spoke in a quick liquid language that sounded like a blend of French and Italian, and I didn’t get a word of it.
We entered one of the doors to the left of the stairs, a bit away from the other rooms. I felt like I was stepping into a spa that I couldn’t afford.
Hadrian waited as two more servants—where had they come from—brought in my luggage, and a woman appeared, practically coming out of the walls, and started putting away my clothes.
“Really,” I said, stepping toward her. “I can do that.”
She glanced at me. “’Zis is my job, ma’am.” Her accent was thick, but understandable. French, it sounded.
Hadrian stepped to my side, his hand on the small of my back. He said something to her, another quick conversation, and the woman left the room. Hadrian followed her to the door, and I heard the click of the lock.
Only then did I allow myself to look around. The room was incredible. Arabesque, I believed was the style of the furniture. Very opulent, very beautiful, and I imagined one of the pieces would cost my year’s salary.
I ran my fingers over the small vanity table in the corner of the sitting room.
“Wow,” I whispered. “You royals don’t scrimp on decoration.”
“The queen is funny that way,” he replied as he came up behind me. I could see him in the mirror over the vanity table. A hunter stalking his prey.
A very dangerous look.
My toes curled in my shoes.
He wrapped his arms around me. “We are alone now.” He started nibbling on my throat. I could see him in the mirror, his dark hair falling over his face, and through the veil of hair, he glanced at me, his amber eyes jewels in the dark.
I let out a groan. My hips immediately rocked into his, and one of his hands slid over my breast. I didn’t know what was more erotic, the way he touched me, or the fact that I could see it in the mirror.
I needed this.
“Hadrian.” He stroked my breast, nibbling on my neck, and generally strumming me to a higher and higher chord. I braced myself on the tabletop, my hands clattering into the small bottles and knick-knacks that were spread about for decoration.
“I can’t wait much longer,” he whispered, one hand sliding down between my legs. I rocked against his touches.
“Me either.” I turned around, and he captured my lips in a hard, powerful kiss. He held my hips, guiding me backwards, and I was pressed against the vanity table, his hand clearing off the space. Glass clattered on the floor, and for a second, I hoped nothing broke.
Though it was only a second.
Hadrian kept my mind pretty well occupied.
He yanked open my button-down and popped my breasts free of their bindings. In a flash, he was sucking on one nipple, while tormenting the other with his fingers.
I pushed him away. “Yeah, yeah, yeah.” As awesome as he felt, I wasn’t in the mood to play around. I needed him inside me, and I needed it now.
Hadrian stared at me as though I’d hurt him. Or taken away his play toy.
“Fuck me,” I said, unfastening my slacks, and trying to shimmy them down. “Fuck me now.”
Hadrian’s expression turned primal, and he grabbed my pants, jerking them off. He shoved his own down and I wrapped my legs around his waist, and he directed me to the edge of the table, and angled himself just right.
“I love you,” he whispered, plunging inside me.
I cried out as he impaled me, my hands in his hair. He brought his head down to my shoulder, biting me as he started to move.
I moaned and cried, bucking against him, desperate to feel, to know that this was what I wanted, that this was my husband.
Mine…
It was fast, it was frenzied, it was wild and animalistic, but it was what we needed.
I was claiming him. I buried my head in the crook of his shoulder, and I clamped down on the flesh.
He came with a cry, and I followed, mere seconds after him. How loud we were, I wasn’t sure. It was loud. Not that I cared. We needed this. This was our consummation. Our tie that binds. No matter what, he was mine, and I was his.
And that particular thought made me feel pretty darn good.
Both of us had sweat on our brows, and we smelled of sex and desire.
Just the perfume I liked on my husband.
“Shouldn’t we be getting ready to meet the king and queen?” I asked, when I finally had come back to earth.
“We should take a shower first,” Hadrian said.
I smiled. “I like that idea.”
After they’d dressed, Hadrian led Sydney downstairs for a formal dinner. He wasn’t wearing a tux, but he did have on a tie. Sydney dressed similarly, though he could tell she felt awkward in the skirt and blouse. They were rather conservative compared to the T-shirts and jeans she was used to wearing.
He even noticed she’d put on panty hose. Those would be fun to take off later. He wondered if they were the kind with the garter belt.
He forced back the thought as they crossed the main foyer toward the dining room, where, as far as he knew, the entire family was waiting for them. “You look beautiful.”
She ran a hand through her hair, brushing her bangs out of her face. “Tell me again why this isn’t breakfast?”
Hadrian smiled. “We’re seven hours ahead of the states. So it’s dinner.” He squeezed her hand. “And we can go back to bed sooner.”
She smiled, her cheeks blushing. “I see.”
They were about halfwa
y across the floor when the butler, Durkins, approached, and started leading them toward the parlor. “Drinks are here, Highness,” he said in a regal tone.
Hadrian rolled his eyes as the butler turned away.
Syd caught the gesture.
“This will be a formal dinner,” Hadrian whispered, and he didn’t hide his irritation. He’d hoped they could do this simply, informally, and not scare the crap out of Sydney the first time she met them.
Evidently not.
When they reached the door, the butler paused, glanced at them both, his eyes running up and down Syd in a way that only Durkins could do, both belittling and still remaining in his station.
Whether Syd noticed or not, Hadrian wasn’t sure. She squeezed his hand and tugged at her blouse.
He slipped her hand on his elbow as Durkins opened the door.
“Presenting the Duke and Duchess of Bouzio, Hadrian and Sydney Drake.”
Hadrian said nothing, but he couldn’t help the grin on his face as they walked in.
Evidently, the king and queen already accepted the marriage. Otherwise, Durkins would have never announced Sydney as the duchess. Out of the corner of his eye, Hadrian saw Durkins, and the old man gave the slightest nod of approval as he escorted Sydney into the room.
There wasn’t a formal greeting line, as Hadrian half-expected. His cousins roamed around the room, everyone sort of chatting with one another, the children playing a board game on the floor in the center.
This room used to be the king’s study. Evidently, it had been converted to a lounge of sorts. The books were still on the walls, but the king’s desk was gone, instead replaced by a more casual sitting area.
“Hadrian!” came a girl’s voice… Rather, a woman’s voice now. He released Sydney. “Lindsey!”
His sister ran to him, and he scooped her up in his arms and spun her around. “So, are you planning on staying more than a minute this time?”
“Yes,” she said with a laugh as he set her down. “The dig finished up a few days ago, and the rest of the work I can do from here.”
“Dig?” Sydney asked, putting her hand on Hadrian’s.
“My sister thinks she’s a real-life Indiana Jones.” Hadrian grinned at his sister. He’d barely gotten to speak to her at Dante’s funeral. She’d come home long enough for her royal duty, then went back.
The only thing he had gotten out of her was that digging helped her deal.
“Laura Croft, not Indiana Jones, Hadrian.” She turned to Sydney. “I’m Lindsey Drake, Hadrian’s sister. I’m studying archeology, and I’ve been in Egypt for the last six months on a dig.”
“A pleasure to meet you, Your Highness,” Sydney said, attempting a slight curtsy. “Find anything cool on the dig?”
Lindsey grinned. “Stop that, you don’t have to curtsey me, I’m barely royalty.”
Sydney grinned at her. “It seemed appropriate.”
Lindsey waved her hand around. “Don’t worry about it. And in answer to your question, we did find cool stuff on the dig.”
Hadrian smirked at his sister. Even though she’d grown up here, she felt the same disconnect from the royal life as he did. She followed her own path and became an archeologist. “Be careful, Sydney, you’ll never get her to shut up once she gets going.”
Lindsey spat at her brother in Korosian. “You be nice to me, big brother, or I’m going to tell her about you discovering your pubic hair.”
Hadrian started to laugh. “You wouldn’t dare,” he replied in Korosian.
She raised her eyebrow. “Try me.”
Sydney’s hand waved in the air. “Hello, I’m right here. Can’t understand a word.”
Lindsey smiled. “I was reminding my big brother the importance of good behavior.”
Syd raised her eyebrow. “Uh huh.”
It was a whirlwind sea of faces after that. Hadrian’s second cousins, the ones that called him uncle even though he really wasn’t, attacked, all in grammar school, and full of questions about everything. They thought, even though they were princes and princesses, that Hadrian was the coolest, because he was on television. Even if it was a cooking show.
Then came his cousin Elizabeth and her husband George, the parents of most of the little ones.
Sydney greeted everyone properly, taking in each person’s name with a nod of her head. Though her body was tense, she kept a cool façade.
He wondered if this was how she worked at her salon, able to smile and nod and converse easily when needed.
Michel looked a thousand times better than the last time Hadrian had seen him, though it was obvious he was still weak. Michel didn’t approach, and Hadrian escorted Sydney to him, pulling her away from the children, who found it amazing that she’d once had blue hair.
Heather, ever vigilant, was at his side. Her pregnancy was blossoming, and she glowed from within.
“Heather,” Hadrian said, greeting his cousin-in-law with a kiss on each cheek. “This is Sydney.”
Heather tipped her head to the side, appraising Sydney. “You are the one he was so taken with.” She smiled, a tight one, but one he knew to be complete approval. “A pleasure.”
Sydney, who’d been doing the best she could, though it was obvious she was overwhelmed, took Heather’s hand. “Thank you. A pleasure to meet you as well, Your Highness.”
Michel stood. Hadrian could tell it strained him a little to do it. He looked thicker around the middle, but a crease in his shirt showed lines from a bandage underneath.
He probably shouldn’t be standing at all. And once again the propriety of being royal ticked him off. Certain things had to be done certain ways, and Hadrian hated it.
“This is the Crown Prince Michel Drake,” Hadrian said, holding out his hand to Michel to help him stand.
Michel rolled his eyes at him. “Get over it.”
“Your Highness,” Sydney said with another curtsey. She was getting pretty good at them. She didn’t seem to wobble at all that time.
Michel smiled and reached out toward Sydney. “Your Grace.”
Sydney held out her hand, as though to shake, but Michel turned it and kissed the top.
Her eyes went wide, and her cheeks blushed as she pulled her hand back.
“Hadrian could not have picked a more lovely bride,” Michel said with a twinkle in his eye, the first sign Hadrian had seen of the old, ever so charming cousin he was.
“Thank you, Your Highness.”
Hadrian slipped his arm around her, and she sort of melted into his side, like she was kind of afraid of Michel. “Heather, your husband never stops, does he?”
“One would think a hole in the gut would curb his flirting, but it obviously hasn’t.” Heather rubbed her stomach, a soft smirk on her face as Michel sat down.
“How will my subjects love me if I don’t charm them?” Michel ran his hand through his hair after he was settled.
“Possibly by being a fair and just king?” Heather countered.
“Where’s the fun in that?” Michel said with a laugh.
“How are you feeling?” Hadrian asked.
“Like I was shot in the gut. But otherwise, exceptional.” Michel went into a few more details that Hadrian probably could have lived without knowing, but he smiled and nodded and answered appropriately. Sydney did the same, though her eyes kept darting to Heather’s stomach.
His cousin-in-law’s stomach made his thoughts wander to Sydney. She would be looking like that soon, swollen with his child. The thought gave him a manly puff of pride.
“And how are you feeling?” he asked Heather, gesturing to her tummy.
“Wonderful. We are having a boy,” she said with a grin.
The huge, cheesy grin that spread over Hadrian’s face must have been infectious, because Sydney started grinning, as did the rest of them. “Congratulations.” He patted Heather’s tummy. “And to you, future Crown Prince,” he said, leaning down to talk to the baby.
Michel laughed and pushed Hadrian away.
“That’s my crown prince in there, buddy.”
“Touchy, touchy,” Hadrian said with a laugh.
“Congratulations,” Sydney told Heather, her hand unconsciously going to her own stomach.
Heather saw the gesture. “When are you due?”
“September, early October.”
Michel slapped Hadrian on the shoulders. “You deserve some congratulations yourself.”
“Joy to the world,” Hadrian said, looked around, puzzled, realizing that there were no servants milling around the room. When he was in Koros, he was used to a servant being there, ready to pour a drink that to not see one seemed out of place.
Hadrian stepped to the bar and began making drinks. Still, it felt a little strange. “There’s no one here.”
“The king wanted this to be a servant-free zone,” Michel said. “Said we were getting too used to being waited on. That it was important to remember to pour our own drinks.”
Hadrian laughed. “He’s been reading those books about high-powered men poisoned by their servants again, hasn’t he?”
“Think so.” Hadrian took Michel’s glass and refilled it, handing it back to his cousin.
Elizabeth and George came over toward them, having settled the children back down on a board game in the center of the room. “What are we drinking to?” she asked as she took her glass and her husband’s and took the couple of steps to the bar to refill their glasses.
“Hadrian’s going to have a baby,” Michel said.
Elizabeth’s eyes got huge as she handed George his glass. “You’re what?”
Lindsey came over and punched Hadrian in the shoulder. “And you’re just now telling me? That should have been the first thing you said when you walked into the room, you jerk,” she fired off at him in French.
“Well, I’m telling you now,” Hadrian said, in English, to make sure that Sydney understood as well.
Lindsey huffed and crossed her arms over her chest, looking much more like the teenaged sister he always seemed to see her as.
Elizabeth smirked at Lindsey. “Congratulate your brother. New babies are a good thing.”
“Because eventually they become walking, talking children,” George added.
Hadrian grinned. And to punctuate his point, one of the kids started squealing that her brother was cheating. George let out a sigh and stepped over to the kids to deal with the problem. The dispute took a mere second, and George was back. Lindsey poured herself a drink, her mini-pout completely forgotten.
The Reluctant Prince Page 27
