The Prince’s Passion: A Fake Engagement Royalty Romance

by Styles, Peter

  “Like now?”

  “Patience, Amand. You royal types are so demanding. I haven’t finished your massage.”

  As he continued to rub my shoulders and the taut muscles on either side of my spine, he slowly pumped his hips, his cock moving back and forth on my ass. “If you keep that up, I’m going to come all over your sheets.”

  “Ooh. We can’t have that, not when I’m planning on lying on my back while you spread my ass and push in nice and slow.”

  “Daniel,” I ground out. “The visual images you’re creating are not cooling me off.”

  He licked his way up my spine again. “Precisely.”

  In one quick move, I had put him on his back and stretched out on top of him. It was my turn to rub our cocks together. He had closed his eyes, a smile curving his sweet mouth.

  “Are you truly okay with all of this?” I asked quietly.

  His blue, blue eyes popped open. His smile widened. “I love you.”

  My heart felt as though it would pound right out of my body. I hadn’t realized how much his not having admitted his love for me preyed on my mind, reminding too much of the lopsided relationship that had pushed me away from my music.

  “I want to tell you about what happened, why I gave up my cello.”

  Daniel put his fingers against my lips. “It doesn’t matter. It brought you to me now. This is where we begin.”

  I covered his mouth and kissed him deeply.

  “Make love to me, Amand,” he whispered against my lips. He was right. This was different this time. We had fucked before, so excited to finally be together. Now we would make love. I prepped him carefully before putting on another condom.

  Daniel raised his knees toward his chest, opening himself to me. As I pushed into him, our gazes held and emotion clogged my throat. So different, as it needed to be. This was Daniel, the man I loved, the man I would make my husband.

  As if sensing my emotions, he rested his hand on my knee and gently squeezed. I bit my lower lip and blinked. “I cannot wait for you to become a part of Calonia in every way. I love you so much, Daniel.”

  And I proceeded to show him.

  19

  Daniel

  I had an invitation to a family dinner with Cousin Georg and as many of the Petrovny relatives as he could get together. I definitely wanted to be there and gladly accepted…as long as I could bring my date.

  Now I was about to knock on the door of the lion’s den to see if my date would actually go with me.

  “Come!”

  I was really going to have to get Amand to work on that bark. While I had learned it was much worse than his bite, I’m sure he didn’t realize how intimidating it was to everyone else.

  I stuck my head around the door and smiled.

  “Is it safe? Or should I go back out until my fiancé, Amand, shows up?”

  He rolled his eyes as he got to his feet. I entered the room and shut the door while he strode over to me.

  “You know,” he said, kissing me on the cheek, “I can be both the Prince and the fiancé.”

  I tapped my cheek. “Well you are multi-talented and fairly intelligent.” He snorted before I continued, “So I suppose you could manage both.”

  He took my hand and led me over to the couch, his brow a bit furrowed as it had been when I entered. “What brings you here? I thought you would be hard at work on your book.”

  I narrowed my gaze. “You look tense, Amand. What’s going on?”

  He took a deep breath. “I think we are getting closer to figuring out all the players behind the blackmailing of Ricard and your attempted kidnapping.”

  “That should make you happy.”

  His gaze met mine, dark with worry. “In a sense, it does. I wish that I could share more with you right now, but until we have everything in order, I can’t reveal who our main suspect is.”

  “Sit forward. I’ll give you a shoulder rub to ease some of your tension.”

  He laughed. “I would say that is your solution to everything, but I’m afraid you would take offense and stop giving them to me.”

  I kneeled behind him and slowly began to knead the tension in his shoulders. “That will never happen.”

  We were silent for a short period of time before Amand said, “I need you to promise me something, my love.”

  My hands stilled. “What, Amand?”

  “Please be careful. I can’t help but feeling that the threat to you is not gone.”

  I leaned in and rested my cheek against the top of his dark hair. “I will. I have something to ask you.”

  “What is that?”

  “Would you go out to dinner with me…my treat?”

  He half twisted to try to catch my expression, and laughed. “Come around where I can see you. You ask me out on a date while you’re crouched behind me where I can’t see if you are joking.”

  I jumped off the couch and sat on the coffee table in front of it. Amand arched a brow, and I grinned. “I know, I know. The table is probably an antique worth thousands of dollars that will collapse under my weight.”

  “Not at all. I think it will hold up admirably. I just don’t understand this American penchant for turning every flat surface into a chair.”

  “Whatever.” I wiggled around to get a bit more comfortable, laughing as I did so. “So, will you go out with me?”

  The look of longing that warred with his usual reserve captivated me. After a moment, he responded, “I would like that. How should I dress for dinner?”

  “Nice…but casual. Try to be incognito. You know, look normal.”

  Amand gestured toward his pale gray suit, white shirt and pale pink tie. “This is normal.”

  I shook my head. “You look like a rich, royal prince.”

  “That’s what I am.”

  “Tonight you need to be more like me.”

  “I should get my clothes off the floor of my closet?”

  I smacked my hand against my heart. “You wound me. Tell you what, after I get dressed, I will come to your quarters to help you pick the right ensemble.”

  Amand rolled his eyes. “I live in fear.”

  I stood and started for the door. “You will be amazed by your coming makeover.”

  “Horrified is more like it.”

  “I heard that. I’ll see you at five.”

  As soon as I shut the door behind me, I leaned back against it with a smile. He had agreed to come with me. He hadn’t even insisted on knowing where we were going. I called Georg to let him know I would definitely be bringing a date, then whistled my way back to my suite so I could continue working on my writing.

  Promptly at five, I knocked on Amand’s door. Instead of the usual verbal response to ‘come,’ he opened the door himself and yanked me inside.

  “I approve of the underwear,” I murmured, eyeing his incredible body and wondering if we had enough time for a quick fuck, but discarding that when I looked at Amand’s worried expression.

  He gestured to my khakis, boots, and oxford cloth shirt. “This is nice casual?”

  I frowned as I looked at my attire. “I tucked my shirt in and wore a belt.”

  “Come with me.” He dragged me over to a walk-in closet that was bigger than some apartments I had lived in.

  “Is this where you store the bodies?”

  “What? There are no bodies in here, just my clothing.”

  “Amand, this is as big as a lot of apartments in New York.” I began walking along the racks of clothing. Perfectly tailored suits, arranged by color and weight of material, followed by shirts and ties, racks of shoes, and finally toward the back were more casual slacks. I pulled out a pair of black cargo pants.

  “What about these?”

  “That’s part of a military uniform.”

  “Okay, maybe not. Not really the vibe I’m going for here.” I didn’t see a single pair of plain old cotton blend khaki pants, so I settled on a pair of slate gray linen. “These. Pastel-colored dress shirt. Find some shoe
s that don’t shine.”

  Amand looked as though he was floundering in unfamiliar waters.

  “Trust me here.”

  As he was tucking in his shirt and adding a belt, he said, “Do you want to take the limo or my car?”

  “Neither one. And while we’re at it, all your security dudes need to stay out of sight.”

  His head whipped up so fast I was afraid he would hurt himself. “I’m not sure…”

  “One evening, Amand. Try it my way. We’ll hitchhike or take a bus or cab.”

  Common sense warred with his desire to please me. Damn, that was sweet—that this man would step so far out of his comfort zone to make me happy. Finally he shrugged.

  “Why not? It is one night.”

  After taking a cab into the city, we walked through old town and caught a bus headed in the direction of my cousin’s house. It dropped us at the end of the block, so we had a quiet walk along the quiet, tree-lined streets. The houses were modest compared to the palace, but still nice.

  “Here we are,” I announced as I found the correct house number.

  Amand looked at the stucco and stone house. “This is a restaurant?”

  “This is Cousin Georg’s place. The whole family’s going to be here.”

  Before he could respond, the door opened to reveal Georg. His gaze widened in surprise as he saw my date, and he laughed.

  “You might have mentioned your date is Prince Amand, but I should have expected it too. The news of your engagement has been in the newspaper, and you did say you were bringing a date.” He stepped back and extended his arm, gesturing along the hallway behind him. “Please. Welcome to our home. Everyone is gathered outside in the garden.”

  I had expected Georg’s immediate family, but when we stepped into the colorful, walled garden, two long tables had been set up, and people were already gathering, piling the middles of each table with food they had brought with them.

  Georg whistled. Everyone stopped what they were doing and looked our way. I felt terribly conspicuous and a bit shy. What if they didn’t like me? Amand put his hand on my shoulder, as if he somehow knew I needed some reassurance.

  Georg spoke in Calonian, which I was able to follow pretty well by now, even if I still struggled somewhat to speak it.

  “If I may have everyone’s attention. Please let me introduce our American cousin, Daniel Leifsson—Annalisa and Vasile’s grandson—and his fiancé, His Royal Highness, Prince Amand.”

  For a split second, there was silence as they absorbed Amand’s presence, and then everyone was laughing and speaking, moving forward to shake our hands and exchange hugs and kisses. I was overwhelmed with the acceptance and struggling to keep up with the conversation.

  “Just smile and nod,” Amand whispered in my ear. “They are all telling you how happy they are to meet you and how pleased they are we could be here.”

  It felt odd to be the center of attention, but Amand’s presence helped. After all, it wasn’t every day that a royal prince dropped in for dinner. In a few minutes, a group of older women had dragged Amand over to where they were gathered beneath a large oak. He was smiling and laughing as he conversed with them. I had never seen him so relaxed, not even with his own family.

  A couple of giggling teenage girls cornered me to practice the English they were learning in school.

  “Are you truly going to marry the Prince?” one of them asked, her eyes wide.

  “I am.”

  “It is like a fairytale,” the other one said. “Will you be a prince then too?”

  I blinked in surprise. I hadn’t given it much thought. “I don’t know.”

  “I think he will be,” the dark-haired one said. “Prince Constantin’s wife is called Princess Stephani, and she was not a princess before they married.”

  “Prince Daniel,” the other said and giggled.

  An arm encircled my waist. “It has a nice sound to it, does it not?”

  I glanced sideways to find Amand staring at me, a smile on his lips and heat in his eyes.

  The two girls curtsied, giggling again.

  “You are both very handsome.” Again, the dark-haired girl spoke, but dropped her gaze shyly.

  “Thank you,” Amand responded with a slight bow to them. “If you will excuse us, I believe dinner is about to begin, and we have been given seats of honor. “Daniel?”

  He kept his hand at the small of my back and guided me toward the head of one of the tables. Ever courteous, he pulled my chair out for me, grinning as I arched my brow before taking my seat.

  “You will pay for that later,” I told him.

  He laughed. “I look forward to it. Perhaps I am in need of a firm hand. What do you think?”

  The image that sprang to mind was enough to make my eyes widen. This teasing, relaxed man was someone I had scarcely seen before.

  As we ate, several toasts were proposed. The wine flowed freely along with stories that Amand helped translate for me. As the sun set, candles and lanterns were lit. Several strings of fairy lights added a magical glow to the entire backyard.

  As some of the youngsters began clearing plates, Georg stood and clapped his hands. “My wife and some of the other ladies have baked a delicious honey and rosewater cake for our cousin and his fiancé, the Prince.”

  Amand and I were laughingly urged forward so that we could cut the treat. The cake was shared with everyone along with small glasses of mead for another toast to the two of us. As I touched my glass to his, it began to sink in. I was going to marry this man. As soon as I had finished my thimble full of the honeyed liquor, Amand leaned over and kissed me quickly on the lips.

  “Mm. Delicious,” he proclaimed.

  As the dinner began to wind down, I was beginning to wonder if we should take our leave when someone at the far end of the table broke out a violin and began to play. The music reminded me of Brahms’ Hungarian Dances. Sure enough, people began moving one of the tables back to make room for dancing.

  I glanced at Amand to find him intent on the music, his eyes nearly closed as his head moved in time with what was being played. I took his hand in mine and held on.

  “This music moves you,” I commented quietly.

  He looked at me with a smile in his eyes. “All of it moves me. I have missed it.”

  “Then I’m glad you are playing again. Do you want to dance?”

  He glanced at the circle of men forming around the women.

  “Why not? We should have fun this evening.”

  For the next half hour, we laughed and danced. Some of the songs were for traditional dances that everyone patiently taught me the steps to. As the dancing began to wind down, the violinist tilted his head as he gazed at Amand.

  “Did you not once play the cello, Your Highness?”

  Amand inclined his head in acknowledgement.

  “There is a cello inside. I would be honored if you would play for us this evening.”

  Amand stiffened. He was going to refuse. I could feel it in every taut line of him. As I watched, his gaze roamed over the hopeful faces gathered before us. He sucked in a deep breath.

  “It would be my very great pleasure.”

  In short order, a chair had been produced and a young man stepped forward to hand Amand the cello. It was by no means the same quality as the one he had at the palace, but Amand treated it as if it were priceless. Once seated, he asked the violinist for a note and proceeded to tune the cello accordingly.

  Everyone gathered in the walled garden found a seat. There was a whispered conversation between Amand and the violinist before they launched into a piece I recognized as Vivaldi. As he continued to play, Amand became more and more lost in the music he was producing.

  By the third piece of music, he was on his own. The real surprise was that the classical technique, the only one I had heard from him so far, gave way to jazz. As he had suggested the evening of the concert, I had checked out some of the jazz cellists out there. Hearing Amand now, I realized how
constrained he had been in his playing.

  While he plucked and strummed the instrument in his hands, his hair fell across his forehead, but failed to hide the glow in his eyes and the smile on his lips. I had never seen anyone look more beautiful. I wondered if my new-found family realized what a special treat they were getting.

  He finished, stood, and bowed to them. “Thank you so much for the opportunity to play for you,” he told them graciously.

  They clapped and called out bravos to him. Now that the adrenaline from playing was fading, his fatigue was obvious. We made our goodbyes amid assurances that we would return again, and then we were walking along the quiet street.

  He put his arm around my shoulders. “I love your idea of taking me out to dinner. Thank you for including me in your family, Daniel. It means a lot to me.”

  “It meant a lot to them too. You were wonderful.”

  “Not the stuck up aristocrat you feared I would be?”

  I bumped my hip against him, knocking him slightly off stride. “I never thought you would be stuck up—stuffy, maybe, but not stuck up.”

  “Stuffy?”

  “You know. I wasn’t sure you would be able to shed the demeanor along with the suit.”

  “So you think I’m boring?”

  I thought about the way he took command in the bedroom. “Hm. Definitely not boring when we’re together, but you are way too serious most of the time. Except tonight. This evening, I got to see a side of you I would enjoy seeing a lot more often. You were charming and playful.”

  “Yes?”

  “And the way you played that cello was downright passionate.”

  He stopped in the shadows of one of the enormous trees overhanging the quiet street and turned me into his arms for a kiss that promised amazing things to come. When we finally separated, he murmured, “Let’s get back to the palace.”

  I was in full agreement with that. As soon as we reached a busier street, I hailed a cab. I had considered trying to hitch a ride back, but I was now in a hurry, my throbbing cock reminding me of the wondrously talented fingers of my princely musician lover.

  When we reached the palace, Amand dragged me out. As we passed the footman, he barked, “Pay the driver.”