Not in love with him, perhaps. That kind of acting would be a stretch, but the rest yes. She maintained her role beautifully. She showed no stress. She seemed perfectly content as she forged ahead making plans for their marriage, liaising with all those involved in the preparations as the days slid closer to the first of the three wedding rehearsals. But beneath the surface…
Rik was not content. He couldn’t forget holding her in his arms in Paris. He, who had grown up trained to live by his self-control, had felt that night as though he teetered on the brink of losing it. He had longed, longed deep down inside, to make love to her but Melanie had broken away.
‘You behaved like some smitten, lovelorn—’ He bit the words off before he added fiancé. It was already bad enough that he was talking to the walls as he walked along. He was Melanie’s fiancé. Just not in any normal sense of the word.
Their first rehearsal was tomorrow and he did not feel prepared. Perhaps things were just moving too quickly for his comfort, for him to feel that he possessed that control that he needed to have. All would be safe in Melanie’s capable hands. Instinctively he knew this. Provided the actual marriage day went ahead, anything else would not overly matter anyway…
Rik made his way to the kitchen. The palace always had kitchen staff on call. He could have got one out of bed to make him a cup of coffee or a sandwich or to bring him pickings from the refrigerators, but he would rather forage for himself. At least it would pass some time until he managed to nod off, and Mel would be safe and sound asleep in her bed while Rik wrestled his demons.
That was part of his insomnia problem, knowing Mel was so close and he couldn’t touch her. Mustn’t touch her. He strode to the double doors of the palace kitchen and pushed with both hands. Before he even opened them, the scent of fresh baking hit him.
Why would anyone be baking at this time of night? Baking up a storm, he realised as his gaze lit on an array of cakes and cookies spread on the bench.
Something tickled the back of his mind, and was lost as he realised who was doing the cooking. ‘Mel—’
‘Rik! Oh, you startled me.’ The cake plate she held in her hands bobbled before she carefully set it down and placed a lid over it.
‘I had permission.’ Her words were almost defensive. ‘I needed some time in the kitchen. It’s what I do when I need—’ She cut the words off, waved a hand. ‘Well, never mind. I’m almost done here, anyway. All I need to do is leave the kitchen sparkling. It’s almost there now.’ Mel turned to wipe down a final bench top.
She had dark smudges under her eyes. Was Melanie, too, more disturbed than he’d realised since their trip to Paris despite her valiant efforts to support him? Was she also feeling tortured and struggling with her thoughts?
Leave the cleaning up for the staff.
Rik wanted very much to say the words. He bit them back because it seemed important to her to leave the kitchen as she had found it. Aside from those cakes and cookies.
‘The staff told me these could be used tomorrow.’ Mel gestured towards the food items. She went on to mention some need for the foods.
Rik only half heard the explanation, because he was looking at those smudges beneath her eyes.
‘I don’t suppose you’re hungry?’ She gestured towards a chocolate cake covered in sticky icing. ‘It’s probably the worst thing to do, but I thought I’d eat a piece and maybe—’
‘Relax for a while?’ He didn’t know what she’d planned to say, but to Rik, standing in the kitchen in the middle of the night unable to sleep, with Melanie obviously also unable to sleep, it made perfect sense to use his insomnia to try to at least help her to relax. ‘Why don’t we take it back with us?’
Mel hadn’t expected Rik to walk in on her cooking splurge. He was the reason for it, so maybe it would be good to spend that time with him. Perhaps then she would be able to shake off the feeling of melancholy and impending loss that had become harder and harder to bear as each day passed.
You’d better smile anyway, Mel. He doesn’t need to see your face and start wondering what your problem is.
In truth Mel didn’t know what the problem was. She’d hoped that cooking would shake the answer loose but it hadn’t.
‘I guess we can make coffee in our suite?’ It was only after she said the words that she realised she’d referred to the suite as theirs as though she had every right, as though she had as much ownership of it as Rik did.
‘I put a pot on before I left.’
His words made her realise that, while he’d caught her cooking in the middle of the night because she couldn’t sleep, he must have had similar problems otherwise he wouldn’t have been wandering the corridors and making pots of coffee when normal people would be asleep in their beds.
Mel put pieces of cake onto plates and loaded them onto a tray, which Rik promptly took from her hands. One final glance around the kitchen showed that the staff would have nothing more to deal with than delivering the goodies tomorrow morning, and Mel would try to be available to help with that.
The smell of brewed coffee met them as they stepped into the suite. It reminded Mel of Paris, of being held in his arms and kissed.
‘Did the suede skirt fit, or did you have to alter it?’ Rik’s words made Mel realise that he, too, was remembering.
Her breath hitched for a moment. She forced her thoughts away from the reaction. She’d got through day after day doing the same. Each time any unacceptable thought tried to raise its head, Mel pushed it away. Surely no one would be able to tell just how often she thought about Rik, about those moments? How she longed for them all over again? ‘The skirt fits perfectly. I’m planning to wear it tomorrow, actually.’
For the festival being held in the town. Rik hadn’t spoken of it, so Mel didn’t know what his role of involvement would be, if any. And the kitchen staff had told her that the event itself would be a low budget affair.
That didn’t mean it couldn’t be fun, though, and it was an unusual theme. Mel at least wanted to take a look. All of which was trivia, really, and yet there were times when trivia felt a little less emotionally threatening than the rest of life!
They sat side by side on the sofa eating cake and sipping coffee. A very ordinary, normal thing to do except for the fact it was after midnight, and this was Rik’s suite of rooms, and they were engaged and yet in the truest sense they really weren’t.
She blurted out, ‘The wedding planner supervised a fitting of the gown this afternoon. I won’t wear it to the first rehearsal tomorrow, of course, but…’
How did she explain what she couldn’t understand herself? Just how much that fitting had taken from her emotionally and she couldn’t say why because it was just a dress in the end, and the wedding wasn’t going to be real, and Mel knew all of this.
Mel didn’t want to think about why. ‘Well, it’s a beautiful gown. I’m amazed at how quickly it’s being created.’ She drew a breath and tried to make light of it as she went on. ‘Have you been fitted for your suit?’
‘Yesterday.’ He glanced towards her. ‘I’ve left you to handle the bulk of the work for this wedding while I attended to other things. I should have supported you better.’
She leaned towards him, shook her head. ‘You’ve been all over the country checking on the truffle harvesting, making sure the orders are going out in perfect condition. That’s so important.’
‘And that’s your generosity shining again.’ He lifted his hand to the side of her face. ‘You have a tiny dot of cake batter right there.’ His fingertip softly brushed the spot.
Mel closed her eyes. Oh, it was the stupidest thing to do but it was what his touch did to her. She melted any time they were close.
‘It’s there, isn’t it?’ The feather-light touch of lips replaced his fingertip against her cheek. He kissed the spot where her cooking efforts had made
their way onto her face, and then he sighed softly and pressed his cheek to hers. ‘All the time that need is there. I do not know why.’
That was as far as he got, because he turned his head to look into her eyes, and Mel turned her head to look into his eyes, and their lips met.
The fire ignited. Immediately and utterly and Rik’s arms closed around her and Mel threw hers around his neck and held on. She didn’t know if she could have let go if she’d wanted to. This was what had been troubling her. This was what she’d tried to think about and figure out.
Her thoughts formed that far, and then they became action. Her mouth yielded to his, opened to him even as she took from him. She sipped from his lips and ran her tongue across his teeth.
Everything was pleasure, and somehow all of those feelings seemed to have caught themselves in a place deep in her chest where they swirled and twined and warmed her all at once. Rik was the warming power. Everything about him drew her. Mel didn’t want to resist being drawn.
‘I don’t want to leave this, Mel.’ His words echoed her thoughts, and he used the diminutive of her name, and Mel loved that.
‘I don’t want to leave it, either, Rik.’
‘Do you understand what will happen?’ His words were very deep, emotive and desirous and almost stern all at once.
‘I do.’ If there was any hesitation in her words it was not because of uncertainty in that decision. ‘This—this is new for me.’
Please don’t stop because I’ve admitted that.
‘But it’s what I want, Rik. I—I have no doubts.’
‘I do not want to consider doubts, either.’ Rik’s words were strong, and yet the touch of his hand was so gentle as he stroked the side of her face, her neck. ‘I will cherish you, Melanie. I will cherish you through this experience.’
That made it right for her. It just…did. The tiny bit of fear that had been buried deep down, that she might not know what to do or how to please him, evaporated. He would guide her. Mel could give this gift and share the gift of his intimacy in return. She wanted that. She needed it, though she did not understand why that need held such strength.
Rik took her hand and led her to his bedroom. Mel managed to register that the room was similar to her own but with a more manly tone, and then Rik drew her into his arms and kissed his way from the side of
her neck to her chin and finally to her lips as their bodies pressed together and Mel didn’t notice anything more about the room.
This felt exactly right. That was what Mel thought as her hands pressed against his chest, slid up to his shoulders and she let herself touch his muscular back through the cloth of his shirt. Yet that was not enough. ‘I want—’
‘What do you want, Melanie? Tell me.’ He encouraged her to put her need into words.
And maybe he needed to hear that, too, for her to tell him.
‘I need to touch you. I need to feel your skin beneath my fingertips while you’re kissing me.’ She almost whispered it, but he heard and he guided her hand to the buttons of his shirt.
It was all the permission that Mel needed, and, though she trembled inside, her fingers slipped each button free until his chest was revealed and she could touch his bare skin. ‘You’re so warm.’
‘That is because you are in my arms.’ He shrugged out of the shirt and then he gave all of his attention to her and to this exploration that they shared moment-by-moment in giving and receiving and discovering and finding.
When he laid her on the bed, Mel looked into his eyes and though her thoughts and feelings were blurred by passion, impossible to define, every instinct told her. ‘This is what I’ve needed. I know it’s right. I want you to make love to me, Rik. Just to share this together, the two of us without thinking about anything else.’
Rik cupped her face in his palm. ‘And so it will be.’
Melanie blossomed beneath Rik’s ministrations. She was beautiful in every way, and he told her in English and French and told her in the old language of Braston, words that he had never uttered to another woman as he led her forward on this journey.
He hesitated on the brink of claiming her. ‘I am sorry that there will be pain. If you want me to stop—’
‘No.’ Mel let the word be a caress of her lips against his. A sigh inside her. A whisper of need that she gave from her heart, and that was terrifying because Mel couldn’t bring her heart to this. That was far too dangerous a thing to do. ‘Please don’t stop, Rik. I…don’t think I could bear it if you did.’
There was pain, but she held his gaze and the tenderness in his eyes, the expression that seemed akin to awe as he bent to kiss her lips again, allowed her to release that pain, to let it pass and to trust in him to lead her forward.
He did that, and then there was only pleasure and she crashed suddenly over an incredible wave and he cried out with her, the most amazing experience Mel had ever experienced, and the most powerful, knowing that she, too, had brought him to this.
Afterwards he held her cuddled against his chest as their breathing slowed. A deep lethargy crept up on Mel. She tried to fight it, to stay alert, to even begin to figure out what happened now or what she should say or do. There was so much and she didn’t know how to find understanding but she knew she didn’t regret this, could never regret it.
But what did it mean to him, Mel? What did it mean to Rik? Is there any possibility now—?
Mel could have been embarrassed, but they had shared this. How could she now feel anything that even resembled such an emotion? There was no room inside her. She was filled with other emotions, inexplicable to her right now, and overwhelming because what they had shared had been overwhelming. She shivered, wishing for his warmth, and then he was there, drawing her close.
He tucked her chin into his chest and she felt tension drain from him, too, and wondered what his thoughts might be.
‘Sleep, Melanie. You need it right now more than you know.’ He stroked his fingers through her hair.
Mel slept.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
‘IF I’D remembered this festival was on today I’d have left the country.’ Marcelo’s face pulled into a disgruntled twist.
‘Oh, I don’t know. Is it so horrible having the opportunity to flirt with lots of lovely local women?’ Anrai dug his brother in the ribs.
Marcelo didn’t crack a smile. ‘It is if they then want to marry you!’
Anrai, too, now grimaced. ‘I forgot that from last year.’
‘And the year before and year before and year before,’ Marcelo said beneath his breath. ‘You need to stop being such a flirt, Anrai. It will catch up with you one day. Anyway, we had to be here. Rik’s first wedding rehearsal is later today.’ Marcelo turned to Rik. ‘Can you believe the marriage is only a week away?’
‘No.’ Rik glanced at his brothers, heard the sibling teasing. He might even have wanted to join in, if there’d been any space left in his thoughts or emotions right now for anything other than the woman he’d held in his arms last night.
It was just one week before their marriage.
They had spent just one night in each other’s arms.
He should not have let that happen but it had and now he did not know what to do, how to go forward. So many thoughts and emotions swirled, and Rik…did not like to feel out of control, confused, uncertain of his path and yet all he could do was continue because…nothing had changed when in a way…everything had. But nothing at the core of him, nothing of how he was. Of his parents’ traits within him.
Nevertheless, Rik needed to find Melanie. The marriage was only a week away. They did have a rehearsal this afternoon and…he didn’t know if he had irreparably messed things up with Melanie.
And even now you wish you could take her again into your arms.
Rik tried to force the thoughts aside. They
were of no use to him, a line crossed that must not be crossed again. He glanced around him. He and his brothers were in Ettonbierre village, and, yes, there was a festival on today.
Rik had forgotten all about it. So had Anrai and Marcelo who’d both only arrived back at the palace late last night and had walked out with him this morning intending to meet a man to discuss tourism plans for the region.
All three brothers had plans and goals. All three relied on the success of each other to allow them to achieve those goals. The prize was recovery for a struggling country, the cost to be their freedom if Anrai and Marcelo could not also figure out ways to avoid their father’s insistence that they lock into lifetime marriages.
Rik tried to dismiss the thoughts. He looked around him. This festival was what Melanie had cooked for in the middle of the night. Just a few hours ago, and then Rik had found her in the kitchen and taken her back to his suite. She’d mentioned the wedding rehearsal. She had probably been worrying about it and that had prompted her cooking spree. And then perhaps other thoughts had pushed those worries aside for a time as they…made love.
And those thoughts had now given her new concerns? Of course they would have. They had given Rik fresh concerns, fresh questions. He had to keep her with him and keep both of them to their agreement. He hoped last night would not have undermined that goal. That was the only clear path Rik could define. Surely the only one that mattered, so why did reminding himself bring a sense of loss rather than the sense of eventual freedom it should?
Every thought brought Rik back to the same thing. He and Melanie had made love. That had changed things. He’d felt as though his world had shifted alignment and Rik couldn’t figure out why he felt that way or what it meant.
He’d woken at dawn with Melanie curled in his arms and a sense of rightness that had quickly changed when the reality of what they had done stabbed him in the chest.
The Princess Bride Page 28
