“Hi.”
“Shhh. Go back to sleep, baby.”
“In a minute. First…”
She crawled on top of him, spread her legs, wiggled her hips, and took him inside her. She purred with pleasure. “Better.”
Peter cursed and hung onto his control with everything he had. “Rachel, I need to put a condom on, honey.” He settled his hands on her hips, as he prepared to lift her off.
“Mmm. Not good enough. ’Kay.”
“What do you mean, ‘Not good enough?’”
“Mmm?”
He lifted her off him, laying her gently onto her back. Rising above her, he looked into her eyes. She blinked owlishly, and he saw the moment she came fully awake.
“What did you mean, not good enough?” he repeated the question and wondered at the embarrassment that flooded her face. When she turned her head to look away, he used one finger on her chin to bring her focus back, front and center, to him. “Rachel?”
“I’m just being silly. Ignore me. I know I’m not fit to be a mother. I’ve made too many mistakes. So I don’t blame you for wanting to make sure—”
Pure male instinct pushed aside all intellectual considerations. His look never left hers as he thrust his hard cock into her again. He fucked her in a slow, steady rhythm. Her eyes widened, her surprise evident for one moment. Then she wrapped her legs around him and began to move her hips in counterpoint to his. He felt the surge of moisture in her pussy, and he shivered in delight as she worked her muscles in a steady, milking motion.
“I’m going to come inside you, sweetheart. I’m going to flood your womb with my seed, and I’m going to hope like hell you do get pregnant.”
“Yes, please. Your cock feels so good inside me, mon cher. Come inside me.”
When she stretched up and gave him her mouth, he plundered her there as completely as below. And when he felt her spasm around him, when his cock began to pulse inside her, he held her closer and knew in his heart that he didn’t care if this was entrapment. In that moment, he knew he’d do whatever it took to keep her safe, to keep her happy, and just to keep her.
Chapter 15
Alex was running out of time.
Only a week and a day remained until Philip and Catharine’s wedding. Hannah planned to go home the day after, on the same return flight to Canada as her eldest son and his family, who would arrive on Sunday.
This next week featured several official festivities in celebration of the royal wedding. The times when he and Hannah would be alone were dwindling to just bedtime. And this wasn’t a conversation he wanted to have in bed.
At every event and at every turn since he’d met her, Hannah had shown herself to be not only his perfect mate, but a nurturing, maternal woman, and a woman of grace and poise. Her instincts with his children had been flawless. He’d seen the envy on the faces of his daughters as they’d watched the interaction between Hannah and Catharine. So had she, obviously, for it hadn’t taken her long to take them both under her wing. She exercised with Sophie each morning, and had gone to the Children’s Home twice. She’d spent time with Rachel discussing fashion trends and had even lent a hand with the fitting of the gowns for the wedding. The dinner last Sunday night had been a rousing success. There would be many more family picnics around the pool, and he would encourage her to arrange private family times indoors as well.
In short, whether she realized it or not, Hannah had slid seamlessly into his life, all aspects of it. He could see no reason not to make her presence in it official.
She smiled at him when he entered the music room. She’d been sitting with Helene, listening while his daughter-in-law outlined where guests arriving for the wedding would stay, and the few special evenings of entertainment to be provided.
Alex returned her smile and sent a wink to Helene. His son’s wife had always been quite capable of performing her duties as the chatelaine of the palace, but included Hannah because, being an insightful young woman, she understood his intentions toward her.
“Well, this is a surprise,” Hannah said, getting to her feet as she always managed to do if he entered a room and she wasn’t alone. He would soon see that annoying show of protocol ended.
“I decided to play hooky.” He beamed at Hannah. “That is an expression my soon-to-be-grandson explained to me. I didn’t tell him I liked the sound of the word.”
“Did he tell you the punishment for playing hooky?”
“Oh, he assured me that he would never, ever do such a thing as to avoid attending his classes. However, he quite gleefully recounted the adventures of one of his mates, who had indulged and then been caught.”
“Tommy Pierce. The incident is famous. Or rather, infamous.”
“Well, since I am king, I cannot suffer any undue consequences for leaving my desk. I looked out at the roses, and I thought it would be a perfect day for a walk in the garden. Join me?”
The day felt warm, but not too hot, and the air in the garden seemed unusually fresh and fragrant. Alex took this as a good sign. He’d never done anything like this before. He’d met Liana for the first time after the arrangements had been made and the contract for marriage had been signed. He’d been nervous, of course, on his wedding night. Those nerves didn’t compare, however, to the ferocious battle of jitters going on inside him now. When he reached for Hannah’s hand, she gave it. When their fingers twined, he felt steadier.
He believed he wasn’t the only one who knew they belonged together.
“This is so beautiful,” Hannah murmured after they sat on one of the benches placed along the path. “So many different colors of roses, and the mix of green plants and other flowers. And you can hear the gentle rhythm of the surf below. I think this is the most relaxing spot I’ve ever known.”
Alex nodded, then softly cleared his throat. “The days have been speeding by so quickly since you came to my home, Hannah.”
“I know. It doesn’t seem fair that there’s only a handful of days left for us to be together.”
The sadness that drenched her tone lifted Alex’s heart. Surely, she felt like he did, and wouldn’t want to be parted from him any more that he wanted to be parted from her. Bringing her hand to his lips, he kissed it.
“It doesn’t have to be that way, Hannah. You can stay here. I want you to stay here with me, as my wife.”
* * * *
Peter left the surveillance van and headed toward the storefront. His tactic these last few days, making it appear as if Rachel was left alone and unprotected, had been worth a shot. But so far, this particular fishing expedition had failed to catch anything.
And if he had to listen to the chatter of those two twits Rachel had hired for one minute more, he’d shoot himself.
He’d been there when she’d interviewed the two of them, and a half dozen other candidates. On personality alone, Peter thought, he’d have made different choices. The fact that he understood why Rachel had picked the two she had didn’t make them any less annoying. Simone Balieur was an always cheerful, somewhat rotund little elf-like woman in her early twenties. She’d worked as a seamstress for Rosemarie for three years, being the sole support of her mother and younger sister. Rachel attested to the excellence of her sewing, which constituted, she teased him, the only thing that really mattered.
Dagmar Ortega appeared as emaciated as Simone was plump. White, white skin with short black spiky hair, the girl gave Peter the willies. A cousin to Maria Verdue, a member of the Royal household staff for more than ten years, she’d studied and become an accomplished seamstress. Both women had, of course, passed Peter’s security check. He frowned when he wondered if he had gone so far downhill that he’d become jealous of anyone else taking up Rachel’s time, even women who likely had no social lives.
Opening the door to the shop, he nodded to Sophie and Catharine, clustered around Rachel’s desk with Rachel and her two assistants, merrily chatting away. Knowing they would be leaving shortly had spurred him to vacate the van and come
to Rachel. He needed a break and knew just what he wanted.
“These gowns are the most excellent designs I’ve ever encountered, Your Highness.”
Rachel flushed a bit at the praise. “Thank you, Dagmar. And thanks for your help with fitting mine.”
“Oh, it was an extraordinary honor, I can assure you. I would be extremely happy to put in extra time working on them, if you’d like.”
“If you’d like to come in a half hour earlier tomorrow, that would be wonderful. You too, of course, Simone.”
Peter had to school himself not to wince when Simone giggled, her standard response to almost any situation. Still, her hands worked, quick and efficient as she helped Dagmar gently collect the gowns and carry them through the swinging door into the workroom at the back of the shop.
“Hey, brother mine, have you come to have a gown designed?”
Peter stuck his tongue out at his sister, eliciting even more giggles from Simone. “No, I’ve come to capture the designer and carry her away for a few hours.”
The playful glint didn’t disguise the heat in Rachel’s eyes as she met his gaze. “Oh, that sounds interesting.”
“Well, I must now return to my desk,” Sophie said, giving her sister, and then Catharine, a hug. “And since I have already had a break, I think it is a very good idea that my sister has one, also.”
“I’m out of here, too,” Catharine said. “See you guys at dinner tonight. Or not.”
Peter walked over to the door and watched as two members of his team stepped away from their waiting cars. He didn’t return to Rachel until both the princess and soon-to-be princess had been escorted, seated safely in the vehicles, and driven away.
After closing the door, he turned to Rachel and shot her a sheepish grin. “I guess I should have asked you first,” Peter said, checking his watch, “as it’s just after noon hour.”
“It is. But I’ve been working since six this morning with not much of a break. I’m a bit tired to finish the work on the dresses now. It would be better for me to start fresh tomorrow. What did you have in mind?”
“It’s been a long time since I’ve gone horseback riding,” he said, lowering his voice slightly. “I thought perhaps we’d head out to the farm. I checked. No one else is using it today.”
“That sounds good. Just let me talk to the girls. They each have a key and can lock up. They’ve both been putting in a lot of time on some of the new designs I want to showcase for my spring collection.”
“It’s only August.”
“Yes, and the spring fashion shows start very soon.”
Peter shook his head. He supposed he didn’t need to understand the ins and outs of the fashion industry.
Within a few minutes, the city was behind them.
“Did I hear you give your staff the rest of the day off?”
“Well, it seemed only fair. Since the boss is taking the rest of the day off.”
“Boy, do you have a lot to learn about corporate behavior.” He couldn’t resist teasing her. He was sinking fast, and he knew it. He hated being away from her and sometimes found himself manufacturing excuses to be alone with her.
He’d called ahead. Not only did the gate open promptly upon their approach, but also two horses had been saddled and awaited them in the paddock by the house.
“You were very sure of yourself,” Rachel said tartly when she spotted the beasts.
“No, I had great hope. Let’s ride.”
* * * *
His constant presence, and that one night last week when he’d made love to her without protection, gave her hope. While the latter had not been repeated, and he hadn’t said the words, Rachel sensed Peter loved her—and that he was as unsure of their relationship as she was.
She’d really not meant to let her darkest fears slip. But he’d awakened her when she’d been dreaming about him, about his rejecting her. The moment had been one she’d never forget, and she’d hoped he’d say something the next day about what had passed between them in the night.
But he’d said nothing, and she had no idea where they would go from here. She had her fingers crossed that she was pregnant. Then, at least, she would feel justified in confronting him. There seemed a hesitation in him, and if it wasn’t because of her past—his impassioned actions had pretty much assured her of that—then she didn’t know what it could be about.
In the meantime, she would take every moment with him she could.
Mounting Lady Fair, the gray mare she most often rode, Rachel looked over at Peter.
“Thank you for suggesting this. I haven’t ridden in too long myself.”
“Well, not a horse, anyway.”
His cheeky comment, accompanied by a mock leer, made her laugh. “True. I used to be as horse-mad as our Jamie. Hard to imagine now that I let weeks go past without riding.”
“I learned to ride in England, and I loved it from that first time. When I came here, I considered this ranch and access to it to be one of my biggest perks.”
Content to let Peter lead the way, Rachel followed and they made their way along one of the many trails that wound through the forest. The parcel of land, which had been in her family for generations, extended for acres. It was a pastoral combination of forest, meadows, and streams. After a half hour, they emerged into the sunlight and a large, grassy meadow. An old maple tree at the far side of the open expanse had always been a favorite stopping place. Beyond its trunk, a clear mountain stream meandered. The land on the other side of the river had been turned into a public park a decade before. Rachel never passed up an opportunity to stop and take a drink here. The water was cold enough to make her teeth tingle, but she had never tasted anything better.
“Race you,” she taunted and kicked her horse into a gallop toward the sparkling ribbon of water.
“I’ll leave you in the dust!”
She laughed at his macho claim, not at all surprised that he’d anticipated her challenge. Although she sat low and forward and thought she might win, in the blink of an eye, Peter’s black gelding edged ahead of her.
Then the peace of the afternoon shattered with the explosion of gunfire.
* * * *
“I can’t marry you.” Hannah regretted the tone, but not the words. The look of hurt that flashed across Alex’s face felt like a stab to her own heart.
“Of course you can. Hannah, I love you.”
“I love you, too. But I can’t marry you.”
“If you love me, I do not see the problem.”
“You wouldn’t.” Unable to sit still a moment longer, she surged to her feet. How could she make him see? How could she make him understand?
“You’re a king, Alex. The demands on you, on your time, are huge. You need and deserve a wife who can match you in energy and dedication, someone schooled in all the protocol and the politics, the perfect corporate wife. That’s not me.”
“Hannah, I don’t care about protocol or politics. I don’t care if you take on any official duties as my queen, or not. I only care about having you here, with me, always. You can be any kind of wife you want to be, as long as you are mine.”
Hannah had trouble breathing. “I’m a simple woman, and I’ve led a simple life. My God, I never even went to college! The other night when I stood before that mirror and looked at myself, all dressed up for the ball, I knew I was looking at a woman who was playing make-believe. That wasn’t me. Hell, if I hadn’t won that vacation, we’d never have met, because coming to a place like this was so far off the radar for me.
“I’m hot dogs and hamburgers on a summer night. I’m dollar-store bargains and off-the-rack dresses at the department store. I’m Saturday morning ball games with the grandkids and Sunday morning newspapers in bed.
“But I’m not queen material, Alex. I’m just not.”
More than the hurt, the pity Hannah saw reflected in his eyes nearly undid her. She began to shake and couldn’t stop. Tears tracked down her face, and she couldn’t stop them either.
Why hadn’t she seen this coming? But more, why couldn’t she simply grasp the happiness that he was offering her? Why couldn’t she just say the hell with it, accept his proposal, and not worry about assuming the role of queen?
“Oh, Hannah.” He put his hands on her shoulders and then rubbed her arms gently. His kindness was destroying her.
“You don’t have to be afraid. All you have to do is trust me.”
Before she could answer him, the sudden tension on his face as he looked over her shoulder made her turn around slowly. The cold, controlled expression on Michael’s face scared her. Even before he spoke, she knew something terrible had happened.
“Father, Hannah. There’s been an incident at the farm.”
Chapter 16
The blast had stopped time.
Rachel could have sworn it did, that even the breeze hung suspended, the leaves of the giant maple frozen in mid-flutter. And then everything happened at once. She watched, horrified as Peter fell from his horse, and her own mare spooked and reeled around on its hind legs, spilling her to the ground at the same time a second shot rang out and her horse screamed. All she could think about was scrabbling across the grass toward Peter’s fallen form, reaching out to touch him, pull him close—and the glistening, warm blood that drenched her fingers.
Pacing the emergency room waiting area, she tried to reconstruct the frantic half hour that followed in her head. She remembered the terror of turning an unconscious Peter over, the horror of blood oozing from high on his left shoulder. Somehow, she’d collected herself enough to whip off her shirt, bunch it into a ball, and press it hard over his wound. She’d fumbled in his pocket for his cell phone, praying the fall hadn’t broken it. A cold calm descended over her then, and one handed, she’d carefully punched in the numbers that would summon help.
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