A Royal Temptation

by Charlene Sands

  “This is an amazing moment. I’m glad to be sharing it with you,” he said.

  Her smile broadened. “I feel the same way, Juan Carlos. I’m bursting inside.”

  He brought her down to earth gently, her boots gracing the sacred grounds. And his lips sought hers instantly, kissing her mouth, chin, cheeks and forehead. His hands sifted through her hair and his dark, luscious eyes bored into her. “Do you have any idea how much I love you, Portia? I do. I love you, Princess. With all my heart.”

  “Oh, Juan Carlos, I love you, too.” And there it was. Her truth. Her honest feelings poured out of her in this instant of happiness and joy. She could no longer hide away from the sensations rocking her from head to toe. The words she spoke were not damning, but blissful and joyous. She loved Juan Carlos Salazar II, King Montoro of Alma.

  “You do? You love me?” His grin spoke to her heart in a language all its own. His was the sweetest of tones, as if he was in total awe of her love.

  She nodded eagerly. “I love you.”

  He lifted her up and twirled her around once more before he set her down. His kiss this time made her dizzier than a dozen spins in his arms. His mouth claimed her, his lips demanding, his tongue penetrating through to sweep in and conquer. Her knees wobbled and she sought his sturdy shoulders for balance, her monumental declaration swaying both of them.

  “Oh, Portia, my love. I cannot think of a life without you. Marry me. Be my wife. Be with me forever.”

  The words rang in her ears. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t expected them to come, but the surprise came only in her answer. “Yes, Juan Carlos. I will marry you.”

  * * *

  The next morning, Portia woke in Juan Carlos’s arms, opening her eyes to a face she had come to love. Handsome, breathtaking and dynamic. He was a man who got things done. He’d certainly pursued her to the point of her complete compliance. How could she not fall in love with this man?

  “Good morning, fiancée,” he said, kissing the tip of her nose.

  “Hello, my love,” she said.

  They’d celebrated in this very bed well into the night. There was champagne and candles and bone-melting caresses.

  As she plopped her head against the pillow, the sheets pulled away, exposing her bare shoulders. Her eyes lifted to the ceiling, focusing on tiles that were chipping away. The farmhouse, old and neglected as it was, had undeniable charm. She sighed. “Is this real?”

  “So real,” Juan Carlos said. “Here, feel my heart.”

  He grasped her hand and placed it on his chest. Under her fingertips, life-sustaining beats pulsed through his veins. “I am real. A man who loves a woman.”

  “But you are the king of Alma.”

  “And you are the princess of Samforstand...we are meant to be, sweetheart. Can you not see how perfect this is? Fate has stepped in and brought the two of us together. I can only marry a woman of royal blood. And that’s you.” He brought her hand to his lips and tenderly kissed one finger, then another and another. “When I became king, marrying was the last thing on my mind. But then I saw you at the coronation and all bets were off.”

  “And what if I weren’t a princess? Then what would you have done?”

  “I would have...” He hesitated and sighed, bringing her up and over his body so that she straddled his thighs. He nipped at her lips and wove his fingers through her hair, eyeing the locks as if they were made of gold. “Luckily, I don’t have that burden.”

  “No, you don’t,” she said, taking his hand and placing it on her chest. The heat of his palm warmed her breast and she squeezed her hand over his. “Feel my heart.”

  His eyes filled with hunger and every cell in her body reacted to his sensual touch. “You are wicked, Princess.”

  She chuckled. “You bring it out in me.”

  “You see, we are a perfect match.”

  “Are we?” She nibbled on her lip. She’d disobeyed her hard and fast rule of not falling for a high-profile man. You couldn’t get much higher than king. Was she destined to fame through association even though it’s the last thing she wanted?

  “Let me show you again, so that you will never doubt it.”

  His hands on her hips, he gently guided her over him and they welcomed the dawn with their bodies and hearts joined as one.

  But her doubts remained, locked and hidden away, even as she agreed to marry him. Even as she claimed her love for him. Half an hour later, she was showered and dressed. She and Juan Carlos ate a quick breakfast of cereal and fruit, both anxious to get back to the cemetery site this morning. But Portia couldn’t forget her six charges. She walked into the living area with bowls of water and cat food in her hands and set them down by the fireplace hearth, where Duchess had taken up residence. “Here you go, girl.”

  Duchess no longer looked at her with frightened eyes. She had at one time been domesticated, and she was beginning to remember her life before hunger and fear had changed her. Portia kneeled and watched the cat rise, stretch her neck and shake out her limbs, and then walk over to the water. She lapped furiously as five balls of fluff scrambled to be near her, one kitten losing his balance and plopping half his body into the bowl. He jumped back, as if hit by a jolt, and gave himself a few shakes. Tiny drops of water sprinkled Portia’s clothes.

  She giggled and pressed her hand to the top of the little one’s head. Silky fur tickled her palm. “You are a feisty one.”

  Juan Carlos strode into the room. “Are you ready to go, sweetheart?”

  She stood. “Yes. I can’t wait to see what else we uncover.”

  According to Eduardo, two bulldozers and a full crew were working furiously this morning. In the middle of the night, he’d called upon and assembled a team of men he could trust with this secret. Soon, the entire country would know about the hidden artwork. What a story to tell.

  Last night, Juan Carlos had shared his hopes of putting many of these treasures on display for Alma citizens as well as tourists who would come to view the find. It would be nothing short of a boon for the country. The restoration of the artwork would instill pride and honor in a country once diminished and downtrodden by a dictator. First, though, Portia, along with a Latin art specialist, would have to verify that the pieces were not fakes.

  By the time they reached the site, half the graveyard was dug up. Dust swirled through the air from the many mounds of dirt dotting the cemetery. Ten men with shovels and axes were hoisting boxes up from the graves. Luis, with pen and pad in hand, was making an inventory list. As ordered, none of the boxes had been opened.

  Juan Carlos helped her down from the Jeep. He took her hand and they walked to where Luis stood next to a gravestone marked with the initials P.P. Tasked with documenting and photographing each headstone before the box was brought up, Luis lifted his head to greet them.

  “Your Highness, Princess,” he said. “We have twelve boxes already accounted for. As you can see, we have more to do. We’ve placed them inside the tent over there,” he said, pointing to a room-size tent set up outside the cemetery under guard by two men, “and they are ready for you to open.”

  “Thank you, Luis,” Juan Carlos said. “Your men are working faster than I thought. Now, if you’ll come with me, I’ll need you to document what we find as I open the boxes.”

  “I’ll take the photos,” Portia said.

  Luis handed over his digital camera and nodded. “Thank you, Your Highness.”

  Excitement stirred in her belly. To be a part of this find was a dream come true. How many dreams was one person allowed in a lifetime? All this joy in such a short span of time? She’d found adventure and love where she’d least expected it, in the arms of a king.

  Inside the tent, Juan Carlos opened box after box, carefully removing the pieces for documentation. Oil paintings, sculptures, bronzed statues and the famed an
cient Alma tiara had been locked away and hidden from the world for decades. Portia photographed everything, carefully making mental notes of the pieces she would research for authentication.

  They worked alongside the men, until all the pieces were uncovered and the mock cemetery was emptied out. By late afternoon, they’d unearthed twenty-two boxes in all, the grave sites now nothing but pockmarks in the earth.

  Juan Carlos climbed to the top of a pile of dirt in the center of the graveyard, his boots spread out, his voice booming to the loyal men who had labored here. As he spoke, shovels were held still, conversations died down. “The Montoro family cemetery has done its job to preserve what is sovereign to our country. You are all a part of Alma history now and I thank you for your hard work today. Until these items are authenticated, I would ask for your silence. Luis and Eduardo have assured me all of you can be trusted. The next step is to transport these pieces back to the palace in the trucks you arrived in. Again, thank you all for your diligence.”

  Juan Carlos jumped down from the dirt hill and once again, Portia was reminded of how well he fit the position of king. He was a true diplomat and leader. A man to be admired. Staunch in his beliefs and fair-minded...she was sure if the clocks were turned back in time to when Alma was last ruled by a king, he would have reigned over his people justly.

  “What are you staring at?” he asked, approaching her.

  She shook off her thoughts and smiled. “How handsome you are with dirt on your face.”

  He grinned. “I could say the same about you, Princess. The smudges on your face only make you more beautiful.” He touched her nose, right cheek and forehead.

  Goodness, she’d never considered what the hours of dust and grime had done to her fair complexion. “I must be a mess.”

  “Nothing a hot bubble bath wouldn’t cure, and I’m volunteering to scrub your back,” he whispered.

  “I’ll take you up on that, Your Highness.”

  And shortly after, they left the graveyard and returned to the farmhouse.

  They had one night left to share here. And Portia was sure, Juan Carlos would make it memorable, bubble bath and all.

  * * *

  Portia was too much in love to think about her future and how marrying Juan Carlos would affect her life and her career. She had no details to cling to, only love, and it would have to see her through the tough decisions she would have to make. Now, as she sat at a long dressed table in the palace’s elegant dining room, she gazed first at her secret fiancé seated at the helm. Dressed in a charcoal-black suit, he was beaming and full of determination. He appeared ready to make the announcement to his family. Rafe and Emily sat across from her with her friend Maria and Alex Ramon.

  Gabriel and his wife, Serafia, sat to her left, along with Bella and James. James’s little girl, Maisey, was holding tight to her chest a princess doll dressed in aqua-blue with hair the color of glistening snow.

  “It’s a lovely doll, Maisey,” Portia commented, smiling at the child.

  “She looks a lot like you, Portia,” Bella commented. “I’m just noticing the likeness.”

  Maisey’s curious eyes shifted to Portia and the girl giggled. It was true that she shared a resemblance with a famous cartoon character that all young girls seemed to love.

  Juan Carlos covered Portia’s hand, entwining their fingers. “Ah, but Portia is a one-of-a-kind princess.”

  All those close to Juan Carlos were here. He’d invited them for dinner tonight under the pretense of disclosing the facts around the graveyard find. Only he and Portia knew the truth.

  “Before the meal is served, a toast is in order,” he said. “We have much to celebrate tonight.”

  Waiters poured champagne into crystal flutes.

  Once all the bubbles settled, Juan Carlos rose. “Thank you, cousins and friends, for joining me tonight. We all have much to be thankful for. As you know, with Portia’s help, we have found the missing pieces of art at the Montoro family farm. Yes, it’s true, we dug up mock graves to unearth the treasures. The finds are yet to be authenticated, but we are fairly certain our ancestors wouldn’t have gone to such extreme measures to hide fake artwork. Portia will do the preliminary research on the items we’ve found and under her advisement we will also hire an expert to verify each piece.

  “But that is not why I’ve called you here today. I have something more personal to share with you.” He turned to Portia, offering his hand. She took it and rose, warmth traveling up her cheeks. All eyes were on her and the king.

  Juan Carlos went down on one knee, and gasps erupted from the diners at the table. She had no idea he would go traditional on her in front of his family. But how silly of her not to think it. Juan Carlos was a man of tradition and so as she gazed into his gleaming dark eyes, she began to tremble.

  “Princess Portia, you know I love you with all of my heart. I have since the moment I laid eyes on you.”

  Tears wet her eyes.

  “I have one precious thing left of my childhood and now, I am offering it to you.” He reached into his jacket pocket and came up with a diamond ring, the stone so brilliant, it caught the chandelier light and virtually illuminated the room. “This was my mother’s wedding ring,” he said, his voice tight. “And here before our family and close friends, I ask you to wear it and become my wife. Portia, Princess of Samforstand, will you marry me?”

  Not even a breath could be heard in the roomful of people.

  Her cheeks were moist with tears as she nodded. “Yes, yes. Of course I’ll marry you, Juan Carlos. I am honored to wear your mother’s ring.”

  Her hand shook as he slid the ring that once belonged to his mother onto her finger. He stared at the ring, his eyes deeply reverent, and then grinned wide, looking foolishly happy. With the pads of his thumbs, he wiped at her tears and then took her in a kiss that nearly muffled the screams of delight and applause coming from behind her.

  After the kiss, they were both swarmed with handshakes and hugs.

  She was beside herself with happiness. The love and acceptance she experienced from his family and friends was more than she’d ever expected. There were no, Are you sures? or This has happened so fasts, but rather, “Congratulations” and “You two are perfect for each other.”

  After everyone returned to their seats, Juan Carlos lifted his glass of champagne. “Please join me in welcoming my fiancée, Portia, to our family. Today, she has made me the happiest man on earth.”

  Glasses clinked and sips were taken.

  Portia’s heart swelled. All doubts about her future were laid to rest. She and Juan Carlos would work things out. They would find a way to keep each other happy and not lose their own identity. She would be his wife in all ways. She would one day bear his child, an heir to the throne of Alma.

  She locked the thought deep inside her heart and it filled her with joy.

  * * *

  “Jasmine, yes. It’s true, it’s true. I’m engaged to Juan Carlos. I wanted to tell you before news of our engagement reached the States. The king’s assistant will be speaking to the media tomorrow to share our engagement news.” Portia held the cell phone to her ear as she looked out the window of Juan Carlos’s master suite in the palace. The king’s room had a view of the gardens below, with its expertly groomed fall flowers.

  “Congratulations, Portia. Wow. It’s hard to believe. The king moves fast, doesn’t he?” Jasmine asked, a little bit in awe.

  “Yes, he does,” she said softly, focusing on a row of red carnations growing in the garden. They were hardy this time of year. “He’s quite persuasive when he wants something. That’s why he’ll be a great king and not just a figurehead. After news of our find comes out, the country will see how much Alma means to him. They’ll rally behind him, and he’ll be... Jas, forgive me, I’m rambling, aren’t I?”

  �
�Oh, my gosh, Portia. I hear it in your voice. You’re really in love, aren’t you?”

  “He’s amazing, Jas. And I resisted him as long as I could, but Juan Carlos...well, when you meet him, you’ll see what I mean.”

  “I’m going to meet him?” She pictured her friend’s eyes snapping to attention.

  “Of course, silly. At the wedding. Jasmine, I want you by my side. I know it’s a lot to ask, since the wedding will be held in Alma, but I’d be thrilled if you’d be my maid of honor.”

  “Portia...this is... Of course I’ll be your maid of honor! I wish you could see me jumping up and down right now.”

  She chuckled. “I’ve got the image in my head. Just be careful. The last time you jumped for joy, you crashed into my dining table and nearly broke your leg.”

  “Okay, I’ve stopped jumping now,” she said, out of breath. “This is all so very exciting.”

  “I can hardly believe it myself. Juan Carlos wants to be married, like, yesterday, so I think it’s going to happen as soon as we can put all the pieces together.”

  “Count on me to help.”

  “Thank you. I was hoping you’d say that and I’m glad you’re going to be in my wedding. Right now, I’m working on an art authentication project that will take me until the end of the week to finish. I should be home in three days. Then it’ll be full steam ahead with wedding plans.”

  “I can’t wait to see you. I have a million questions for you.”

  “And I don’t have a million answers. But it’ll work out,” Portia said, taking a deep breath. “It has to. Have to run now. Love you, Jas.”

  “Love you, too,” her assistant said, and then hung up.

  “What don’t you have a million answers to?” Juan Carlos was suddenly beside Portia at the window. His arms around her waist, he took the cell phone from her hand and turned her to face him. She looked into curious, warm dark eyes.

  “All of this?” she said. She couldn’t lie. The roller coaster was going fast and she was holding on for dear life. “I don’t know how this will all work out. I have a career, a life and a job on both US coasts. As it is, I’m not home much.”