Catharine & Edward

by Marianne Knightly

  “But you don’t know if you would have killed him?”

  He took a deep breath, and exhaled slow and long. “No. No, I don’t. But I wanted to.”

  “Did you feel peace afterwards, knowing he was dead?”

  “I did. I also felt sick to my stomach, if that makes you feel better. To take a life, any life, is not easy. Yet, I also felt peace. The threat against my family had been neutralized, and they were safe; that was all that mattered to me.”

  “I still don’t understand your nickname. Doesn’t it remind you of what happened?”

  “It does, but that’s the point. It keeps me in check. I killed a man to protect my family. I killed another to save my life, though I might have taken his anyway. It marks you, scars you more than you’d ever think possible.”

  He rubbed a hand over a scar on his cheek. “I deserve to be reminded of my failings, of the man I was, so I’ll never be that man again. I’ll still do what it takes to protect my family and do my job. Since my mother’s killer, I’ve only killed in the line of duty, but I don’t ever want to be the man I once was again. I don’t want a life of revenge and anger. Bash is a simple way for me to remember that.”

  Cat pursed her lips, taking it all in. She couldn’t imagine what he’d gone through, what he still went through every day. “Do Marcello and the RPS know about this?”

  “He knows. I was honest about it when I applied. I half wondered if they’d arrest me for it, but they didn’t. I never lied and I told the truth to those who asked.

  “I’ve got my family now,” he said, gesturing with their joined hands towards the direction of the main house. “I would never do anything to hurt my girls.”

  Cat knew that was true; she’d seen firsthand the love he had for the women in his life.

  “Are you afraid of me now, My Lady?”

  His thumb drew circles on the back of her hand, and she felt comforted despite herself.

  She took a deep breath. “You know that people have tried to harm the royals before, even other people in our family.”

  “Yes.”

  “I’ve been afraid. Afraid that one day my father will leave for work and never come home, except in a casket. Afraid that one day my twin brother – who I’m connected with, whether or not I like it – will face the same fate and, if he does, something inside of me will die in the process, because of our connection. Afraid that the next time I see my friends and almost sisters-in-law, I’ll find their dead eyes staring back at me. I don’t know how to stop worrying or being afraid. My mother doesn’t, either; I asked her about it once.”

  “Catharine.”

  “Maybe I was in denial, but I never worried about myself like that. I couldn’t let myself think that every moment could be my last because someone hated me, and for no other reason than the family I was born to, something I had no choice over. Now, I’m faced with my fate for the first real time in my life, and I’m not quite sure what to do about it. I hide it under my impeccable dress sense, but the fear is there.

  “I’ve been afraid – I am afraid, no sense in denying it now – of pursuing my dreams, because a princess doesn’t get to dream, though everyone dreams of being a princess.

  “I wanted to design clothing, build my own fashion brand, do things the way I wanted to do them. Now, when someone’s threatened my life, I see it was a foolish fear and a regret I can’t take back.

  “So, to answer your question, no. I may be afraid right now, but I’m not afraid of you. I’m afraid of something happening to you, of you being injured in the line of duty. I know, without a shadow of a doubt, that you’d never hurt me. Maybe some would call me foolish or misguided.”

  “I wouldn’t. I’d call you exceptional.” He cupped her face, his thumbs brushing her cheeks, his eyes a pair of molten brown pools. “I’ll protect you, My Lady, until my last dying breath.”

  “I know you will,” she whispered into the quiet night. “It’s your job.”

  “No, My Lady. I will because you’re mine, and it is my right.”

  “Edward.”

  “Do you accept my past? Accept the man that I was, and the man that I have become?”

  “Yes,” she breathed.

  “Do you accept that I will keep you safe? That I would do everything in my power to keep you from worry or fear?”

  “Yes. God, yes.”

  “Then you’re mine. My Lady.” His lips slanted over hers for a brutal kiss and she moaned in both pleasure of his lips and in relief to finally feel them against hers.

  He wrenched suddenly away, and pulled her to her feet. “Not here,” he growled.

  Still dazed, she stumbled as he led her quickly through the vines, stopped abruptly, and yanked her to his chest once more. His hands delved into her hair, fisting fiercely, while his lips took more.

  Yearning for breath, she pulled away. “Eddie,” her voice staggered out.

  His body stilled for a long moment, and she wondered if she’d said something wrong, reminded him of something painful.

  He pulled her tight into his arms, and buried his face in her neck. His rough, staggered breaths were hot against her skin, but each one filled her.

  He needed her. In that moment, he needed her.

  Though many had wanted her, no one had ever needed her.

  It was a miraculous feeling.

  “No one’s called me Eddie for a very long time,” he said in a soft voice. “I’d forgotten how much I like it.”

  “I didn’t mean to; it just came out. I’m sorry if it upset you.”

  “It didn’t.” He pulled his head back and seared her with his eyes. “You couldn’t help it, could you?”

  She bristled a little. “Maybe.”

  “It was the kiss, wasn’t it?” His voice was far too low and seductive. “You were overcome.”

  “Perhaps,” she said. He walked her backward until she was pressed against the trunk of an olive tree; the lights of the main house burned dimly nearby.

  “If you call me Eddie, what should I call you?” he murmured, his arms boxing her in and his body leaning into hers.

  “You call me ‘My Lady’ already.”

  “Hmmm. True. You are My Lady,” he said as he pushed his hips into hers; she gasped at the feel of his body, hot and hard. “Doesn’t seem enough, though, does it?”

  She stuttered as she spoke. “Y-You could try C-Cat. Everyone calls me that.”

  “But I’m not ‘everyone’, am I?”

  “No,” she said, unable to deny the truth.

  “Whose are you?”

  “Eddie,” she said breathlessly. He kissed her again.

  “Whose are you?”

  Her voice trembled, her knees weakened. “Yours. I’m yours.” He kissed her again, and her hands clawed at his shirt to stay upright.

  “Whose am I?”

  “Mine,” she said. “You’re mine.” A brutal wave of possession swept through her, and her hands slid up his body to grip his shoulders, to grip him tighter to her.

  “Damn right.”

  He kissed her again, long, deep, kisses under the spring moon. Some luxurious, some with a bite, all of them addictive.

  God, how had she gone so long without being kissed like this? Needed like this? Wanted like this?

  She wasn’t a princess with him. She was just her. Just a woman.

  It was intoxicating. Liberating.

  She pulled away, needing a breath, needing to feel her feet on the ground. “Eddie.”

  He dropped his face to her neck again, his beard scratching the curve of her shoulder. The kiss he pressed there an instant later was almost as arousing as his last.

  “What am I going to do with you?” he muttered.

  She blinked the lingering haze from her eyes. “Do you need to be up tonight to keep me safe?”

  He nodded, his face still hidden.

  “Then you’re going to get some sleep, and you’re going to let me get some, too.”

  “Together?”

&n
bsp; If only. “Not yet. Not here. I couldn’t.” His head lifted and his eyes linked with hers. “Not with your sister, and nieces, and who knows who else nearby.”

  He pursed his lips and nodded. “Come on, then.” He took her hand and led her towards the house. “Did Lisette show you where you’re sleeping?”

  She nodded. “In the basement.”

  “It’s not just a basement, it’s a secure room.” He leaned in and whispered in her ear. “There’s a secret door, just underneath the bed, that leads to our control room. There are thumbprint scanners just like there are in the palace, and yours have been coded in to give you access. You hear anything that doesn’t sound right, anything goes wrong, you don’t wait, you head for the door.”

  “What about the girls? You?”

  He stopped and faced her, his free hand wrapped around the nape of her neck. His angular face was in stark relief against the porch light, and his bearded jaw was set. “You wait for nothing and no one. You understand me?”

  “Eddie.”

  He gave her neck a soft squeeze. “Do you understand me?”

  She swallowed. “I understand.”

  He nodded and kissed her forehead. “Good.”

  “See?” a small voice whispered. “I told you she was his girlfriend.”

  “She is not,” and even smaller voice whispered.

  “They’re holding hands and he kissed her.”

  “But she didn’t kiss back. She’s a pincess. Pincesses don’t kiss Unca Bas.”

  “Princess Catharine does.”

  “Pincess Cat-Cat-Catrine don’t.”

  While the girls continued their not-so-quiet argument, Edward leaned into her ear again. “My Catharine. I like that.”

  She was afraid she liked it, too.

  Perhaps too much.

  Still holding hands, he led her inside the house, the screen door slinking shut behind them. The girls sat on the staircase just near the front door, their sides close together, their bodies clad in simple pajamas and shirts that were covered with characters from a popular children’s movie.

  “Aren’t you girls supposed to be in bed?” he asked.

  “No,” Sam said.

  He raised his eyebrow. “Are you sure about that?”

  Sam tilted her head to the side and gave a small smile. “Will you read me a story, Unca Bas?” She was already perfecting the art of being a heartbreaker. Cat knew she’d have a slew of boys after her when she was older.

  “I’ll read you both a story, but only if you’re in both in your beds in the next five seconds waiting for me. One…Two…”

  Edward had barely finished ‘one’ before the girls scampered up the stairs, arguing about who could get to their bed the fastest.

  Edward chuckled, the sound reverberating through him, down his arm, and into their joined hands, where it washed through her as well.

  He shut and locked the front door, and entered a sequence on a security panel to arm the house. He led her to the basement door and leaned her against it, rather than opening it.

  “Sweet dreams, My Catharine.”

  His face was so close, her lips could almost taste his. If only he’d shift a little closer. “Same to you, Eddie.”

  Something flashed in his eyes. “Hmmm. Yes, I think I like that. My Catharine.” His head dipped to the curve of her neck. “My dreams will be filled of you.”

  Her nerves snapped to attention, and her grip on his hand tightened. “Eddie.”

  “Hmmm?” he asked as he dropped feather-light kisses to her jaw.

  “Join me,” she whispered and his body stilled. She wasn’t sure where the unexpected plea had come from, but she wanted him.

  He dropped a tantalizing kiss to her lips. “Would if I could, My Lady. However, two others have already demanded my attention tonight.”

  The girls. How could she have forgotten them in just a few minutes of his lips on her skin? “I forgot. I’m so sorry.”

  His hand reached up and slid to the nape of her neck again. “Don’t ever apologize for wanting me.” He gave her another kiss, this one knee-weakening, and she sagged against the door.

  Her eyes were half-closed, her voice breathy. “Eddie.”

  He brushed his lips against her, soft as air, but no less arousing. “Lock your door, and don’t let anyone in until I call you.”

  She blinked at his serious tone; how he could go from her soft, passionate Eddie back to straight-laced Edward so fast, she didn’t know. “But–”

  “No ‘buts’. You don’t open the door, not to the girls, my sister, anyone, not even me, unless I call you first and give you the all clear. Your room has a full bathroom and a small kitchen – stocked – should you need anything.”

  She nodded; she’d already learned it was foolish to argue with him when he got like this. “May I make a call? My parents? Alex?”

  His lips pursed in a sympathetic frown. “Sorry. No contact for right now. We’ll see how things go tomorrow, though.” He lifted their joined hands and kissed the back of hers.

  “I’m sure they’re worried.”

  “I know they’re worried, but they also know you’re safe. I’ve been in contact with Marcello, who in turn has given them updates. I’ll contact him again in a few minutes and confirm you’re down for the night, and safe.”

  “Thank you,” she whispered. “Thank you for always keeping me safe.”

  He squeezed her nape gently. “My pleasure.” With another all-too-brief kiss, he let go of her and stepped back. She took a beat to take him in, memorize the even face she now knew was teeming with emotion and heat underneath.

  She leaned over and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Good night, Eddie.”

  He sucked in a breath. “Good night, My Catharine.”

  She turned away and opened the door, Edward stepping back to give her room. She shut and locked it without another look in his direction.

  If she even glanced his way, she knew she’d just pull him in with her.

  Chapter Twelve

  The next day dawned clear and bright; Edward was always wary of days like this. So often, terrible things happened on bright, sunny days, making them even more terrible since it was never expected.

  It had taken three stories – one for Marina and two for Sam – before his nieces had finally gone to sleep. When he’d done his walk through the house after that, all had been quiet, even Catharine’s room.

  He could almost imagine a tall, curvy woman with gleaming, dark brown hair named Catharine by his side now. No longer simply ‘Princess Catharine’; now she was his Catharine.

  It was almost ten in the morning before he gave the woman in question the all clear to leave her room. Even the girls were already up. Their Marina was a morning girl, ready to get up and start her day. Sam, however, took a while to ease into the day, then went at it full force.

  When Edward saw Catharine exit the basement, his breath caught and his insecurities teased him once more.

  Catharine stepped into the kitchen in a casual cotton skirt, button-down blouse, and boots. Her eyes were bright and held an easy smile for the girls.

  “Princess Catharine, will you play with us today?” Marina asked, her legs dangling over the adult-sized chair at the dining table. “We can play dress up, or dolls–”

  “Or tea party,” Sam interjected.

  “–or tea party,” Marina said, though with a glare to her sister. “Can we, Mama? We promise to be good.”

  “Pomise!” Sam said.

  Lisette looked up from her perch at the stove, where she was making some French toast, and glanced at Catharine with a questioning look, who in turn shrugged with a smile before looking to Edward for confirmation.

  He cleared his throat. “The princess needs to help me with something but, if you’re good girls for your Mama this morning, she could play with you this afternoon.”

  They smiled with maple syrup covered lips and returned to their breakfast – chattering, then arguing – about what games t
hey would play later.

  Edward sat quietly, sipping his coffee, and waiting for Catharine to finish her meal. When she was done, he gestured for her to follow him out of the house and away from little ears.

  They walked the dirt paths towards the lavender fields.

  “Your sister is a fabulous cook.”

  He chuckled. “She knows, as you mentioned it to her twice this morning, and at least once last night.”

  “I just wanted to let her know I appreciate all she’s done for me. I’m sure she never signed up for anything like this.”

  “Like what?”

  She shrugged. “Hiding a princess. I mean unless you bring all of your threatened women here.”

  He took her arm and turned her toward him, halting them while fields of young purple blooms swayed in the morning breeze around them. “What are you implying?”

  She tried to pull away, but he held on tight. “Nothing. Never mind.”

  “It’s not nothing. What’s going on in that mind of yours, My Lady?”

  She stiffened. It seemed his haughty princess had returned, if she’d ever left. “What happened to ‘My Catharine’? You liked that well enough last night.”

  “I still like it,” he admitted reluctantly through clenched teeth. “What I don’t like is beating around the bush, so get to the point.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” she said, almost desperate and clearly frustrated. How had the morning turned so quickly?

  “It does matter.” He loosened his grip, only to wrap his arm around her instead. His other hand cupped her face. “You matter,” he said softly, and he felt her quick intake of breath. “Whatever you’re thinking and feeling matters.”

  She softened against him; God, how he loved it when she finally let go and yielded to him. “Eddie,” she murmured as her arms came tentatively around him.

  He wanted to kiss her, but they were out in the open. Even holding her close like this was too risky, but he couldn’t help it. Her long, lustrous mane was caught in the errant breezes, along with the edge of her skirt which danced around her legs. She was so soft, so graceful, so much more than him.