theprincessofisca_GEN

by Michelle Hoppe

  Tracee felt her heart pounding faster. “What news about Dylan?”

  Valerie didn’t answer.

  “Val, what news about Dylan?” Tracee stepped closer to the swing, grabbing the chains to make it stop moving. “What are you planning?”

  Valerie pushed against Tracee as she stood and took a few steps toward the end of the porch. Her eyes were looking toward the string of hotels lining the beach about half a mile from where they stood.

  “I plan to explore my relationship with Dylan.”

  “Shit, Valerie. You can’t be serious.”

  Valerie spun around, stabbing Tracee with a fierce glare. “Why?”

  “He’s human,” Tracee stated.

  “So what?” Valerie turned back to look at the hotels again.

  Tracee took Valerie by the arm and looked into her eyes. “Val. Please tell me you aren’t falling in love with this man.”

  Valerie pulled away. “I don’t know. I have feelings for Dylan. He makes me happy, but I don’t know what love feels like, Tracee. I just don’t know what to call how I feel.”

  “Val,” Tracee implored, “you can’t fall in love with Dylan.”

  “Why?”

  “He’s not a suitable mate,” Tracee reasoned.

  “Because he’s human? What law is there, that you know of, which says I can’t marry a human?”

  “There’s no law, Val.” Tracee knew this conversation wasn’t going to stop Valerie from doing what she wanted, but she had to try. “We both know under the right conditions Mer can marry humans, but it’s never been widely practiced and never, do you hear me, never by a royal daughter.”

  Valerie looked at Tracee with a determined set to her jaw. Her voice was level and non-emotional when she finally spoke again. “So because royal blood flows in my veins, I’m not allowed the same freedoms, the same choices as other Mer?”

  Tracee didn’t answer.

  “Because my parents are of royal descent, I should accept less than any other young woman living in these times? This place?”

  Again, Tracee simply looked at her friend. There were no words to combat what she said.

  “The Mer world has not worshiped at the fins of a king or queen in over two hundred years, Tracee. My bloodline, my so-called title, are only remnants of a past which is quickly disappearing.”

  “I know,” Tracee offered with a shrug of her shoulder.

  “Yes. You know, I know, everyone knows but my mother, apparently.”

  “Val.”

  “What?”

  “You’re the best friend I have in the world. I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

  Valerie embraced Tracee. “I know. But this is my life, Tracee, I have to live it.”

  Tracee gave a weak laugh. “I know.”

  “So you will help me?”

  “Whatever it takes, Val. Whatever it takes.” Tracee pulled from Valerie’s arms and together they returned inside.

  * * * *

  Her hips swayed with each high-heeled step she took. The short white miniskirt set off the deep tan on her legs. Her long, red curls cascaded down her back, ending just above her waist. Dylan’s gaze was riveted by the sight of Valerie entering the hotel bar.

  Her eyes scanned the dimly lit room, looking for him. When she glanced in his direction, he gave a slight wave of his hand and smiled. Having caught Valerie’s attention, Dylan stood as she approached his table, pulling out a chair for her.

  Valerie’s smile widened. She reached out to touch Dylan’s cheek with a flutter of fingertips before she laid her purse on the table and slid gracefully into the offered chair.

  “Thank you.” Her musical voice flowed over him.

  “You’re welcome.” Dylan returned to his seat, reaching across the table to take her fingers in his hand.

  “I hope you didn’t have any plans.” Her voice held a hint of something Dylan recognized. She was saying all the correct words, but at the same time hinting that if he’d had plans, she’d be crushed they hadn’t included her.

  “No plans. I really was just watching television when you called.”

  Valerie smiled. God, Dylan thought, I could get lost in her smile. “Would you like a drink?” Dylan asked.

  “No.”

  “No.” Dylan was a little surprised.

  “Can we take a walk?”

  “Of course.” Dylan pushed his chair back and stood. Returning to the other side of the table he pulled out her chair and assisted Valerie to her feet. Dropping a couple of dollars on the table for the waitress, he took Valerie’s hand in his and led her from the hotel.

  The night air was warm. A gentle breeze stirred the fronds of the palm trees lining the boardwalk leading to the ocean.

  “How about a stroll on the beach?” Dylan inquired, without really expecting an answer as he’d already headed in the direction of the crashing waves.

  Valerie squeezed his fingertips and rested her head on his shoulder. Their legs moved forward at a slow, meandering pace, neither in a hurry to arrive at a destination.

  “Dylan?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why are you still here, on St. Kitts?”

  Dylan smiled. “I told you.”

  “Tell me again,” Valerie implored.

  “You.”

  “Yes.” She stopped walking and twirled her body in front of his to block his forward motion. “Now explain what you mean by that.”

  Dylan wrapped one arm around her waist, locking his elbow to hold her tight.

  Pulling her forward he cupped the side of her face with his free hand and lowered his lips to hers.

  Valerie squirmed against him, but her mouth opened willingly to admit his tongue. Dylan splayed his fingers across her cheek, sliding up to connect with the soft flesh of her earlobe. His tongue circling hers, he pushed his knee against her legs, creating a place for his to slip between them.

  Dylan pressed his hips forward, rubbing his swollen cock against her inner thigh, then swayed back, the sound of waves rolling endlessly ashore providing a cadence for his movements. The lingering kiss continued, Dylan’s tongue thrusting in, circling hers, then retreating back to his own mouth followed by hers in a chasing dance.

  Each time his groin pressed against her leg, Valerie’s fingernails bit a little harder into his back. Dylan wanted to make love to her. Here. Now. Soft purring escaped Valerie’s throat, driving Dylan forward. His fingers tightened around the back of her neck, pinning her lips to his.

  Opening his eyes, Dylan scanned the surrounding area to discern if they were alone. Seeing nothing but empty beach as far as his eyesight could reach in the darkness, Dylan reached down with his free arm to lift her skirt out of his way, pushing it up her hips, until it rested on her waist, the soft skin of her ass was exposed to the warm night air.

  The silky thong she wore did nothing to impede his capture of her clit between his fingers. Dylan released her lips. His tongue trailed down her chin and continued to her neck. Two fingers slid into her pussy. Valerie opened her mouth to moan her pleasure, as her head tilted backwards, exposing her tanned neck to his mouth.

  Placing nibbling little bites on her neck and shoulder, Dylan pumped his fingers in and out of her wetness, his quickly swelling cock pressing tightly against his slacks.

  Valerie’s fingers dug into his upper arms as her hips began to pump against his hand. “I want your cock.”

  Dylan nipped her shoulder. “You do?”

  A breath rushed out of her lungs, carrying her response with it. “Yes. I want to feel your cock sliding deep inside me.”

  Dylan pushed his fingers deeper, twisting them back and forth to scrape along her walls, his thumb stroking the area around her clit.

  “Make love to me,” Valerie pleaded. “Please, Dylan.”

  Dylan pulled back, his fingers withdrawing from her vagina, his lips leaving the delicate skin of her neck. “I can’t.”

  Valerie fell against his chest. “Why? Last night, I thought…”
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  “Last night was glorious, Valerie, and I want to…”

  “Then why did you stop?”

  “Because there’s something I must tell you.”

  Valerie laughed. “I don’t want to talk, Dylan. I want to feel your cock slide into my pussy. I want your hands, your lips, on my body.”

  “No, Valerie. This can’t wait. I’m not who you think I am. Or—”

  Gunfire exploded around them.

  Dylan spun around looking for the source of the sound. Valerie held tight against his chest.

  Another loud pounding sounded. Not gunfire.

  Dylan felt himself fading from the beach.

  Everything became duller and he could no longer feel Valerie’s body touching his.

  More pounding.

  * * * *

  Dylan shot out of bed, head twisting left and right looking for the cause of the noise that had pulled him from his dream.

  Rapid pounding sounded on the door. Someone, using the flat of their hand, was drumming a steady beat against its metal surface.

  Dylan glanced at the red numbers, glowing from the bedside clock. Two thirty-eight a.m.

  “This God-damned better be important,” Dylan yelled as his feet carried him to the door. In one swift motion he snapped on the light, grabbed the security slide and pulled it back toward his body.

  The flat handed knock continued to beat on his door. Once the cold metal of the security slide was out of the way, Dylan turned the knob and pulled hard on the door.

  “What the fuck is wrong?” he hissed through clenched teeth.

  Dylan felt the cartilage snap as a fist connected with his nose, sending him staggering backwards into the room.

  A woman’s scream echoed from behind Dylan at the same time the connecting door to Megan’s room hit the wall with a resounding thud.

  “Where is she?” The mountain of flesh moved forward into the room, fists at the ready to deliver another punch if he received the wrong answer.

  Megan reached Dylan’s side and with her arms wrapped around his waist, she pulled him back from the angry man. “Where is who?” Megan’s voice squeaked. “Why did you hit my brother?”

  The man seemed to realize for the first time someone else was in the room. His face softened slightly and Dylan watched as his hands relaxed, no longer balled into fists. “I’m sorry, miss,” the mountain spoke, “but your brother has a lot to answer for.”

  Dylan swiped the back of his hand over his upper lip to stem the flow of blood into his mouth. “Megan, honey, get me a towel, please.” He was surprised his voice came out steady.

  “Come in the bathroom with me, so I can get you cleaned up,” Megan requested.

  Taking her wrist in his, Dylan looked down into her face. “Just get me a towel.”

  Megan walked to the bathroom, turning on the lights in the room as she went.

  Seconds later Dylan heard the water flowing.

  Never taking his eyes from the face of the man standing just inside the doorway, Dylan waited for Megan to return with the damp cloth, which he gently placed against his nostrils to catch the blood. “Who are you?” he demanded of the giant.

  “Edward Richardson.” A small squeak again escaped Megan’s lungs. She took a step backwards, placing her body slightly behind Dylan’s. “And unless you want to feel my fist again, you better tell me what you’ve done with my daughter.”

  Valerie wasn’t here. They’d agreed to get some much-needed sleep. Dylan’s heart twisted. If she wasn’t here and her father didn’t know where to find her, where was she? He knew she was staying somewhere close by. She’d mentioned a cottage, but he didn’t have a clue where it was. Not that he’d tell Richardson even if he did know.

  Dylan didn’t like Edward’s tone or threatening attitude and hoped his tone of voice conveyed his feelings. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Mr. Richardson.”

  Dylan noticed Richardson’s fingers slowly folding inward, his hands becoming fists again. He tried to remain calm. “I have done nothing with your daughter, Mr. Richardson. I haven’t seen her since last night.” Unless you count my dream, Dylan thought.

  “Don’t lie to me, son.”

  “My brother doesn’t lie,” Megan shouted, indignation ripe in her voice. “Valerie isn’t here.”

  “Thank you, Megan, but I can handle this without your help. Please go back to your room and let me deal with the situation.”

  “Like hell, Dylan. I’m calling hotel security and having this man arrested for assault.”

  “Megan.” Dylan used his best big-brother voice. “Go back to your room. If I need hotel security, I’ll call them myself.”

  His sister’s eyes flashed with anger, but she followed his instructions and returned to her own room. Dylan noticed she didn’t close the connecting door.

  Dylan’s mind raced. Why did Edward Richardson think he knew where she was? And more important, where was Valerie? Turning his attention back to the wall of man standing in front of him, Dylan spoke more calmly than he felt. “Mr. Richardson, would you please come in and sit down?”

  “No. Damn it, this isn’t a social call, young man. I want to know where my daughter is and I want to know right now.”

  “And, as I’ve already told you, I don’t know where your daughter is. The last time I saw her, Valerie was with her friend Tracee and they had plans to go shopping.”

  “When was that?” Edward demanded.

  “Late yesterday afternoon. Around three, I think.”

  Edward’s fists clenched and unclenched repeatedly. “And you haven’t seen her this evening?”

  “Sir, I don’t know what you think is going on here, but whatever it is, you’re mistaken.”

  “I know what is going on here. My daughter has been seeing you for over two weeks and I’m sure things have progressed beyond hand holding.”

  Edward’s eyes bored into Dylan, looking to confirm his words. Dylan stood unflinching. No way was he going to let Valerie’s father have the upper hand. “And if it has?”

  The taunt was a mistake. Dylan found himself once again reeling backward from a blow to the face, the sound of breaking bone ringing in his ears as the rock-hard fist connected with his cheek.

  Dylan felt himself going over backwards, his body falling toward the floor. His eyes were shut against the pain ripping over his face and his hand dropped the wet towel he’d been holding.

  As his head cracked on the floor behind him, Dylan heard Valerie’s voice.

  “Father,” she screamed, “what are you doing?”

  Dylan felt her hands on his chest. Her voice came to him from a distance. “Dylan, are you okay?”

  He couldn’t answer her. His knees drew up against the sudden angry pain rocketing around his head.

  As a blinding light flashed against his eyeballs, Dylan heard Megan’s cry fill the room. “What did you do to my brother?”

  “Someone get me a towel,” Valerie ordered.

  Every noise pounded in Dylan’s head. Pain stretched fingers of ice across his nerve endings, causing his stomach to lurch. Seconds before he passed out, Dylan heard hotel security arrive.

  * * * *

  Katherine paced back and forth across the living room carpet. Edward had been gone for five hours already and he still hadn’t called. “Hell,” she spoke to the room.

  When Valerie failed to return home after missing dinner with their guest, Katherine became worried. As her absence continued for days, she became frantic.

  Perhaps she’d gone too far? Maybe giving Val the profiles hadn’t been the best course.

  Edward tried to excuse Valerie’s extended absence with assurances she must be at Tracee’s. However, after three days, he too became concerned.

  They’d called Tracee’s house. No one was home. They’d sent several people to look in all her regular hang-outs, both in Isca and Colesca. Nothing. No one had seen or heard from Valerie for almost three days.

  Normally, Katherine wouldn’t wo
rry if Val didn’t come home, but after their fight, she wanted to make sure her daughter was okay.

  It was late afternoon when she’d decided to tell Edward about her real plan. She had to give him credit. He’d listened to the entire story without exploding. He’d actually taken the news rather calmly.

  Katherine looked at the clock again. Three a.m. “That’s it. I can’t just stand here waiting any longer.”

  Without further thought, Katherine walked through the French doors onto the patio and continued down to the water’s edge. Pausing only long enough to shake her sandals off her feet and slip out of the robe she wore, Katherine plunged into the waves and with strong, steady strokes, headed for the open ocean.

  * * * *

  Dylan’s nose bled and his cheek was swelling and red. Valerie held a towel against his nostrils to stem the flow of blood. “I’m so sorry,” Valerie started to speak, but didn’t continue as she heard hotel security arrive. Looking over her shoulder, she saw her father in conversation with the two men.

  Dylan’s legs drew up tight against his body, a groan escaping his lips, just as his eyeballs rolled to the back of his head and he appeared to pass out. Valerie grabbed his shoulders, her face very close to his. “Dylan.” She shook him. “Dylan, answer me.”

  Megan was kneeling on the floor next to Dylan’s head. Valerie glanced up at her stricken face. “See if there’s a doctor in the hotel,” Valerie ordered.

  Megan didn’t move.

  “Megan.”

  Still she sat staring at Dylan’s quickly swelling face. Silent tears ran down her cheek and settled in the curve of her lips.

  Valerie didn’t want to yell at her, so instead, twisted around to issue instructions to the three men behind her. “Father, Dylan needs a doctor, now.”

  Edward stopped talking and glanced in her direction for the first time. A look of surprise on his face turned to concern when he noticed she was gently shaking Dylan’s lifeless body.

  “You,” Valerie pointed to the security guys, “help me get him on the bed.”

  Valerie didn’t wait to see if the others responded to her orders, she simply stood and waited for them to do her bidding.