Passion, Purity and the Prince

by Annie West

  Just a little longer…

  A disturbing memory surfaced of Felix talking excitedly about finding the one right woman. But his brother had made the mistake of believing in love.

  Alaric would never make that error.

  ‘Why are you shaking your head? Aren’t I touching it right?’

  Alaric rubbed his chin against her hair. ‘You always touch just right. It’s one of your talents.’

  Tamsin was a natural sensualist who loved giving and receiving pleasure. Her tentative forays into pleasing him reduced him to a slavering wreck. Imagine when she became expert at seducing a man!

  A splinter of dismay punctured his self-satisfaction at the notion of Tamsin sharing herself with another.

  Alaric’s jaw tensed.

  He wouldn’t let it happen.

  Not yet. Not for a long time. He wouldn’t relinquish her until this liaison had run its course.

  His left hand crept towards the apex of her thighs.

  Her hand clamped his wrist and instantly he felt ashamed. Only an hour ago they’d finally emerged from bed. His attempts to restrain himself, allowing her time to recuperate from their lovemaking, kept failing abysmally. He needed to be more considerate. Until a few days ago she’d never been with a man.

  His chest expanded on a rough breath of satisfaction. He couldn’t help it. He tried to feel guilty for stealing her virginity but now all he experienced was pleasure knowing he was her first, her only.

  It must be the novelty that made him feel he never wanted to let her go.

  ‘Not in front of the horses,’ she whispered as he nudged her ponytail aside and kissed her neck.

  ‘You think they’ll be offended?’ He smiled against her fragrant skin, pulling her back from the stall.

  ‘I…’ The word disintegrated in a sigh of delight that stoked his ego.

  ‘You’ve never been naked in front of a horse?’ he teased as he laved her skin.

  ‘I’ve never been near a horse.’ She tilted her head to allow him better access.

  ‘Tragic,’ he murmured. ‘So much to make up for. Horses, sledding, caviar, breakfast in bed. So many firsts.’ He punctuated each word with a tiny bite to her neck and was rewarded by tremors of response that racked her body. He gathered her close. ‘What were your parents thinking to deprive you so?’

  Did he imagine a stiffening of her slender form?

  ‘I was a very fortunate child. You can’t call me deprived.’

  No? Alaric thought of how she hid her bright, strong personality behind a dowdy façade. It wasn’t a deliberate ploy, he knew now, but part of who she was. He recalled the way her eyes clouded when she’d thought she’d disappointed him. There was a strong streak of self-doubt in his lover and Alaric wished he knew why. With her intelligence and drive it was a wonder she wasn’t over-confident.

  ‘Ah.’ He nuzzled her hair. ‘So you were a pampered miss who got everything her way. All the latest toys on demand?’

  She shook her head. ‘My parents didn’t believe in store bought toys. I amused myself. But I had access to books and solitude to read. I had a secure home and time to dream.’

  Alaric’s hands stilled in the act of slipping up her ribcage. ‘Secure’ didn’t sound like ‘happy’. ‘Solitude’ had a lonely ring. A familiar ring. His father had ensured Alaric and Felix grew up in impeccable isolation. But at least Alaric had had a brother to look up to.

  ‘What did you dream about, Tamsin?’ He cupped her soft breasts and felt her sink against him. ‘A prince in a far-away castle?’

  ‘Sometimes,’ she whispered.

  ‘Did he have dark hair and blue eyes and his very own sleigh?’

  She twisted in his arms. A moment later her arms twined around his neck.

  ‘Of course!’ Her eyes gleamed and her lips curved in a gentle smile that tugged at something deep inside.

  ‘What else did you dream about?’

  Tamsin shrugged and her gaze dropped. ‘I don’t know. Adventure. Going out with friends. The usual.’

  Alaric thought of the dossier at the castle. It described a girl without siblings or close friends, whose much older parents had busy careers. A girl living a solitary life.

  Did she realise how much her words revealed about her loneliness? Something swelled in his chest. Something like pain or regret.

  ‘I think we can organise some adventure.’ He tipped her chin and looked into her now guarded eyes. ‘We could climb the base of the cliff behind the lodge if it’s not too icy.’

  Tamsin’s eyes lit with golden sparks. Her smile made him feel like royalty in a way he never had before.

  ‘I’d love that! Thank you. When can we go?’

  He grinned. He’d known she had an adventurous streak. How easy it was to make her happy!

  It surprised him how much he wanted her to be happy.

  Alaric lifted his hand and pulled her ponytail loose so he could feel her heavy tresses on his hands. He needed this constant connection. To touch and taste, as if he feared she’d vanish if he didn’t hold her.

  ‘Another hour to let the sun melt any fresh ice.’

  ‘That gives us time.’ Her hands slid down, trailing fire. She yanked his shirt loose and slipped her palms up his torso, flesh against sizzling flesh. His body hardened.

  Alaric loved that she was a quick learner.

  ‘Time for what?’ His voice was husky as desire twisted in his belly.

  ‘Another first.’ Now her smile was mischievous and he felt its impact in some unnamed part of him. ‘I’ve never made love in a stable.’

  Heart pounding, Alaric slipped his arms around her and lifted her into his embrace. It felt right. Satisfying.

  He turned and strode towards the clean hay in the far corner. ‘Allow me to remedy that right now.’

  It was the noise that woke Tamsin. A cry so raw and anguished it made her blood congeal in atavistic terror.

  Startled, she lay, breathing deep, wondering what had shattered her slumber. Moonlight streamed through the windows and behind the fire screen embers glowed.

  Instinctively she moved closer to Alaric. For the past three days there’d barely been a moment when they weren’t touching, even in sleep.

  Amazing how she missed that contact.

  As she rolled over she realised he was burning up, his skin feverish and damp with sweat.

  Tamsin touched his shoulder. It was rigid as if every sinew dragged tight. She leaned close and heard his breathing, sharp and shallow. Her hand slid across his muscled chest that rose and fell in an unnatural rhythm.

  ‘Alaric?’

  No response. Did she imagine his breathing was laboured? Desperately she tried to recall everything she’d read about asthma and restricted airways.

  ‘Alaric!’ She shook him, alarmed at how her hands slipped on his fever-slickened flesh. ‘Alaric. Wake up!’ She shook his shoulders.

  Restlessly his head turned back and forth. He mumbled something. But try as she might she couldn’t wake him.

  Fear spiked. They were out of phone range and she couldn’t summon help if his condition worsened. Tamsin bit her lip. It wouldn’t come to that.

  First she had to get his temperature down.

  She slid back the covers ready to fetch a damp flannel when another cry rent the air. Her blood froze at the wordless horror of that shout. It tapered into a wail of such grief every hair stood on end.

  There was a convulsion of movement. The covers were flung wide and Alaric’s hard frame landed on hers with such force it knocked the air from her lungs.

  ‘No!’ Huge hands gripped her shoulders. ‘You can’t!’ He choked on the words, his head sinking to her breast.

  It took a moment to realise the dampness she felt there wasn’t sweat but tears. A sob shook his big body and Tamsin reached up, cradling him close.

  ‘Sh, Alaric.’ His distress frightened her, evoking fierce protective instincts. She felt his pain as if it shafted through her body. ‘It’s all right, dar
ling, do you hear me?’ Tamsin squeezed as tight as she could while his shoulders heaved and hot tears smeared between them.

  She hated feeling so useless.

  She hated that he hurt so badly.

  ‘It’s OK. It’ll be OK,’ she crooned, rocking him as best she could. ‘My darling. Everything’s all right.’

  Gradually, as she murmured endearments, the rigidity seeped from his body and his breathing evened a little.

  ‘Tamsin?’

  Still she rocked him, her arms clamped tight. ‘It’s all right. It was just a dream.’

  For long moments he lay still in her arms, then without warning he rolled off her, leaving her bereft.

  ‘Alaric? Are you all right?’

  He raised his forearm over his face. In the pallid light she saw his mouth crimp into a stern line as he fought whatever demons plagued him.

  Instinctively she moved closer, tugging the discarded bedding to his waist and nestling her head on his chest, one arm wrapped protectively across him. He’d always seemed so strong and confident, so casually in command.

  Her distress at his pain was a sharp ache. Was this what happened when you connected with another person? When you shared your true self as well as your body?

  ‘I’m sorry.’ His voice was slurred. ‘You shouldn’t have to witness that.’ His breath shuddered out. ‘I didn’t mean to frighten you.’

  For answer she snuggled closer, lifting her leg to anchor his thighs, as if by surrounding him she could blot out his nightmare.

  ‘Don’t worry. Everything’s fine now.’

  ‘Fine?’ The word cracked like a gunshot. ‘It’ll never be fine.’ He tore his arm from his face and she saw his fist pound the other side of the bed. But behind her his arm curved tight, holding her close.

  ‘Did I hurt you?’ His voice was a deep rumble. He stared at the top of the four poster bed, as if unwilling to face her. ‘Tamsin, are you OK?’

  ‘Of course I’m OK.’

  ‘No questions?’ he asked after a minute. ‘Surely that enquiring mind of yours wants answers?’ His mouth was a grim line in the half-dark.

  A month ago his expression would have deterred Tamsin. But now she knew the tender, caring man behind the royal title and the rogue’s reputation. She sensed his deep hurt.

  She stretched up. Her breasts slid over his chest but she managed to ignore the inevitable tremor of awareness. She leaned over him till her hair curtained their faces in darkness. Holding his jaw in her hands she planted a whisper-light kiss on his lips.

  He tasted of salt and heat and suffering.

  His mouth was warm beneath hers as she repeated the action, allowing all she felt for him loose in that simple caress. Feelings she hadn’t censored.

  When she lifted her head one large palm covered the back of her skull and urged her down for another kiss. One so piercingly sweet she ached with the beauty of it. His other arm roped around her hips, drawing her in as if to ensure she wouldn’t escape.

  As if she wanted to go anywhere!

  Never had they kissed like this: a sharing of the soul, not the body. Emotion escalated, filling every lonely part of her. She clung, wanting to explain how she felt but not having the words. Letting her body say what she couldn’t.

  From nowhere tears welled and spilled unheeded.

  ‘Tamsin?’ His thumb stroked her cheek, blurring the hot trail. ‘Don’t cry. Not over me.’

  Too late. She was in too deep. Asking her not to care was like asking her to set fire to a library. Impossible.

  Fervently she pressed her lips to his, blotting out whatever he was going to say. He kissed her till she sank into languorous pleasure. Finally he pulled back.

  In the dark she felt his gaze. With a sigh he settled her on his chest and wrapped her close. Beneath her ear his heartbeat thrummed steadily.

  ‘I owe you an explanation.’ His voice was husky.

  ‘You don’t owe me anything. It was just a nightmare.’

  ‘I was selfish, sleeping with you. What if I’d hurt you? I should have let you sleep alone.’

  ‘It’s you I’m worried about.’ She hesitated, trying to summon an even tone and force away the chill that invaded at the idea of sleeping alone. ‘You have these dreams often?’

  His silence answered for him.

  ‘You’re afraid you might lash out in your sleep?’

  ‘It’s too dangerous. I risked your safety.’

  ‘I told you, Alaric, I’m—’

  ‘OK. So you say. But you don’t know.’ His words tailed off and the desolation she heard cut to her heart. ‘Everything I touch turns to ashes. Everyone.’

  Tamsin froze at the profound despair in his voice.

  ‘Tell me.’ She cuddled closer, her mind whirring while she tried to sound cool and detached.

  ‘Talking about it will help?’ Sarcasm threaded his voice. She ignored it, guessing he fought deep-seated pain any way he could.

  ‘Bottling it up is no solution.’ Look at the way she’d turned inwards, isolating herself rather than take the risk of being rejected. ‘Whatever the problem, it will fester if you don’t face it.’

  ‘Now you’re calling me a coward.’ There was a huff of amusement in his voice that made her smile sadly. Alaric was excellent at using humour and his killer charm to deflect attention from the inner man.

  How had she not seen it before?

  ‘What have you got to fear? Unless you think I’ll do a kiss and tell interview?’

  ‘I can’t imagine anything less likely.’ He stroked her hair and Tamsin’s tension eased a little. She had his trust at least. That was a start.

  Silence fell.

  ‘It’s not about me,’ he said eventually. ‘It’s the people I failed. That’s who I dream of.’ He sounded so stern, so judgemental, not like the Alaric she knew.

  ‘I can’t imagine you letting anyone down.’

  His laugh was bitter. ‘Don’t you believe it. I was an unruly kid, always in trouble, a constant disappointment to my father. I heard often enough it was lucky I was just a second son. I didn’t have what it took to rule.’

  Tamsin bit her tongue rather than blurt out that his father sounded like a brute. A man who hadn’t loved his wife, or, it seemed, his child. The more she heard the more she disliked.

  ‘Then he’d be surprised to see Ruvingia flourishing now.’

  Alaric said nothing. She sensed the reference to his father had been a distraction.

  ‘Alaric? Tell me about your dreams.’

  His chest rose beneath her like a wave cresting to shore. Tamsin clung grimly, willing him to share the source of his grief. It ate at him, destroying his peace.

  At last he complied. ‘I see them all die,’ he whispered, ‘and I can’t save them.’

  Tamsin’s blood chilled at his haunted tone. ‘Tell me.’

  ‘So you can absolve me?’ But his scepticism held anguish. Finally when she didn’t answer he explained.

  As a career army officer he’d jumped at the chance a few years ago to put his skills to good use, volunteering as a peacekeeper overseas. No sooner had he signed on than his whole unit had followed him.

  They were posted near an isolated village, protecting a wide area from insurgents. Short bouts of dangerous activity were interspersed with long quiet periods which allowed time to get to know the locals. One little fatherless boy in particular had hung around, fascinated by the foreigners and especially Alaric. From his tone it was clear Alaric had been fond of him too.

  When a report came of trouble in an outlying zone Alaric responded immediately, taking men to investigate.

  ‘It was a ruse. But by the time we got there and discovered that it was too late.’ They’d returned to their base to discover the village had been attacked. Both soldiers and civilians had been wounded and some had died, the little boy among them.

  ‘He died in my arms.’ Alaric’s voice was hoarse. ‘I couldn’t save him.’ A sigh racked his body. ‘There were too many I
couldn’t save.’

  ‘There’s nothing you could have done.’ Her heart broke at the pain ravaging him.

  ‘No?’ Glittering eyes clashed with hers. ‘I was the officer in charge. If I hadn’t split my men the village would have been safe. If I hadn’t responded so quickly to an unconfirmed report—’

  Tamsin cupped his jaw in her hand. ‘You don’t know what would have happened. Maybe the attack there would have been worse. You did your best.’

  ‘You don’t understand. I was there to protect them and I failed. I failed my men too. They were only there because of me. Some didn’t survive. Others still bear the scars.’ He halted, swallowing. ‘Except me. I came home without a scratch.’

  Tamsin’s heart clenched at the guilt and self-loathing in his voice. She remembered Peter, his livid scar and how he’d talked of Alaric’s sense of responsibility. Now it made terrible sense.

  ‘Far better if I’d died too.’

  ‘Don’t say that!’ Her fist clenched on his chest.

  For a moment Alaric let himself enjoy the pleasure of her innocent belief in him. It was novel to have anyone so vehemently on his side.

  The whole truth would rip the scales from her eyes. Part of him wanted to keep her in ignorance.

  But he didn’t deserve her charity.

  ‘I came back to Ruvingia.’ He’d been at a loose end, unable to settle, finding it hard to carry out the most routine official duties whilst memories of the deaths plagued him. ‘I spent my time amusing myself. Fast cars, parties, women. Lots of women.’ Sex had at least brought the oblivion of exhaustion, allowing him to sleep.

  ‘My older brother, Felix, welcomed me.’ His gut twisted, remembering Felix’s patience with his wayward and tormented younger sibling. ‘He was full of plans, even talking of marriage, but I wasn’t interested. I was too wrapped up in my own troubles to listen.’

  Some days it had been almost too hard to see Felix, so successful, capable and grounded. The epitome of what Alaric had aspired to be but not achieved.

  Felix wouldn’t have let those he was responsible for die. Felix would have found a way to save them.

  ‘Alaric?’