He backed towards the door. ‘I just came to see if you’re okay and apologise for not spending time with you—Kara asked me to go and speak to the staff from her new offices in Sri Lanka and Auckland. They are rolling out a peer programme in both countries and it was encouraging to hear about the impact it is already having.’ He came to a stop, feeling crazily emotional remembering some of the stories he had heard from the staff of teenagers alone and isolated, struggling with mental-health issues. He cleared his throat, hating to feel so vulnerable in front of his father. He looked at Alice. ‘I need to go and speak to the guests in the ballroom; do join me when you are free.’
Alice patted the space beside her. ‘Why don’t you come and chat with us for five minutes first?’
His father sat back in his seat and studied him. It would be so much easier to go back to the ballroom. Be distracted by light-hearted chat and banter. Have a few drinks.
Alice’s gaze met his and with the slightest of nods she silently said, This is the right thing to do.
He went and sat beside her. Alice smiled in his father’s direction. ‘Your father, His Highness, very kindly has been giving me an outline of your family history.’ She threw him a teasing look. ‘You’re descended from warrior kings—no wonder you need to have challenges in your life.’
His father made a disapproving sound. Alice turned her attention back to him. ‘You must be proud of Luis winning the World Series.’
His father mumbled something that was indecipherable.
‘Did you ever go and watch one of his races?’
Luis stared at Alice. Where was she going with this?
‘I was never invited.’
He stared at his father. ‘I never thought you’d want to come.’
His father gave an indignant snort. ‘Of course I would have liked to see you race—if I had been asked.’
He couldn’t believe this. ‘Why didn’t you come anyway?’
His father’s nostrils flared. ‘You didn’t want me there.’
‘I never said that.’
His father gave a bitter laugh. ‘You never said anything to me, full stop.’
Luis sat forward in his seat, anger and disbelief firing inside of him. ‘That’s because you stole all of the airtime criticising me.’
His father’s mouth hardened. And then with a jolt of shock he realised that there were tears in his father’s eyes. His father looked at Alice and then at him, as if deciding whether to respond. Eventually he said, ‘Did you have to pick such a dangerous sport? And not just that—after your mother died, why did you insist on riding her horse? Even though I had banned you from doing so?’
He closed his eyes. ‘It wasn’t Cassini’s fault; something caused him to bolt. Mum adored him. She’d have wanted us to care for him. She certainly wouldn’t have wanted you to sell him.’
‘I had no option but to sell him when you kept defying my orders.’
About to fire back a furious retort, he felt Alice’s hand touch his thigh and he swallowed his words.
‘Can you understand how difficult it was for me to see you riding him?’
He winced at the pain in his father’s voice and quietly admitted, ‘I hadn’t realised... I wasn’t thinking about you.’
He waited for his father to deliver some barbed comment, point out just how selfish and irresponsible he was, but instead his father asked quietly, ‘Are you returning to powerboating—is that why you want to speak to Edwin and me tomorrow?’
Should he say yes, that he was going back to the life and career he loved? Beside him Alice shifted, the red material of her skirt landing to cover one of his knees. The past few days with her, the intimacy, the calmness of his days, how much he had wanted to find her just now—all of a sudden he was no longer certain the life he thought he loved so much was all that he really thought it was.
‘I’m not sure... I want to discuss it with you and Edwin tomorrow.’
His father stood. ‘Edwin needs your help—the role of monarch is becoming ever more demanding in the changing global environment.’ He moved towards the door but before he left he added, ‘And Edwin is right—it’s time that we became a family again.’ With a nod in Alice’s direction he said, ‘It’s been nice to see you again, Alice; please come back and see us some time soon.’
* * *
They sat in silence, Luis’s father’s footsteps out in the corridor fading away.
‘He likes you.’
She considered him. ‘Why do you say that?’
‘He doesn’t usually speak to people outside his inner circle.’
Alice considered that for a moment. ‘I think he was just looking for an excuse to get away from the ballroom—the music is pretty loud.’
‘How did you both end up speaking in the first place?’
She laughed at his puzzlement. ‘I just went over and started chatting to him; he looked bored.’ She stopped and gasped. ‘Did I just commit some social faux pas in approaching him?’
Luis grinned. ‘Perhaps...but the fact that he remembered your name means you’re forgiven in his eyes.’
Confused, she asked, ‘What’s the significance of him remembering my name?’
‘He deliberately calls people by the wrong name when he’s unhappy with them.’ Leaning his head against the back of the sofa, he added on a sigh, ‘I had no idea that he wanted me to invite him to my races...’ He looked in her direction. ‘Am I right in thinking he was saying that he was worried about my safety?’
She nodded.
Sitting upright, he took her hand in his. ‘I’m sorry you had to sit through that conversation, and that I’ve spent so little time with you tonight.’
Threading her fingers through his, she answered truthfully, ‘I hope things work out for you, Luis—that the differences in your family can be healed and that you find a career that will fulfil and challenge you.’
‘I’m glad you’re here.’
Her heart melted at the tenderness in his voice. ‘I’m glad I’m here too.’ But then, trying to gather herself, remembering that tomorrow she would have to go back to reality, she forced herself to smile and added, ‘It’s not often that I’ll get to wear a designer dress and hang out with A-list celebrities. I can’t wait to see Toni’s expression when I tell her.’
Standing, he helped her up and with the sexiest of grins asked, ‘Have you ever danced with a prince at a ball?’
She smiled. ‘No, I can’t say that I have.’
He led her to the ballroom, where elaborate cascades of white flowers hung from the ceiling, filling the room with a delicate floral scent. The lights were down low, and the orchestra was playing a slow number. They moved onto the dance floor, Luis saying hello to everyone they passed, and as they danced he continued to acknowledge those around them. But between them there was a private dance going on. Every touch, every look held a significance. His fingers ran down her spine. Hers touched the cords of his neck. His mouth beside her ear, he whispered, ‘As much as I love that dress, I have to admit I can’t help but fantasise about you wearing those sandals and nothing else.’
She blushed at the sensuous tone in his voice. But then frustration and bewilderment that these were their last hours together had her step away and say, ‘Follow me.’
She led him out onto the terrace, heading in the direction of the bright lights of the Ferris wheel. But that was not her destination. Instead, she led him off the path and into a copse of trees, walking until they could go no further.
She backed him up against a tree trunk. And admitted, ‘There never was a dare.’
He raised an eyebrow, waiting for her to further explain her confession.
‘That first time I kissed you, here in the palace...nobody dared me. But I had to do it, I had to kiss you. I had never met someone I so badly wanted to kiss in my entire life. And it had nothing
to do with your beard.’ Desire was stripping away her every inhibition. She didn’t care about the past or the future. For the next few hours she wanted to be truly alive. She wanted to forget every reason why this was a bad idea and live within this man’s skin. She wanted to know every part of him.
He considered her words. Nodded sombrely. ‘Thank you for sharing that with me.’
‘I want to kiss you again.’
‘No.’
She blinked. No! What did he mean? They had been making out for the past week.
His arm reaching around her waist, he whipped her around so that it was her back to the tree. The bark was smooth and warm. Monrosa was a long way away from the crisp coldness of Verbier and the dampness of London.
He placed a hand on the trunk, hit her with a dark look. ‘This time, I’m the one doing the kissing. But be warned...it will be nothing like your kiss. This kiss...is going to be demanding and hard,’ he paused, his mouth reaching for her ear, ‘and perhaps even a little brutal.’
Her heart thumped against her chest. She was scared, but in a totally sensual way.
His eyes flashed. ‘So, do you want me to kiss you?’
She nodded, her heart beating even faster.
His finger resting at the base of her throat for a moment, he traced a slow path down over her necklace and into the valley of her breasts.
Her back arched.
His mouth touched her neck. She inhaled the earthy tones of his aftershave, her head spinning as his mouth moved up her throat in a slow, tortuous path.
When his mouth reached hers, he drew back and whispered, ‘You’re extraordinary,’ and then his lips were on hers. Soft. Light.
She moaned. ‘You said it would be brutal.’
‘Patience,’ he whispered back.
His mouth parted hers. She gasped at the wonder of the heat of his mouth. One hand was on her waist, the other running over the outline of her breast, sending pulses of pleasure the length of her body.
His tongue touched hers, but it was all too teasing, too light.
She panted out, ‘More. Harder.’
He pulled back. ‘Are you sure?’
She nodded. His expression hardened with dark passion. His mouth found hers again. Demanding and in control, deep and seeking, sending a feverish heat through her. His hands wrapped around her wrists, drawing her arms above her head, and he pinned them to the trunk with one hand. Her body arched into the rigid planes of his. Her head spun. His mouth continued to wreak havoc on hers.
She arched even more when his free hand tugged down the front of her dress. She gasped as her nipples felt the warm air of the night. Her legs buckled when his mouth left hers and, dipping down, his lips slowly circled over her breast in ever-decreasing circles of tender kisses until his tongue grazed over her nipple. She cried out, her body buckling, needing the pressure of his weight, needing him. His mouth sucked on her nipple. She writhed, wanting to free her arms, wanting to touch him. He applied more pressure with his mouth. She gasped. His free hand touched her other nipple. She was already about to come apart.
‘I want you... I need you tonight, Luis,’ she whispered.
For a moment she thought he hadn’t heard her, but, lifting his head, he drew her dress back up over her breasts and he gently released her arms. He let out a sigh, touched his hand to her cheek, the passion in his eyes softening. He looked at her with such tenderness that she wanted to scream.
‘I would like that more than anything in this world, but it would be wrong—’
She interrupted him, undone by his gentleness, ‘Why? Why would it be wrong?’ She stopped and let out a bitter laugh. ‘Or am I getting what happens between us every single time we’re in each other’s company wrong?’
He considered her for a moment before asking, ‘Why now?’
Desire and emotion had her speak without thinking. ‘Because I know we have no future but that doesn’t mean we can’t have now. Because I’m about to explode with frustration and I’m so turned on by you that I actually want to cry.’ She pushed away from the tree, her heart beating, beating, beating against her chest, and added, ‘Because you make me feel safe.’
She moved to the edge of the copse but before she walked out into the open she turned and glanced at Luis. Her heart sank. He was watching her with concern, all evidence of passion and desire erased from his expression.
CHAPTER NINE
LUIS CURSED AS Lars Hendrick, an old university friend, potted the black. Placing the billiard cue back in the rack, he doled out his bet to a grinning Lars. Following the midnight fireworks the ball had ended over an hour ago and, as per tradition, all the diehard partygoers had decamped to the games rooms to continue the party with more dancing and drinking. He looked around at those out on the temporary dance floor and the loud groups chatting animatedly. He should go and join them. But instead he hung back.
Alice had said goodnight to him the moment the ball had ended. After their kiss in the woods he had caught up with her and persuaded her to ride the Ferris wheel with him, and then they had danced together again. And the whole performance had turned him inside out.
He wanted to lie naked next to her. Worship her body. But what if he hurt her?
He thought back to her gentle presence when he had spoken to his father earlier. His heart tightened. He had never thought to invite his father to his races. He had assumed he wouldn’t want to attend. But what if the real truth of not inviting him was more to do with how frightened he was that his father would throw the invite in his face? Ever since his mother had died and his father had grown angry and detached, he had been waiting and fearing his rejection. And a self-perpetuating cycle of behaviour had evolved between them where he would make a preventive strike to either force his father’s hand to push him away, or he would close down, not allowing his father any opportunity to hurt him.
The voices and music around him faded into the background as his mind became a whirl of uncomfortable thoughts. He went to the bar and fixed himself a whiskey. He didn’t want to hurt Alice by sleeping with her. But what if there was more to it than that? What if he was scared of laying his soul on the line by sleeping with her, only to have her walk away?
He closed his eyes. Rocked by his own thoughts. He opened them again, knowing that the sensible thing to do was to go out onto the dance floor and lose himself in the music and the meaningless chatter. Once again, he should run away from everything inside of him.
But instead he pushed his untouched drink away and went and climbed the stairs to the guest wing.
He stood outside her door, wondering if he should wait until morning. He was terrified. Terrified of getting this all wrong. He undid his bow tie, opened the collar of his shirt. His rational self knew that he shouldn’t be here. But his heart knew the truth. No doubt others would tell him that he was crazy, that there was no way he could feel this way so quickly. That he was only confusing his feelings for Alice with lust. He ran a hand through his hair. Dragged in a long, slow breath. And knocked on her door.
Minutes passed before she eventually answered. He took in the Our lace jersey she had changed into, her scrubbed face and the toothbrush in her hand.
She backed away, allowing him to enter. She touched the jersey. ‘I was about to go to bed...’
He wanted to take her in his arms, kiss away the beads of water lingering on her hairline from washing her face. And no matter just how adorable she looked in the soccer jersey, he wanted to lift it over her head and see for the very first time her naked body. And, despite the desperate build-up in his body, he knew he would control it enough to make love to her slowly and tenderly, needing to show her how much he worshipped her.
But there were things he needed to say first. He gestured for her to sit on the bed and he pulled a low antique bedroom chair in front of her and sat too.
She sat looking at him, he
r eyes wide, the colour in her cheeks draining.
This clearly wasn’t what she was expecting.
A whoosh of affection for her stole his words away. He touched his hand against her bare knee. He cursed once again at the large bruise on her thigh. He placed his hand over it, wanting to heal it.
He needed to talk, tell her. For a person whose school reports always contained the feedback, Luis needs to stop talking and concentrate more, and who spent his days constantly chatting, only now did he realise how little he actually said. In the past week he had spoken more honestly than he had done in his lifetime. But now, facing her, gaze to gaze, the hard shell of his true feelings cracked open—to actually share them with her felt like stepping into an abyss.
She pulled back from him, her expression growing wary. He opened his mouth, wondering what on earth he was doing. ‘I want us to make love...’
She frowned. ‘Well, it sure doesn’t—’
He interrupted her, ‘I know I’m messing this up, but there’s something you need to know first.’
She sighed. ‘There’s another woman, isn’t there?’ She said it in a teasing tone, the accusation of the past no longer there, but clearly wanting to defuse the tension between them as much as he wanted to.
‘You well know that there isn’t.’ He was finding it impossible to breathe. ‘Before we make love, I want you to know that I’m in love with you and want us to be together, to be in a relationship.’
* * *
Alice laughed. She could hear herself. She knew she should stop but something had gone wrong in her brain. A defence mechanism of some sort had gone into overdrive.
Luis was staring at her, perplexed.
No, don’t look confused. Don’t look hurt. Don’t look as though you actually meant those words. You can’t love me. You simply can’t. This is all too much. Too fast. Why are you telling me that you love me? What’s really behind those words? My dad would yank my mum’s hair until she screamed, punch her, threaten her, but then when the fury subsided he would hold her and plead his love. I don’t want to hear that you love me because I might believe you and give you my heart, only for you to destroy it. This isn’t what was supposed to happen. Laugh with me. Tell me you were only kidding.
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