by Anna Bloom
“Everything about me is a circus, Leia. You knew that the moment we met. I crept into your office, just to have some private moments with people whom I thought I could help. That should have been a good indication.”
Another nod.
“I guess me lying and paying for secrecy has made the reality worse.” He dropped his head and the little motion kicked me into action.
“So I can’t ever go home?”
He shook his head, the proud prince unable to meet my gaze. “Not with me, no. Not now.”
I wished I could make myself do something other than nod.
“And Daisy has to go to a new school, a posh one with posh people?”
“It’s probably safer. The royal family have always used St George’s.”
I knew the school he meant. Their uniform was grey and red; the smaller children wore straw boaters.
“And work?”
“You’d create a media frenzy. The press would never leave you alone.”
I stared at the wall, for the first time noticing how truly awful the pictures in frames were.
“I think maybe I should have said all this on the doorstep. That way we wouldn’t have confused Daisy by me coming in and seeing her if you changed your mind.”
I reached for his fingers and gripped them while I slid from the small sofa and knelt on the floor at his feet. My prince. The man I loved.
“So I have to give up those things?”
He nodded, just once. “Yes.”
“But I get you? You’re the prize?”
“I’m hardly a prize, Leia. The people hate me. I’ve given them nothing to like. I’ve let them down. I give them bad headlines and failed relationships, when I should be giving them optimism and hope.”
“So far.”
He lifted his face to mine, his fingers slipping along my hair, around my ear, dancing a delicate path.
“I let you in the door, Oliver. You can’t back out now.”
The left side of his mouth quirked. “You might be begging for me to leave before this is all done.”
“Come here,” my simple request lifted between us like a prayer. His gaze burned with intensity as he shifted forward and caught my hair in his hands. His fingers were strong, pulling on the strands and making me wince. I gasped into his mouth as our lips touched. Wildfire coursed through me, setting me ablaze. Using his hold on my hair he titled my head back, his kiss skimming my throat before landing back on my mouth. His tongue darted fast, claiming me.
“I’m never letting you walk away again.” I shuddered at the intensity of his words.
“I don’t want you to.”
He edged off the sofa, thigh to thigh with me. His hands released my hair and pulled at my T-shirt, dragging it over my head. My skin brushed with goosebumps as the chilled air of the room caressed my exposed flesh. I quivered: part cold, part uncontrollable desire.
My hands pulled at his clothes, tugging his jumper, fumbling over the buttons on the fly of his jeans. My desperation spoke to him because his own returning touch ached with need. I’m sure upstairs in Molly’s parents’ cottage was a perfectly acceptable bed. We weren’t going to make it that far though.
“Leia.” He pushed me back onto the rug and I grasped at him, trying to pull his skin back to mine so I wouldn’t shiver so bad. My knickers twisted around my ankles and I shook them off. His fingers slipped between my legs but I grabbed his hand and pulled it up. We’d have all the time in the world for that. Now, I needed him like I needed air. “Please.” I lifted my hips.
I arched my spine as he pushed inside me, deep and hard until it stung. “Heavenly,” he sighed. “Leia. You’re going to be the end of me.”
Lifting my hips higher I used my body to beg for more. The sensation of his skin inside me was unbelievable. His forehead dropped into the crook of my neck, his breath exhaling against my ear. Nothing could compare to the sensation of him filling me, pushing back and forth. Driving hard, driving soft. Teasing me as he pushed against all the right places.
Until he stopped.
“Oh shit. I forgot the condom.”
“What?” It took a whole three seconds for his words to even filter into the delicious buzzing in my head. “Oh no.” I pushed him out, placing my knees against his chest. “There will be no impregnating with royal spermage thank you very much.”
He chuckled softly, shaking his head and dropping a kiss onto my mouth. “I’ll take umbrage at that comment in about fifteen minutes.”
I watched with almost zealous intensity as he leant over to the side and grabbed his jeans. “Tell me,” I asked, my gaze lingering over the muscles of his back. He truly had the perfect build—for me anyway. Not too big and muscular, just slender but strong. An angel made of flesh. “Does the heir to the throne always carry condoms in his back pocket?”
His smile flashed; utterly wicked. “Just when he’s on an apology mission he hopes will end only one way.”
“And what way is that, Your Highness?”
He crawled back over, cat-like and lithe. “Me in you, and you screaming my name.”
“Your Highness?” I giggled as he nipped my neck with his teeth. His bite did strange things to my insides, made me hotter, edgier. Made me want different things. Lifting my hands above my head, I stretched in full view, giving him access to all of me.
“Say my name,” he demanded.
“Your Hi…” I didn’t get to say anything else. His lips slammed back to mine and I gasped a loud breath as he thrust back inside me. I clung on, moving with him, meeting him at every point. Claiming him as much as he claimed me. His equal in the one way no one else could be.
“I thought I dreamt you came back.” Daisy rubbed her eyes as she stood at the end of the bed.
Oliver rolled onto his side and then wiggled back to make room for her on the bed. She slipped between us and through my sleepy state I marvelled at how easy it was for her to forget who he was.
“Good dream or bad dream?” His fingers sought mine under the duvet, his warm skin squeezing tight.
“Good. We rode ponies.”
He smiled, rubbing at his jaw. The faint scratch of his stubble brought back the delectable memories of the early hours. In the lounge, on the bed in the bedroom. The lost three days had been made up for.
“Well, I don’t have a pony here, but I’m sure if you want to come back and visit Greystone with me one day, Daisy the pony would be happy to oblige.”
“Really?” The human Daisy kicked her legs under the duvet much like her four-legged counterpart.
“Sure.” Oliver stared at the ceiling, either thinking very hard, or perhaps absorbing the garish plasterwork that swirled in elaborate patterns. “This place is hideous,” he said, confirming my analysis of his thoughts. Maybe mind-reading was a thing after all. “How long exactly do you plan to stay here?” He turned slightly, his lips tilting into my favourite smile.
“Well as I was running away from you and your tabloid headlines, I guess as long as that takes to settle down.” I kept my tone light. Daisy watched us with that astute gaze she seemed to have been born with.
“True.” He nodded, a playful curve of his lips brightening the room more than the pale rising sun through the window. “How would you feel about relocating to a more suitable accommodation while Daisy recuperates?”
My gaze instantly narrowed. “Let me guess. You happen to have a castle just waiting down here.”
He smirked. “Not a castle, no.”
“I like it here.” I began to grin. “I think the decor is just wonderful. It’s got a relaxing atmosphere, and more importantly, my best friend leant it to me out of the kindness of her heart.”
“But does it have a sauna and tennis court?”
I rolled my eyes. “It has me.”
That smile on his face slowed, tightening my stomach. “That’s true. It does have perks.” He turned to Daisy. “What do you think? Do you want to stay here or come to the place I’m suggesting?”
She loo
ked between us, biting her lower lip. “We should stay here if we can. It wouldn’t be fair to Molly otherwise.”
Oliver reached over and ruffled her hair. “You are quite right,” he agreed with a shrug and looking at her with utmost seriousness. “I do think you might be a true princess. You have a heart of pure love.” Her cheeks flushed with the colour I’d been so desperate to see the last few days.
“See, Mummy, I told you so.”
“You did. You did.”
Oliver sighed, albeit dramatically. “Well if we are staying here there is nothing for it but to call security.” He glanced at me shrewdly, expecting this to be the deal breaker, but I knew better than this now. I knew what he came with. An entire package. I’d agreed to accept it, because the alternative—living without him, was unacceptable to me.
He tried again. “I’ll ask the palace to put out a statement saying I’m on holiday and request privacy,” he finished with a grumble. “Not that we will get much here.”
“We’d better get going then before people find out where you are.” I went to fling the duvet back, but his hand caught my wrist.
“I could bribe some people, make them stay quiet.” His eyes sparkled, although he danced a dangerous line in my opinion. We were not at the ‘laugh-at-my-fuck-ups stage’ yet.
“Or we could start as we mean to go on. Private, but not secret.” I leant over and pecked a chaste kiss on his lips. Despite it being only a peck, I still reacted with scorching fire and painful darts of desire. Coughing, I jumped out of bed. “And who knows, maybe people in Cornwall won’t be interested in the coming and goings of a royal prince. This isn’t London.”
He glanced at the ceiling again before looking around the rest of the room. The rest of the furniture all seemed to have some form of floral print. To be fair to him, it was a long call from the sleek and understated furnishing of his own houses.
Flowers were good though, right? Different? This was a place that had no memories for either of us. “Come on Daisy, the doctor will be here soon, and we need to get some food. I’m guessing Ollie’s picnic won’t carry us far into today.”
I gestured for Daisy to follow me out of the room so Oliver could have some privacy getting up. “Is he really staying,” she whispered as we were halfway down the stairs.
“I think so.” I nodded, trying to read her reaction. “You are happy, aren’t you?”
She nodded but I could see through her apprehension. “What’s wrong?”
“Aren’t you scared of the papers? You were angry the other day; they were saying bad things about you.”
In the kitchen I concentrated on filling the kettle up to give myself some time to think of a suitable answer. In the end I went for one hundred percent truth.
“I think it’s impossible not to love the people you do. With Ollie that comes with papers, and attention, but I know I couldn’t not love him. I tried and it hurt.” I kept my eyes on her face. “Does that make sense? I love you just as much as always.” I tapped my chest. “But I’ve got room for both of you in here now, and yes I’m scared. I want to protect you, but I know I’ll be better at being who I am with him. Even if he does like posh things and we like things a bit simple.”
I couldn’t explain it right. It didn’t come down to belongings or houses, or the possessions that filled them. It came down to the fact that he had been born to be king. I’d been born to be the girl from Hackney… but those things didn’t define who we were when we were together.
Maybe I was naïve.
Yes.
More than likely.
“Best not to mention we have the prince upstairs to the doctor?” I said as the doorbell rang.
“It can be our secret.” Daisy giggled.
Luckily, Doctor Fenwick didn’t stay long. He quickly checked Daisy over, marvelled about how quickly children bounced back and told us to carry on doing what we were doing, making sure she didn’t get overtired.
“Could we go to the beach though?”
“Yes of course. It’s only a short walk. Just don’t build too many sandcastles okay, Daisy?”
“Okay.”
I walked Doctor Fenwick to the door.
“I know you’ll be worrying but she’s doing fine. You have my number if you need it. Just makes sure she doesn’t overdo it.”
“Thank you.” I closed the door feeling a sigh of relief that Daisy was doing well.
I could sense Ollie as soon as he walked in the kitchen, despite his quiet footsteps. His gaze burned and I realised a moment too late he must have been on the stairs and heard what I said to Daisy. I met his stare and gave him a small smile and a shrug.
Sign me up for the bonkers, because I’m all down with that now.
“Come. Let’s go and get some breakfast.” He motioned us towards the front door which lead to the public, and people, and gossip.
“Breakfast? It’s almost lunchtime.” I laughed. Us all staying up watching Disney movies meant we’d lain in until mid-morning.
“Brunch then.”
“What about your team?” I asked.
He shrugged, but his face seemed to be holding a dark and deep emotion I couldn’t quite name. “I’ll take my chances. For you.”
We watched one another until Daisy broke the spell. “Well we can’t go out in our pj’s. Mummy, you know the no pj rule in public.”
I snorted loudly. “That’s the only rule that can’t be broken.”
“What? Well no one said anything like that to me! I’ve got my best button up Grandad pj’s in my bag,” Oliver exclaimed, throwing his hands up in the air. Daisy giggled as she stared at his jeans and T-shirt. Although I’m pretty sure she wasn’t looking at what held my attention under the soft material.
“So we are going out there?” I asked. “I don’t want you to be in danger though.”
He grinned. “Yep. Without Bill. What will he say?” His smile fell when he read my concern. “As you said, this isn’t London. What’s going to happen? Will some fishermen lynch me with their fishing nets?”
I chuckled and edged past him, trying to get back to the stairs where I could find some clothes that weren’t flannelette with Tweetie Pie on them. He caught me, reeling me into a hug. “I love you, Princess Leia.”
I kissed him back knowing that if anything I’d ever done should be the right thing, this was it. “And I love you, Your Highness.”
The bell to the little shop couldn’t have rung any louder to announce our arrival. Daisy pelted for the magazines, a sure sign her health had improved. She’d be sticking and cutting Disney Princesses all over the place soon. Next to the magazines were the piles of daily papers. I allowed my gaze to fall on them for one moment. The broadsheets had given up on us already. A drama in Parliament turned their attention to far more newsworthy items. The tabloids though still had a picture of me. Actually, Oliver and I, dancing at his thirtieth birthday ball. Back then I’d thought our simple and innocent dance would stop people talking. Now I knew these things, once captured, were never forgotten. I didn’t want to look at it too long, but I did take a moment just to revel in the view of his hand on the bottom of my spine; it looked sexy. He’d been able to control me with his touch alone almost since the moment we’d met. My face was away from the camera, but I could all too easily remember the way my body had scorched as his hand touched my skin. The kiss that had come later that night had changed everything.
“Are you recalling my foxtrot skills?” he whispered in my ear.
“I’m thinking about your birthday present.” I glanced at him over my shoulder. In the small shop, filled with every convenience under the sun, as well as a large volume of Cornish biscuits, he’d never looked more beautiful. More different from the rest of us mere mortals. Nothing to do with the expensive navy wool jumper, or the dark jeans. Or the fact his hair, tangled into waves flopped over his forehead. Or that the light hanging from the ceiling of the shop illuminated his freckles. But just because he was something else. Something ot
her than normal. He made me breathless.
“What can I get you?” The woman behind the till turned from where she was unpacking a cardboard box. She blinked and then she blinked again. While I waited for her to either fall to the floor, or launch herself to the phone to call someone, anyone, she could tell, she pulled herself together. “What will you both be needing today?”
Oliver stepped over and held out his hand for her to shake. “Good morning…”
He paused and waited for her to add, “Sandra.”
“Good morning, Sandra. It looks like it’s going to be a beautiful day. We were hoping to find some things for brunch.”
I don’t think a single customer had ever probably shook her hand or been so absolutely charming. His smile blinded me. This poor woman, who’d clearly rushed for the early shift, looked almost dazzled.
“Well if you want a cooked breakfast, you want to be heading down the pub, my lovey.” Fair dues to Sandra—she got a grip quicker than I did when I met him. And she didn’t call him a prick.
“The pub?” He glanced at his watch. “It’s a bit early, even for me.”
She flushed a vibrant cerise and I winced on her behalf.
“No, no, lovey, you got me wrong. Louise does the best breakfast in town.”
Oliver eyed the shop, his lips straightening a little bit. “Thing is, Sandra. I don’t really want the whole world to know where we are. The pub sounds a bit crowded.”
“Oh no. I can assure you, discretion is our motto.” She laughed, though it came out more of a cackle. “It has to be in a village this small.”
“Oh right.” His smile came back. “So you think I can take my family to the pub and no one will notice?”
Her gaze flickered over me. He said what? His family? As if on cue, Daisy skipped up with about five magazines wedged in her small hand.
“I’ll call ahead.”
“That would be most kind, Sandra.” He unleashed the full wattage of his charm offensive in her direction. Her eyes widened. “Also, we might go down to the beach after, so we’ll need snacks and drinks…”
“I’ll get you a basket of picnic-type things ready.” Her hand slid to her throat where the skin flushed with pink.
