by I. T. Lucas
A fine time he'd chosen to show up.
It must've been a deliberate move on his part to catch her alone. Her parents, her brother Norman—the crown prince of their small monarchy—and his pregnant wife Muriel were all visiting Muriel's parents.
Annabel had been left in charge. Normally not a problem since the council was running most things anyway. Except, she could've used her parents and brother as a shield from Thorsten.
Annabel knew precisely what had pissed him off enough to make him travel all the way from Algenia's capital to her hill. Only, she hadn't expected it to matter to him so much. In any case, she was going to play it dumb and pretend that she had no idea why he was paying her a visit, while at the same time softening him up with her gracious hosting.
"It's okay, Mary," she said while removing the soiled apron and tossing it aside. "Go back down and have Cook prepare a picnic basket for two. Find the finest bottle of wine and put it in there. Also, a blanket or two to sit on and maybe a couple of pillows."
Mary wrung her hands. "But, my lady, the prince is on his way, and I can't leave you alone with him. It's unseemly."
The girl was absolutely right. But if Thorsten had come to yell at her, Annabel didn't want witnesses. "Don't worry about impropriety, Mary. The prince and I are childhood friends. I have nothing to fear from him."
If only she believed it…
As a boy, Thorsten had been a bit too cocky, but he’d also been easy to smile and fun to be with. Except, he’d grown up into a harsh and merciless man. Or at least that was what she’d heard. They hadn’t seen each other in years.
Mary curtsied. "As you wish, my lady. I'll be as quick as I can."
Please don't.
"I want the picnic to be worthy of the prince, Mary. Rushing Cook is only going to stress her out, and she’s going to burn something. Let her do things at her own pace."
Mary curtsied again. "Yes, my lady.” Lifting her skirts, she scurried downhill at a trot.
“Be careful!” Annabel yelled after her.
Silly girl was going to sprain an ankle, or worse.
Nervous butterflies taking flight in her belly, Annabel smoothed her hand over her hair, hoping there weren’t too many flyaways. She’d put it in a simple braid to keep it away from her face, and it wasn’t the most flattering hairdo for her.
She remembered that Thorsten had liked her hair loose around her shoulders and spilling down her back, but she’d been a little girl then, not a grown woman who was supposed to take greater care with her appearance.
Oh, well. It was too late to do anything about it now. Besides, she didn’t have a comb or a mirror to fix herself up.
A few moments later, Thorsten’s head crested the hill, and his expression was just as pissed off as she'd expected. What she hadn't anticipated, though, was how incredibly handsome he'd become.
The years had been kind to her childhood crush.
She curtsied. "Hello, your Highness. What a pleasant surprise. What brings you to our modest monarchy?"
"Drop the pretense, Annabel. You know exactly why I'm here. Why didn't you answer the summons? Each and every one of the princesses did, even those who are not of age yet. All except you."
Lowering her eyes, she curtsied again. "I meant no offense, your Highness. I'm truly sorry if my lack of response was construed as such. The truth is that I didn’t think of myself as worthy of such an honor. The future queen of Algenia should be someone more refined and sophisticated than simple me." Or want the position, which Annabel most definitely did not, her childhood infatuation with the crown prince notwithstanding.
The last time she'd spent time with Thorsten, he was fifteen and treated her like a little sister, and she was ten and had a huge crush on him.
But a lot had changed over the past nine years. Thorsten's older sister had abdicated her title as crown princess, and Thorsten had been forced to take over. Preparing for his new role had superseded all of his prior personal interests and friendships, and since then everything he had done was as the Crown Prince of Algenia.
The Thorsten she'd known had ceased to exist.
Annabel had changed too. She wasn't a naive young girl anymore, infatuated with an older boy who, for some inexplicable reason, had shown some mild interest in his best friend’s little sister.
Besides, the only reason Thorsten was looking for a bride was his mother's health. The queen wished to step down in favor of her son, but the law demanded that he marry and produce an heir first.
Annabel didn't want to be anyone's broodmare.
In fact, she didn't want to marry at all. Her older brother was the crown prince of their tiny monarchy, and therefore his wife had come to live with him in the palace. Annabel would have to move to her future husband's court, and she didn’t want to do that. She loved her country. Leaving it and her family would be heartbreaking. If being a spinster was the price she had to pay for staying in the home she loved, Annabel was more than willing to do so.
The worst possible future was marrying Thorsten. Not only because the boy she’d fancied had turned into a harsh man with a reputation of a brute, but because playing queen of Algenia, with all of its court politics and intrigue, was her personal definition of hell.
"What's wrong with you, Annabel? Every girl in all the known monarchies dreams of becoming the future queen of Algenia."
"I don't.” She lifted her chin. “Therefore, I must be addle-minded and unsuitable for the position." That was actually not a bad strategy.
She should’ve thought of it earlier and made sure to spread rumors about her eccentricity. They wouldn’t have been a lie either. Everyone thought she was weird for refusing suitors and remaining single at nineteen.
Thorsten shook his head. "You were always smart. Too smart for your own good. Even at ten, you were never caught without a witty comeback."
It was a polite way to put it. Others thought that her outspoken attitude was rude or even flippant.
Annabel waved her hand as if he'd just proven her point. "Not something you want from your future queen."
"On the contrary." He sat down on a boulder, his muscular thighs bulging as he spread them wide to keep his balance. "Come over here, Annabel." He patted his thigh.
Had he lost his mind? Expecting her to sit on his knee? She wasn't ten years old anymore.
Crossing her arms over her chest, Annabel lifted her chin. "I will do no such thing."
The smile slid off Thorsten's handsome face, replaced by a stern expression that was frightening but at the same time oddly arousing. "When I tell you to do something, Annabel, I expect you to obey immediately and without question."
That should’ve angered her, not aroused her.
Damn, what is wrong with me? Why is Thorsten's brutish arrogance making me tingle in all the wrong places?
The power in his commanding voice had affected her in the strangest way. It must’ve addled her brain because she felt compelled to do as the prince had commanded. Baffled, Annabel took a couple of steps toward him, but she then shook her head to break the spell he must’ve cast over her and stopped.
She wasn't some blushing chambermaid to be ordered by the prince. She was a princess. "You forget, your Highness, that I'm not one of your subjects. There is no law that says I have to obey you."
His smile was chillingly wicked. "Oh, but there is. As my future wife, you are my subject."
In a swift move that caught her completely by surprise, Thorsten reached for her hand and pulled, upending her over his outstretched knees.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Annabel shrieked, pushing with all her might against his thigh to get off him.
"What I've been craving to do for the past nine years." He pushed her back down and lifted her skirts, exposing her naked behind.
She thrashed harder. "Stop it, you brute, let me up."
"Only after I punish you for ignoring the summons and insulting me." He smacked her upturned behind. "My country." Another smack. "
And my mother, the queen of Algenia."
Thinking that was it, Annabel pushed up again. But he wasn't nearly done. As a volley of smacks landed on her naked bottom, she was stunned into silence.
Thorsten wasn't hurting her, not really. She knew he could do much worse and was merely toying with her, but the entire episode was surreal. And strangely arousing…
She remained outstretched over his knees even after he'd stopped and had begun caressing the barely there sting away.
In a raspy voice that betrayed his own arousal, Thorsten whispered, "You have the most beautiful bottom I’ve ever had the pleasure of spanking."
That statement had her up in an instant. For some reason, Thorsten's hand on her bottom bothered her much less than than the thought of his hand on another woman's backside.
She didn't get far, though. He held on to her hand and pulled her back to sit on his lap, just as he'd intended from the start. Annabel wanted to protest, but he wrapped his arms around her and shut her up by kissing the living daylights out of her.
All rational thought was obliterated by the onslaught of sensations. Thorsten's lips were soft and yet firm, his tongue coaxing and insistent at the same time, his large hands on her back warm and strong.
God, he was setting her on fire.
"What are you doing to me?" she murmured as he let her come up for air.
"Convincing you to be my wife."
She chuckled. "That's a very strange way to go about it. Most men bring flowers. You spanked me."
He kissed her nose. "Because, my dear Annabel, I knew that you would enjoy that more than flowers."
"I did not." Yes, she did. But she wasn't going to admit it. Never.
And what was more, how could he have known that when she herself hadn’t?
"We will discuss the consequences of lying at a later time." Thorsten assumed his stern demeanor again, but there was laughter in his eyes.
“Oh, yeah? What do you have in mind?”
He didn’t have a chance to answer because of the heavy huffing and puffing that announced Mary and another maid’s approach. Lifting her off his lap, Thorsten straightened her rumpled skirt.
A moment later, Mary and Ida climbed to the top of the hill, hauling between them a huge picnic basket.
6
Beautiful, witty, and feisty.
Thorsten had adored Annabel as a little girl. As a woman, she was everything he could’ve ever wanted in a wife and more.
The best part was that she didn't want him. As strange as it seemed, her refusal had lifted a weight off his chest.
When his mother had announced her intention to step down, forcing him to choose a wife, the first and only woman that had come to his mind was Annabel.
Every day since the summons had been issued to all eligible princesses and high-born ladies, requesting them to submit their candidacy, he'd been waiting to get Annabel's. And with each passing day that it hadn't arrived his ire had risen.
It had been a blatant show of disrespect, but he knew it hadn't been her parents' doing. The king and queen of Mondera would have never dared to risk alienating their protector and the most powerful monarchy in the region.
The angrier he'd become, the more he'd suspected it was a ploy to get his attention. Just another form of manipulation. He was so sick of it. The length to which some of those princesses and their families had gone in order to gain his favor or at least get his attention had been astounding.
But Annabel truly didn't want to be queen.
Which meant that if he succeeded in winning her over, it would be as Thorsten the man and not Thorsten the future king of Algenia.
After the two young maids put down the heavy basket, which was the size of a travel trunk, Annabel untied the bundle that was strapped to the taller one’s back, and together they spread a thick woolen blanket over the ground. Two sizable pillows went on top to make sitting more comfortable.
Watching Annabel help the maids reinforced Thorsten’s impression of her. She wasn’t a spoiled princess who was content to be served. Not that he would allow her to do such things when she was his queen. There were liberties a princess could take but a queen couldn’t.
After that was done, the maids started pulling one dish after the other from the basket and arranging everything on the blanket as nicely as they could.
There was enough food there to feed a troop of soldiers. Thorsten hoped his guard was taken care of, and that accommodations had been found for them in the barracks. Rushing to see Annabel, he hadn’t stuck around to check.
"Thank you." Annabel knelt on the blanket, rearranged her skirts around her legs, and sat down.
The maids took a few steps back, looking lost as to what to do next. Shifting from foot to foot and wringing their hands, they waited for their lady's instructions.
"That will be all, thank you. You can go back." Annabel waved her hand, shooing them off.
"But, my lady… " one of them started.
"You heard the princess. Do as you're told," he barked at them.
Blushing, the one who'd spoken stammered, "Yes, your Highness. I'm so sorry, your Highness."
They both curtsied and scampered away.
Annabel narrowed her eyes at him. "Are you always so rude to the help?"
Thorsten reached for the platter of grilled chicken, cut the bird down the middle, and loaded Annabel's plate first and then his. "They shouldn't question your commands. Perhaps in your case it's not as crucial, but imagine me in the same position. What kind of a ruler would I be if my servants answered my demands with a 'but'? Or imagine my soldiers questioning my orders."
After a moment of mulling it over, she nodded. "You're right. I apologize. You and I live by very different rules."
"Not for long." He winked.
"About that. I really would make a lousy queen, Thorsten. I hate court politics. I hate stuck-up people. I hate smiling when I don't feel like it. And I hate being the center of attention."
"So do I. So what?"
"Since when? As I remember, you love being the center of attention."
"Granted, I don't mind that. But I hate all the rest. Therefore, I don't smile when I don't feel like it, and as soon as I'm crowned, I'm going to get rid of all the conniving, manipulative vermin infesting my court."
Annabel looked at him with horror in her eyes. "Are you going to kill them all?"
Damn it. The rumors that vermin had been spreading about him painted Thorsten in very unflattering colors. "No, I'm not going to kill them. Kicking them out of the palace grounds will do. Don't believe all the nasty rumors they've been spreading about me."
He often wondered about their agenda. What purpose did it serve to make him appear as a brute?
If they thought his sister would reconsider, they were wrong. Granted, Amelia was a much more amiable and pleasant person than he was, and they probably thought she would be easier to manipulate, but that was precisely the reason she’d abdicated. The official reason was her wishing to wed a wealthy merchant and not a prince, but their mother had been more than willing to amend that law for her, allowing Amelia to marry her chosen. His sister insisted that the law remain in effect.
She simply didn’t want to rule, and frankly, he couldn’t fault her for that. If they had a third sibling, Thorsten would have gladly foisted the succession on him or her.
Looking down at her plate, Annabel cut a piece out of the chicken. "Some of the rumors are true," she murmured.
"Which ones?"
To avoid looking at him, she cut another piece. "That you're a brute with women."
He chuckled. "I haven’t heard any complaints."
Finally, she lifted her head and pinned him with a hard stare. "You're the crown prince, Thorsten. Of course, no one would dare complain."
Frustrated to no end, Thorsten ran his fingers through his hair. People were so quick to believe the worst of him. But he'd thought Annabel was smarter than that.
"There is only so much a woman can fak
e. Some responses can't be manufactured, and they tell the truth."
He would've said more, but Annabel seemed so innocent. She probably had no idea about what went on between a man and a woman in bed.
"You spanked me. That's brutish."
"You call that a spanking? It was a patting. Does your bottom even sting?"
She wiggled, and he wondered if the cause was discomfort or arousal.
"Not anymore. But it was humiliating."
"You were aroused."
Averting her eyes didn't help hide the crimson blush that spread over her porcelain skin. She neither confirmed nor denied, choosing to say nothing. She would make a fine diplomat.
"Don't be embarrassed, sweetheart. It's natural."
"No, it's not."
Sweet, naive Annabel. There was so much more he could teach her. Thorsten was looking forward to many delightful educational nights.
7
Annabel shook her head. It couldn’t have been the stupid spanking that had aroused her. There was no way it could've had such an effect on her. Being touched by Thorsten had done it. She was a grown woman, and what had been a young girl's infatuation had turned into a physical attraction. His hand had touched her naked bottom, the first male hand to ever touch her intimately. No wonder she’d reacted like that.
"I know what I'm talking about, Annabel. I'm not a novice at this."
"I bet." She could just imagine how many women he'd been with.
He must’ve heard the sarcasm in her tone. "Those days are over. From now on, you are the only one for me."
As if she was going to believe that. Fidelity among royalty wasn't common. Her brother seemed wholly devoted to his wife, but he might be the exception. She refused to even think about her own parents. Hopefully, they were an exception too.
"You assume too much, your Highness. I didn't agree to be your wife. "
Thorsten's expression darkened, and before she realized his intentions, he lifted her up and pulled her onto his lap.
Too close.
