Off-Limits to the Crown Prince

by Kali Anthony

  As she sketched the scene she became aware of movement nearby. She turned to a young boy who’d crept up beside her as she drew. Hannah smiled.

  ‘Hello. What’s your name?’

  The boy’s eyes widened, and she realised he might not be able to speak English. She pulled out her phone and searched for a translation app. ‘Come ti chiami?’

  He laughed, probably at her parlous pronunciation. ‘Giulio.’

  ‘Hello, Giulio. My name is Hannah.’ She patted her chest.

  He gave a tentative smile, then pointed to the page where she’d sketched Alessio. She didn’t know what to say. Their barrier was language, but her art spoke a language all of its own. Hannah turned to another fresh page and considered the blank wall and what kind of mural she’d put there, then began sketching.

  ‘Watch,’ she said to the dark-eyed waif, who’d now pulled up a little plastic child’s chair to sit beside her. And she drew a field of grass and flowers. A teddy bear’s picnic, with all the kinds of fairy-tale foods the children might love. Ice cream, incredible towers of jelly, cakes. Not a vegetable to be seen. Bears playing, flying kites, including one which had been blown away on a strong gust of wind, and the bear holding it sailing into the sky with others trying to pull it down.

  The little boy next to her laughed, and the sound spurred her on. She began mapping out a few ideas, losing herself in the fun of creating a joyous space, something better than this, something to make the children less fearful. Soon she had a small audience watching her. Children with wide eyes and wider smiles. What more could she draw for them? She didn’t really watch television, didn’t go to see movies, and had no nieces and nephews, being an only child, so wasn’t sure what children liked. That sense of isolation pricked at her. Most of the time she didn’t really feel lonely, not with her art. It was as if she were always in the presence of the person whose portrait she painted. Immersed in them, kept company by their picture and her understanding of them as a person. Today, she was overwhelmed by the knowledge there was only her. She looked up at Alessio, talking to some of the nurses. He was alone too. Did he ever have the sense of it, a kind of emptiness, or did duty fill the spaces?

  He glanced over in her direction, almost like he knew she was watching him. As he took in the children surrounding her, a look crossed his face. Something intense, not implacable at all. The potency of that moment ignited those flickering embers deep inside. Then a child touched her arm and pointed at the page. She laughed because she knew they wanted her to keep drawing, so she turned her attention to the sketch pad once more. Alessio wasn’t safe. The children were. Looking at the boy who’d first come to her, with his dark curls and eyes, Hannah began to sketch him, a little caricature. It was how she had first started with her art. Doodling in class, drawing friends, till her parents had died and the obsession overtook her, that her memory of their faces might fade. So she’d drawn them incessantly, etching them into her brain so she would never forget.

  A shadow crossed her page as she was almost done. A shiver of awareness shimmied down her spine. There was only one person it could be.

  ‘You have a crowd.’ Alessio’s voice was as warm as the summer’s day outside, heating her as if she’d stepped into the midday sunshine.

  She tore herself from her drawings and their gazes caught and held. Her pulse took off at a gallop, the wild beat only for him. ‘Is your ego coping with the lack of attention?’

  He did nothing for a heartbeat, then burst out laughing. It was as if happiness had exploded into the room. Everyone stared at him. The princely Alessio was a foreboding force. The passionate man in bed a study in absolute focus. But this man, laughing and real, showing his human side for the first time since she’d known him—this man was a danger. The type of man who could break a woman’s heart.

  Except there was nothing left to break. She’d lost her heart years ago on the day she’d lost everything. She’d encased it in a protective cage and now nothing could get through to harm it ever again. Hannah ignored those musings, and simply took in the man smiling at her in his own blinding way.

  ‘You’re a woman who’s hard for my ego every day. But I’m sensible enough to know who the real talent is here. It’s not me.’

  ‘It’s not me either—it’s the health professionals.’

  The burnt umber of his eyes smouldered like brown coal on fire as the look on his face softened, darkened. She knew it well, having seen it in his bedroom the night before. A shiver of longing coursed through her. Her cheeks heated as she remembered the pleasure, the delicious aches which remained. The memory of Alessio and his body over her. Inside her. Did it show on her face? Because naked desire was written all over his. But it had only been for one night. They’d agreed, and, as much as she craved more of him, she knew she’d only take what life gave her rather than ask for more. Since in the main, if she wanted more, life slapped her down in the cruellest possible ways.

  ‘They are indeed. What are you doing there?’ He nodded to the pages on which she’d drawn.

  ‘I had some ideas to brighten up the ward, make it a more welcoming place for the children.’

  The doctor who’d spoken to her earlier approached. ‘Signorina Barrington suggested some murals. As you know, Your Highness, we talked of the ward becoming more welcoming. Less clinical.’

  Alessio glanced at his watch, at Stefano, who began to approach. ‘That’s an excellent idea. I’ll ensure there’s a place in the budget. Anything for the children.’

  He crouched down on his haunches. Said something to the children surrounding her. A slightly older boy answered back.

  ‘Do you know any superheroes?’ Alessio asked.

  Hannah smiled. ‘I’m sure I can think of a few. Does he want me to draw some?’

  Alessio nodded. Even in this position, he ruled the room like the Prince he was. His gaze dropped to her mouth and lingered there. His lips parted as if he was going to say something more, but no words came. Those perfectly drawn lips of his had spent the night exploring her body in the most exquisite of ways, finding places she didn’t know could give her pleasure. Yet Alessio had seemed to find them all.

  ‘I—I should get started, then.’

  She scribbled on the page with shaky fingers. The children seemed enthralled, and she was too, but by the man blazing in front of her. His nostrils flared. Did he know what she was thinking about? Was he thinking the same? It couldn’t go anywhere, so better not to dwell on it at all.

  They held each other like that for a few moments, their gazes clashing. Then Stefano approached and cleared his throat. Alessio stood, the break between them almost more painful than waking this morning to find herself alone.

  ‘We should go. You have a meeting with the Health Minister.’

  It was said in English for her benefit, she was sure. The children clamoured around Alessio as he moved to leave, making obvious noises of disappointment as they were ushered back to bed by the staff. All Hannah could do was watch his back as he walked away from her, as if she’d ceased to exist.

  * * *

  Alessio walked through the maze-like corridors of the hospital exquisitely aware of the woman trailing behind him, whom he could feel as if she were touching him. The flush on her cheeks. Her wide eyes. Those lips of hers a cherry blush. She had the look of a woman well-loved, as if she’d suddenly come into herself.

  It had been all he could do to leave his bed this morning. To gather his clothes, the evidence they’d been together. To shower, scrub his body and try to wash her away. Yet he had failed. Nothing could wash away the memory of her sighs, her skin, so soft under his fingers.

  Then with the children... How they’d flocked to her, her natural charm and grace drawing them in like the sunshine on a spring day, something beautiful and warm, welcoming. In a pretty blue dress with dark hair spilling unrestrained over her shoulders, she looked like every fantasy
drawn to life. For those fleeting moments in her presence he didn’t see problems, but possibilities, where his life only had one course. Right now he should let her join Stefano in the car behind his and travel to the palace by himself. Yet he was tired. Tired of the feeling his journey was one which should always be taken alone, with no one to share it with. For a moment he allowed himself to want without guilt.

  ‘Signorina Barrington comes with me. I wish to know more about her ideas for the children’s ward.’

  ‘Do I need to ask again?’ Stefano murmured.

  Do you know what you’re doing?

  Alessio cut him off. ‘No.’

  The word left his mouth with barely a thought, and once uttered he would not take it back. He never did. Yet the truth screamed loud in his head. He didn’t know what he was doing. He should be far away from her. Travelling with her was a breach of a self-imposed protocol.

  And right now, he didn’t care.

  Stefano gave a small bow, the merest of smiles on his face. His eyebrow rose a fraction once more, the expression of amusement seeming to have become almost a permanent fixture Alessio had seen it so often over the past days. He wouldn’t explain because none of this was explicable. His driver opened the door of the car and Hannah slipped into the back seat with him. Clipped on her seatbelt and looked out of the window. The car slid away from the rear of the hospital, starting the journey towards the palace.

  ‘You were wonderful with the kids,’ Hannah said, her voice soft and almost wistful.

  ‘So were you.’ They’d flocked to her, with her drawings of them, cartoon characters and everything in between. Those unwell children giggling with delight at the things she drew.

  ‘They’re an easy audience.’

  Her smile lit up the interior of the car. Something in his chest clenched, the whole of him too hot and tight. They’d agreed on one night, that it was enough, yet he hadn’t realised one night with her could never be enough. There was nothing experienced about her, but Hannah’s innocence and naked enthusiasm were like a drug that had him craving. He might never erase the memories from his room, which seemed ridiculous, yet no other woman had ever graced his bed at the palace. He dreaded the anticipation of lonely nights when she left. Craving to take his fill now, whilst he could.

  His palms itched, wanting to touch, determined not to. Yet his resolve failed as she kept speaking. All he thought about was her natural beauty and how the children clambered over her as if she were a pied piper. As if she were some kind of saviour.

  ‘There are so many ways you could help them. A mural would be a beautiful addition to the ward. It would brighten their lives, especially the little ones who need to stay there a long time. I have so many ideas.’

  The cabin of the vehicle closed in on him, compressing to a pinpoint that was only them, as if the rest of the world didn’t exist. He loosened his tie, now too tight round his neck. He needed to get out of this small space so he could breathe, so he could think. Even the journey back to the palace felt too long. And, since there was a driver up front, there was nothing he could do here. Yet he kept a small office in the capital, a well-guarded secret, and they were only minutes away from it.

  ‘Manuel, please take us to the city office.’

  ‘Of course, Your Highness.’

  A few deviations and they arrived, driving through a gated archway and into an internal courtyard. The car stopped and Alessio didn’t wait for his driver. He opened the door himself and stepped out into the baking summer’s heat.

  Hannah frowned. ‘Are you leaving?’

  He peered into the cabin where she sat, her teeth biting into her bottom lip. ‘No. We have things to discuss. I have an office. It’s private.’

  Her mouth opened but she didn’t reply. Merely nodded and followed him from the car. The few staff who ran the premises in his absence scrambled as he entered unannounced. He smiled at them, but it felt more rictus than genuine, each second not alone with Hannah a moment wasted. With introductions over he flung back the door of his office, and she followed him inside. He closed it behind her. Stood in the cool silence and could breathe again.

  ‘What do you want to discuss, Your Highness?’

  He wheeled around, hating that this formality had returned. He’d been wrong in the way he’d treated her this morning. Especially when the desire still ran rich and hot through his veins, calling him out as a liar for pretending what had happened between them was nothing. And, whilst he might lie to himself, he couldn’t lie to her.

  ‘Is once enough for you?’

  Hannah’s eyes darkened, pupils black in the oceanic green. He’d seen them look the same as she’d come apart underneath him in his bed, beautiful and wide with desire matching his own. Her lips parted as a flush crept from her throat. ‘Never.’

  ‘Good, because I want more.’ His voice was a hiss through clenched teeth at the agony of need unfulfilled. More a command than a request. Harsh and low. Clotted with desire.

  Who stepped first, he couldn’t have said. They fell into each other, his hands thrust into her silken locks of hair. Lips on hers, hard and fast. She clung to his shoulders, their tongues touching, and he moved back to a large sofa in the corner. Dropped into it with her straddling his hips, rocking forward on the hardness of him as he groaned into her mouth. He slid his hands to her buttocks, drawing her even closer, hiking up the skirt of her dress till he could grab at the soft, pale skin of her thighs. She quivered under his palms as he moved back in the seat a little and slid a finger between them, her underwear damp with evidence of her arousal. He rubbed over her most sensitive spot. Light touches that had her panting and squirming against him, holding her on a cruel edge. Tormenting her in the way she had unknowingly tormented him by merely existing, the noises she made increasingly desperate. He didn’t care. He wanted her to beg for her pleasure, here in his office, where they could both lose their minds.

  He was agonisingly hard now. Her heat was against him, relentless and brutal. He’d been unprepared. He had no protection. The pulse of need drove him on, but as much as he craved to release himself and slide into the wet heat of her, he wouldn’t. The risk to her as much as to him was too great. This journey could lead nowhere permanent. But pleasure was something they could give one another. He had nothing on this afternoon he couldn’t cancel. They could spend it in his rooms once back at the palace, or in hers. It didn’t matter, so long as he was inside her.

  Hannah let out a groan. A curse. A plea.

  ‘Ah, bella. Am I neglecting you?’ The words were said against her gasping mouth. He slid two fingers inside her, curled them to reach the sensitive spot he knew drove her wild. Worked his thumb over the tight bundle of nerves at the juncture of her thighs as her breath held, the whole of her drawn tight as a bow till she broke apart around him, her shuddering body letting him know she’d tumbled over the edge, moaning his name as her spasms went on and on, clenching round his fingers. With a final flutter she sagged into him. He withdrew from her, wrapped Hannah tight in his arms. His own body, so hard and aching, objected to the way she nestled into him, screaming for its own release. Yet he did nothing, giving her this time. After a few moments relaxed in his arms she stirred, rocked against him again. He gasped as a bright burst of pleasure exploded through him.

  ‘What about you?’ Her voice was a sigh against his neck, feathering over his skin. She pulled back, her eyes soft, dreamy. Skin flushed a delicate pink. Mouth plump and well-kissed.

  What he wouldn’t give to forget being a prince, forget the consequences, take for himself and be damned. But that would make him like his father, and he was not that man.

  ‘I didn’t come prepared for this.’

  ‘You wouldn’t make a very good boy scout, then, would you?’

  He chuckled, even though the ache in his groin intensified as she voiced her need to give him pleasure as well. Too often people
had been prepared to take from him. Someone considering his true desires seemed like hedonism at its finest.

  ‘It’s something I’ve never considered. Being Prince of Lasserno, others tend to prepare for me.’

  The corners of her plush, kiss-reddened lips curled into a wicked smile. She leaned forward, her voice a whisper in his ear. ‘Luckily I have a few ideas for how I can help, Your Highness.’

  A quake ran through him at the sound of his title spoken with her low, intent voice. It was almost a taunt but he didn’t care. She pulled back, and with trembling fingers Hannah worked at his belt buckle, the closure on his trousers, the zip. Then her cool hand reached into his underwear and took him out. He stifled a groan. Almost lost control in that moment, unable to tear his gaze away as she tightened her grip and worked him the way he’d shown her the night before. Damn, if they weren’t going to make a mess here and right now, but he didn’t care. Gone mad with a feverish desire that nothing bar her would satisfy. Then Hannah moved from his lap, dropped to her knees on the floor before him. Loosened the relentless grip and stroking which had him close to the edge and almost tumbling over.

  ‘I don’t really know what I’m doing—you’ll have to guide me.’

  Alessio frowned, not sure what she was talking about until she dropped her head, and the warmth of her breath caressed a sliver of flesh at his stomach. He jerked in her hand as the knowledge of what she was about to do coursed through him like an electric current.

  ‘Devour me like you’ve never been hungrier in your life,’ he groaned.

  She looked up at him, eyes that intense rockpool green, dark and still. With depths he could never fathom. A wicked smile played at the corners of her perfect mouth. ‘Just remember, I’m not going to stop.’

  She took him into the heat of her mouth. His brain blanked with white noise roaring in his ears. Hannah was tentative till he moaned, and her efforts became intense. Determined. His hand tangled into her hair, guiding her, but there was no need. She followed his instructions to a perfection belying her inexperience. He was close, so close, feeling the tingling at the base of his spine, the heaviness, the tightening in his groin. He held on but the vision of her worshipping him like this, because that was how it seemed, drove him to the edge of control. She wanted him as much as he wanted her. Of that, he had no doubt. And her words, ‘I’m not going to stop...’ ran on repeat. Like an endless loop in his head, winding him tighter and higher.