The Princess's Forbidden Lover

by Clare Connelly

  What the hell is wrong with you! He mentally berated himself, pushing a little further. She dug her nails into his shoulder and arched her hips, as an instinctive dance weaved through her soul. The movements were familiar because of her femininity and her rightness to marry her body to his.

  She moaned as he thrust deeper, finally reaching the barrier to her womanhood and discarding it easily. Her face squeezed for a moment in obvious pain and Will swore softly.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered against her ear.

  “Don’t. I’m fine.” She bit down on her lip, waiting for the discomfort to subside. It did, and quickly. So quickly that Lilah wondered what on earth she’d spent her life waiting for.

  Pleasure soaked through her. As her muscles squeezed tight around his length and he began to massage every single nerve fibre in her most feminine core, delight and sexual fulfillment oozed through her. “This is perfect,” she assured him, as wave after wave of desire flooded her system.

  He couldn’t speak. His possession of her was absolute. He had taken her virginity; he would always be her first. But she had marked him in some way too. Something raw and vulnerable was being ripped open. He felt exposed and complete.

  He pushed the analysis aside; there would be time to think later, as she’d said. In that moment, he wanted only to feel. He moved slowly, watching her to discover what pleased her most. He felt the moment her sanity began to break away. The pleasure was becoming terrifying to her and he kissed her deeply as an orgasm ripped through the cosmos of her being.

  “It’s too much,” she sobbed and he kissed her still, tasting the saltiness of her tears and the sweetness of her mouth.

  “It’s just enough for you.” He held her until her breathing began to return to normal, and then he began to stoke her fires once more, pushing renewed delight into her body.

  “Will!” She dug her nails into his back and dragged them over his flesh, scoring marks of possession in line with his spine.

  “I know.”

  His own control was waning. He didn’t know how he’d held on as long as he had. But he didn’t want it to be over. He doubted he would ever have his fill of this woman.

  He thrust into her hard and she bucked against him in response, crying out as her orgasm began to devour her. He made a sound of surrender and finally spilled himself into her, pulsing and throbbing into the sweet embrace of her warmth.

  He collapsed on top of her for a moment, their breath mingling as their limbs tangled and their moment of sensual insanity ebbed away into the cold recesses of the cabin.

  “Wow.”

  A smile etched across his face as he pushed onto his elbows. “How do you feel?”

  She was so beautiful. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes sparkled. “Just … wow.”

  He laughed. “Stay here.”

  “Don’t even think about leaving me.”

  But he did. He slowly pulled himself from her, mistaking her wince for a look of pain. “I hurt you.”

  “No.” She bit down on her lip. “I just feel so empty without …”

  He felt as though someone was compressing his chest. “I’ll be back.”

  Now Lilah laughed. “Like The Terminator?”

  He nodded. “Exactly.”

  She watched his progress as he crossed the cabin then collapsed back against the pillows. Her breathing was still forced. She stared at the ceiling. There were just timber beams that formed the shape of the roof. Her eyes followed the lines, wondering about the men who’d built this place briefly, before her attention was pulled sharply back to the reality of what they’d just done.

  It had been amazing.

  Far more perfect than she could ever have anticipated.

  And though she had no benchmark, she doubted that her first time would have been as special with any other man.

  There was something about Will, and this rustic cabin amplified his raw appeal. Her cheeks hurt from smiling. She stood, gingerly, her body still buzzing with beautiful feelings of pleasure and satisfaction, and tiptoed through the cabin.

  She peered around the bathroom door, and the sight that greeted her caused her heart to swell unbearably. Will was crouching down, lighting perhaps the tenth candle in the bathroom, singing softly under his breath. And a blessed bath was running. The water was steaming against the frigid air.

  “You have a beautiful voice.”

  He lifted his head quickly, his eyes running over her naked form with a look of unmistakable ownership.

  “I told you to stay in bed.”

  She grinned. “I was curious.”

  “Why am I not surprised?” He softened the remark with a smile and stood. Now it was Lilah’s turn to study him. He was better than any Greek God; he was a picture of masculinity and virility. She had no doubt he could scale any building, swim any river, kill any beast and outrun a sand tiger. He was pure male sex-appeal.

  She swallowed as her eyes dragged down his body and then back to his face. His smile was indulgent. “See something you like?”

  Her nod was jerky.

  Will groaned softly as he moved towards her, wrapping his arms around her waist. “What am I going to do about you, Jalilah Mazroui?”

  “Me? What do you mean?”

  “I told you there was danger here,” he said cryptically, kissing the top of her head. “Don’t you feel it?”

  “I … I feel nothing but happy right now,” she said honestly, tilting her pretty face towards his.

  “But what will you feel tomorrow? Or the day after? What will you feel when the time comes for us to return to the city?”

  A shadow flicked across her features. “Don’t think of it.”

  His smile was forced. “I won’t if you won’t.” He pulled on her hand gently, guiding her to the bath. “Care for a bath?”

  “You will join me.” It was said in such a haughty, commanding tone that he laughed.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “I’m sorry,” she winced. “Old habits. Will you join me?” She rephrased her command subtly, her eyes enormous as she stared up at him.

  “I will.” He stepped into the bath and pressed his back against the porcelain of the bath. She stepped in afterwards, seating herself between his legs. It was not a large tub, and the only way to be comfortable was for Lilah to lean against his chest. Her breasts formed perfect circles in the top of the water. Will was hard again, with the feel of her skin and the sight of her naked body, caramel against the cream of the bath.

  They sat in such a way for almost ten minutes, breathing in unison without speaking, simply feeling the lapping of the warm water, admiring the view beyond of the heavily wooded area capped with crisp white snow.

  “Are you –,”

  “You said –,” She paused and laughed. “Sorry, you were saying?”

  “You go,” he demurred, dribbling water over her legs.

  She leaned back towards him, an enigmatic smile curving her lips. “What is this place?”

  “This place? It’s a national park.”

  “I mean this cabin. You said it belongs to a friend of yours?”

  And even though she couldn’t see him, she could feel his shift in emotions. There was a powerful connection between them. She understood his silence as though he’d spoken.

  “Yeah.” He cleared his throat. “One of the guys I met on my fifth assignment. We were in Iraq.”

  “Is he still there?” She prompted, though a heavy weight in her heart was warning her that this was not a happy story.

  “He died.” The words were as hard to say as ever. “Six months ago.”

  “I’m sorry.” Lilah pressed her hands into his thighs, squeezing him reassuringly. “I’m so sorry.”

  He dipped his head in acknowledgement.

  “What happened?”

  “It was a suicide bomber.” He cleared his throat. “Actually, it was the UAC who were behind the attack.”

  “It was?”

  “More tattoos,” he ass
ured her, but his mind was flashing with images from that day. “The group I was with had been deployed to monitor towns in the northern province. Our movements were closely guarded. But you know what intel’s like.” He shook his head. About ten minutes after riding into town a car pulled up right in front of us.” He closed his eyes, seeing it flash before him. “It all happened so fast. I’d seen death before, many times. But the carnage of this explosion was … it was the definition of destruction.”

  “I can imagine,” she shuddered. “Was your friend the only one …”

  “No. We lost half the regiment. A lot of good men and women died that day.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “Rick used to talk about this place.” He stared at the trees, following her line of vision. “He described it in perfect detail, right down to that wonky front step.”

  “The explosion…” She ran her fingers over his muscular legs thoughtfully. “That’s why you left your job?”

  “Yes and no.” His smile was grim, but he didn’t elaborate.

  “What does that mean?”

  He shook his head, pushing away the somber memories. “Surely you don’t really want to talk about this.”

  She swished a little, rolling in the bath so that her chin was pressed against his chest. “You are a puzzle and I have limited time in which to fathom you. So kindly answer my questions as they are asked.”

  His eyes probed hers. Did she really want to know? Would she really care?

  His voice was gravelly and his eyes lifted away from hers. “My editor told me I’d be fired unless I came back. I didn’t much care. Harry…”

  “Harry,” she smiled fondly.

  “He convinced me that I’d had enough for now. I wasn’t in the military. I didn’t have to front up for fitness exams. Harry told me that if I did, no one would certify me to go back to another war zone.”

  “I think he had a point.”

  “I was fine,” he demurred shortly.

  “No one can see what you did and remain fine,” she said with a shake of her head.

  “Well, anyway. I wound up here, writing fluffy society pieces and wondering what the hell I’m meant to do with my life now.”

  Lilah felt a tug of something deep within her heart. It was a sensation she’d never known before, yet she recognized it instantly. It was the kind of love that was born out of someone’s vulnerabilities. She cared intensely for this man she’d just met, and so she was pained by his vulnerabilities and fears.

  “So much death,” she murmured, kissing his chest. “I wish I could remove the pain that you feel in here.” She lifted her lips to his heart and kissed him once more.

  He felt it. Right into his heart, and all through his body. He felt her wish as though it were actually a witch’s incantation, a spell designed to break him of his grief.

  “You have, for the moment.”

  Lilah looked up at him, a huge smile on his face. “I don’t know if I ever want to go back to reality.”

  He didn’t laugh. It wasn’t a joke. “Nor do I.”

  * * *

  The warmth from the fire was sublime. On their second night in the cabin, with a rug on the floor and a bottle of wine between them, they sat in front of the fire and enjoyed its gentle warmth and the freedom they had to sit close to one another.

  She cradled her wine glass in her hands. She didn’t drink alcohol often, and she was already swarmed by a heady sense of intoxication that had very little to do with Harry’s robust Cabernet Sauvignon. Will’s arm around her shoulder was filling her with the greatest sense of contentment she’d ever known.

  “Do you think you will ever return to a warzone?”

  The fire crackled in the grate. She felt Will’s heavy contemplation of the question. “I don’t know,” he said finally. “A month ago I would never have wanted to hang up my post as a war correspondent. It’s a dangerous job. But I relished that danger. I enjoyed being able to post stories from the heart of battles that most Americans could only imagine.”

  “It is an honourable profession.”

  He laughed. “You try telling my father that.”

  She snuggled closer to his side. “People will always form their own opinions of you. Often such opinions have very little to do with the truth. If your father cannot see the valour in your work then perhaps he never would have. No matter what you did.”

  Will tilted his head down and placed a kiss on her head. “He’s a tough son of a bitch.”

  “Harry seems proud of you.”

  Will curled his fingers around her shoulder. “Harry liked you,” he said with a grin. “And he’s a tough son of a bitch himself.”

  “I can’t imagine what he must have gone through.” She sipped her wine to moisten her mouth. “What you both went through.”

  Will was very still. Finally, he expelled a long, slow breath. “I was young. And arrogant as hell. I never thought anything like that would happen to me. I hadn’t seen then how fragile life is.”

  “No amount of experience could ever prepare you for the death of your wife.”

  “No,” he agreed. “Though I know now how instantaneously light can be extinguished from a person’s being. I have seen men take their last breath without any knowledge of it being so. I have held the hands of women, children, old men, as they’ve said prayers and waited for death to claim them. I have seen the callous way in which buildings are bombed from the skies and dozens of lives, sometimes hundreds, are gone, just like that. In a flash.”

  She felt his heart thumping steadily and imagined she could sense the grief in it. “Was there… was there any hope for your child?”

  His lips twisted. “No.”

  The fire crackled some more and Lilah thought he had ended the conversation. But then he shifted a little, bringing his other hand to rest on her knee. He traced a finger over her leg. “They tried. They cut her open. They pulled our baby out. But she didn’t breathe.” His words were clinical, yet Lilah knew the depth of his feelings. “It was strange. She was perfect. She looked like a real baby. They cleaned her up and let me hold her.” He swallowed. “She was still warm. But not breathing. Not moving. Just a doll, really.”

  Tears were dancing on Lilah’s eyelids and for once she made no effort to check them. They fell down her cheeks, gliding paths of desperation towards the floor. Will saw one splash onto her leg and he chased it with his finger.

  “I named her Faith. Though back then, I’d lost my own. I named her Faith, and Harry came and sat with me while I held her. Beside my dead wife’s body. There we were. Two men grieving – both having lost daughters. Both having lost everything.”

  Lilah sobbed and now she needed to be closer; to comfort him. To somehow help him. She lifted up and straddled him, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him gently. “I wish I could take that pain away. I am so sorry you went through that.”

  He tilted his head back. “I buried them both. Side by side. I used to think maybe that meant they’d be together in heaven. That Maddie would have been a mom after all.”

  “I’m sure she is. I’m sure they’re together somewhere.”

  “Are you?” Will grimaced. “I don’t know. Having seen what men can do to one another, having seen how we can destroy life as though it is cheap and unimportant, I find it hard to believe anything good anymore.”

  Lilah shivered. He was right to feel that. His sense was natural and just. “You were robbed, and their deaths served no purpose. But Will? She died knowing that you loved her. Knowing that, had you been in the store, you would have laid down your life to save hers. Your love would have comforted her, even at the end.”

  “Perhaps. All I can hope is that she died hoping that it wasn’t the end.” He studied his hands, but he was, momentarily, dipping back into the past. “Faith was so tiny, but so perfect. I held her and I wished … I wished I could give life back to her.”

  Lilah also stared at his big, strong, capable hands. So powerful yet so helpless
in that moment.

  “When I was little, my parents died.” She continued to watch his hands, to imagine the pain it had caused him to nurse his poor little girl. “It was very hard to comprehend. Death, then, was an unknown concept to me. It was something, I supposed, that happened to old people: softly, in the middle hours of the night. But not my mother and father.” She bit down on her lip. “Kiral used to say to me, j’alam etat. He would say it over and over. At night, when I couldn’t sleep for crying he would whisper the words and hold my hand.”

  “I don’t know what they mean,” Will said after a moment, though he considered himself to be fluent in her language.

  “No. Nor did I. They’re from the ancient texts that my uncle used to read to Kiral. J’alam etat means, literally, Pain will Fade. The pain has become memory and those memories are more precious than gold dust. I guard them more than I do all the jewels of our kingdom.” Her smile was wistful. “Hold onto your memories, Will.”

  He closed his eyes, remembering everything about the little baby. “They’re burned into me,” he said finally.

  “I wish I could take the pain away for you. I hope Kiral is right. I know he was for me. I hope your pain fades, one day.”

  He made a noise and forced a smile to his face. It was weak. “This is a depressing conversation. I’m sorry.”

  “What for?” Jalilah whispered. “For sharing more with me than anyone ever has?”

  He stroked her hair, pushing it back from her face. “You say things like that and it makes me feel a thousand sadnesses for you. Your life is so lonely. How do you face it?”

  “It’s my life,” she said with a shrug. She kissed his lips, relishing their closeness. “It’s all I know.”

  “Well, not quite.”

  “Oh?” She snuggled beside him again, loving the way she fit so well into the crook of his arm.

  “Now you know ice-cold cabins in the middle of nowhere.”

  “And burly men with hearts of gold,” she quipped, lacing her fingers through his.

  “Is there someone else I should be looking out for?” He demanded with mock jealousy and she laughed.

  “I meant you, of course.”