A Prince For Sophie (3 page)

She’d been crying. His heart lurched, because he knew he had a part in her tears. Reaching out, his touch gentle, he cupped her face, his thumbs stroking her cheeks where the tracks of moisture glistened in the moonlight. Then he lifted her face and kissed her.

Her lips parted so sweetly. His tongue raced out, overjoyed to stroke and taste and dance with hers. He was addicted to her, he knew that now, as everything inside him turned
right
with sips of her. Leaving her face, his hands caressed shoulders, slid around her back, smoothed over her bottom before pulling her close.

Not words, but sounds, certainly. Her whimper, the most eloquent plea he’d ever heard wrapped around his heart. How could he not give them both what they so desperately craved?

She held him, and he hardened instantly. With impatient moves, he raised her skirt, his hands seeking soft flesh. His fingers homed in on that silky needy spot between her thighs. The gush of moisture fired his blood. The primal beast in him reacted to the scent of her arousal in the most elemental way. He worked his fingers in and out of her, cupping her bottom, bringing her closer, then closer still. When she panted, when her fingers clutched at his back, he picked her up, carried her the few feet to one of the waiting chaises and laid her down. He didn’t strip either of them. There wasn’t time. He merely freed himself from his pants, pushed the crotch of her panties aside, and plunged.

He’d never been naked inside her before. He knew he wouldn’t last. The feeling was so hot, so good, he couldn’t stop himself from indulging in her, wanted nothing more than to be drenched in her completely. She’d wrapped her legs around him and was returning his thrusts. He could feel the strain, the reaching, as she chased her climax.

She’d told him, during one of their long-into-the-night chats that she could have no more children. In the moment before he flooded her womb with his seed, he wished with all his heart she could have his.

Then her tunnel clutched and convulsed, shivering down his entire length. Her orgasm drew out his own and he was lost in the glory of her.

* * * *

The breeze was warm and the sky just gathering light when she opened her eyes. Hannah lay still for a long moment, simply watching Alex sleep. They’d passed the entire night on one of the chaises on the beach without saying a word. Every moment with him, his touch, his taste, his loving, had healed every crack in her soul. She felt complete now, as she’d only ever felt here, in this country, with this man.

But they hadn’t resolved their differences. They’d merely ignored them for a short time.

The darkness of the night was good for that, for not looking at what was difficult, for taking and feasting and being greedy. The darkness allowed you to do what the light of day would not.

Alex slept on his side facing her, and he was the most handsome man she had ever known. He was also the most dear to her heart. Closing her eyes, she returned to that place in the night, to those stolen hours where the glide of his flesh against hers beat back all thought. She’d tasted and taken in turn, and the flavor of him intoxicated her still.

She couldn’t go on this way. Neither of them could. Her daughter would be married tomorrow. Two days after that, Hannah was scheduled to fly home. She nearly laughed out loud.
If the king will let me go
. He’d not said anything since that threat. She had no doubt he was capable of following through with it.

As carefully as possible, she slid away from Alex and got to her feet. It took her only a moment to right her clothes. Her panties, now nothing more than a torn handful of fabric and lace, lay on the sand in a small silky heap. Grateful her skirt had pockets, she gathered the scrap and stuffed it in one of them. Then, with one last lingering look at the man she loved, she turned and headed for the stairs.

She would shower, and she would eat. And then she would take herself someplace quiet and try to decide how she was going to live the rest of her life.

“Allow me to say good morning properly, Your Highness.”

Those words were Sophie’s only warning before Stephan pulled her into his arms. She put her hands on his muscled biceps and pushed at the same moment she opened her mouth to protest. He’d obviously been waiting for just that because he swooped in and covered her parted lips with his own.

She’d never been kissed like this before. Never had a man taste her with his tongue the way Stephan was doing. She couldn’t think, she could only feel. Heat moved over and through her as the wonderful flavor in her mouth exploded into something quivery and alive. Her belly clutched, her nipples hardened, and she imagined she was floating on air. Unable to do anything else, her tongue began to shyly slide against his, joining in the dance. Her arms wound around his neck, her fingers delving through the silky hair at his nape as her tongue stroked more boldly against his, the action thrilling her, racing her heart, speeding her blood.

One of his hands stroked her bottom and the compulsion to move closer swamped her. When she gave in to it, when she pressed herself more tightly against him, she felt a ridge, hard and long, pressing against her belly.

Startled, she pulled back, the reality of what he had done, what she had allowed him to do bursting the bubble of sensuality that had enveloped her.

Clichéd as it was, Sophie’s hand came up, her arm in a swinging arc, intending to deliver a slap as sharp as his flavor and as hard as the cloth-covered penis that had poked her.

He grabbed her wrist, easily holding her off.

“You kissed me back, little one. If you had not, I would allow you the slap. A fair trade for the pleasure of you on my tongue. But you
did
kiss me back—and very hotly, too. So I am saving you from committing a hypocritical act.”

Sophie’s mouth opened, but before she could speak, he leaned closer, his grin entirely too appealing for her peace of mind. “I like the taste of you, Sophie de la Croix. I’ll be kissing you again.”

Sophie was stunned into silence. How could he function well enough to deliver that snappy line, and then walk oh-so-casually away?

Well, of course he could. That kiss hadn’t done a darn thing to him except give him something to laugh about. He was, after all, the playboy prince. She doubted he had earned that nickname by keeping his hands and his mouth to himself.

“
’I’ll be kissing you again’
. Ha! We’ll just see about that!”

She nodded once, sharply, proud of her retort, regardless of the fact that the man it was directed at didn’t hear it.

Then, for a long moment, she stared into space, her head slowly shaking in disbelief at her own actions. Stephan had scrambled her brain and taken all the oxygen from her body. She wanted to affirm that he had offended her, too. But in her secret heart of hearts she could not claim offence. The impulse to slap him had been fleeting, and brought on more by the smug look he’d worn when she’d broken the kiss.

How did one discourage such a man? It was something Sophie had never had to consider before. Generally, she was able to put men off with almost no effort at all. Yes, part of that was her innate coldness. But part of it had to do with the decision she had made so long ago.

She would never marry, never have children of her own.

Something of her decision, of her resolve, must always have been obvious to everyone. No one had ever dared to even encroach on her personal space, let alone grab her up into a lusty kiss.

No one until His Royal Highness, Prince Stephan of Montgermane.

Looking around, Sophie realized she was still standing in the corridor, outside the door to her suite. She had been on her way to breakfast when that…that…kiss thief had swooped down on her.

She turned and directed her steps toward the central staircase, determined to continue on with her morning routine despite the strange interlude that had shaken her to her toes.

* * * *

“I hope I am not disturbing you, Madame Jones.”

Stephan felt compelled to announce his presence. The lady sitting alone in the breakfast room seemed lost in thought. He prized his own moments of solitude too highly to knowingly intrude upon another’s. He would have preferred a few more moments alone to fully assess that kiss. He’d moved on Sophie to ruffle her feathers, and instead his entire world had been turned upside down.

He’d spoken only the truth when he told her he liked the flavor of her. What he didn’t tell her was that he now fully intended to do a whole hell of a lot more than taste her.

Hannah Jones blinked as if just waking up, then smiled warmly, if a bit distractedly. “Not at all, Your Highness. Please, join me.”

“Then I shall, for nothing can begin the day better than to share a meal with a beautiful woman. But please, you must call me Stephan.”

“And you must call me Hannah.”

Her smile was sincere, and he couldn’t help but return it. He and Michael had spoken the evening before. The situation his friend had shared his concerns about only re-enforced what Stephan had already observed. He’d known there was some sort of tension between Hannah and the king. He was delighted for the man he’d always called Uncle Alex certainly deserved a woman who would warm his bed and lift his heart. In the short time he’d known her it was clear to him that Hannah Jones was such a woman. However, he didn’t share Michael’s concern that they would fail to mend their relationship. Uncle Alex was far too wise a man to let such a treasure get away.

In the meantime, Michael had shared one tidbit with him, and the imp within him needed no urging to tease—his second favorite pastime.

“I understand there may be some question with regard to your freedom to leave Boisdemer.”

From the round-eyed look of shock on Hannah’s face, he’d just surprised her with his cavalier bluntness. She blinked once. Then her eyes filled with humor.

“There may, indeed. We shall have to see.”

“There exists an interesting history between our two countries for as long as anyone can remember. Should the need arise, I can offer you sanctuary and spirit you out of Cardinia.”

“Now why does that have all the feeling of that old cliché, ‘out of the frying pan and into the fire’?”

“Because the history of which my friend speaks is that the kings and princes of Montgermane—who are, mind you, descended from gypsies—would offer
sanctuary
to noble travelers, only to then hold them for ransom.”

Stephan turned at the sound of Michael’s sardonic statement, grinning at his friend’s verbal sally.

“Really,
mon ami
, we hardly
ever
do that anymore. Please, you will frighten this beautiful lady.”

“The lady is not easily frightened or intimidated,” Michael returned. Then he came into the room, kissed Hannah on the cheek—a gesture Stephan noted made her beam in pleasure—and took a seat at the table.

One of the maids arrived with Hannah’s breakfast. She quickly solicited Stephan’s order and then Michael’s.

Then Sophie entered the room and Stephan’s attention was riveted. He caught the way she seemed to brace herself before coming in and taking a seat beside Hannah. Saying a simple ‘good morning’ to the room at large, she kept her eyes everywhere except on him.

After Michael and Hannah returned her greeting, he said, silkily, “Sophie and I already exchanged our morning greetings—just outside her bedroom.”

“Oh. So we did. I’d almost forgotten.”

Liar
. Her blasé response challenged him even as he admired her aplomb.

“Then tomorrow I shall endeavor to be more memorable.”

Aware of Hannah’s sudden intense scrutiny, he gave her a bright smile only to find himself the recipient of what he could only call a
mother’s look
. It was the same expression his own mother wore when she knew he’d stepped over the line.

And just like when his mother looked at him like that, Hannah’s look made him want to squirm in his chair, though he struggled manfully not to do so.

“Your parents are arriving today, I understand?”

Hannah’s question, backed by the sparkle in her eyes, confirmed that she did indeed possess that same mother’s sense.

“They are. I have a feeling you and my mother will get along very well,” he added ruefully.

Hannah dabbed her mouth on her napkin and set it aside. When she got to her feet, he automatically did the same.

“We probably will. We have impetuous sons in common.”

* * * *

Sophie hadn’t wanted to take any chances. Shortly after Hannah excused herself from the table, she feigned having forgotten something important and left the room. She was hungry, but there was no way in hell she would take the chance of being left alone with Stephan so soon after that kiss.

She was certain once she’d walked down the stairs, down the corridor with all the portraits of her ancestors looking on, she would be able to settle her nerves, and restore her cool façade.

It hadn’t happened, and she didn’t know how to make it so.

Since her brother was getting married tomorrow morning, Sophie had booked this day off work in order to be on hand for Catharine should she be needed, and, of course, to help her father welcome the handful of special guests who had been invited to stay at the palace for the nuptials.

Directing her steps to the kitchen, she stood just outside the busy room and observed.

Everyone knew exactly what they were doing, and they all seemed to work together so well. She’d heard that Hannah and Catharine were both regular visitors to this domain. She liked the atmosphere here, the busyness and the scent of food, the light and the laughter. Once, when she’d been small, she’d snuck down in the middle of the night. That was when her mother had been alive, and long before Robert Longet had been lured away from ruling the kitchen in a five star restaurant in Paris. The palace’s former chef, Monsieur
Pérot
, had been awake and alone in the cavernous room. He had spotted Sophie and made a huge production of welcoming her to his realm. They’d had a tea party, and it had been one of the happiest moments of her life until her nanny had found her and carted her up to bed. The kitchen was no place for a princess, Nanny Celeste had said. Of course her mother had been told, and she’d been scolded the next day. A princess
certainly
did not belong in the kitchen.