A Royal Mess and Her Knight To Remember (11 page)

“Yes, ma'am.” He obliged her, then kneeled at her side, sliding hers off, too, running his hands down her bare legs while he stared down at her with a hunger that made her arch off the grass.

“Is it too itchy?”

She blinked, then realized he meant the grass beneath her. “I can't feel anything but you touching me.”

“Good.” Her panties sailed over his shoulder the way their pants had gone and he bent, kissing her, long and deep and wet, just the way she'd discovered she'd liked it.

No one had ever kissed her this way, though it was
fair to say many had tried. She just hadn't seen what all the fuss was about. Sex had seemed sweaty and rather nasty, and a lot of work. And, according to several of her friends, unsatisfying.

She hadn't bothered to find out for herself. She wasn't a prude, or even shy. She knew how to pleasure herself. She just hadn't let a man do it.

She would let Tim.

His hands glided over her body, paying special attention to her breasts, before he replaced his fingers with his mouth. That left his hands free to dawdle lower, and dawdle they did, dancing down her belly, which quivered at his touch.
Oh, good.
Down, down…
oh, please to the right spot
…but…no. He passed the goodies and swept his fingertips over her thighs and down her legs and…
yes.
They were coming back!

“Please,” she whispered without meaning to, thrusting her hips toward him in an attempt to help him find the right spot.

He missed it again.

Instead, he played with her thighs while he stretched out at her side, leisurely, as if he had all the time in the world. His mouth played at her ear, at her throat, and those fingers—the center of her world at the moment—came…very…close…but…
no.
“Tim.”

“Mmm, you're so sweet.” He nibbled his way to a nipple while he continued to tease her with that barely there caress. Now his tongue brought a new sort of tension, making her arch and writhe.

She was wound up, no doubt, her every muscle tense, shaking. She was starting to sweat, too, and if she didn't get some sort of…
more,
she was going to scream.
“Tim.”

“Right here.”

Maybe he didn't know what to do. That was all right, she was a new-millennium type of woman. She could show him.

She spread her legs. Wide. Rocked her hips. And when his fingers skimmed up high on her thigh, she moaned her encouragement. Rocked some more. Tried to give him a clue.

“Ah,” he murmured in a silky voice that brought shivers to her heated skin. “You're getting ready now.”

“I
am
ready! I'm really,
really
ready!”

“Are you? Let me see…” And finally, oh, finally, his fingers caressed the spot, the
right
spot, over the
ohmigod
spot, and as a result of that one very slow, very sure caress, she let out a sound that might have horrified her in its neediness if she'd had any modesty left at all.

She did not.

Then he did it again, moaning when his fingers came away wet. “Yeah. You're right. You're just about ready.”

“Not just about,” she panted, because he did it again, that just oh-so-perfect glide of his fingers. “I'm there!”

“Well…” He deepened the touch, in just the right rhythm, assuring her he'd known what he was doing all along.

This was no ordinary orgasm she was currently on the cusp of, that much was certain. Her toes curled, her eyes rolled back in her head, and she lost all ability to think as her body hovered on the edge. Hovered and hovered, while he held her there purposely, then finally, finally, did something amazing with his thumb while his fingers—

And she exploded. Burst right out of herself. Saw stars, a kaleidoscope of colors, the whole shebang.

When her senses returned, Natalia found herself still on her back, still in the grass, blinking up at the stars glittering far overhead.

“You okay?” he asked.

She'd just had her first man-made orgasm. A
screaming
orgasm. And lying there, her skin sheathed in a fine sweat, slowly being cooled off by the lovely night, she laughed.

“I'll take that as a yes.” Tim's face came into her view as he leaned over her, also wearing a grin.

His seemed a bit tight, though, and she remembered. She'd lost control after all, damn it, and he hadn't. Not yet. “I believe there's more?” she asked.
Please let there be more.

He arched a brow. “When you speak like that, you do indeed sound like a princess.”

“More,” she repeated.

“Well, yeah, about that.” He grimaced. “We seem to have a little protection problem.”

That she could handle. “In my back pocket.”

He gaped at her. “
You
have a condom?”

“Amelia always insists I carry one.”

“Amelia?” He went to her pocket and shook his head. “Never mind. I don't want to know right now.” He opened the packet and removed the condom.

Natalia sat up, reached for it. “Can I?” She'd always wanted to try this part, but when she took it from his fingers, she nearly dropped the thing. “It's…slimy.” But gamefully, she held it up to the moonlight. “Uh, Tim? This isn't going to fit.”

With a rough laugh, he took it back. “It'll fit.” He started to roll it on. “See?”

She could hardly breathe, and certainly couldn't tear her eyes from the sight of him stroking the condom down his own length. “That's a very sexy
thing,” she decided. “Do men like to watch a woman touch herself, too?”

“A man would
die
to watch a woman touch herself.”

Something in his eyes made her bold. Whether it was the plain hunger or the even more obvious affection shining there, she didn't know, but she lifted her hands and stroked them down her own body. She was about to ask “like that?” but before she could open her mouth, he'd growled low in his throat and tumbled her back to the grass, running his hands down her arms, her sides, down her thighs and up the backs of them, spreading them wide so that he could—

“Oh!” she cried when he slipped an inch inside her. She'd had no idea how perfect it would feel—

Then he bent over her, his forearms flat on the ground on either side of her head, sinking his fingers into her hair, kissing her long and hard. “You feel good,” he whispered against her lips.

He felt good, too, but she wanted more, she wanted all of him.

Especially before he figured out she hadn't done this before.

“M
ORE
,” N
ATALIA SAID
so politely Tim might have laughed if he wasn't on the very edge, barely holding on to any semblance of control.

“Tim?” She wrapped her legs around him and tried to pull him inside her. “I said more.”

“Yes. More,” he promised, and thrust into her.

By the time he figured out the truth, it was too late. She'd arched to meet him at the exact moment of resistance, and then stared up at him in startled surprise at the bite of pain.

“Oh, my,” she said a bit tearfully.

Buried to the hilt, he went utterly still. Not easy when his body had started the happy dance toward orgasm. “Natalia. My God.”

She blinked, sending a tear dancing down her cheek. “Don't get mad.” She wriggled, just a little, and he clenched his teeth trying not to plunge again.

“Don't move,” he managed. “I'll hurt you.”

“You're going to kill me if you don't move.”

“What?” This couldn't be happening. He was
hurting her. His worst nightmare. “Sweetheart, I'm sorry. Let me—” He started to pull back but she grabbed his butt with both hands and dug her fingernails into him, but good. She wriggled some more and panted at the same time.

“Tim, wait. It's good. It's…” Her breasts were flushed, her eyes glossy as she tossed back her head, pulling back her knees, everything within her power to make him understand.

“Natalia—”

“Please.”
Grabbing his hand, she thrust it between their bodies.

And he finally got it. She was good. She was great. She was rubbing herself against his fingers and pushing him in and out of her body, driving them both toward the finish line.

She got there first, but only by a fraction of a second as the sight of her lost in her own pleasure totally and completely undid him.

He was still shuddering when he felt it, something cold and wet nudging against his bare butt.

Mrs. Pig.

Her snout, to be exact, and when he craned his neck and peered over his shoulder, she nudged him again, less politely this time. “Oh, for the love of—”

Oink.

“Damn.” If he didn't know better, he'd think that
pig was grinning. He must have left the gate open in his hurry, which meant both Pickles and Misty were wandering the countryside, as well.

Still deeply embedded in Natalia, he turned back to her.

“Problem?” she asked.

“Oh, yeah.” First, he was never going to rescue another ungrateful animal again. Second, why had she had been a virgin? Why hadn't she told him?

And damn, that was her blood on his thigh.

“Tim?” She turned her head to the side and came face-to-face with Mrs. Pig. “We seem to have an audience.”

“I know. Natalia—”

“Wait.” She cupped his face. “You're not going to mess this up by saying something stupid right now, are you?”

“I just might.” He pulled out of her and discovered the third major issue. “Uh…Natalia—”

“Because a speech right now would really be annoying.”

“Natalia.”
He swallowed hard and tried not to panic. “I really need to make a speech.”

“No.”

“Yes. The condom broke.”

“Oh.
Oh.
”

He groaned and rubbed his face.

“Uh…Tim? Do condoms expire?”

He dropped his hands from his face. “Tell me that condom wasn't old.”

“Okay, I won't tell you.”

 

N
ATALIA WOKE UP
with the sun streaming into her bedroom. Stretching luxuriously, she froze as three things hit her at once. Okay, four, but really, the condom thing didn't count. No use panicking this early, right?

Anyway, first, she was sore. Strange, though, how it was a good kind of sore, if there even was such a thing.

Two, for the first time since she'd arrived, she'd failed to get up before Tim and get breakfast together.

And three…and here was the shocker…she'd fallen hard for the cowboy.

She was in love with Timothy Banning.

Not just a little in love, either, but the something-old-something-new-something-borrowed-something-blue type of love.

She couldn't tell him. He was one of the good old guys, a man she hadn't realized still existed. He'd feel honor bound to do something stupid, like offer to marry her.

She was a lot of things, but one thing she was not, was a woman willing to trap a man into a lifelong
commitment, no matter how much she'd suddenly discovered she wanted one.

Damn, she should have gotten up this morning, just like always, so he wouldn't know anything had changed, but it was too late now.

He'd tried to talk to her last night, between catching Mrs. Pig—who didn't want to be caught—and Pickles, who had delighted in playing the game of running off into the night every time Tim had gotten close.

When he'd realized Natalia was escaping, too—she'd tried to sneak off to her bedroom so she didn't have to answer the obvious questions he'd have—he'd immediately stopped catching animals and caught her, instead.

She'd begged off, promising him a talk today before she left.

Before she left.

She had no idea which was worse, the thought of that, or facing Tim with all his questions. Neither appealed. Not when she just wanted to be alone to bask in her new knowledge.

Which was being a woman far beat being a princess any day of the week. God, she wished for Annie. Annie, so tough, so strong, would know what to do.

Still in her borrowed nightgown from Sally—which was a big, old, ragged, cut-up T-shirt she suspected
had come from Tim's throwaways, she threw herself backward on the bed, arms and legs spread out and grinned up at the ceiling.

Oh, yeah. Today she was all woman.

Now all she had to do was figure out how to combine the best of both worlds. To do so, she'd have to say goodbye, and make her arrangements. Then actually leave.

Her grin vanished.

Leaving was going to be next to impossible. Worse than she could have ever anticipated. It wasn't just the affection she'd developed for Texas. Or even the odder affection she'd developed for the people here, including the fiercely proud, protective Sally.

No, there was far more she'd miss.

With all her heart, she'd miss Tim. She'd miss his smile, his voice, how he made her feel.

And no doubt, being forced to go back to her own battery-operated pleasure, she'd miss the wild, screaming orgasms he'd given her.

Just thinking about them, and how incredible last night had been beneath the stars and Tim's hard body, she tingled. Her body ached. Her nipples hardened.

Oh, definitely, she could lie here for a while and think of all those delicious things he'd done to her.

But a knock came at her door. She leaped up, then
stood still, her heart racing, even before his unbearably familiar voice came.

“Natalia.”

Just the sound of him had her thigh muscles clenching together.

The handle jiggled, then opened to reveal Tim, looking larger-than-life and unusually subdued. His gaze ran over her, from the top of her rumpled head to the ragged old T-shirt slipping off one shoulder, to her bare legs and feet. “I woke you. I'm sorry.”

“No,” she said, oddly breathless. Had his voice always had this effect on her? This trembling, got-to-have-his-hands-on-me effect?

Or had it just been since last night?

“I'm sorry about breakfast,” she said. “You must be starving.”

A funny expression crossed his face. “Starving? Um. No. Natalia, last night—”

“I feel so bad, letting you down like this. Here, I'll hurry and throw something together.” She was talking, talking, talking, a nervous habit. “Maybe the men can take a break and eat, too.” She couldn't stop. If she did, she'd break down, because he looked so good, he looked so hers, and how was she ever going to go? “Tim, who's going to feed you after I'm gone?”

“It doesn't matter. But Natalia, about last night—”

“I should have been helping you train someone.” She couldn't do this, couldn't get normal, not when it was all over. “Maybe I should try to extend my stay, you know, just until you place an ad and get someone in here—”

Eyes glittering with sudden knowledge, he stalked forward, slid his fingers around her jaw and tipped her face up.

Bad. She was so close to losing it, her breath hitched. She studied the ceiling.

His other hand slid to her waist and gently squeezed. “Look at me. Please?”

As a reward for getting lost in his deep green eyes, he sank his fingers into her hair and massaged her suddenly aching head.

She nearly melted against him. Not a good plan, as she needed, desperately, some distance. This weak and clingy thing, it was unacceptable. “I'd better…” What? Fall apart? “Shower.”

“You're avoiding me, Natalia, and we need to talk.”

“I've found talking overrated.” She would have moved away but he held her still.

“You were a virgin,” he said. “You let me take that from you. Why, Natalia?”

“What's a little inexperience between friends?”
She tried to smile, though her throat was so tight she nearly choked. “Anyway, I've got to—”

With a gentleness that nearly broke her, he slid his hand over her throat, as if he knew it ached so much that she could hardly breathe, much less talk. “Being with you was different. Special. Even with Mrs. Pig interrupting the big finale.” He sent her an apologetic smile. “But it can't have been a decision you made lightly. Why didn't you tell me?”

“I didn't know how.”

“How about… ‘Hey, Tim, I'm new at this.' Or better yet, ‘Virgin alert.' Either would have done the trick just fine.”

“You're angry.”

“Are you kidding?” He shook his head, tipped up hers and kissed her. “I'm incredibly touched, Natalia. I just wish I'd known, that's all. I would have done things differently.”

“You were perfect.”

“I would have given you a bed. Made sure there were no pesky pigs watching.” His eyes conveyed so much affection, she felt her own well up again. “Now talk to me.”

“Oh, Tim.” Talking hurt.
Looking
at him hurt. “What can I say? Princesses are fairly heavily protected as a rule, you know? I was a virgin because I never really had the chance to…not be one.”

Some of his open expression became not-so-open. “So, it was a convenience thing?”

“No.” She put her hands over his. “
No.
Until last night, there was never anyone I wanted to…well, sleep with.”

“There was no sleeping involved.”

She felt her face heat. “You know what I mean.”

“Yeah.” He watched her for a long moment. “Which brings us to the bigger problem.”

“The condom.”

“The
broken
condom.”

She envisioned herself with child. Tim's child. Living on his ranch forever because he couldn't bear to part with his son.

Her heart beat hard and heavy against her ribs at the thought.
Could I get so lucky?

“Natalia?”

She blinked away the image of sharing his life forever. “Yes?”

“Promise you'll tell me. Contact me. From wherever you are. I want to know.”

“Tim—”

“Promise, Natalia.”

So intense. So absolutely fierce. “I promise.”

“Okay.” He relaxed slightly, and smiled. “Okay.”

What about us?
she wanted to cry.

But there was no us. If she was pregnant, he wanted
to know. If she wasn't, then there was no need to write or call or visit.

She was free to go, no regrets, nothing.

Now she really was going to lose it. Pushing past him she went into the bathroom. As she shut the door, she said, “I'll make an early lunch. Then…”

Then she'd go.

From the other side of the door, Tim didn't say anything.

He'd probably already walked away. Pathetically close to tears, Natalia stripped and stepped into the shower, which hadn't yet heated.

But there was one good thing about freezing off her vital body parts. She didn't have the breath left for tears.

 

S
TRENGTHENED IN BODY
if not spirit by her unintentionally icy shower, Natalia went down to the kitchen and made lunch. Actually, she improvised, as she had an unusual amount of dinner left over from last night. Basically she just reheated her first attempt at American chili and flagged down Sally, thinking they wouldn't mind eating such great fare two meals in a row, right?

Besides, this way Sally could take it out to the men, and Natalia could dwell on leaving. On not seeing these people ever again.

Especially one Timothy Banning, who apparently couldn't wait to get rid of her.

After Sally left, pretending to gag over the smell of lunch, Natalia sat at the empty kitchen table, her heart heavy.

And knew. She couldn't do it. Couldn't leave with out seeing them, if only one last time.

She walked out of the house and to the barn, thinking this life should have been hers. She'd have loved it.

In fact, she'd better not look at Tim too closely, or she might mistake a simple smile for a sign that she was meant to stay.

Opening the barn door, an anticipatory smile on her face, she stepped forward.

And froze.

There, in front of her, were Tim and Red and the others. Huddled in front of a little plug-in heater, staring with hungry-looking eyes at five frozen burritos sitting on top of it.

“Highway robbery, I'm telling you,” Red said.

Seth shook his head. “I think five bucks apiece is fair, and if you don't, someone else will pay it. Now who wants chips? A buck a bag, which is a good price, I'm telling you.”