Royal Affair (10 page)

“Please don’t feel you have to do that,” he
said. “The comfort of your babies is more important than an old
custom.”

They straightened, several of them giggling.
Marta turned and gave him a smile that melted his heart, in part
because she held a little girl perched on her hip.

She did a little bob of a curtsey, despite
what he’d told the others. “Your Majesty.”

“My daughters-in-law have done a splendid
job with this event, wouldn’t you agree?” he said. “With Lady
Marta’s help.”

As hands were occupied with little ones, the
women answered verbally rather than with applause.

“It’s been my pleasure.” Marta handed the
little girl to him.

As monarch, he kissed babies from time to
time. As he gave this one a peck on the cheek, murmurs of
excitement went up and perhaps a few more giggles. The baby made
happy burbling noises and reached her hand toward his mouth. After
pretending to nibble on her fingers, he handed her back to Marta,
who returned her to her mother, a plump blonde young woman with a
healthy glow to her cheeks.

For a moment, his arms felt empty without
their bundle. Dev and Felice would correct that soon.

“Would you ladies mind if I borrowed Lady
Marta for a moment?” he said. “I’m afraid I need her
elsewhere.”

With the ladies’ general ascent—and a few
more curtseys—he touched Marta’s elbow, and they left together.

For appearances, he kept his distance as
they walked across the lawn, his hands at his back. “Thank you for
helping Felice and Casey to organize all this. It’s been a long
time since I had commoners at the palace.”

“Your staff did all the work.”

“Along with your staff,” he said. “And your
direction.”

“I enjoyed it. I haven’t entertained much…”
If she’d finished the sentence, she would have added since her
husband’s death.

They walked for a bit without speaking,
headed away from the most crowded parts of the gathering. Having
her by his side felt natural, although the urge to touch her almost
overwhelmed him. So he kept his hands clenched together behind
him.

“What was it you needed me for?” she
asked.

“Everything, it seems.”

She chuckled. “That’s not very
specific.”

“I’ve missed you. The palace has been so
crowded.”

“Dixie’s stepmother and sister constitute a
crowd all by themselves,” she said.

“You noticed that, did you?”

“And then, there’s Vaclav.”

“I suppose every family has its problem
relatives,” he said. “What would you say if I could get away from
the crowds for a bit tonight?”

Her gaze focused straight ahead and not on
him, she smiled. “For a private consultation?”

“Very private.”

“I think I could be available for that.”

He’d known she’d say yes, of course, or he
wouldn’t have asked. But happiness bloomed in his heart
nevertheless. She was absolutely the perfect woman for him, and he
thanked the Almighty every day for this third chance he’d had at
love. He’d propose to her, privately, on the day of the wedding. He
would have a life mate into his golden years, after all.

“I’m expected to indulge the men in brandy
and billiards after dinner. There’ll be a lot of swagger and
boasting late into the night, I’m afraid,” he said. “I’ll come to
you after that.”

“I’ll wait up.”

“Don’t. I’ll join you in bed.”

“Mmm,” she said. “Sleepy sex.
Delicious.”

He’d make a mental note of that. He’d pay
attention to everything she liked about lovemaking, and then, when
they were married, they wouldn’t have to sneak around and pretend
for the benefit of others. They could have each other whenever they
wanted. His life was, indeed, perfect.

*

Of course, Marta couldn’t sleep at all. What
woman could while waiting for her fantasy lover? She did get into a
filmy nightgown, turn off the lamp by the bed, and slip between the
sheets. The only light came from her bathroom, where she’d left the
door open just a crack so she could see him when he came in.

The clock showed almost one when the door to
her sitting room opened and closed softly. A ripple of excitement
danced through her, but she closed her eyes to pretend sleep. Let
him “awaken” her with a kiss.

He stopped on the threshold to her bedroom
and for a few seconds only stood there.

“Beautiful,” he whispered.

She smiled inwardly, not giving away the
fact that she’d heard him. He could make one word a precious gift,
and she’d keep this one close to her heart. Then he moved farther
into the room. A chair creaked as he sat in it, and then his shoes
hit the floor. He stood again, stripping out of his clothes. As on
their first time together, he took his time, and if she opened her
eyes, she’d no doubt find him folding his pants and hanging his
shirt carefully.

Then finally, he bent over the bed, pulled
up the covers, and slid in beside her. Completely naked, of course.
Perhaps she should have stayed nude, too. Perhaps she would next
time. In any case, her gown wouldn’t provide any obstacle to them
joining.

“Friedrich?” she whispered.

“Who else?”

She raised her arms over her head and
stretched. “Vaclav might have been out wandering where he didn’t
belong.”

He snuggled up to her and pulled her into
his arms. “I’d tear him apart with my bare hands.”

“Oooh, a savage.”

He growled and nipped at her earlobe. She
couldn’t help but squirm and giggle. Proper ladies didn’t do that,
and she hadn’t since she’d been a girl, but she could do anything
with this man.

Then he covered her breast with his hand,
massaging the flesh through the flimsy material of her gown. “Do
you have one of those tubes handy?”

“Ready for it so quickly?”

“I’ve been hard for at least an hour,” he
said. “I don’t think the others noticed, but it made me damned
impatient to get through with them.”

A curse word. Strong language for him, even
a small “damn.”

“Randy devil.” She’d left the lubricant on
the table so she wouldn’t have to fumble for it. She squeezed a
generous amount into her hand and rubbed it between her palms to
warm it. Now for one of her greatest joys, newly discovered. She
slid her hands under the covers and along his hard body until she
found his sex. He hadn’t joked. He really was already fully
erect.

She played with him as she applied the
lubricant, going all the way down to the base and back up using
both hands. She gave the head a little squeeze and savored his
answering groan.

“You’re doing an unnecessarily good job of
that,” he said.

“You told me I could play with you.”

“
Ach
, yes. Do it.”

Good, because she had no intention of
stopping just yet. She stroked him firmly, and the light from the
bathroom revealed he’d closed his eyes in concentration. He was
always handsome—his face a joy to study—but now, he seemed even
more beautiful as he made himself vulnerable to her touch. Still
stroking his shaft with one hand, she slid the other lower and
gently—oh so gently—brushed the tips of her fingers over his
sac.

“
Gott im Himmel
, Marta,” he cried.
“You’ll kill me. I swear.”

“Only in the best sense of the word, I
hope.”

“Enough of that, scamp.” He caught her hands
in his and moved them away and then raised himself over her for a
kiss. This was no polite invitation for a dalliance, no gentle
greeting. He captured her lips with his as if he were famished and
only she could provide sustenance. Wrapping her arms around him,
she did her best to keep up, and in a few seconds, they were
battling for dominance—the sort of struggle where both people
win.

His hands moved over her as they kissed, his
palms travelling along her sides, kneading the flesh and pulling
her to him. Against her belly, his hardness pressed into her. He’d
fill her soon and take her to their own private heaven.

He had more planned for her first,
obviously. He finally released her mouth and moved lower to close
his mouth around her breast, sucking on her nipple through the
cloth. Her breath caught, and she let out a whimper of need. Such
powerful feelings—the physical and the spiritual. Lowering every
barrier between them and making herself open to him in every way,
as he had a few minutes before. Currents of desire swirled through
her, and she surrendered to them. For the next few minutes, she’d
allow him to take control. His pleasure would come later, but right
now, his loving was all for her.

As he moved to the other breast, his hand
bunched up her gown, the hem steadily creeping along her leg to her
thigh and then higher. When his fingers touched her mound, she went
completely limp, her legs falling apart.

He recognized the invitation and immediately
parted the lips of her sex in search of her most sensitive organ.
When he found it, the nerve endings came to life, sending signals
through her body that he’d make her climax, and the rush would be
powerful.

“Oh!” The voice didn’t sound like her own,
and yet she’d cried out that single syllable.

He moved his mouth to her ear. “Yes, my
love.”

“
Gott, Gott!
”

He continued stroking her, rubbing and
circling her bud until she went quite mad with lust. No polite word
would do. She needed more. Needed to climax. Soon.

“Hurry, please,” she said. “Take me.
Now.”

He moved his hand, and she hovered near the
brink. Lost to the powerful hunger he’d created. Immediately, he
took his place between her legs. She managed to reach between them
and find his sex, then guided the tip between her folds.

The moment he entered her, she exploded into
orgasm. As intense as she’d imagined, wave after wave of it
crashing over her. Her muscles gripped him rhythmically as her
cries floated above them.

Then he was moving hard and fast, sending
her joy even harder. She held him in her arms as he surrendered to
his own climax. Burying his face in the crook of her neck, he let
out a muffled roar as he thrust a few more times and finally went
limp, moaning softly.

After a few seconds, he rolled off her and
tugged her against him. Her head lay just under his chin, and her
arm splayed across his chest as peace settled over both of
them.

“I must learn to take more time when we make
love,” he said.

“It was perfect. I couldn’t have waited
another moment.” Just because she could, she traced meaningless
patterns on his chest with the tip of one finger. Such a
magnificent male specimen, and he was all hers.

“You inspire such lust in me,” he said. “I
feel as if I’m thirty again.”

“And you make me feel as if I’m the most
beautiful woman alive.”

He kissed the top of her head. “You
are.”

“In case you become inspired again, you
could spend the rest of the night here.” She held her breath
waiting for his answer. So far, their trysts had been just
that—encounters that ended when he had to get back to his family or
his duties. She needed him as much as his sons and his country
did.

“I wouldn’t think of being anywhere else but
with you tonight,” he said. “I love you, Marta.”

Gott sei dank
. The words she’d craved
for years but had only hoped for in the last few weeks. He’d hinted
with his endearments, but now he’d actually said them.

“I love you, too,” she said. “My darling
Friedrich.”

He yawned. “I’m afraid it’s late, and you’ve
sapped my energy.”

“Go to sleep. I’ll be here when you wake
up.”

“Love you.” After that, the dear man drifted
off.

With a happy sigh, she squeezed his ribs. If
she became any happier, her heart would burst with it all.

*

Spending the night with Marta had been the
absolutely right thing to do. Now, Friedrich only had to get back
to his own suite without detection. At least, he had regular
clothing to wear rather than pajamas and robe.

They’d made love again in the early morning.
Slow and sweet, the way he’d planned to earlier before her
incredible climax had pushed him past the breaking point. He’d
kissed her awake and murmured a good-bye. Now, after one more
loving glance at her sleeping form, he went through her sitting
room and out into the hallway, pulling the door silently closed
behind him.

The moment he turned around, he faced
detection. His youngest son was creeping down the corridor, dressed
in his night clothing.

Ulrich appeared as chagrined at having been
spotted as Friedrich felt. He straightened abruptly, his eyes
widening. “Father, I…”

“Good morning, Son.” Nonchalant. Act as if
nothing was out of the ordinary, as if he were only on a morning
stroll. He turned to go, but Ulrich’s hand caught his arm.

“Wait a minute, Father. Isn’t that…” Ulrich
stared at Marta’s door for a few seconds. “…Lady Marta’s
suite?”

Friedrich paused as if contemplating the
question. “I believe it is.”

Ulrich briefly appeared puzzled, and then
recognition dawned. “You were just coming out of there. At this
hour in the morning.”

So much for avoiding detection. “Keep your
voice down.”

“And you’re wearing the same clothes you had
on last night. You haven’t been to your own bedroom, have you?”

“Please, Son. The entire palace doesn’t need
to know our business.”

“You and Lady Marta.” Ulrich sputtered for a
moment. “Father, how could you?”

If there were ever a case of the pot calling
the kettle black. “And where were you coming from?”

“I?”

“You’re still in your pajamas.” Friedrich
used his best stern-parent tone. Not that it worked on his sons any
longer, but he could try.

“That’s different.”

“I don’t see how,” Friedrich said. “At least
I’m decently dressed.”