The Perfect Prince (11 page)

 

 

Olek stayed patiently out of her way as she figured out their filing system. Sitting on one of the low red chairs, he took out a pencil and began to work. His eyes strayed to her backside, as she lifted up on her toes to scan a book’s binding and then read the title on her little screen. She was lovely, and his body ached just to hold her. She stubbornly refused to ask him for help, though it would have sped the process along for her.

 

A servant brought lunch, a simple fare of meat, cheese and bread. Nadja made a sandwich and ate standing up while she searched, refusing to sit with Olek. Olek merely picked at the plate, lounging back in his chair as he made the pretense of not watching her.

 

Finally, several thick volumes and a few hours later, she was ready to go. Olek eyed her load, glancing over the titles. There were several medical texts, an encyclopedia of the planet’s herb and plant life, gardening, and at least one scientific journal. The other bindings were blocked by her arms.

 

“Do I need to tell someone that I am taking these?” Nadja asked. It was the first thing she had said to him in hours and her voice was husky from little use.

 

It had been very disconcerting to have him so near, watching her. His sultry eyes left her weak without even knowing it. So many times she wanted to cross over to him and just start kissing his perfect mouth, touching his perfect body. Nadja had never been so bold and she didn’t easily forget his denial of her the day before.

 

Olek blinked, surprised to hear her finally speak to him. He had tried at conversation a few times only to be shushed by her silence.

 

“No, it is the family library. You may take what you like,” he answered. “Only when you’re done, bring them back for the others.” Nadja nodded, surprised at how readily they accepted a stranger into their midst as part of their family. She hadn’t been denied a single thing. Olek sighed, going to lift the heavy load from her arms into his. Nadja almost refused, but they were heavy so she let him take them.

 

When they got back to their house, the carpenter was finishing up. Nadja was very pleased with what the man accomplished in one day. She was even more amazed that he built her new shelving in the sun room for the additional plants she had bought. He’d also made her a potting table with places to hang spades and hand rakes. To her surprise, she realized that Olek ordered not only the additional construction on her behalf, but he bought her a cushioned stool.

 

She smiled and thanked the carpenter as he left. Olek walked the older man outside, murmuring to him in their shared tongue. When he came back, Nadja managed a weak nod of thanks as she left to explore her room. Olek smiled sadly, leaving her to unpack her boxes and leaf through her books.

 

Olek couldn’t get anything done. Nadja was in his head. Everywhere he looked in his home, she was there. In the throw pillows she added to his couch, in the tablecloth and vase of flowers on his dining room table, in the endless assault of feminine toiletries lining his bathroom counters and cabinets. He never realized a woman would have need of so much stuff.

 

The rest of the evening, he stayed in his office, listening for movement from the other side of his office wall. He wanted her so badly, longed for her with every fiber of his being and she wouldn’t have him. He’d seen her desire that night in the tent. What had happened? Why was being a Princess such a big deal to her? Would she really have been happier with a poor farmer?

 

It didn’t make sense, especially in light of her expensive jewels. It wasn’t as if this refined beauty grew up poor on a farm and was used to such a life. In fact, he would bet she would go crazy in the first month of constant, hard, manual labor. Everything about her screamed that she came from money and affluence. It was in the way she carried herself, the way she instructed servants with ease and kindness, the way she commanded respect without even knowing it. These were traits bred into a person from birth, not mimicked or learned.

 

Unable to stay his curiosity any longer, Olek stood and moved to her door. It was cracked open and he saw the light coming from inside. The evening dusk was leaving a chill and he quietly murmured for fire.

 

Knocking softly, he urged the sun room door to fall open. It wasn’t the garden he expected. Instead, her potting table was filled with glass jars bubbling with strange liquids. A stack of writing paper carried strange symbols and notations. Books were scattered on a clean bench, several opened to different pages. In the middle of it all was his wife.Nadja’s brow was furrowed in concentration as she lifted her translator to the book. She mumbled something under her breath, made a notation, and turned to lift one of the jars of green liquid. Still muttering to herself, she wrote her observations down on the paper.

 

“Nadja?” Olek asked, realizing she didn’t hear him come in.

 

Nadja jumped, nearly spilling the green liquid down her shirt. Her body froze and she took several deep breaths. Her heart hammered in her chest. She’d just discovered that the combination of roots she’d blended made a very effective chemical acid. It could have taken her skin off.

 

Setting the glass down carefully, she demanded, “What are you doing sneaking up 
on me like that? Didn’t you ever hear of knocking?”

 

“I did knock,” Olek defended, seeing that she was shaken. He ignored her usual ire, and stepped into her new office.

 

Nadja’s fingers trembled as she twisted them together. Looking down at her notes, she quickly covered them to hide them from view. It was pointless because he couldn’t read them anyway.

 

“What exactly are you doing?” Olek asked, his voice rolling out soft and low.

 

“This doesn’t look like gardening.”

 

“I’m.…” She hesitated, a frown marring her brow. “It’s none of your business. I don’t bug you about what you do all day, or last night for that matter. You could afford me the same courtesy.”

 

“All day I work on matters of the House of Draig--rather boring but important stuff. Last night, I was in the royal office going over papers with the King and I fell asleep on the couch,” he said lightly. To his surprise, the admission actually seemed to relieve her.

 

Nadja gulped. She had almost convinced herself he was with another woman.

 

Different scenarios had played endlessly in her head. But, looking at him, she could see the truth in his eyes. Suddenly, it was as if she could feel him inside of her. If she closed her eyes she could almost detect his heart beating next to her chest.

 

Olek lifted the green jar. “Is this a kind of fertilizer?” Nadja tensed as he recklessly swirled it. “Don’t!” A splash of liquid came out over the edge and dotted onto one of the plants.

 

Instantly, the leaf began to bubble and melt. Olek frowned, his eyes turning to her suspiciously.

 

“It’s not what you think,” Nadja said, holding up her hands in defense of any unspoken words. When he didn’t lower the jar, she eased it out of his fingers and set it on the table.

 

“How do you know what I am thinking?” he asked, still wary.

 

“It was a simple mistake. The translator was reading your word for poison as potion and I just now figured it out what it was trying to say. The combination of these elements make acid, not.…” Nadja paused looking at him. “I’m sorry. It’s all really very boring.”“No, please, go on,” Olek murmured, liking the sound of her low, siren’s voice.

 

He could listen to it forever, it didn’t matter what it said.

 

“No, it gets really … scientific. You couldn’t possibly be interested.” Nadja began slowly urging him back to the door. When she got him outside, she shut the laboratory door and followed him to the couch. “I would just appreciate if you didn’t touch anything in there until I can figure out how to write Qurilixian on my labels.”

 

“I can easily read seven languages and speak nearly thirty fluently,” he mused.

 

“Label them however you like.”

 

Nadja blinked at the admission. “You have an uploader unit here?”

 

“No,” he chuckled. He stopped walking, standing with her near the fireplace. It glowed over her skin, contrasting her features. “We don’t use uploads. Sometimes the material doesn’t stick when you need it to.”

 

“Too bad. It would really help the brides learn the basics of your language. The phonetics alone can give you a headache….” Nadja gulped, not planning on revealing so much.

 

Too late, Olek caught it. Smiling in pleasure, he asked, “You’re trying to learn my language?”

 

“I….” Nadja hesitated and looked away. “It would only be prudent. Since I am stuck here, I should be able to speak to people.”

 

“Why didn’t you ask me for help?” His voice deepened, as he closed the distance between them. His hand reached to stroke her cheek, casting a spell between them as his touch moved over her throat to brush over her collarbone. “I will gladly teach you.”

 

“I don’t need your help,” she denied, her eyes drifting closed as his mouth hovered near. The masculine smell of him overwhelmed her and she leaned naturally into him, ready for his kiss. Olek was surprised at how sincerely she softened into his arms.

 

For all her refined defiance, her defenses crumbled easily.

 

“I would give it,” he whispered, leaning in to close the distance between their lips.

 

No matter how much Nadja convinced herself that she would deny him when this moment came, she couldn’t. His warmth drew her in and caused the stirring of emotions she couldn’t control or fight. Her body sought the feel of his, just as it sought air and food for survival.

 

His mouth conquered her lips with tenderness before trailing to her neck. His movements became urgent as his hand found hold on her breast. He began backing her up to the water fountain in the front hall.

 

“Tell me you want me,” Olek murmured hoarsely to her throat.

 

Nadja couldn’t speak. Her cheeks flushed red with the very idea.

 

Olek growled at her silence. Her body said everything her lips refused to. Her hands found his shoulders, his back. Her fingers tangled into his hair, urging him onward.

 

Olek suddenly lifted her to standing on the edge of the fountain. Coming up beside her, he forced her back into the water. Her feet splashed as she landed. Water pooled over her shoulders, wetting her tight cotton shirt and budding her dark nipples to straining.

 

Olek didn’t ask her permission as he tore the shirt from her body. His gaze burned into hers, daring her to deny him, as the water tickled and caressed her naked flesh. He stepped close to her, causing her to lean against the hollow of the rocks. Ripping a long strip from her shirt, he studied her face for a reaction and grabbed one of her wrists in his large palm. Lifting her arm with deliberate slowness, he raised it above her head. He looped the shirt around the peak and easily tied her to the fountain. His eyes dark and 
serious, he lifted her other hand and tied it up in the same fashion.

 

Nadja was too far gone to resist him. Her lips parted, but it wasn’t a sound of protest that whispered past her throat.

 

Olek eyed his handiwork, very pleased. His hands glided over her flesh in the water. Lightly, he touched the sides of her breasts, denying their straining centers.

 

Pleasure coursed through her racing blood, heating her even as the water cooled. Her mind followed the delectable movements of his fingers.

 

Kneeling before her in the water, his hands moved over her slender hips. He pulled at the waistband of her soaked pants and pooled them into the water, unveiling her naked body to his hungry eyes.

 

Nadja trembled before him. His hands glided everywhere, touching everything but her most heated parts. It was pure torture. Her arms strained weakly to be free, to be able to touch him in return. The fountain sprayed over his body, dampening his shirt and hair, soaking into his cotton pants. The material molded to his solid, firm body. She gasped, jerking harder against her restraints.

 

Olek worked his way up her flesh, massaging and caressing. Her hips jerked, searching desperately for his fingers. Her breasts arched for him. She was beautiful, writhing in her innocent passion for him. With her restrained, it would be so easy to claim her. But Olek needed answers first and this might be the only way he could get them. This was the only time she let down her guard, mindlessly responding to him in her honesty purity. He drew near to her, letting her wet body feel his warmth. Her breasts vaulted towards him, only able to rub the aching tips lightly to his shirt.

 

“Olek,” Nadja panted mindlessly. “Please.” Olek grinned, a devilishly masculine look of dominate pleasure. He put his hand over her head, towering over her.

 

“Oh, please,” she moaned, her eyes closing in her aching need.

 

“Please?” Olek urged her, whispering his word against her skin. Her body jerked in response.

 

“Yes, please,” she begged, her leg lifted to touch his as she hung helplessly before him. Her calf rubbed insistently against his hip, trying to free him of his clothes. She managed to work her leg to the flesh of his waist. Nadja groaned loudly in gratification of the small triumph.

 

“What do you want?” he whispered to her ear.

 

“Olek, please, don’t, just, oh!”

 

“Tell me,” he commanded hotly. “Tell me what you want, Nadja.”

 

“I want you,” Nadja panted softly, her cheeks flaming slightly, though her body didn’t stop its aching search for him.

 

“What do you want from me? Tell me what you want.”

 

“I want … this,” she moaned, thinking she felt him shift a little closer. Her leg 
pulled at him, wrapping around his firm buttocks as she tried to force him to her burning center. Every nerve in her was screaming his name. Her blood raced, pumped faster by a heart that nearly leapt from her chest.

 

“Who do you want, Nadja?” Olek asked, his strong voice dipping low, almost a growl. “You,” she panted, growing terribly desperate. This was a torturous game, but she wouldn’t have stopped it for anything. “I want you, Olek.”

 

“Who am I to you?” Olek persisted. Her body called out to him, causing his loins to tighten with their delectably sinful desires.

 

“You’re my husband,” she whispered, confused.

 

“And who is your husband?”

 

“A Prince,” she said, even more so. Why was he talking when he should be kissing her? Her mouth strained for the feel of his, throbbing with need. Her body yearned for him to end his torture of her.

 

“That’s right, and you are my Princess, aren’t you?”

 

“Yes,” she growled before begging, “I’m your Princess. Please, no more, Olek.” Olek couldn’t deny the soft request. Dropping his questioning for the moment, he let her pull him into her body. The rough material of his pants separated their heat as he fitted his arousal next to her.

 

Nadja gasped in the pleasure of it. She began to pant, moaning and squealing with delight as he moved himself against her. “Oh, yes.”

 

“Do you want me inside of you, Nadja?” Olek’s words were bold, uninhibited.

 

“Do you want me to claim you?”

 

“Yes, oh, yes, Olek,” she cried, growing louder. “Claim me. Come inside me. 
Please end it.”

 

Her arms tightened, wrenching delightfully against her restraints as she tried to force him closer.

 

He leaned over to kiss her breast, sucking the water from the delicate bud, lapping into it with his rough tongue. She gasped with pleasure at the sensations his mouth caused. Her body felt like it was falling off the side of a mountain. His hand moved down her flat stomach, stopping to test her wetness for him as he dipped a finger inside her tight holding.“Olek, yes!” she breathed. Her body began to jerk, convulsing violently as he stroked. She was so close. He felt so good, knew just the right way to touch her. The rough rocks ground into the tender flesh of her back. She didn’t care. Pleading, she moaned, “Ah, there, right there, mmm, don’t stop. Please, don’t stop.”