The Princess Affair (22 page)

“It does feel like forever since we’ve been able to catch up.”

Miranda leaned forward conspiratorially. “So. You simply must tell me. Who were you with in Ireland? I couldn’t recognize him from that atrocious photograph.”

Sasha closed her eyes. This was it—the reason she was here instead of in her own bed. She needed Miranda’s help. So why did she feel as though she was about to commit some sort of betrayal?

“I was with Kerry.”

Miranda’s face was blank. “Who is Kerry?”

“Kerry Donovan. The Rhodes scholar I met a few weeks ago. She was at that club in Oxford. Remember?”

“Oh, yes.” Miranda set her drink on the table and frowned. “You’ve kept in touch with her?”

“I’ve seen her a few times. Once in Scotland for that event my father made me do. And then last week I went up to Oxford to watch her play football.”

Miranda’s frown had grown deeper. “And you just whisked her off on a trip to Ireland?”

“Yes.” Sasha felt herself smile. “She’s Irish-American, but she had never been to Ireland before, and so—”

“Sasha.” Miri cut her off, her tone grave.

“What?”

“This…thing. With the American. Is it serious?”

Sasha gripped the edge of the sofa as her temperature rose. “She has a name, Miri.”

“At the moment, I don’t particularly care what her name is. I want to know whether this is just a flirtation that’s lasted longer than usual, or whether you actually have feelings for this woman.”

“I don’t know!” Sasha set down her glass before she accidentally snapped the stem. “All right? I don’t know.”

Miranda’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t think I believe you.”

“I
might
.” Unable to sit still, Sasha began to pace. “I feel…something. I want to see what this connection—or whatever it is—turns into. But how can I do that, when there’s a camera phone on every corner and a telephoto lens in every bloody window?”

“Let me get this straight,” Miranda said. “So to speak. You want to continue seeing this Kerry, but in absolute secrecy? First of all, there’s no such thing. And secondly, you do realize what you’re risking if you pursue this, do you not?”

“What I’m risking?” Sasha braced on arm on the mantle and turned back toward Miranda. “You mean risking that my country might actually come to know me for who I really am? What a travesty!”

“Oh, hush.” Miranda waved her comment away. “Your subjects don’t want you to transform into a precious, rainbow-winged butterfly. They want you to remain exactly as you are.” She jabbed one finger into her leather armrest for emphasis. “Sassy Sasha.”

Sasha thought she might be ill. Miranda was supposed to be her best friend. To support her. To have her best interests at heart. What kind of advice was this?

“So the best thing you can do to hoodwink the public,” Miranda continued, “is to get the rumor mill churning again. For weeks, there hasn’t been so much as a whisper about you with someone. Someone acceptable. That has to change. You need to be seen.”

Sasha opened her mouth to disagree, then shut it. Maybe Miri had a point. She should at least hear out her logic. “What exactly are you suggesting?”

“I’m suggesting that you behave the way you always have.” Miranda rose and went to her, reaching out to lightly stroke her back. The musk of her perfume was cloying. It made her miss Kerry’s pure, earthy scent all the more. “Go to clubs and parties. Dance. Flirt. Be photographed. If you give the paparazzi enough of what they want to see, they won’t go looking for more. And when they’re not looking, you can do whatever you want, with whomever you want.”

Sasha nodded slowly. The vodka was beginning to kick in, dulling her mind and her senses, and the mental fog promised relief from her anxiety. She could do what Miranda was suggesting—play her part on the public stage and later retreat to Kerry’s arms. She could live two lives.

For a little while, at least.

“Ms. Donovan?”

Kerry jerked awake at the sound of the driver’s voice. The car was beginning to slow, and when she leaned forward, she saw the illuminated façade of Clarence House just up ahead.

“We’ve nearly arrived,” the driver continued. “You’d best conceal yourself.”

“Of course. Thank you.” Blinking away her fatigue, Kerry struggled to focus. It was highly unlike her to doze off under any circumstances, and yet she had somehow fallen asleep in the car that was bringing her to London to be reunited with Sasha. Mindful of the driver’s instructions, she reached for the blanket on the seat next to her. Sasha’s text this morning had advised her to hide under it as the car entered the front gate. Feeling rather silly, she unbuckled her seatbelt, lay on the bench, and pulled the scratchy wool over her head and body.

Her eyes felt as gritty as the fabric. The week had been long and grueling as she worked to catch up on her assignments after a weekend abroad, and sleep hadn’t come easily without Sasha beside her. What’s more, she was discouraged by her performance on the soccer field this morning. Having studied until late into her Friday night, she had woken up early for a match against Merton College. It had resulted in Balliol’s first loss, and she could blame no one but herself. Her touches on the ball had been off and her passes inaccurate. Eventually, she’d asked Claudia to sub her out.

The car stopped at the guard booth, and as one of the security personnel conversed with the driver, the unmistakable flare of a flashbulb made her twitch. Forcing herself to be still, she held her breath until the car carried on. Pressing the heel of her hand to her suddenly galloping heart, Kerry tried to be reasonable. There was no way the paparazzi could have caught a shot of her. At most, they had captured the car and the guard’s backside. She wanted to laugh at the thought, but the sound stuck in her throat. The stakes were just too high.

The car drove around to the back of the house and pulled into a parking space. “Here we are, Ms. Donovan,” said the driver.

Relieved, Kerry threw off the blanket. After thanking him, she opened the door and took a deep breath of the fresh night air before noticing Darryl, who stood a few feet away with his hands clasped behind his back.

“Hello, Darryl,” she said, feeling a bit like a wayward adolescent as she clambered out of the car.

“Good evening, Ms. Donovan. This way.”

He led her inside and up a small narrow staircase. The chipped, uneven steps were a far cry from the ornately carpeted flights she’d ascended last time she was here. Apparently, clandestine lovers used the servants’ stairway.

“Princess Alexandra has not yet returned to the residence,” Darryl said over his shoulder. “But you are welcome to wait in her rooms.”

Kerry glanced at her watch. Sasha had asked to meet at Clarence House at ten o’clock. The car had run into some unexpected traffic, and it was quarter past now. Shrugging to herself, she followed Darryl through a nondescript door that opened onto the landing outside Sasha’s apartments. Whatever engagement she’d had tonight must have run longer than expected. Still, as Kerry entered the empty suite, she couldn’t help but feel like an interloper.

“I’ll be just outside,” Darryl said, swinging the doors shut behind her.

“Thank you.”

Kerry walked slowly down the hall and into Sasha’s bedroom. For a moment, she contemplated undressing and waiting for Sasha naked in her own bed. But as appealing as the thought was on one level, she hadn’t just come here to make love. They had barely spoken all week. She wanted to know what Sasha had done, what she’d been thinking of, how she was feeling. More than anything, she wanted to recapture the closeness they’d found in Ireland—a closeness that included the physical but extended far beyond it.

After stowing her bag neatly in a corner, she settled back onto the sofa. There was always more reading to be done, but tonight she needed a break. Once she had reacquainted herself with the remote, she flipped through the channels until she found a sports highlights show. Thankfully, instead of having to watch repeat footage of men trying to break each other’s necks, she could catch up on all the spectacular Premier League goals while waiting for Sasha to return.

*

The sound of a slamming door roused Kerry from her second impromptu nap of the day. Disoriented, she raised her head and immediately grimaced at the crick in her neck. She’d fallen asleep sitting up on Sasha’s couch. Glancing blearily at the clock on the television, she realized it was almost midnight. Where on earth was—

“Hi.” The single, sultry syllable came from the doorway where Sasha stood wearing a velvet green dress with a plunging neckline just short of scandalous. “You look fantastic.”

“Hi.” Kerry swallowed hard as Sasha executed a tight pirouette. The fabric draped artfully over her shoulders to pool at the small of her back, revealing the smooth, milk-white expanse of skin. “And…wow.”

Within moments, Sasha was straddling her on the couch, fingers combing through her hair. Kerry inhaled deeply, but the familiar aroma of lilacs was all but drowned out by the scent of rum. Even as every cell in her body lit up in response to Sasha’s closeness, warning bells throbbed in her brain.

“Are you drunk?”

“No.” Sasha leaned in and nipped at Kerry’s earlobe, then laughed softly. “Well, maybe a little tipsy.”

Kerry let her palms come to rest on Sasha’s waist. “I missed you.”

“Mm. Same.” Sasha slid back along Kerry’s thighs and pressed light, sucking kisses to her neck. “Your skin tastes so good. I want you.”

The wet heat of Sasha’s mouth trailing along her collarbone was quickly fraying Kerry’s self-control. Desire coiled in her belly like a beast, ready to devour her. Making her tremble. She wanted to surrender, but not like this.

“Slow—slow down.” Kerry ran her hands up Sasha’s back and tangled her fingers in the long, dark strands of hair. “I want you, too. But can we talk a little first?”

Sasha sat back, a pout on her lips. “Can’t you see how wound up you’ve made me?”

Kerry stroked her face gently. “You just got here. I’m not sure I had all that much to do with it.” She leaned in to join their lips in a soft kiss. “Tell me about your night. Were you at a family affair, or something more official?”

“Miranda and I went to Mahiki to celebrate the engagement of one of her university friends.” She held her hand up between them, showing off a shimmering gold plastic wristband. “The DJ tonight was incredi—what?”

Realizing the stab of hurt she’d felt must be apparent on her face, Kerry schooled her features and shook her head. But even as she tried to wrestle her emotions back under control, she couldn’t keep her brain from peppering her with questions. Had Sasha deliberately let her believe she was at some official function, or had Kerry simply assumed it?

“Nothing. You were saying, about the DJ?”

Despite her intoxication, Sasha was too savvy to be fooled. “I’ve wounded your feelings.”

Kerry sighed. “No. I’m being too sensitive. I just didn’t realize you were going out socially tonight.” She skimmed her fingers up and down Sasha’s spine. “Now you’ll think I’m petty. Or worse, controlling.”

“I don’t think you’re either.” Sasha slid off to one side and nestled into the curve of Kerry’s arm. “I should have been more clear. I just didn’t want you to feel left out or get the wrong idea. And now, of course, that’s all backfired. Next time, you should come with.”

“You have every right to go out with your friends. I don’t need to be there.”

“To be honest, I would much rather have been here with you the whole night.” Sasha ran two fingers along the seam of Kerry’s jeans. “But Miranda suggested the best way to distract the paparazzi is for me to be seen more in public. A misdirection of sorts.”

“Miranda told you that?” A surge of anxiety pulsed through Kerry’s chest as she remembered Harris’s description of Sasha’s “normal” behavior. “What does that mean for…this?”

“
This
is what I’m trying to protect.” Sasha stared up at Kerry, her eyes liquor-bright but serious. “If I have to do a little partying to keep the media at bay, then I will. I don’t want them getting in our way.”

Kerry nodded. Sasha’s use of “our” made her feel good. On the other hand, she couldn’t suppress the surge of jealousy that had clawed its way into her throat. The beast had slipped its chains. “So if I see a photograph of you flirting with some impossibly wealthy eligible bachelor,” she said, angling her body toward Sasha’s, “how exactly would you like me to react?”

Sasha must have sensed the change in mood, because she lay back to pillow her head on the armrest. When she slid one leg on either side of Kerry’s torso, Kerry’s pulse soared.

“You should remember I’m only pretending.” Sasha laced both hands behind Kerry’s neck to pull her head down. “That it doesn’t mean a thing. That I may tease them, but I’ll never let them do this.”

The kiss was not gentle. At the sensation of Sasha’s tongue thrusting deeply into her mouth, Kerry’s hips bucked. As their pelvises ground together, Sasha wrapped one leg around Kerry’s, heel digging into her calf muscle. When Sasha slid one hand between their bodies, Kerry raised her head with a soft groan. Within moments, Sasha’s fingers slipped inside her jeans and dove beneath the waistband of her boxer briefs.

Sasha’s touch stilled as she blinked up in awe. “So wet.” Moving her fingertips back and forth, she gently sought out the focal point of Kerry’s need. “So hard. So beautiful.”

Electricity hummed down Kerry’s spine and her eyes slammed shut. With a gasp, she forced them to open, needing to see Sasha’s face. Overwhelmed, she could grasp only one thought. She had to feel her. Now.

Pushing up on her left elbow, she skimmed her palm down the warm fabric covering Sasha’s abdomen and thighs. As she reached beneath the hem, her fingers encountered a damp swatch of silk. Twitching it aside, she touched Sasha as she herself was being touched. Triumph sang through her veins as Sasha’s teeth closed down on her lower lip in pleasure. Edging lower, she slid first one, then two fingers just inside.

“You feel so good,” she stuttered, even as Sasha drew intoxicating circles against her own skin. Instinctively, she shifted her own hips in counterpoint to the swirling strokes that threatened to send her over the edge. “Love how you hold me…in you.”