To Charm a Prince (17 page)

And Zara, he corrected himself. His daughter was worth all the pain he had suffered.

Rudolf sipped his brandy and stretched his long legs out. Though he had offered to marry Samantha to save her reputation, he’d been relieved when she refused him. He couldn’t chance making another mistake. He wanted never to marry again, especially to a woman he loved.

He loved her.

Rudolf bolted up in his chair. Yes, he loved her but intended to keep his own counsel. Love led to misery and pain. Always.

Again, the image of Samantha lying in his bed paraded across his mind’s eye, beckoning him to return upstairs. He set the snifter of brandy down on the table and rose from the chair.

Who knew what misfortune tomorrow could bring? He would grab a few weeks of happiness and pretend she was his wife.

With his mind made up, Rudolf left the library in a hurry. He took the stairs two at a time, pausing to calm himself when he stood before his bedchamber door.

Rudolf hesitated. What if she rejected his advances? She had offered to share his bed because she wanted the boys to sleep in her chamber.

Stepping inside the bedchamber, Rudolf looked toward the bed. Wearing only a silk and lace chemise, she had fallen asleep on top of the coverlet.

Rudolf sat on the settee in front of the hearth and removed his boots. Next came his shirt. Then he unfastened his breeches, letting them drop to the floor.

After donning his red silk bedrobe, Rudolf advanced on the bed. He stood there for a long moment and perused her from the ebony mane of hair to alluring curves and delicately boned feet.

Rudolf knelt beside the bed and covered his face with his hands. She must be a good influence, he thought. Because of her, he’d begun speaking to God again.

“Are you asking or thanking?”

He dropped his hands. She was smiling at him.

Rudolf returned her smile. “I was thanking Him for sending you back to my bed. I was wishing . . .”

And then Samantha did the unexpected. She opened her arms in invitation, welcoming him into the bed.

With a groan of mingling relief and desire, Rudolf climbed onto the bed and pulled her into his arms. One hand cupped the back of her head to hold her steady; the other imprisoned her against the hard, muscular planes of his body. His lips captured hers in a slow, smoldering, soul-stealing kiss . . . a kiss filled with the budding love he refused to express in words. She returned his kiss in kind, pouring all of her love and need into it, pressing the softness of her body against him, instinctively trying to become one with him.

“Let me love you,” Rudolf whispered.

“Yes,” Samantha breathed against his lips, swept away on the waves of his passion.

Rudolf rolled her onto her back and leaned over her. Dipping his head, he captured her mouth again and flicked his tongue across the crease in her lips, seeking and gaining entrance to the sweetness beyond, possessing her mouth even as his body would soon fill hers, feeling her tremble with desire.

Without relinquishing her lips, Rudolf caressed her soft cheek, her slender throat, her delicate shoulders. Breaking their kiss, he gazed into her incredibly blue eyes. “So soft, so sweet.”

Rudolf felt her arms slide up his chest and hook around his neck. She pulled his face closer until his mouth covered hers again. When she flicked her tongue across the crease of his lips, Rudolf groaned and gave her entrance to his mouth, reveling in the sensation of her wanting to explore him.

Hearing her sigh of satisfaction, Rudolf took control again. His mouth left hers; he sprinkled dozens of feathery light kisses on her eyelids, temples, throat.

Rudolf rose from the bed, smiling when she moaned in protest, and ordered, “Open your eyes.”

When Samantha obeyed, Rudolf shrugged out of his bedrobe. He recognized the gleam of desire in her eyes as she slid her gaze down the length of his body. Then he leaned close and drew her chemise down her body and tossed it aside, exposing her naked beauty. He worshipped her with his eyes before reaching with one hand to caress her from throat to feet.

Samantha held out her arms again in invitation. Rudolf knelt on the foot of the bed. Lifting her legs, he kissed the bottoms of her feet and flicked his tongue teasingly across her insteps.

Keeping her gaze captive, Rudolf kissed each of her toes. From there, his lips slid to her ankles, her legs, her thighs, her belly, her throat, and her lips. He turned her over and kissed her from the nape of her neck to her ankles.

“Roll over.”

When she did, Rudolf lay on top of her, his muscular hardness covering her softness completely. His kiss was demanding, his hands reaching down to capture her wrists and drawing her arms over her head.

Holding her immobile with one hand, Rudolf slipped his free hand to her breasts and caressed each in turn, flicking a finger across her passion-darkened nipples, already hardened with her arousal.

“Let me touch you,” Samantha whispered.

Rudolf wasn’t ready to relinquish control yet. “And you will touch me,
”
he said, staring down at her. “You will touch me when I allow it.” He lowered his head to her breasts and tormented her nipples with his tongue.

When she moaned and squirmed, Rudolf captured a nipple with his mouth and suckled leisurely upon it. Then he lavished the same attention on her other breast driving her wild with need.

Rudolf slipped a hand to the crevice between her legs to caress her there. “You are wet for me.
”
He knelt, one leg on each side of her body, and gazed down at her, saying, “Look at me.”

When Samantha opened her eyes, he told her, ‘“Touch me now.”

Samantha reached out to caress his chest. He closed his eyes and let her hands wander wherever they would. Rudolf groaned when she slid her fingers, like threads of silk, across his nipples as he’d done to her.

Feeling himself losing control, Rudolf grabbed her hands and spread her legs. He caressed her with the tip of his manhood and then thrust forward inside her. Instinctively, she wrapped her legs around his waist and met each of his thrusts with her own.

Samantha gasped and melted against him, flooding him with her juices. Rudolf lost control, plunging deep inside her. He groaned and shuddered and spilled his seed.

Recovering himself a few minutes later, Rudolf opened his eyes and gazed at Samantha. She had surrendered her body to him completely. He wanted her heart and her soul, too.

Falling on the bed to one side, Rudolf refused to let her go but kept her imprisoned against the side of his body. “I think you have killed me,” he said.

Samantha raised herself on one elbow and, with love shining from her eyes, gazed at him. A smile flirted with her lips when she said, “Next time, Your Highness, be  careful what you wish for.”

Chapter 9

Morning had aged into a feeble old man by the time Samantha awakened the next day. She yawned and stretched and then looked down at her nudity. The memories of the previous evening came rushing back to her, making her feel warm all over.

Samantha closed her eyes and tried to recapture her night of love with the prince. Again she felt his lips on hers, his hands caressing her in the most intimate places, his hardness filling her, carrying her with him to paradise.

You are not his wife
, an inner voice reminded her, making her feel a twinge of guilt.

Samantha banished that troubling thought. Her reputation was ruined whether she bedded him or not. She would have the next fifty years alone to ponder her sins once she returned to London.

Rising from the bed, Samantha washed the sleep from her face and donned her white muslin morning dress. She could hardly wait to see her pretend husband and sons.

Leaving the bedchamber, Samantha walked down the corridor to the stairs. She found Giles tied to the banister in the foyer. The deerhound wagged his tail when he spied her.

“What are you doing here alone?” Samantha said, freeing him. “Come with me.”

She and the dog headed for the dining room. The room was empty except for the majordomo and a footman.

“I wondered when you would be down,” Durwin said, setting a cup of hot coffee in front of her. “His Highness told me not to disturb you. Will you be eating lunch or would you prefer Cook prepare a breakfast food?”

“If luncheon is already made, I’ll have that,” Samantha answered him. She gestured to the dog, saying, “Sit here beside me, Giles.” The deerhound sat at attention beside her and then rested his head on her lap.

Luncheon consisted of a thick and hearty yellow split pea soup. Accompanying the soup was toast as well as a medley of potted mushrooms, chicken, and ham.

“Where are His Highness and the boys?”

“His Highness has taken the boys to Dumfries to purchase them clothing,” Durwin answered.

Samantha wondered why the prince hadn’t awakened her to accompany them. She was pleased that he’d taken a liking to her soon-to-be adopted sons.

“When His Highness returns, tell him I am in the small drawing room.” Samantha rose from her chair. “Come along, Giles.”

Samantha climbed the stairs to the second-floor drawing room and sat on the blue-and-gold upholstered settee that perched in front of the hearth. “Giles, I am going to entertain you.” She lifted her violin out of its case.

Holding the violin steady on her shoulder, Samantha lifted the bow and began to play. Her song held a jaunty air with an irresistible rhythm that flowed into a feeling of elemental forces. Her talented bow conjured celestial winds, sunbeams dancing across water, a chuckling brook.

Giles lifted his head and howled like a wolf. Laughing, Samantha stopped playing and put her violin back in its case. “Up, Giles.” She patted the settee beside her.

The deerhound leaped onto the settee and flopped onto his side. Then he rested his head on her lap.

Samantha stroked his head, the motion as soothing to her as the dog. Without ceasing her patting, she relaxed back against the settee and closed her eyes. The image of the prince appeared in her mind’s eye, and she enjoyed a pleasant hour reliving their intimate activities and whispered words. Like an old friend, insidious insecurity surfaced and wove itself around her heart and mind.

Samantha knew she loved the prince and could never marry Alexander Emerson, even if he still wanted her. She knew the prince felt a fondness for her that could never be validated with marriage. She also knew she would be a social pariah once she returned to London.

“Lady Samantha?”

“I am here.”

Drake and Grant raced across the drawing room toward her. Carrying several packages, Prince Rudolf followed behind them.

“The prince bought us new clothing,” Drake told her, his excitement obvious.

Grant laughed out loud. “He ordered that angry man to put the clothes in our bedchamber.”

“We ate lunch in a real inn,” Drake exclaimed.

“I’m so glad you had an enjoyable day,” Samantha said. She looked at the prince, asking, “Why didn’t you awaken me?”

Rudolf didn’t answer her. Instead, his dark gaze had fixed on the deerhound. “Do not allow the dog to lie on the furniture. Down, Giles.”

In an instant, Giles leaped off the settee. He sat at attention in front of the prince and wagged his tail.

“To answer your question,” Rudolf said to Samantha, “you appeared too comfortable to awaken this morning.”

Drake leaned close and told her, “We bought you presents.”

“You did?” Samantha smiled at him. “I love surprises.”

“AIl girls love surprises,” Grant said.

“So do boys,” Rudolf said.

“Do you love surprises?” Samantha asked the eight-year-old.

Drake nodded. “I love fairy godmothers more.”

Samantha felt her heart melt at the boy’s words. Tears welled up in her eyes, but she fought them back.

“Holy hell, she’s weeping again,” Grant said. “I’m never having a wife.”

Samantha laughed through her tears. She glanced at the prince, who winked at her.

“Give this to Lady Samantha,” Rudolf told the ten-year-old.

Grant lifted the package out of the prince’s hand. Blushing with nervous embarrassment, the boy told her, “I chose this for you.”

The box contained a lady’s cane. Created from bamboo, the cane sported a top made from hardened rosin and decorated with brass. Making it more appealing, the artisan had painted flowers down the length of the cane.

“What a beautiful cane,” Samantha exclaimed, keeping her expression placid.

The last thing she wanted was a cane. Limping was bad enough; she had no desire to announce her handicap by leaning on a cane.

“You can use it when your hip hurts,” Drake told her.

“I certainly will,” she replied. “Thank you for thinking of me.”

“That isn’t the best part,” Grant told her. “Look here.”

The ten-year-old lifted the cane out of her hand and twisted its top. Then he pulled the handle off the cane to reveal an Italian stiletto.

“I will carry this cane whenever I go walking and will feel secure, even if I am alone.” Samantha flicked a glance at the prince. If she’d had this with her a couple of weeks earlier, she would not be in this untenable position.

“Who wants to give her this one?” Rudolf asked, holding another long, beribboned gift.

“I do,” Grant said. Seeing his brother’s disappointed expression, he told him, “You’ll give her the next one.”

Samantha accepted the gift from the ten-year-old. She unfastened the ribbon and then opened the box, exclaiming, “What a beautiful parasol.” She lifted it out of the box. Adorned with ribbons and lace, the parasol had an ivory handle inlaid with semiprecious stones.

“Parasols can communicate a lady’s thoughts,” Samantha told them. “If His Highness harbors affection for me, he would ask to carry my parasol. If I snap my parasol open decisively”—she demonstrated—“I am telling His Highness I do not like the topic of conversation, and he is being too bold with his attentions.”

“Drake, here is your gift to the lady,” the prince said.

The boy lifted the slim, rectangular box out of the prince’s hand and gave Samantha a flirtatious smile. “I chose this for you.”