A Prince for Sophie

A Prince for Sophie [Magic and Love 3] by Morgan Ashbury Siren Publishing, Inc. www.sirenpub.com Copyright ©2008 by M...

Author: Ashbury Morgan

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A Prince for Sophie [Magic and Love 3] by Morgan Ashbury

Siren Publishing, Inc. www.sirenpub.com

Copyright ©2008 by Morgan Ashbury First published in 2008, 2008 NOTICE: This eBook is licensed to the original purchaser only. Duplication or distribution to any person via email, floppy disk, network, print out, or any other means is a violation of International copyright law and subjects the violator to severe fines and/or imprisonment. This notice overrides the Adobe Reader permissions which are erroneous. This eBook cannot be legally lent or given to others. This eBook is displayed using 100% recycled electrons.

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CONTENTS Dedication A PRINCE FOR SOPHIE Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Epilogue A PRINCE FOR SOPHIE Author's Bio **** 3


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A PRINCE FOR SOPHIE Magic and Love 3 Morgan Ashbury EROTIC ROMANCE ****

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**** Siren Publishing, Inc. www.SirenPublishing.com 6


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ABOUT THIS E-BOOK: Your purchase of this e-book allows you to one LEGAL copy for your own personal use. It is ILLEGAL to send your copy to someone who did not pay for it. Distribution of this e-book, in whole or in part, online, offline, in print or in any way or any other method currently known or yet to be invented, is forbidden without the prior written permission of both the publisher and the copyright owner of this book. A PRINCE FOR SOPHIE Magic and Love 3 Copyright © 2008 by Morgan Ashbury ISBN: 1-60601-012-3 First E-book Publication: February 2008 Cover design by Jinger Heaston All cover art and logo copyright © 2008 by Siren Publishing, Inc. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission. All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental. PUBLISHER Siren Publishing, Inc. www.SirenPublishing.com

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Dedication This is to my Sonja. Not a daughter of my body, but a daughter of my heart. Morgan Ashbury [Back to Table of Contents]

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A PRINCE FOR SOPHIE Magic and Love 3 Morgan Ashbury Copyright © 2008 Prologue "Music and laughter make such a lovely symphony, don't they, Eugenia?" Eugenia smiled over at her sister, whose comment echoed exactly her own thoughts. They were floating, unseen, in the corner of the music room. The family had gathered for an impromptu celebration in honor of the just announced engagement of Princess Rachel of Boisdemer to Peter Jones. Michael, Rachel's oldest brother, had chosen a selection of light rock music to play on the sound system while Alex had ordered champagne. "Indeed they do. I must say, I'm feeling better than I have in a long, long time." "It's because that nice young Peter Jones said he believed in us, and we didn't even have to suggest it to him." Eugenia narrowed her eyes as she observed Alex and Hannah, who both pretended not to be ignoring each other. "Well, Gwendolyn, two down and two to go, though I must say if our plan doesn't work with those older ones I don't 10


know what we'll do! Perhaps this is why we usually provide our services only for the young." "Oh, piffle." Gwendolyn's uncharacteristic response startled her sister. "Piffle?" Eugenia asked, sounding out the word carefully. "Yes, piffle. These two are more deserving of our help than most of those coquettes and do-nothings we aided in the past." Then she sighed. "Although they are proving to be quite a challenge." "They are indeed." Eugenia then focused her attention on the king's eldest daughter, Sophie. Her bearing was regal, her long black hair fashioned in an elegant chignon. Even as a child, Eugenia remembered fondly, Princess Sophie had been dainty and lady-like, always the proper princess. And those traits had only grown over the years. Her Highness never left her suite without being perfectly turned out. She was the epitome of a well-bred gentlewoman. Before her elder brother had married, she'd proven herself a talented chatelaine in managing the royal household, too. "She deserves to be a Queen," Eugenia said aloud. "Hannah?" "Well yes, of course Hannah. But I was thinking of Sophie. It's just too bad that there are no Crown Princes available." "But Eugenia, you know that's not so! As a matter of fact, one is arriving in a few days. He's one of Philip's groomsmen." "Him? Oh, no, he'll never do for our Sophie. No, never."

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"But Eugenia," Gwendolyn opened her hands and a book appeared. "Look, see? It's even written down, right here in the Book!" Eugenia scowled as she gave the Book only a passing glance. "To use your word, Gwendolyn, piffle. That one certainly doesn't deserve to even be in the same room as our Sophie. Why, the very idea!" "I rather like him, myself. He's a good boy." "A good boy? That one is a rake-hell and a wastrel, if ever I saw one." Eugenia turned her attention back to the party. Seeing the two betrothed couples so obviously in love lifted her spirits. Sparing another glance at the older couple, she returned to contemplating Sophie. She folded her arms, her resolve strong. Her Sophie would be a Queen. It would just take a little creativity. Everything would turn out to be a happily-ever-after for everyone, if it took every ounce of magic she possessed. [Back to Table of Contents]

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Chapter 1 "My God, now she is beautiful." "Which one?" His Royal Highness Crown Prince Stephan of Montgermane turned his head slightly, flashing a quick smile at his friend groom-to-be Philip de la Croix. He waved his hand toward the women gathered by the front pew of the Royal Chapel, awaiting the commencement of the wedding rehearsal. "All of them of course, my friend, but I was especially looking at that tall woman with black hair and violet eyes. She looks beautiful and untouchable at the same time." "It has been a long time since you've visited us. The lady is both beautiful and untouchable. That's Sophie." "That is the Ice Princess?" The question had escaped his lips before he remembered whom he was talking to. He winced and shot Philip an apologetic look. "Sorry. I meant no offence to your sister." "No offence taken. I had heard some were calling her that. The really sad thing is I can understand why. Ah, there's my Kate. Excuse me." Stephan could only shake his head at how besotted the man was. Of course, Philip's brother, Michael, was the same with his Helene. The two de la Croix men, it would seem, had each found that one woman who was everything to them. It hadn't happened for Stephan yet. Some wondered if it ever would. He himself rarely considered the matter. There were, as far as he was concerned, far too many lovely ladies in the 13


world to limit himself to just one—though he did manage to restrict himself to one at a time. He would never divulge the truth that there hadn't even been one for more than a year. Neither had there been nearly as many as the gossip hounds would have the reading public believe. The paparazzi of the world seemed enamored of believing him involved with every woman he spoke to. Stephan smiled when he considered that the only person who resented his press-bestowed moniker of 'the playboy prince' was his mother. He focused his attention back on Sophie. She'd not been present earlier when he'd arrived and been welcomed by the family in the solarium. He'd been too entranced meeting Philip's fiancée and her utterly charming family for her absence to have registered. As he watched, the two children he had met earlier, the son and the niece of Philip's fiancée, Catharine, ran up to Sophie, each grabbing one of her hands. They pulled her away from the other women, and were chattering excitedly. Gracefully lowering herself to a crouch, she put herself on eye-level with the pair. Ah, you don't look so untouchable now. In fact she looked soft and sweet. She was the sister of two of his best friends in the world, one of whom had just mildly warned him away from her. So he wouldn't go after her, but he couldn't help but wonder what Sophie de la Croix tasted like. She turned her head slightly and looked directly at him. Her gaze became cold, instantly and implacably. He nearly shivered from the frost of it. Then she turned her attention 14


back to the kids. He had the impression that he'd been summarily dismissed, as if he were of no consequence. Well, now. Friendly warnings aside, he couldn't let such an implicit challenge go unmet. He directed his footsteps toward her, his timing impeccable, arriving just as the children ran off. He extended his hand to help her to her feet. He smiled, knowing she was too well bred not to take the assistance offered—especially in front of so many people. She placed her hand in his, rising quickly to her feet. Before she could withdraw, he closed his grip and brought her hand to his lips, placing a lingering kiss there. The entire time, he kept his gaze riveted to hers, pouring as much heat as he could muster into his expression. When she looked away, he felt the satisfaction of knowing he'd made his point. Choosing an intimate tone to match his look he said, "Your Highness, how nice to see you again." "Thank you, Your Highness. Welcome to Boisdemer." He smiled, despite the fact that her 'welcome' had sounded more like 'go away'. "Your family welcomed me earlier, but now I feel truly well-received." "I'm ever so happy to have been of service, then." He wouldn't have thought it was possible for her back to become any stiffer or her bearing any more forbidding. Sophie was proving herself to be a champion of the royal brush-off. He admired the talent, as it was one his mother tapped on occasion, and one which he'd failed, so far, to emulate. He still held her hand, and was well aware of her steady pull in trying to break free. That of course would never 15


do. Unable to resist, he leaned forward just slightly, stroking her palm with his index finger. "Oh, you haven't begun to be of service yet, little one, but I can absolutely guarantee that when you have, we will both be very happy—and very satisfied." The flash of her eyes screamed indignation, yet the rosy color deepening on her cheeks told him something else again. He released her hand, and waited to see what she would do. He admired her composure. She neither created a scene, nor cowered away from him. Instead, a mantel of formality seemed to wrap around her as she tilted her head up a few degrees and to one side. "Your mother, Queen Margaret, is well?" "She is, thank you." "You have a younger brother, as I recall. I'm sure Queen Margaret is quite proud of him." That was the most skillfully delivered insult he'd ever received. He wanted to laugh out loud. There was nothing icy about the look in Sophie's eyes now. He'd roused her temper, and it was a hot one. Seeing it begged the question of what other of her responses would be hot. "You can ask her opinion of her sons the day after tomorrow. She and my father are arriving for the wedding, and will be staying for a few days, to visit with King Alexandre. I had planned only a short visit myself. But I do believe I shall extend my stay." "Delightful." That one word sounded like a vile curse. Oh, she was good. "I'm so glad you approve, little one. A few extra days 16


should give me plenty of opportunity to get to know you better." "I'm certain my country can provide you with far more exciting diversions for your entertainment than I can offer. As a matter of fact, I'll suggest to Michael that he take a personal interest in your itinerary." "Oh, I can think of nothing more exciting than getting into your ... head, Your Highness." He had to believe that at least a little bit of her reaction, her eyes widening as she finally took one step back and her cheeks turning even redder, had to be attributable to a sensual awareness of him. "If you will excuse me, Your Highness, I'm being negligent in my duties as bridal attendant. I need to go see to them now." The sudden retreat took him by surprise. Still, she'd held on to her poise, despite her extreme irritation with him. Rather than an ice princess, Sophie de la Croix appeared to be a woman of deep passion. He suddenly was quite intent on tasting the lovely Princess Sophie. The sooner, the better. **** The nerve of that man! Sophie stalked over to stand beside her sister, Rachel, joining the circle that surrounded the bride-to-be, Catharine. She tried to focus her attention on female conversation, but was still simmering from her encounter with Stephan Benet. She had heard vague rumors about his wastrel life 17


style. She would die before she admitted to anyone that she'd seen his exploits reported in various European newspapers. They called him the playboy prince, and from what she had read, the man must have the stamina of a bull and a revolving door on his bedroom. That thought exploded into full-blown, colorful images, and Sophie felt her face heating in shame. She needed to close Stephan out of her thoughts immediately. Besides, he had only flirted with her because she was the sole unattached female of legal age in the vicinity. She turned her attention back to the important business at hand. The day after tomorrow, her younger brother was going to be married. This was, she mused, the largest collection of women she'd ever been a part of. The amazing thing was that she did feel as if she belonged. She already loved her soon-to-be sisterin-law. Catharine was warm and loving, a good mother, and a welcome addition to the family. She had only just met Catharine's sister-in-law, Pam, two days before when the rest of the Jones family had arrived. She liked them all. They would be doubly related since Sophie's sister Rachel was going to marry Peter, Catharine's brother and their own security chief, and if that wasn't a perfect match, she didn't know what was. If she hadn't determined years before that there would be no husband or children for her, she could almost be jealous of her siblings' good fortune. "No, really, Alex told mom she couldn't leave the country unless she agreed to marry him!" 18


"They are so much in love," Rachel added to Catharine's summation. "It hurts my heart to see them not speaking." "Oh, my goodness." Pamela turned so that she automatically included Sophie in the circle. Nurturing, caring and inclusion seemed to be second nature to these new relatives. Sophie gave her a smile she knew looked timid. She couldn't help it. She'd been painfully uncomfortable with new acquaintances for as long as she could remember. "I have never seen Papa as happy as he has been since meeting your mother-in-law," Sophie added. "We can only hope they resolve this difficulty between them, soon." At just that moment, Hannah, with a hand held each by Jamie, Catharine's son and Michelle, Pam's daughter, came into the chapel. Sophie nearly laughed, because Catharine and Pam immediately looked guilty, and turned so that Hannah could not see their faces. "So," Catharine said brightly to Sophie. "I noticed the newly arrived heartthrob seemed quite taken with you." Sophie had to struggle not to let her discomfort show. She was very fond of Catharine, but the woman was far more frank in her conversation that she was used to. "I think he was taken with the fact that I am of the female persuasion," she said, unable to stop her blush. "Hmm, it would seem, from that color on your face, that you noticed he was of the male persuasion," Catharine teased. "Not at all. I actually found him rude and forward."

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She was saved from further potential embarrassment by the arrival of her father and Archbishop Drapeau, who would perform the marriage ceremony. Sophie paid attention to the cleric as he gave a small homily about the importance of family in these modern times. She smiled when he frowned at Philip and told him in no uncertain terms that he was to ensure that Catharine visited her family overseas on a regular basis. "A matter I wanted to broach. It would be fitting if the wedding ceremony was performed in both French and English. Will this be a problem, madame?" he asked Hannah. "Heavens, no. We're Canadian. We're used to that." "Wonderful. Now, who is escorting the bride? I hesitate to say 'give away the bride' because so many of today's brides are quite insistent that they are not property to be bestowed." Sophie laughed with everyone else, even as Craig, Catharine's oldest brother, raised his hand. "Now you sir, preceded by these lovely ladies, will come down the aisle and stop here, by the first pew. Not the lovely ladies, just you and the bride. Here, maman will kiss the bride's cheek, as will His Majesty. Then sir, once you have placed your sister's hand upon his royal highness', you will be seated. Your Majesty, Madam Jones, you will come out from your seats, and each stand here, about four paces behind your individual child. Before the vows, you will walk together to light the candle, which is a symbol of the blending of two into one. Now, if the attendants will please line up, in order, we shall go over the ceremony." 20


Sophie didn't realize what had happened until Archbishop Drapeau beamed at them, his hands spread wide, telling them how wonderful they looked. Catharine and Philip had chosen to have as simple a wedding as possible. In the annals of royal weddings, Sophie knew it would likely win the prize as being the smallest. There were only two attendants on each side, not counting the ring bearer and flower girl. Rachel, as maid of honor, would be escorted from the church, to the limousine, then from the car to the palace, and out onto the balcony by Peter, whom Philip had chosen as best man. That was sweet, all things considered. But it left Sophie with the realization of a harsh reality. She looked over just in time to intercept a smug smile and cheeky wink. Wonderful. Her escort for the proceedings would be the Crown Prince of Montgermane. [Back to Table of Contents]

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Chapter 2 Alex could see Hannah just out of the corner of his eye. It had been too many days since he'd held her, too many nights since she'd shared his bed. He ached for her the way he imagined a man might ache for an arm or leg that had been severed. They had both lost their tempers, both said things they never should have said. He'd never been in this position before, and he didn't know how to take them back to where he wanted them to be. He regretted the rift between them, but not his proposal. And it shamed him, while he stood in this house of God, to admit that a part of him, a prideful part, was damned if he would be the one to apologize, or relent. Last time he had, for he had clearly been at fault. But this time, he could not see how wanting to marry the woman he loved put him in the wrong. He directed his attention to the matter at hand as the archbishop began to outline the wedding ceremony to be performed the day after tomorrow. "I'll give a brief homily as to the purpose of marriage in these modern times. Under the circumstances, I think I can get away with talking about God's will bringing two souls from different continents and different walks of life together. After all, half a world separated you, and yet here you are, perfectly suited, each half of one whole. How special is it that of all the people in the world, you found each other? There can be no doubt that you were meant to be together." 22


Alex couldn't prevent his gaze from going to Hannah. He knew the archbishop was speaking of the children, but the man's words could so easily apply to Hannah and himself, as well. As he watched, she returned his gaze. Only a few feet separated them, so he could see the emotion etched on her face and swimming in her eyes. Longing and regret, love and pain. Perhaps some of the responsibility for the mess they were in was his, after all. He'd known all along that Hannah simply hadn't been thinking in terms of forever. Knowing her and loving her, he knew her expectations had nothing to do with what lay between them, and everything to do with a previous marriage in which she had been denied the simplest desire, the most basic need. Her life before they met had taught her not to reach out, or expect anything more than what was at hand. This was why she thought she wasn't 'queen material', as she'd said. He'd understood she believed they were only having an affair. He'd allowed her to go on thinking so, even when he had plans, hoping that time would be his ally and she would see how they were meant to be together. My God, I can't do without her. "Does anyone have any questions?" Alex had dozens, but not for the archbishop. He turned to Hannah, not sure what he would say to her, but knowing he needed to say something. The expression in her eyes held him back. Looking around, he understood. Here and now belonged to Catharine and Philip. He nodded, ever so slightly. Her smile warmed him. He 23


watched her as she moved off to give her daughter a hug. They would all be returning to the palace for dinner. Perhaps there would be time, after, to speak privately with her. **** Hannah's heart proved to be divided. It was filled with joy, surrounded as she was by all of her family, seeing the happiness in her daughter's eyes. It was also broken into tiny pieces, being so close to Alex and yet so very far away from him. How could something that had felt so right suddenly have gone so wrong? In one corner of the family salon, Michael, Craig and Peter were having an in-depth conversation. Seeing her two sons together after so many years of separation warmed her down to her soul. "You look misty." She turned to her daughter-in-law, Pam. "I am. Just looking at my boys." "Craig was ecstatic when he heard you'd found Peter. Then he wanted to wring his brother's neck." Hannah laughed. "He wasn't the only one. Catharine nearly let her long-lost brother have it for being so long-lost. Jamie came to his new uncle's rescue." Dinner was announced, and she entered the solarium with her family, listening to the banter between the siblings—the Jones siblings and the de la Croix ones—pleased to be part of it all, yet feeling separate. Alex, she noted, was also quiet. A 24


tension hummed between them, growing more taut with each passing hour. When Stephan proposed a toast to the bride-to-be, Catharine and Philip exchanged a look so tender it brought a lump to her throat. As soon as she could, when the dinner was over, she excused herself. Merriment filled the air and she wanted to cry. There was no way she would do anything to dampen anyone's celebration. Catharine deserved every drop of happiness and Hannah would in no way detract from that. She needed the air, the evening breeze from the ocean, the soft beat of waves, and the warmth of sand under her feet. She needed for there to be no walls around her, and no people near her. The night opened its arms and took her in, surrounding her in a cloak of soulful darkness and the sounds of silence. The air was fresh and alive, and Hannah knew she'd made the right choice. It didn't matter that tears tracked down her cheeks, here. Within the sanctuary of the night she was free to just be, and to feel. She made her way to the back of the grounds, and the stairs that led to the beach. Her eyes had adjusted, and she could see there were several chaises stretched out over the sand, waiting. She nearly sat, but then, kicking off her shoes, walked to the edge of the water instead. The gentle waves lapped over her toes, a constant rhythm like a heartbeat, calming and soothing her. The echoes of the scene in the Chapel rolled through her. While she knew the priest had been instructing Catharine and 25


Philip when he'd spoken of destiny, he could just as well have been speaking to Alex and her. As if pulled by an unseen force, she had turned to him in that moment, and the power of the emotions she'd felt from him had left her shaken. The one thing she had no doubt about was that he loved her. He loved her more deeply and completely than she had ever dreamed of being loved. She loved him, too. And as the day approached when she would have to get on a plane and return to her home, the reality of that move—the finality of it—was eating at her soul. She knew she could live the rest of her life without him. But that life would have no joy in it. A joyless existence is what she'd had all of the forty-eight years she'd been on this earth before coming to this almost magical kingdom. Was that the future she wanted? A soft sound alerted her. Not unlike that first time, sensing she was no longer alone, she turned her head slightly. Her heart pounded just as hard in her chest as it had those few weeks ago. The only difference was she knew the whole of the man now, the strength and the heart of him. Her body craved, and her soul languished. **** She seemed more a goddess to him at this moment than she had that first time he'd encountered her on a lonely stretch of beach. For now he knew her heart and her soul. Now her body was as familiar to him as his own, and oh, how the flavor of her had invaded him completely. 26


He had told her their affair was over unless or until she agreed to marry him. But under the cover of darkness, here on this beach, how could he not go to her? How could he not touch her? Words, he knew, would only complicate what their bodies deemed so simple and so true. They didn't, either of them, need more words. They needed each other. She'd been crying. His heart lurched, because he knew he had a part in her tears. Reaching out, his touch gentle, he cupped her face, his thumbs stroking her cheeks where the tracks of moisture glistened in the moonlight. Then he lifted her face and kissed her. Her lips parted so sweetly. His tongue raced out, overjoyed to stroke and taste and dance with hers. He was addicted to her, he knew that now, as everything inside him turned right with sips of her. Leaving her face, his hands caressed shoulders, slid around her back, smoothed over her bottom before pulling her close. Not words, but sounds, certainly. Her whimper, the most eloquent plea he'd ever heard wrapped around his heart. How could he not give them both what they so desperately craved? She held him, and he hardened instantly. With impatient moves, he raised her skirt, his hands seeking soft flesh. His fingers homed in on that silky needy spot between her thighs. The gush of moisture fired his blood. The primal beast in him reacted to the scent of her arousal in the most elemental way. He worked his fingers in and out of her, cupping her 27


bottom, bringing her closer, then closer still. When she panted, when her fingers clutched at his back, he picked her up, carried her the few feet to one of the waiting chaises and laid her down. He didn't strip either of them. There wasn't time. He merely freed himself from his pants, pushed the crotch of her panties aside, and plunged. He'd never been naked inside her before. He knew he wouldn't last. The feeling was so hot, so good, he couldn't stop himself from indulging in her, wanted nothing more than to be drenched in her completely. She'd wrapped her legs around him and was returning his thrusts. He could feel the strain, the reaching, as she chased her climax. She'd told him, during one of their long-into-the-night chats that she could have no more children. In the moment before he flooded her womb with his seed, he wished with all his heart she could have his. Then her tunnel clutched and convulsed, shivering down his entire length. Her orgasm drew out his own and he was lost in the glory of her. **** The breeze was warm and the sky just gathering light when she opened her eyes. Hannah lay still for a long moment, simply watching Alex sleep. They'd passed the entire night on one of the chaises on the beach without saying a word. Every moment with him, his touch, his taste, his loving, had healed every crack in her soul. She felt complete now, as she'd only ever felt here, in this country, with this man. 28


But they hadn't resolved their differences. They'd merely ignored them for a short time. The darkness of the night was good for that, for not looking at what was difficult, for taking and feasting and being greedy. The darkness allowed you to do what the light of day would not. Alex slept on his side facing her, and he was the most handsome man she had ever known. He was also the most dear to her heart. Closing her eyes, she returned to that place in the night, to those stolen hours where the glide of his flesh against hers beat back all thought. She'd tasted and taken in turn, and the flavor of him intoxicated her still. She couldn't go on this way. Neither of them could. Her daughter would be married tomorrow. Two days after that, Hannah was scheduled to fly home. She nearly laughed out loud. If the king will let me go. He'd not said anything since that threat. She had no doubt he was capable of following through with it. As carefully as possible, she slid away from Alex and got to her feet. It took her only a moment to right her clothes. Her panties, now nothing more than a torn handful of fabric and lace, lay on the sand in a small silky heap. Grateful her skirt had pockets, she gathered the scrap and stuffed it in one of them. Then, with one last lingering look at the man she loved, she turned and headed for the stairs. She would shower, and she would eat. And then she would take herself someplace quiet and try to decide how she was going to live the rest of her life. [Back to Table of Contents] 29


Chapter 3 "Allow me to say good morning properly, Your Highness." Those words were Sophie's only warning before Stephan pulled her into his arms. She put her hands on his muscled biceps and pushed at the same moment she opened her mouth to protest. He'd obviously been waiting for just that because he swooped in and covered her parted lips with his own. She'd never been kissed like this before. Never had a man taste her with his tongue the way Stephan was doing. She couldn't think, she could only feel. Heat moved over and through her as the wonderful flavor in her mouth exploded into something quivery and alive. Her belly clutched, her nipples hardened, and she imagined she was floating on air. Unable to do anything else, her tongue began to shyly slide against his, joining in the dance. Her arms wound around his neck, her fingers delving through the silky hair at his nape as her tongue stroked more boldly against his, the action thrilling her, racing her heart, speeding her blood. One of his hands stroked her bottom and the compulsion to move closer swamped her. When she gave in to it, when she pressed herself more tightly against him, she felt a ridge, hard and long, pressing against her belly. Startled, she pulled back, the reality of what he had done, what she had allowed him to do bursting the bubble of sensuality that had enveloped her. 30


Clichéd as it was, Sophie's hand came up, her arm in a swinging arc, intending to deliver a slap as sharp as his flavor and as hard as the cloth-covered penis that had poked her. He grabbed her wrist, easily holding her off. "You kissed me back, little one. If you had not, I would allow you the slap. A fair trade for the pleasure of you on my tongue. But you did kiss me back—and very hotly, too. So I am saving you from committing a hypocritical act." Sophie's mouth opened, but before she could speak, he leaned closer, his grin entirely too appealing for her peace of mind. "I like the taste of you, Sophie de la Croix. I'll be kissing you again." Sophie was stunned into silence. How could he function well enough to deliver that snappy line, and then walk oh-socasually away? Well, of course he could. That kiss hadn't done a darn thing to him except give him something to laugh about. He was, after all, the playboy prince. She doubted he had earned that nickname by keeping his hands and his mouth to himself. "'I'll be kissing you again'. Ha! We'll just see about that!" She nodded once, sharply, proud of her retort, regardless of the fact that the man it was directed at didn't hear it. Then, for a long moment, she stared into space, her head slowly shaking in disbelief at her own actions. Stephan had scrambled her brain and taken all the oxygen from her body. She wanted to affirm that he had offended her, too. But in her secret heart of hearts she could not claim offence. The impulse to slap him had been fleeting, and brought on more by the smug look he'd worn when she'd broken the kiss. 31


How did one discourage such a man? It was something Sophie had never had to consider before. Generally, she was able to put men off with almost no effort at all. Yes, part of that was her innate coldness. But part of it had to do with the decision she had made so long ago. She would never marry, never have children of her own. Something of her decision, of her resolve, must always have been obvious to everyone. No one had ever dared to even encroach on her personal space, let alone grab her up into a lusty kiss. No one until His Royal Highness, Prince Stephan of Montgermane. Looking around, Sophie realized she was still standing in the corridor, outside the door to her suite. She had been on her way to breakfast when that ... that ... kiss thief had swooped down on her. She turned and directed her steps toward the central staircase, determined to continue on with her morning routine despite the strange interlude that had shaken her to her toes. **** "I hope I am not disturbing you, Madame Jones." Stephan felt compelled to announce his presence. The lady sitting alone in the breakfast room seemed lost in thought. He prized his own moments of solitude too highly to knowingly intrude upon another's. He would have preferred a few more moments alone to fully assess that kiss. He'd moved on Sophie to ruffle her feathers, and instead his entire world had been turned upside down. 32


He'd spoken only the truth when he told her he liked the flavor of her. What he didn't tell her was that he now fully intended to do a whole hell of a lot more than taste her. Hannah Jones blinked as if just waking up, then smiled warmly, if a bit distractedly. "Not at all, Your Highness. Please, join me." "Then I shall, for nothing can begin the day better than to share a meal with a beautiful woman. But please, you must call me Stephan." "And you must call me Hannah." Her smile was sincere, and he couldn't help but return it. He and Michael had spoken the evening before. The situation his friend had shared his concerns about only re-enforced what Stephan had already observed. He'd known there was some sort of tension between Hannah and the king. He was delighted for the man he'd always called Uncle Alex certainly deserved a woman who would warm his bed and lift his heart. In the short time he'd known her it was clear to him that Hannah Jones was such a woman. However, he didn't share Michael's concern that they would fail to mend their relationship. Uncle Alex was far too wise a man to let such a treasure get away. In the meantime, Michael had shared one tidbit with him, and the imp within him needed no urging to tease—his second favorite pastime. "I understand there may be some question with regard to your freedom to leave Boisdemer."

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From the round-eyed look of shock on Hannah's face, he'd just surprised her with his cavalier bluntness. She blinked once. Then her eyes filled with humor. "There may, indeed. We shall have to see." "There exists an interesting history between our two countries for as long as anyone can remember. Should the need arise, I can offer you sanctuary and spirit you out of Cardinia." "Now why does that have all the feeling of that old cliché, 'out of the frying pan and into the fire'?" "Because the history of which my friend speaks is that the kings and princes of Montgermane—who are, mind you, descended from gypsies—would offer sanctuary to noble travelers, only to then hold them for ransom." Stephan turned at the sound of Michael's sardonic statement, grinning at his friend's verbal sally. "Really, mon ami, we hardly ever do that anymore. Please, you will frighten this beautiful lady." "The lady is not easily frightened or intimidated," Michael returned. Then he came into the room, kissed Hannah on the cheek—a gesture Stephan noted made her beam in pleasure—and took a seat at the table. One of the maids arrived with Hannah's breakfast. She quickly solicited Stephan's order and then Michael's. Then Sophie entered the room and Stephan's attention was riveted. He caught the way she seemed to brace herself before coming in and taking a seat beside Hannah. Saying a simple 'good morning' to the room at large, she kept her eyes everywhere except on him. 34


After Michael and Hannah returned her greeting, he said, silkily, "Sophie and I already exchanged our morning greetings—just outside her bedroom." "Oh. So we did. I'd almost forgotten." Liar. Her blasé response challenged him even as he admired her aplomb. "Then tomorrow I shall endeavor to be more memorable." Aware of Hannah's sudden intense scrutiny, he gave her a bright smile only to find himself the recipient of what he could only call a mother's look. It was the same expression his own mother wore when she knew he'd stepped over the line. And just like when his mother looked at him like that, Hannah's look made him want to squirm in his chair, though he struggled manfully not to do so. "Your parents are arriving today, I understand?" Hannah's question, backed by the sparkle in her eyes, confirmed that she did indeed possess that same mother's sense. "They are. I have a feeling you and my mother will get along very well," he added ruefully. Hannah dabbed her mouth on her napkin and set it aside. When she got to her feet, he automatically did the same. "We probably will. We have impetuous sons in common." **** Sophie hadn't wanted to take any chances. Shortly after Hannah excused herself from the table, she feigned having forgotten something important and left the room. She was hungry, but there was no way in hell she would take the 35


chance of being left alone with Stephan so soon after that kiss. She was certain once she'd walked down the stairs, down the corridor with all the portraits of her ancestors looking on, she would be able to settle her nerves, and restore her cool façade. It hadn't happened, and she didn't know how to make it so. Since her brother was getting married tomorrow morning, Sophie had booked this day off work in order to be on hand for Catharine should she be needed, and, of course, to help her father welcome the handful of special guests who had been invited to stay at the palace for the nuptials. Directing her steps to the kitchen, she stood just outside the busy room and observed. Everyone knew exactly what they were doing, and they all seemed to work together so well. She'd heard that Hannah and Catharine were both regular visitors to this domain. She liked the atmosphere here, the busyness and the scent of food, the light and the laughter. Once, when she'd been small, she'd snuck down in the middle of the night. That was when her mother had been alive, and long before Robert Longet had been lured away from ruling the kitchen in a five star restaurant in Paris. The palace's former chef, Monsieur Pérot, had been awake and alone in the cavernous room. He had spotted Sophie and made a huge production of welcoming her to his realm. They'd had a tea party, and it had been one of the happiest moments of her life until her nanny had found her and carted her up to bed. The kitchen 36


was no place for a princess, Nanny Celeste had said. Of course her mother had been told, and she'd been scolded the next day. A princess certainly did not belong in the kitchen. My goodness, where had that memory been hiding? "Your Highness?" Robert's question brought her back to the present. Silence had descended on the kitchen, and every member of the staff was standing still, watching her. Most of these people had been a part of the staff, living under the same roof as she for years. Looking at their faces now she realized that she knew everyone's name. Good Lord, they were looking at her almost the same way she remembered members of the staff used to look at her mother, with trepidation! Sophie held on to her poise and offered a small smile, trying to put the kitchen staff at ease despite her own nervousness. "I wanted a cheerier atmosphere in which to eat my breakfast this morning. Could I please impose on your hospitality?" She took in the look of shock on several faces. She nearly turned and left. Then Robert smiled, and in a sweeping arm gesture indicated the table that was placed near the windows, just out of the busy traffic area of the room. "We would be delighted, Your Highness. What can we prepare for you?" Her usual breakfast was a healthy bran muffin, juice, and tea. But she didn't feel like being healthy this morning. If ever there was a day designed to break from the usual, then surely this was it. "Do we have peaches? And Crepes?" 37


"We do." "And ... whipped cream?" She knew she looked hopeful, because that's how she felt. Robert smiled conspiratorially. "What would peaches and crepes be without whipped cream?" As she was served tea and the staff got back to work, she wondered at the strange mood that had stolen over her. She didn't want to put the blame—or the credit for that matter— on Stephan's brash behavior. But she had the feeling his kiss had affected her far more than she wanted to admit. And she couldn't help but wonder if he kissed her again, what would happen next. [Back to Table of Contents]

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Chapter 4 He'd awakened alone. As Alex entered his suite, that fact stayed on his mind, and in his heart. It hadn't surprised him when he'd opened his eyes in that chaise on the beach to find Hannah gone. He might have believed the entire night had been nothing more than a pleasant dream if her scent didn't still cling to him. He'd awakened alone, and now as he prepared to shower, he understood that if he didn't do something soon, awakening alone was likely to be his fate for the rest of his life. The hot water beat down upon him, and his thoughts traveled back over the course of his life. He could truthfully say that he'd never tasted personal happiness or completion as a man until he met Hannah. Yes, his children had always been a joy to him. He'd always lavished the enormous amount of love in his heart on them. He'd proudly been the first person to hold each of his children when they'd been born. True, while his wife was alive, he'd not made them a priority until after her death. But his love for them had never been in doubt. He loved his country, and had cared for her as a devoted servant would care for a revered mistress. When he'd ascended to the throne at the tender age of twenty-one, his country had been in tatters, on the verge of bankruptcy. He'd labored, night and day, to right the wrongs several generations of careless de la Croix kings had inflicted upon 39


her. Right them he had, and considered himself privileged to do so. But his love for Hannah Jones was different, far more personal, and in a way bigger than his love for either his children or his country. He quite simply couldn't do without her. That sounded like a burden, but in truth this love for and with Hannah was the greatest and most unexpected gift he'd ever received. He'd understood the nature of his marriage practically as the vows were being said. He'd been under no illusions when it came to his bride and future queen. He'd hoped they would at least reach a place of comfort, of friendship. That had never happened, and he'd resigned himself to his life as it was. When Liana had died, he'd felt more relief than grief, and so had focused on his children and their loss. As the years had passed, it had never even occurred to him that he would meet someone, fall in love. He never once considered the possibility that his personal life could be any different, any better, than it had ever been. Now he knew. As he dried himself, tossed on a robe, and entered his bedroom, he knew the time had come to make a decision. He called down to the kitchen, asked to have coffee brought to him. He didn't want to see anyone, be sociable, for a bit longer. He needed this time of solitude to think. The coffee came on a tray accompanied by a number of small delectable pastries and a selection of fresh fruit. He walked through his suite to the sitting room. Here, the wide patio doors led to a balcony, one that overlooked the 40


city of Cardinia, and in the distance the resort where he'd so recently met the only woman he would ever love. He'd courted Hannah under false pretences. He'd presented himself as an ordinary man. One who lived a worka-day life, and was approaching his September years. They'd fallen in love in that fool's paradise he'd created. Wanting to look at the situation from what he believed was Hannah's point of view, perhaps how he'd presented himself had influenced her heart. She was a widow, one whose children were fully grown, and one who, in all reality, could therefore expect a future where life would slow down and change. Her busy years were behind her, years when she'd had to work so hard, raise her children—for the most part on her own. Though not yet fifty, surely she'd been looking forward to retirement, and doing less for others. Wasn't that essentially the argument she'd given him in turning down his proposal of marriage? It wasn't being his wife that she objected to. It was being his queen. He loved his country, faithfully. He'd put his role as king first in his life, always. But if being king meant a life without Hannah, a choice would have to be made. And haven't I already made that choice, in my heart? Michael was older, and far more prepared than Alex had been upon ascension. He knew him to be as devoted to Boisdemer as he had been. His eldest son was extraordinarily bright, gifted in diplomacy, and very well suited to guide their tiny nation on into the future. And Alex would be handing him a nation that was not only healthy, but thriving. 41


He would wait until after the wedding to make his announcement to his nation and his family. But he could wait no longer to find Hannah and let her know that saying yes to his proposal no longer meant saying yes to anything but a lifetime of the two of them, together. She was worth any price, even his crown. **** Hannah walked the gardens, feeling emotionally uplifted as always to be surrounded by such tranquility and beauty. Here she could spend countless hours just thinking. It was here Alex had proposed to her. What better spot, then, for her to come to terms with all the roiling emotions that had consumed her since that fateful afternoon? "Lovely day, isn't it?" The cheery voice seemed to be coming from the rose bushes. As Hannah watched, a smiling face peeked through the stems. The woman stood, and Hannah realized the tiny gardener had been completely hidden from view as she worked. "Yes, it is a lovely day." "I can go and work elsewhere if you like, mum, though I'm nearly done here." She couldn't have been even five feet tall, and if Hannah had to peg her age she would have to say the lady was on the sunny side of seventy. But her blue eyes twinkled with such merriment, and her white hair seemed as if it wanted to explode from beneath the wide brimmed straw bonnet she wore. Her voice, melodious, carried a slight British accent. 42


"Oh no, please. I don't want to disturb your work." "You must be very excited, what with the wedding tomorrow. You are, after all, the mother of the bride." Hannah made herself comfortable on a near-by bench, and smiled at the earnest way the woman applied herself to snipping and trimming the greenery. There was something vaguely familiar about that smiling face, but Hannah couldn't quite put her finger on what. Likely, she'd just seen the woman around and about, though she did think her a bit old to be working in the gardens. "I'm very excited, yes. Mostly, of course, because Catharine is so happy. I never thought to see my baby this happy." "It shows, doesn't it, when you look at two people who were meant to be together? There's a glow that surrounds them, and you know when they look at each other they're in a world of their own." "You're exactly right," Hannah said. She sat back against the bench and relaxed, the image the gardener painted so vivid and clear in her mind. That was exactly the way Catharine and Philip seemed together. Peter and Rachel too, she mused. "Of course, we've seen that look a lot here about lately. I've seen it every time you and His Majesty stroll these gardens, hand in hand. How lovely it is that after years of being alone and without happiness, love can blossom so beautifully for you both."

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"It's not as simple, though, for us." Hannah didn't know why she was being so candid with this woman. It wasn't in her nature to confide in people she didn't know. "Well, it's not easy to keep the blooms returning, year after year, to some of these bushes, is it? Some of them are quite old and were planted by people who perhaps lacked vision, or didn't care what might become of them one year to the next. Left alone, they would wither and die with the weeds, given half a chance, choking the life out of them." The little woman's fingers were busy as she talked, judiciously plucking a fading bloom here, a wizened leaf there. She glanced up and met Hannah's gaze with a quick, understanding smile that was as bright as the sun above before she began to wield a tiny pair of garden shears, trimming the bush into shape with well-placed snips. "It's very much like that with people, don't you think? They need to be snipped here and there—old hurts cut away—so that what was can be replaced by what is. That's one comfort in being older. You come to know that the hard times didn't come to stay, they came to pass. And when we're older, we understand that circumstances may change, but that doesn't mean that we have to change who we are on the inside. Where a person is and what surrounds them isn't nearly as important as what's inside them, after all. Whether you're a woman in love sitting on a Louis Quatorze settee or on a park bench, you're still a woman in love." Hannah found herself unable to look away from the beguiling woman's gaze. Even as she stared, she was remembering parts of her life, times when during her 44


marriage everything seemed so difficult. It was true, Jordan hadn't lent much of a hand with anything. Narcissistic by nature, he simply had never seen that he should be any other way. He was content to do nothing, to laze away his days seeking only to please himself. Alex was as different from Jordan as night was from day. When Jordan had been alive and life a struggle, every penny had to be counted and rationed. Now, alone, responsible only for herself, she was in better straits financially than she'd ever been. Why, in the lean years she was never a person to go out to dinner or take an impulsive shopping trip to the mall. She would have sworn that lifestyle was not her. Her circumstances now far surpassed her circumstances then. And what did circumstances matter, really? She hadn't changed. The thought echoed in her mind as if announced by a trumpet fanfare. As the epiphany glimmered then grew within her, she felt her heart lighten. If she said yes to Alex, there would be responsibilities for her as his queen. But she wouldn't be doing anything all by herself. She'd be helping Alex, working with him. They'd be a team. Nothing really mattered, did it, as long as they were together? Alex had fallen in love with the woman she was, an ordinary woman. Not a princess or lady of pedigree and protocol. Oh, why hadn't she seen that before? He worked so hard and gave so much. In the short time she'd known him as king, she'd noticed how tirelessly he worked. She'd accompanied him a few times, and had 45


marveled at the way people simply glowed around him. How much he cared about everyone, and how much he cared about her! She'd done her part, too, she realized now on those few occasions. Would it be all that much different as his queen? When you came right down to it, it was all simply caring about people. And she certainly had a flair for that didn't she? On the way back to the palace, after those jaunts, she recalled the pleasure she'd gotten from simply being with Alex, just the two of them. Marriage to him would be work, and there would be no retirement. But the life Alex offered would be sweet and wonderful, full of a million rewards because they loved each other and would be sharing it together. She surged to her feet, eager to find Alex and tell him. She looked around to excuse herself, but the tiny woman was nowhere to be seen. She had no time to ponder the strangeness of that, for as she turned to go, she was surprised and pleased to see Alex striding toward her. **** How fitting, he thought, that he should find her here. He'd been rehearsing the words he would say to her, and knew just how he wanted to put it. In the next moment, he lost his train of thought completely as Hannah launched herself into his arms. "Oh, Alex, I love you so much!" "Hannah." 46


His heart overflowed with such joy, he could only manage her name. His arms enfolded her tightly, and he held on. He would never let her go. "I'm so sorry. I've been such a fool." "No, my love. Never. Come, sit. I have something I need to tell you." He led her to the bench and pulled her down onto his lap. It felt so good to hold her, to have her wrapping herself around him, that he stole just a few moments to cherish the feeling. But he had words to say to her, and he needed to get them said. "Sweetheart, I've spent a lot of time thinking over the last few days. I couldn't see how we could fix this rift between us, as much as I wanted to. And then, last night—" he paused, for the beauty of what had passed in the night between them staggered him, even now. When she blushed, he was delighted. He kissed her lips lightly. "After last night, I realized that it was simple, really. My Hannah, I can live without my crown, but I cannot live without you." "Alex ... what are you saying?" "I'm saying that I love you, and if the prospect of becoming a queen is too much for you to manage, then I'll abdicate. Michael is ready to be king. He'll be a good king, I think." When she cupped his face and kissed him, his heart caught. "Yes, my love, Michael will make a very good king. Someday. If you don't mind, I don't want to think about that day right now. It floors me that you would give up so much 47


just so we can be together. But it's not necessary. I ... I let what was get in the way of my seeing what is. I'm so sorry for that. Sorry to have put us both through this turmoil." "Now it's my turn to ask. What are you saying?" "I love you, Alex. Who you are. What you are. I love what we are together, and that's the most important thing of all. You're not Jordan. You're not looking for a workhorse to marry. Whatever there is to be done in the weeks and years to come, we'll do it together. I won't ever feel alone with you." He thought it would be impossible to love her any more than he already did. He'd been wrong. "Sweetheart, of course you'll never feel alone. Because you'll never be alone." He couldn't wait another moment. His arms around her, he kissed her, his tongue slow and thorough in his tasting of her. As always, she responded to him so sweetly, so completely. He felt his penis harden, and knew if he were to touch her between her gorgeous thighs, she'd be wet. They were destined, he was certain, to share many years of laughter and love and passion. And oh, how he was ready for their life together to begin! He weaned his lips from hers, then cupped her face with his hands. "Hannah, I love you. Will you marry me?" "Yes. Oh yes, please, Alex. I want more than anything to be your wife." Nothing would do but that he taste her again. The kiss went from sweet to carnal in a heartbeat. He might actually 48


have acted on the desire that was streaming through him, but something caught his attention. He broke the kiss and looked around. "Do you hear music?" he asked, bringing his attention back to Hannah. She frowned, and cocked her head to one side. Then she smiled. "I do. It sounds like the Halleluiah Chorus." "It does indeed. I wonder what that means?" Hannah laughed, got to her feet, and reached out to him. "I have no idea, Your Majesty. I only know that right now, I want you. Shall we go to your bed?" "No, my darling. Let's go to ours." [Back to Table of Contents]

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Chapter 5 She was going to be a few minutes late, but that suited her fine. Sophie reasoned that if she entered the formal reception room after everyone else was inside, there would be no opportunity for Stephan to waylay her again, as he'd done twice already. She'd had an enjoyable breakfast in the kitchen that morning. To her absolute delight, the staff soon relaxed with her there, and they carried on as she imagined they did most mornings, bantering back and forth, happy, it seemed, in their work. It had been a slice of normal life, an occurrence extremely rare in Sophie's experience. Philip and Rachel seemed more at ease with that transition from royalty to normalcy. When Philip was at work, she was certain that 'the prince' was nowhere to be seen. Rachel had always appeared to be at ease in a crowd, too. Sophie really was very much her mother's daughter. She'd had that unhappy thought on her mind as she'd left the kitchen on her way back to her suite or she surely would have seen him. He'd been lounging in the foyer, just by the base of the stairs. However, she hadn't noticed him until she was almost beside him. "Ah, my favorite after-breakfast dessert. Perfect." She'd looked up, and he'd simply slid his arm around her and laid his lips on hers. This kiss had been both more and 50


less than the first one. Tender and questing, his tongue engaged her own in a silkily seductive dance. The kiss had been hot, fluid, liquefying her bones, shaking her to the core, tapping something within her she'd not known existed. And it was shorter, at least she thought so because it seemed to be over before she'd wanted it to be. Shaking her head, she determined that she would have to put that man and his lascivious lips out of her mind. She didn't know why Stephan was doing this. It certainly wasn't to garner attention or make another woman jealous, for both times there had been no witnesses but the two of them. Opening her door just a crack, she peered left and right, checking for that kiss thief. Telling herself it was relief and not disappointment she felt when no one was in sight, she opened the door fully, then closed it behind her. She was certain as she made her way down the central curved staircase that Stephan would already be in the reception room with his parents. It had been several hours since she'd seen him, and surely by now whatever mood had possessed him had likely burned off. The formal reception room was one that was used most often for official welcome parties. Elegantly decorated in white and gold, with turquoise and ruby accents, the room was her favorite of all the official rooms in the palace. There was a doorway that connected it to the ballroom, but otherwise the room was accessed by means of a door from the office corridor. Opening that door, she could hear the voices ahead in the room proper. Just a short hallway kept her from seeing 51


everyone. Three doors opened off the hallway. The two on the right were bathrooms, the one on the left a large cloakroom. As she drew even with the latter, the door opened suddenly. Yanked into the room, she found herself pressed up against the closed door before she could even blink. Stephan's smile was as playful as some she'd seen on the children's faces at the orphanage where she worked. His body didn't feel like a child's, though, as he pressed against her, bringing his face close so that only a bare inch separated them. From somewhere deep inside her, warmth began to spread. Her breathing hitched and she couldn't help the instinctive act of licking her lips. His eyes widened, his nostrils flared. He thrust his hips slightly, and the evidence of his arousal nestled against her. "Kiss me, Sophie." She should have said no. She should have pushed him away, demanded he leave her alone, and insisted he keep his distance. She did none of those things. Instead, she wrapped her arms around his neck, lifted up, and placed her mouth on his. And went wild. Frenzied, her lips and tongue assaulted his, driven by some demon craving she didn't understand. Desperation to taste all of him, to taste all that she'd never known her entire life filled her. As his flavor drenched her, as the scent of him seeped into her, as his hands blazed a trail of heat and longing across her back and down to her bottom, she thought she'd die if she didn't get what she needed—even as she admitted to herself that she had no idea what she needed. 52


"Easy, little one, I have you." His words came to her through the haze of heat and shivering tension that filled her. She whimpered and he responded. And then her eyes widened as she felt his hand cup her left breast. Her nipple tightened almost painfully. He pinched it, and she had no choice but to roll her hips forward. He gasped and his own hips pressed back against her as if he couldn't help himself. "Let me taste you here." His lips left hers, traveling down her chin to her neck. The sensation of his tongue lapping her throat nearly took the strength right out of her knees. She felt the tugging and understood he was opening the buttons of her blouse. Then he moved her bra out of the way and took her turgid nipple into his mouth. Fire sparked, traveled her veins and arteries, and emerged as a ragged plea from her throat. Spellbound, she grabbed the back of his head hard, fingers tangling in his hair and pushed her breast more fully into his mouth. Beyond desperate, she couldn't control the sounds that tore from her throat or the spasms that clenched her belly and seemed to come from deep in her womb. His voice a growl, he paused in his ministrations long enough to say, "Here, now. Take it, little one. Take what you need." She didn't know what she needed and nearly told him so. His hand, under her skirt, his fingers stroking across her silk-covered mound robbed her of speech. When those clever fingers breached the silk and slid just slightly into her, she lost all vestiges of propriety. 53


Her orgasm was sharp, hard, and left her reeling. Wave after rippling, shivering wave washed over her, drowning her in sensation. She was vaguely aware that Stephan held her close, crooned soothing sounds into her ear. She knew his hand cupped her and that she had moved against that hand and those clever fingers and felt a tiny twinge of pain as she did so. She knew her moisture was his, now. She could only hang on, her head falling to his shoulder, as it tapered off. "I never believed in them." She regretted the words immediately. Despite what had just happened, that had been too intimate a thought to share with anyone. "So that was your first, then. As I will be your first." "No." "Darling, yes." He smoothed down her skirt, and stepped back. He shocked her to her core when lifted that wonderful, magical hand to his lips and sucked the fingers that had been inside her. She felt her face flame. Looking down, she saw her blouse was still open, that her breast with its swollen and wet nipple was exposed above her bra. Fingers trembling in mortification, she covered herself and buttoned her blouse. "You confuse me. I don't understand any of this." Refusing to look at him, she didn't even give him a moment to respond. Opening the door, she fled across the hall to the lavishly appointed bathroom. She needed time to calm down, to rebuild her defenses. Though she thought that second task was likely not going to happen. 54


**** "It's a sad state of affairs when a son isn't on hand to greet his mother." Stephan smiled, and immediately corrected the unintentional slight, approaching his mother and kissing her on the cheek. "Forgive me, Your Majesty. That was thoughtless of me." He was aware of the maternal scrutiny he received, and merely smiled through it. Fortunately, Hannah came over and, as he suspected might happen, the two women began to talk as if they were old friends. Easing back, he accepted a glass of wine from a waiter, then moved toward the wide open door that led to a stone balcony with steps to the gardens below. He didn't know what had possessed him to play the roué with Sophie. Despite his reputation, this behavior was not his usual way of establishing a relationship with a woman. Oh, he'd fully intended to kiss her. And he'd planned to woo her into his bed. Slowly, with thoughtfulness and sensitivity and gentle courtship. Instead he'd launched an all-out sensual assault. First thing this morning he'd awakened with a hard cock and thoughts of the ice princess. If she hadn't stepped out in front of him just as he was walking down the hallway, he might never have grabbed her up as he had. Then, later, he'd been at the foot of the stairs when he'd looked up and seen her approaching. The look on her face had been so utterly sad he couldn't help himself. The problem, of course, with stealing 55


tastes of the delectable treat named Sophie was that now he felt desperate to have her completely. He hadn't understood, though, until just moments ago, how truly innocent she was. I never believed in them. That she still had her virginity didn't surprise him nearly as much as that statement had. Whatever could have happened, or not happened, in her life to cause her to doubt the existence of pleasure between a man and a woman? The lady in question entered the room, looking every inch a princess. He smiled when he realized she was again looking at everyone but him. She made her way over to his mother and Hannah. He decided to bide his time, but fully intended to speak to her. Maybe he could persuade her to accompany him someplace away from the palace. He knew her family kept a fine string of horses at a farm just outside the city. Perhaps he could persuade her to go take him there. Watching her closely, he could see by her body language she was getting ready to take her leave of his mother. Which meant, being a good little princess, she would make her way over to his father, who appeared to be deep in conversation with Alex. Naturally, since Stephan had yet to greet his father himself, he walked over to the men. "Ah, there you are. Your mother was concerned." He shot his father the same kind of grin he had his mother. His father and Alex were of an age. His father was showing silver wings at his temples, but he was a fit man, had been physically active all his life, and was now a hale and hearty fifty-one. 56


His family had always been a close, loving one. When he'd been a child, his mother had organized picnics and excursions where it would just be the family, no attendants or servants in sight. The bond he shared with his parents and his younger brother Jonathan was a strong, happy one. "Maman is always concerned. I believe that is what keeps her so young and beautiful." His father laughed, as did Alex. "Do not let your mother hear that opinion," his father advised quietly. "Women do not have the same sense of humor as do we men." "On this, I would have to agree," Alex added. Stephan noted that his gaze wandered over to Hannah. The look he saw in the man's eyes was very similar to the one he often witnessed when his father looked at his mother. "I shall be the soul of discretion," Stephan promised. "Speaking of beautiful women," his father said. Stephan smiled as Sophie joined them. She took his father's hands and kissed both his cheeks. "Your Majesty," she greeted. "None of that. It's Uncle Eduard, child. Let me look at you. Ah, Sophie, what a beauty you are! Is she not beautiful, Stephan?" "She is indeed, father." He nearly laughed aloud because Sophie was blushing, even as pleasure sparkled in her eyes. "You are the very image of your mother, my dear. Liana was the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. Next to my own Margaret, of course." 57


If he hadn't been looking at her so intently, he would have missed it. The change in her eyes was subtle. The warmth and joy spilled away, leaving unhappiness in its wake. It was starkly obvious, to him at least, that the comparison to her mother wasn't one that Princess Sophie enjoyed. Pondering this, he took a sip of his warming drink and resolved to find out why. "Thank you, Uncle Eduard. To be compared to my mother, who was a truly beautiful woman, is always a great honor." Before she could bolt, which he saw she wanted to do, Stephan turned his attention to his host. "Uncle Alex, I was wondering if you could spare Sophie for a couple of hours? I would so enjoy a visit to your farm to see your horses." "You're most welcome, Stephan, to visit the farm. Sophie's time is her own, however." This was exactly what he'd thought Alex would say. Since all three of them were looking at her with, he was certain, various degrees of expectation in their eyes, Sophie's training as a consummate hostess surged to the fore. He'd counted on just that. "I would, of course, be delighted to accompany you." "As long as you are both back for dinner. I'd like everyone, family and dear friends, there tonight." "Of course, Uncle Alex. Perhaps we should leave now, Sophie? Michael was kind enough to lend me one of his cars, and it's right out front."

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She mumbled her good-byes to his father and her own, and he gave her absolutely no time whatsoever to reconsider the matter, or change her mind. "Is there a reason you have your hand on my arm?" "Because I am a gentleman and am escorting you?" "Roué and railroading is more like it." Stephan roared with laughter. The butler opening the door smiled as they passed. Despite her comment, she wasn't pulling away, and Stephan took that as a good sign. Another servant opened the passenger door of the car for Sophie. Stephan hurried around the vehicle, got in, and turned the key. "Seatbelt," he said as he put his foot to the gas. The gates swung open just in time. "You'll have to tell me where to go." "That is what I have been thinking." Stephan laughed again, then said, "I meant, give me directions to the farm." When they had left the city behind, he slowed the car, opened his window, and turned to her. "I'm curious. You could have excused yourself from coming with me. Why didn't you?" "Because I think we need to talk. And I didn't want to do that where so many people could overhear or interfere." Stephan had it in mind that they were going to do a hell of a lot more than talk. But he shot her a grin and said, "I propose we engage in a nice vigorous ride first. Then we can talk." 59


The look she shot him was priceless, shock and affront and arousal all rolled into one. Likely, poor Sophie had never been so confused in all her life. "I meant on horseback." "I'm sure you did." He almost had the feeling that she not only understood him well, but that she agreed with him all the way. [Back to Table of Contents]

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Chapter 6 Aside from her home, there were two places Sophie felt most at ease. The first was among children, especially the children who were in her charge at the orphanage. The second place was on horseback. Why did she not make more time for this? Riding had been the first thing she'd loved of which her mother had approved. Since Nanny Celeste had never ridden, when she'd been brought here for her lessons, she'd felt free. Then later, as a teen, whenever she had needed to get away from the stifling atmosphere of the palace, she would come here to ride. Here she had always been able to relax and breathe. When Stephan stopped the car near the base of the stairs that led to the house, she opened the door and inhaled deeply. This is exactly where she needed to be, and she didn't know what to think about the fact that it had been this man, largely a stranger to her, who had suggested it. "The stables are down that path, not far. I wouldn't be surprised if Andre, our stable master, already has a couple of horses saddled for us." "That would be a bonus, then. We don't have a lot of time before I have to return you to the bosom of your family." Sophie looked at him and burst out laughing. "Despite the fact that I still live in my father's house, I really do lead an independent life." "Did I say anything different?" "You implied it." 61


"See? You were thinking as we drove here that you didn't know me very well. And you've just proved yourself wrong." Sophie thought it would be wise if she said nothing in response to that preposterous claim. Instead, she led the way to the stables. As she neared the structure, a soft whinny greeted her. "There's my beautiful girl." Her horse, a pretty chestnut mare, bobbed her head as if agreeing with her mistress' assessment. "I pictured you as owning a midnight black Arabian named Diablo, a bewitched stallion whose duty, all these years, has been to protect you from the ravishment of mere mortal men." "You have quite the whimsical streak, Your Highness. There are several Arabians in my father's stable, some of them black, but I prefer this lovely quarter horse whose name is Chocolat. She was born in the United States on a farm in Virginia. So she is quite the well bread southern lady." At just that moment, Andre led another horse out of the building. This one was Arabian, and pure black. She saw Stephan's eyes light with pleasure. "Sorry to disappoint you. His name is Splendor, and although he was quite frisky once, I'm afraid he'll never fall in love again." Stephan's laughter was a wonderful gift. She felt as if she had managed to do something quite extraordinary to spark it so many times in such a short period of time. It took little time for them to mount up and head off along one of the many trails that wound through the large estate. Sophie deliberately dismissed from her mind the thought that 62


Stephan was the first man she'd ever gone riding with. The scoundrel was raking up a rather large number of firsts where she was concerned. She didn't want to think about that either, or about the affect he had on her. She didn't want to think about anything at all. She wanted to ride, to feel the wind in her hair and pretend, if only for a little while, that she was as free and unfettered as a creature of the woods. **** Stephan was astonished when Sophie reached up and pulled the clip from her hair. Letting it drop to the ground behind her, she let go of the reins just long enough to comb her fingers through the long tresses. With her hair up and neatly styled, she'd been the epitome of the elegant and aloof ice princess. With it loosed and hanging down her back, she resembled a woodland sprite, happy and free. Then the trail they were on opened up and a vast meadow spread before them. "Race you!" The challenge caught him off guard. She'd managed to sprint her mare several lengths ahead of him before he kicked his heels lightly, sending his mount into a full gallop. The sound of her laughter came to him on the wind, and he understood in that moment that for her everything had disappeared but the animal under her and the wind streaming through her long hair. Seating himself deep into the saddle, he leaned forward, urging the animal beneath him to overtake her. He let the 63


beast have its head. If the meadow had been just a few meters longer, he believed they would have caught her. She was flushed and breathless when he pulled his horse up beside hers. He could no sooner stop himself from reaching for her than he could stop breathing. Vaulting from the back of his horse, he scooped her off hers and held her close. "What are you doing to me, Sophie de la Croix? Why can't I keep my hands off you?" He gave her no time to answer. His mouth descended on hers, hot and hard. Did she taste the anger in his kiss? He knew there was a trace of it there. He felt out of control when he was near her, and he didn't like the sensation one bit. She clung to him, her tongue tracing every corner of his mouth. When his hands began to stroke her back, when one swooped down to cover her bottom, pulling her against his erection, she broke free. "You touch me and I can't think. I can't reason. If anyone is doing anything it's you. You are a ... a rake. A roué. If the tabloids are even a tiny bit accurate, you do this sort of thing all the time. But I do not. I won't be another notch on your bedpost." Her confusion and anger settled his own. Oh, there was nothing of the ice princess in her now. "You should not believe everything you read, little one. Neither should you sell yourself so short. It is not my nature to try and seduce innocent little virgins. You appeal to me in ways I didn't anticipate." He could see by the look in her eyes she didn't believe him. 64


Just as well. Perhaps, despite the hunger that was burning in him for her, he would be better off leaving her alone. It went against everything he'd ever believed in to press his advantage if a woman was truly opposed to him. No meant no, always. "You are trying to tell me that I alone have inspired this passion in you? Please, you do not have to be kind to me." Kind to her? What a strange thing to say. He was reminded then of her comment after he'd pleasured her. And there, once more, was the same look in her eyes that had come over her when his father had complimented—no, Stephan realized, when his father had compared her to her mother. He didn't understand where her thoughts had taken her, but he couldn't let it be. Couldn't, he realized, allow her to think so little of herself. "Why would you think I am being kind? That would imply that I'm not being honest with you, and I am. You're not only a beautiful and desirable woman, Sophie. You're a very passionate one as well." "Beautiful? Yes, thank you, though I can take no credit for an accident of birth." She did not take a step back, but her hands had fallen to her sides and she held herself in a manner he could only call remote. "I have heard all my life how I am beautiful, the mirror image of my mother. And I am. I know that I am. I have many of her mannerisms, also. I am uncomfortable when faced with strangers, and in crowds. You think I do not know that I am called the ice princess? I've known about that name for years. It's because I'm truly like my mother, you see. Cold and unfeeling. There 65


is nothing I can do to change my nature. Genetics, in the end, will always tell." The utter devastation in her eyes simply undid him. Reaching out, he clamped his hands on her arms, drawing her close. "Cold? Unfeeling? This from the woman who had an orgasm in the cloakroom from so simple a touch? No, Sophie. You are many things, but not cold. Not unfeeling. Let me prove it to you." As he drew her closer, it occurred to him that perhaps he'd planned to take her here all along. In the next breath, he knew that wasn't quite the truth. When her passion had drenched his fingers earlier that afternoon, he'd known he had to have her. Sophie didn't have a clue just how she affected him. At this moment he couldn't recall another woman who had gotten under his skin quite so quickly, or so thoroughly. He'd like to think it was her passionate response, not an emotional need that compelled him now. But he had the feeling he was about to take an irrevocable step. "Stephan?" Ah yes, she could sense the change in him. No longer teasing, no longer simply flirting, he meant to have her. The deeply primitive, female part of her must have scented his intentions. He'd always believed himself to be a man of culture, of civilization. Something in Sophie stripped those two facades away from him. He answered by kissing her, using his lips and tongue to gently woo, to sweetly soften. She moved into his arms, 66


seduced, he knew, by the emotions coming to life within her. Her taste was addictive, and he wondered, fleetingly, if he would ever get enough of her. When her arms wrapped around him, he nuzzled her neck. He felt the melting in her. Sweeping her up, he lowered her to the soft green grass in the shade of the large maple tree. But no matter how much he wanted to take her, to claim her, he needed to know that she wanted him just as much. "Will you let me have you?" **** Sophie never thought to hear such a question. No man had ever been this close to her, no man had ever indicated that he could want her. Until now. She'd resigned herself to living the single life, a life without a husband or children. That hadn't changed. The unusual chemistry between the two of them was potent, and sexual, but it couldn't change her basic nature, and she could see no reason to alter the plan she'd made for her life. Stephan wouldn't be looking for anything more than what they could have here, on this lazy summer afternoon under the shade of this tree. Here was a chance to taste what she thought she'd never even get to sample. "I liked how you made me feel earlier. I want to feel that way again." Something in his grin, so slow and sexy, made her belly quiver. He was laying on the grass half beside and half over her. He lowered his head, and her eyes drifted closed. His mouth on hers was gentle, as if tasting her in tiny 67


increments. Her lips widened in a smile and when she felt his tongue licking her, she opened to him. She became weightless and boneless, outside of reality, soaring in euphoria. The heat of him melted into her, and his scent, something fresh and manly seeped into her soul. His flavor, rich, exciting, heated her blood. Her heart pounded heavily in her chest, her nipples tightened, and she felt moisture dampen her panties. Excitement raced through her as his hands set off a firestorm of sensations. Everywhere he caressed—her breasts, her thighs, low on her belly—became thrillingly alive. Her fingers flexed in his hair, and she arched into him, seeking more. "Lift up, little one." Sophie hadn't realized he'd opened her blouse. When he helped her to raise up off the ground a little, he slipped both it and her bra off her body. "Oh, Sophie, you have such beautiful breasts." Embarrassment died before it could be born. The expression on his face as he looked at her was one of a man gazing at a truly captivating sight. His caress sent shivers through her body. He took one nipple into his mouth. Sophie closed her eyes as a wave of bliss washed through her. Not quite an orgasm, the sensation settled on her nerve endings and filled her belly with liquid heat. Bowing her back, she offered him more of the flesh he was laving and suckling.

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She felt his hand on the zipper of her slacks. In moments it was open, and she lifted her hips to help him rid her of it. He took her panties at the same time. His mouth recaptured hers at the same instant his hand stroked her sex. Her body knew what to expect this time, and seemed eager for it. She watched, fascinated, as he yanked his shirt over his head, then quickly shed the rest of his clothes. Her breath caught. "You're the beautiful one." He fumbled with his pants and met her gaze. His slight blush delighted her. She'd only spoken the truth. His chest and arms bore corded muscles with a smattering of hair and had nothing of the pampered prince in their appearance. His penis stole her focus. Sophie gulped, for although she'd seen pictures she'd no idea it could be that big. The sight should have put her off. But gazing at his shaft just curled the heat in her belly and made her mouth water. It only took him a moment to tear open a small packet he'd taken from his wallet and protect them both. She found the process ... interesting. Mistaking the reason for her rapt attention, he explained, "Since I was sixteen and was nearly brought to ruin by an older woman who ambushed me, I've always ensured I have protection on me, no matter where I am or who I'm with." It should have been a passion-cooling reminder that he'd done this sort of thing before. That didn't seem to matter at the moment. That his explanation sounded like an apology put a smile on her face. "I'm glad you had one. I didn't think." 69


Gathering her back into his arms, he dropped a quick, endearingly sweet kiss on the end of her nose. "I'll always protect you, little one. You don't have to think. Just feel." She wanted to respond to that arrogant command, but his mouth on hers and the sensation of his chest rubbing against her bare breasts short-circuited her brain. She had no choice. Her body shut down her mind and focused all its attention on the tactile thrills coming one after the other. The heat of him caressing and kissing, stroking and soothing pulled a sob from deep within her. He nudged her legs apart, and then urged her to spread them wider as his hand did unbelievable things to her. He slid a finger inside her, then another. The excitement ebbed slightly as she felt once more a twinge of discomfort. "You're small, sweetheart. So incredibly small and tight. But so wet for me." The discomfort eased and her arousal spiked. Moving her hips in concert with the thrust of his fingers, she knew this time where the sensations were leading her. That moment when all her nerve endings had exploded in tingles and spasms had been the most thrilling moment of her life. She wondered if she would feel it again even as her body strove toward it. Stephan kissed her, his tongue wild in its assault, and she opened to him, sensing that this was more than a kiss, that it was nearly a command to surrender. Opening herself completely to him, above and below, she gave him what he sought. His weight, pressing her into the soft grass became an anchor, and she rejoiced in it. The probing of his penis at 70


the opening within her folds felt hot and hard and sent even more concentrated shivers throughout her body. Then he stroked his cock over her clit and she erupted in orgasm. She curled herself around him and cried out as he thrust into her. The tearing of her hymen, a sharp stab of pain that was soon over, only added to her rapture. She could do nothing but wrap her legs around him as he pumped into her, the power of her climax far greater than the blip she'd experienced earlier that day. Sophie cried out, uncertain if she could contain all the sensations and emotions that were rushing through her. The thought flashed through her mind that she understood why this act was called consummation. The fire of passion consumed her completely. [Back to Table of Contents]

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Chapter 7 She'd expected to see a sign of it in the mirror. Sophie studied her reflection, turning her head first one way and then the other. Today her entire world had changed, yet no sign of that change showed. Virginity had never been a prized possession in her mind. It had simply been her state of being. She hadn't, as she imagined some women did, guarded it diligently. She'd not, in fact, given much thought to the matter one way or another. Men had never seemed attracted to her. The point had seemed moot. But now she had given her virginity to Stephan. And she didn't know how she really felt about that. The sex had been amazing. Orgasms felt even more liberating than riding a horse fast across an open meadow. A silly grin took over her face. There, that's a change. Shaking her head, Sophie pulled on her bathing suit and then donned her robe. She'd just had a hot shower, but what she really wanted was a good, long swim in the pool. She tried not to feel disappointed when no kiss thieves appeared as she made her way to the fitness center. Upon their return to the palace, Justin informed Stephan his mother was waiting for him. With only two hours until dinner Sophie needed to do something routine to try and bring herself back to normal. Even if normal would be a façade. The last thing Stephan had 72


said when they'd parted company was that he'd be knocking on her door later tonight. As she felt her body begin to respond to the thought of that rascal and more sex, she quickened her pace. Hopefully the refreshing coolness of the indoor pool would restore her equilibrium and turn off her juices. **** The splash took Hannah unawares. Floating on her back, her goal a bit of relaxation before dinner, she hadn't heard anyone enter the poolroom. Pulling her feet down, she stood up and scanned the water's surface. Sleek, wet black hair and a determined, driven breaststroke identified the swimmer. Hannah made her way over to the edge of the pool and just watched as Sophie cut through the water, lap upon lap. The young woman always reminded Hannah of an electric current—crackling, full of energy, and driven. Today she appeared even more wired than usual. Finally that energy seemed to wind down. The princess threw herself onto her back, floating effortlessly. The illusion of relaxation was marred by the harsh sound of her breathing, which echoed in the cavernous room. "Feel better?" Hannah was proud of the progress she'd made reaching out to Sophie. Alex's oldest daughter had struck her, on first meeting, as a reserved and regimented woman—cool, collected, and tightly wound. It was only as she began to get to know her that Hannah realized Sophie's manner covered a shy personality and, she believed, a love-starved nature. 73


Alex had been brutally frank in discussing his late wife's shortcomings as a parent. To give him credit, his purpose had been not to denigrate his children's mother, but rather to help Hannah in understanding his children and his relationships with them. The mother in Hannah longed to just gather Sophie into a fierce hug. The woman in her recognized the young princess wasn't ready for such a display of affection. "No, damn it." Hannah couldn't help the laugh that erupted in response to Sophie's frustrated declaration. "Well if that kind of frenzied exercise didn't help whatever is bothering you, there is only one thing left known to womankind that will. Chocolate." "I had sex today for the first time in my life." Hannah could see by the shocked look on Sophie's face that she hadn't planned to say that. Mothering, Hannah mused, could come at the strangest times and in the most unexpected ways. Leaving her perch at the edge of the pool, she made her way closer to Sophie, then mimicked the young princess, floating on her back. "Are you all right?" "I think so. It was—" Hannah looked over and could see her face had colored. "You don't have to say anything more if you don't want to." "No, I ... I want to." "Then go for it. Oh, sorry, guess you already did." 74


Sophie laughed and sank. Quickly breaking the surface, she spit water as she continued to chuckle. Hannah had to fight to keep a straight face. Tentatively reaching out to touch the younger woman's shoulder, she said, "The first time for a woman can be scary—painful, a little messy. Unless the man is a considerate lover, and knows it's your first time, there may not be much pleasure, either." "No. I mean yes, he was considerate. The experience was wonderful. More than I thought it would be. I had always believed that the rapture written about in books did not exist. I don't know why I always assumed that sex would be a distasteful or unpleasant experience." Hannah had her suspicions on that score, but kept them to herself and let Sophie talk. "I don't even know why I wanted you to know. But I realize now that when I decided I wanted a swim, it was because I hoped you might be here." "I needed to relax before dinner this evening." "Not to pry, Hannah, but this afternoon it seemed as if you and papa were ... friends again." Hannah couldn't contain her smile. She'd told no one of her news because Alex wanted to announce it at dinner tonight. Under the circumstances, telling Alex's oldest daughter felt like the right thing to do. Trading such personal confidences was a bridge built. "You could say that. Your father wants to make the announcement at dinner, so look surprised. We're going to be married." 75


"Oh, Hannah, that's fabulous! I am so happy—for both of you." "And if your interlude with Stephan was a good one, then I'm happy for you, too." "Interlude. That is a very good word for what we shared." "You never know. It doesn't have to be just an interlude. It could turn out to be something much more." "Oh, it won't. I won't let it. No, I decided long ago that I was never going to marry." Hannah recalled that Sophie had said that once, when they were getting ready for a formal event. She'd assumed that the princess' reticence was connected to ordinary virginal apprehension. Some women did suffer from that. Now, she dared to pry, just a little. "You don't want children someday? A family?" "No." There was a wistful tone to her response. Hannah was on the verge of probing further when Sophie's look became distant. "I'm too much my mother's daughter. Women like us just aren't meant to be wives. Or mothers. I won't make the same mistake she did." **** "My God, Hannah. What did we do to that precious child, Liana and I?" Alex had wondered, often, why Sophie had never seemed interested in dating. Like many, he'd presumed her formal bearing, her strict observance of protocol were indications that she resembled her mother in temperament, as well as looks. Though he had also always known that, unlike her 76


mother, Sophie was capable of warmth, love, and compassion. She didn't let those qualities show often. They were most evident when she was with family or the young orphans in her charge. He felt Hannah's arms come around him from behind and thanked God for her. Within her embrace, he felt stronger than he ever had. For the first time in more than a decade— no, he amended, for the first time ever he was not alone as a parent facing a crisis with a child. "Don't blame yourself, darling." "I notice you didn't admonish me not to blame Liana, too." "I'm biting my tongue, here." Alex chuckled, then folded his arms over hers. "That was an unfair thing for me to say to you, love. Forgive me." "Someday, when you're holding Sophie's firstborn in your arms, I'll tell you what I thought this afternoon as she was telling me her feelings on the subject of marriage." "That is a deal. So, how are we going to help our eldest daughter, my love?" He turned then, and caught the look in her eyes. He'd only expressed what was in his heart, but her expression said he'd given her a precious gift. The flavor of her, when she stretched up and laid her mouth on his, went straight to his head and other places. He smiled because that had been such a silly and happy thought. "Well, Your Majesty, if this were a couple hundred years ago, you could put out a call throughout your kingdom for brave knights in shining armor on dashing steeds to come and save the day." 77


"And announce a tournament, the winner of which would be given my daughter's hand in marriage?" How much easier this was with Hannah there to share the burden! He knew he could laugh at her suggestion, and the laughter made everything lighter. "You know, that's not a bad idea." "Hannah. As my youngest is fond of saying, it is no longer the dark ages. I cannot simply command my daughter to wed." "No, no, of course not. But what if..." When she was silent for a few moments, he tilted her chin up with a finger and as her eyes met his asked, "My darling, are you planning to play matchmaker?" "Well, someone has to. Where's a Fairy Godmother when you need one?" "Perhaps," he whispered as he bent forward to kiss her lips lightly, "you and I wore the poor dear out." Her amusement, so easy and relaxed, soothed his soul and eased his aches. "Maybe we did. I have a bit of an idea. How about if I share it with you at the same time we share a shower?" "Is it only a shower you wish to share?" She smiled when he played his hands across her bottom, when he pulled her into his erection. "Of course not. But dinner is only an hour from now." "One of the good things about being the king is I can put dinner off an hour or so if I choose to." **** 78


There was nothing Hannah liked more than to have her entire family gathered around her for a good meal. Craig and Pam had only been in Boisdemer for a week, and the novelty of looking around a table and seeing all her children and grandchildren seated together was still fresh. Tonight, for once, the dining table in the formal dining room didn't look too big. Eighteen place settings gleamed white and gold under the crystal chandeliers. The Waterford sparkled and the silverware—pure silver—shone with a deep, rich hue. She felt her face color when, en masse, the family, including the visiting royals, rose to their feet as Alex escorted her into the room. He shot her a rueful grin that told her he understood her discomfort and she squeezed his hand to let him know it was all right. "Please, everyone, sit," he said as they made their way to the other end of the table. Alex stood with her, beside her chair, and together they faced the others. "Catharine and Philip, tomorrow you will become husband and wife, and with Jamie begin a new life together. I don't have words adequate enough, Catharine, to tell you how very proud I am to welcome you and Jamie to our family. In the short time I've known you, you've already become a daughter to me, and Jamie, I already consider to be my first grandson. I love you both very, very much." Hannah saw the tears in Catharine's eyes, and felt her own mist when she got up from her place, came over to Alex, and hugged him tight. The words Alex had just lavished upon her, 79


though he'd claimed them to be insufficient, were, Hannah knew, more than her own father had ever given her. When her daughter had taken her seat, Alex resumed his speech. "Peter and Rachel, I'd about given up hope that you would open your eyes and see how perfect you are for each other. Your wedding, in three months time, will be a joyous occasion. A man can never have too many sons, and though I have considered you to be one since you came to us, Peter, it gives me enormous pride and satisfaction knowing that you will be a son in fact as well as in sentiment. "It is not that unusual, that a brother and a sister marry a brother and a sister. This is a double bond between the Jones and the de la Croix families. A bond that is about to become even stronger." Hannah saw the smiles begin to spread on the faces of their children. Alex must have seen it too, for he returned their smiles and nodded. "To my great happiness and eternal gratitude, Hannah has finally agreed to become my wife." **** Alex's heart filled with love as his children and Hannah's cheered and clapped. There was a flurry of activity as they were hugged and congratulated. His guests and good friends, the Benets, were smiling hugely. "We must have a toast!" Eduard declared.

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"Absolutely," he agreed. Once everyone was seated, he signaled the staff. Champagne corks popped, and sparkling vintage danced into glasses. Eduard proposed the first toast, to the happiness of the king and the future queen of Boisdemer. Then there came the tributes from their offspring. Alex knew he was grinning like an idiot, but he couldn't help it. He was the happiest, and luckiest, man in the world. "I think we need another one!" Alex turned his attention to his soon-to-be new granddaughter, Michelle. When her parents—not yet totally at ease with royalty, Alex knew—tried to shush her, he spoke up. "One more what, sweetheart?" "One more drink name." He smiled as everyone chuckled. "All right. What did you have in mind?" "I think we should thank Grandma's fairy godmother." "You do?" "Yes, because Grandma told me they were real, and so I asked God to get Grandma's fairy godmother to find her a handsome prince, and she did!" For a long moment, no one said anything. It was Craig, Hannah's oldest son, who got to his feet, raised his glass, and proposed the toast. When the glasses were set down, Alex went to Michelle. Taking her hand in his, he brought it to his lips and kissed it. "Thank you, sweetheart. I'm so very glad you did." **** 81


"Oh my," Eugenia was fanning herself as she hovered over the formal dining room. "Why, I feel as if I've just enjoyed an entire bottle of that yummy bubbly wine, myself." "I know exactly what you mean. Sister, did you ever imagine that so many people at one time would—" "No, I never did. Though you know, of course, it was that lovely little Michelle's daddy whose words held the most power." "I do indeed. There's nothing more powerful than a reformed cynic. Why Eugenia, whatever are we going to do with all this magic?" "Do? Do? Isn't it obvious? Now I feel I have a chance to make sure our Sophie can find a suitable match." "What do you have in mind?" "I have the perfect plan, thanks to Hannah. Come, we must get busy. There's no time to lose." "Oh, dear. I really do like Stephan, you know," Gwendolyn sighed. "You'll get over it," Eugenia said. [Back to Table of Contents]

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Chapter 8 Stephan had not had the honor of participating in very many wedding ceremonies. As a Crown Prince, few people felt confident inviting him to fulfill that role. Having grown up with the de la Croix kids, he considered them his closest friends. In the last few years, it had been Michael and Philip visiting him rather than the other way around, which had been the case most often in the years of their youth. But they had maintained their close ties from adolescence through adulthood. Stephan considered himself a confirmed bachelor, and although he always planned to someday marry and have a family, that plan belonged to the nebulous future. Now, looking on as vows were spoken and rings exchanged, he felt a stirring within him, a feeling that he thought could almost be envy. Normally, he'd have thought he'd be the last person to become emotional at such a time. His gaze wandered to Sophie. Her attention was on her brother and his bride, her features softened by the love he knew she held in her heart for them. And he felt his world shift, just a little. It seemed as if she stood in the soft light of a thousand candles, her skin suffused with a glow that shimmered. She was undeniably lovely, almost ethereal. He'd tasted her once, and it wasn't nearly enough. He'd planned to steal off to her suite in the middle of the night, but sleep had claimed him and held him with an 83


unusually firm grasp. He'd awakened just in time to prepare for this morning's ceremony. In moments, when the music soared, the wedding party would exit this old church and return to the palace. There'd be a luncheon and small reception. Afterward Stephan planned to find a way to have his own personal version of dessert. His thoughts tracked back to Alex's stunning announcement of the night before. He could honestly say that he'd never seen his honorary uncle as happy as he'd been then. Clearly, both families were thrilled with the news. Alex had urged him and his parents to extend their visit. He and Hannah, he'd said, were planning to exchange their vows in a private ceremony within a week. That suited Stephan perfectly. He was glad for the invitation personally, and because it gave him an excuse to remain in Boisdemer. He wasn't nearly done with Sophie yet. **** "I have to stay here while mom and dad get to go to the farm for a whole week!" Sophie smiled at her new nephew's disgruntled tone. "It is only for a week, Jamie. And then you can join them there." "At least Richard and John are staying for a while. And Michelle. She's all right, for a girl." Sophie chuckled, impulsively hugging him. He didn't squirm overly much, so she made the gesture a short one. Lunch had been served and eaten. Guests who had been invited back to the Palace to participate in the celebration 84


were mingling about in the reception hall. The newlyweds had already taken their leave, anxious, Sophie thought, to begin their honeymoon. She squashed immediately the unexpected spurt of envy that tried to take root within her. Envy was a useless emotion and likely, she instantly reasoned, nothing more than a temporary aberration, coming as a result of the beauty of the wedding ceremony just passed. She might resent that it was considered a 'typical female reaction', but she couldn't deny the reaction was real. "Friends, if I may have your attention, please." At the sound of his voice, Sophie turned to face her father. Jamie took the opportunity to run off and join his male cousins. "As you all undoubtedly know by now, Hannah and I are to be married next week. As this is a second marriage for us both, and as the spotlight rightfully belongs on the younger generation, we've chosen to have a private ceremony here, with the archbishop officiating. We've chosen next Thursday evening for this happy event, a twilight ceremony on the beach below the palace." How romantic! Sophie applauded with everyone else. She knew it had been on the beach at Marcus' Villa that their romance had begun. "To celebrate our marriage, rather than have the traditional ceremony and party, we've decided to hold a Grand Tournament next Saturday at the Fortress which is, as you know, the original seat of the throne of Boisdemer, and the current site of the Medieval Fair. There will be a formal ball Friday evening. These events will be open to all who wish 85


to purchase a ticket, and the proceeds will be donated to children's charities throughout the kingdom. For that reason, we will prevail upon our daughter, Sophie, the Princess Royal, well known for her devotion to the smallest of our subjects, to serve as official hostess for these events. Any knight who wishes to carry the princess' standard into competition may make application to do so at the ball. The champion of the tournament will win a prize of medieval proportions—and the Princess Royal's standard, of course, proclaiming him her champion. Because this is rather short notice, a proclamation has been issued and circulated to the major European news media." Sophie forced herself to smile graciously, tipping her head in serene acknowledgement as everyone applauded her, even as she wondered what on earth her father was doing. A shiver wracked her spine, and a feeling of foreboding flooded her. She looked around to see if anyone else had reacted strangely to her father's pronouncement. It had to be her imagination working overtime, swamping her mind with images of medieval princesses being auctioned off to cavalier black knights. Movement caught the corner of her eye and she turned her head to watch Stephan approach, a little half-smile on his face. He hadn't come to her last night. At least, she didn't think he had. She'd fallen asleep, even though she could have sworn she had been far from tired at the time. Then, this morning, she'd very nearly slept too late. She never slept late! 86


Now, as he stopped at her side, she caught his eye and felt warmth spread throughout her body in response to his nearness. "It sounds as if you're going to be busy in the next little while, fending off knights, officiating at a tournament." "This is the first I'm hearing of it. I'm sure father has everything arranged, and I'm just going to be on hand to receive the proceeds on behalf of the children. You didn't come to my room last night." She was pretty certain another woman, a more sophisticated woman, would never have said such a thing. His gentle brush of her arm eased her concerns. "My afternoon exhausted me more than I'd anticipated. I apologize. I'd like, very much, to make up for that lapse now." "Now?" "Well, as soon as possible." Nerves had Sophie looking toward her father. For the first time in her life, his enormous smile, meant just for her, wasn't reassuring. Turning back to Stephan she said, "I need to speak with my father. Then, I think I'll retire to my suite for a bit of a respite." Stephan's wink wasn't subtle at all, and Sophie hoped no one else had seen it. "Then I'll bid you good afternoon, Your Highness." "Thank you, Your Highness. I'm certain that it will be." ****

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"Are you very annoyed with us?" Hannah asked. "I wanted to talk to you about this first. But your father assured me that with Rachel planning her own wedding and Helene and Michael working on that International Healthcare Conference, that you'd be delighted to give us a hand." They were walking together toward the main staircase. The reception had ended just minutes before, and Hannah was quite proud that she'd been able to hold off this conversation with her soon-to-be-stepdaughter for this long. Alex had avoided his eldest daughter, as agreed. Sophie had worn a very determined expression when she finally sought her out, so Hannah had launched right into the meat of the matter, even if she was being just a little less than completely honest. She reminded herself that this very slight prevarication was for a good cause. When she understood, finally, the extent to which Sophie had held herself back since becoming an adult, the fears and misconceptions that had been haunting this beautiful young woman for years, Hannah knew that desperate measures were needed. It was all well and good that Sophie seemed to be developing a relationship of some sort with Stephan. But she had the uncanny feeling that the young princess considered that man's attentions to be temporary. After all, here she was, nearly thirty, and she'd never even dated. Nothing, Hannah was certain, would be more eye-opening for Sophie than to suddenly be surrounded by scads of eligible men, all vying for her attention. When she found herself sought after she would have no choice but to accept 88


that she was indeed a warm and loving and desirable human being. Hannah saw the degree to which Sophie reined in her annoyance in the face of her own apparent anxiety. A truly cold woman, Hannah could have told her, would not give a damn if she, Hannah, were anxious or not. Too bad Sophie wasn't ready to simply listen to reason. "Of course I'm pleased to do whatever I can to help." "Oh, thank you, sweetheart. The notices have been sent out. The orchestra has been contracted for the ball, and Robert has been given carte blanche to arrange tasty treats to serve Friday evening. Mostly what we need you to do, as the hostess, is simply collect the pledges from the participants, and preside at the tournament. The winner will be declared your champion, but all that prize awards the donor is the right to carry your flag in the parade." "Is that what Father meant?" Her question was wrapped in such a sigh of relief that Hannah chuckled. "You didn't think your father was going to auction you off to the highest bidder, did you?" "No! No," Sophie repeated, ruefully shaking her head. "I think I didn't get enough sleep last night. Of course Father would never even consider such a thing. This really is a unique and wonderful way to celebrate your marriage. And he was absolutely right. Everyone else does have a full plate. I'm the perfect one to lend a hand." "I'm so glad you feel that way, honey. There isn't a whole lot left for us to organize. I think this event was meant to be, because the details are all coming together as if aided by 89


magic. Even so, I feel so much better knowing that your experienced eye will catch anything I might miss. I don't want to start off as Queen on the wrong foot." Hannah impulsively hugged Sophie, then hurried off on her way before the young princess could ask any more questions. She just hoped Alex was ready to play his part. **** "I'm so pleased that you'll be helping Hannah," Alex said. "She wanted to do something to, I think she called it, 'jump in with both feet.' Knowing you'll be helping her relieves me greatly. I don't want her to feel overwhelmed by all that she's going to be taking on when she marries me." Sophie could have sworn she heard the sound of a cage snapping shut around her. It didn't seem to matter that logically she knew it wasn't so. It didn't even matter that she understood and agreed with her father's reasoning completely. She felt as if she'd just been neatly trapped, and that some ominous fate awaited her. It was time for her to acknowledge the awful truth. Her emotions, which had always been so calm and so bland, were now in turmoil. She wanted to blame the state on today's nuptials, but was very much afraid there was another source entirely responsible for her state. And that other source was likely waiting for her in her rooms right now. "Will you sit with me awhile? We can sit and talk and have tea brought in. It would be like old times, before Michael and Helene married." 90


Sophie wondered at the flicker of surprise that crossed her father's face. Almost, she thought, as if the invitation had been not what he meant to say. Acting on impulse herself, she hugged him, hard. "Thanks, but no. I want to return to my suite and change." She was nearly at the door when her father called her name. Turning, she tilted her head to one side. "Yes?" "Everything's all right with you, isn't it? With first your brother and then your sister deciding to settle down, and my marrying Hannah—" "Everything is fine, papa. I'm so very happy, for my brother and my sister, but especially for you. I like Hannah very much." She hoped she'd reassured him. She wondered what had prompted that sudden parental concern, even as she marveled that her usual shield of aloofness seemed to be slipping away from her. [Back to Table of Contents]

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Chapter 9 "I've been looking all over for you." Stephan closed his eyes at the sound of Michael's voice. Just ten seconds more, he mused, and he would have been inside Sophie's suite. Another few moments after that and he would have been inside her. Shaking his head at the uncharacteristically crude thought, he turned to face his friend with a carefree grin. "And you have found me. What can I do for you?" He thought the look that flashed across Michael's face was one of utter confusion. It was almost as if his friend had forgotten whatever had been on his mind. "I haven't been a very good host," he said at last. "I've left you to fend for yourself entirely too much this week." "I would not expect you to toss off your duties just to entertain me." "We've become depressingly responsible, have we not? There was a time when we would have done exactly that, the both of us. What the hell. My brother got married today. That deserves a reprieve from work, I think. Care for a game of billiards?" There was no way Stephan could refuse the invitation, as much as he wanted to. And there was no way in hell he could let on that he'd had something better planned. Allowing himself one quick, regretful look at Sophie's closed door, he accepted. 92


"I think we'll see if we can drag Peter away from my sister long enough to join us," Michael said as they descended the main staircase. "It doesn't bother you that your friend is going to marry your sister?" "No. Relieves me, in truth. Rachel is a tempestuous soul. I don't have to worry about her now that Peter has claimed her." Stephan laughed. "Better not let your sister hear that opinion." "No," Michael agreed immediately, "that wouldn't be wise." Despite that comment about pulling Peter away from Rachel, the man was, in fact, in his office. "I can't play hooky, not after that bombshell your father dropped on us this morning," he said with a sigh. "The palace is about to have its doors thrown open to admit anyone with the price of a ticket. I hate this kind of thing." "You take your job too seriously, mon ami," Michael clapped him companionably on the shoulder. "As I believe your future father-in-law said recently, you have a competent staff. Delegate to them for a couple of hours." Stephan enjoyed their banter. He didn't know Peter Jones that well, having only met the man a couple of times. But clearly, he'd been considered a member of the family even before his engagement to Rachel. "You can try to hold up against Michael, but by the time he gives in and goes away, likely those couple of hours will have passed, regardless," Stephan advised. "Might as well spend them doing something more pleasant than arguing." 93


Peter raised one eyebrow and seemed to consider first him and then Michael. "You're right, Your Highness. A couple of games of billiards does sound more enjoyable than playing tug of war with a bulldog." "Ah, but you cannot join us unless you call me Stephan." The balls had been racked and Stephan had just delivered the break shot when Michael said, "I imagine this is a poor substitute for what you had planned to occupy your time this afternoon." Still stretched out across the billiard table, Stephan turned his head and encountered two very serious male stares. "And that would be?" Peter turned to look at Michael. "How close was he to knocking on her door?" "It did not appear to me as if he was even going to bother to knock." Stephan straightened and leaned one hip against the table. The implacable expressions on their faces triggered a stiffening of his spine, and he felt his right eyebrow arch. He knew he looked imperious, but couldn't seem to do anything to relax his stance. Perhaps there was some truth in his mother's opinion that he did not handle being challenged well. **** She wanted to kick something, hard. Frowning with the unfamiliar impulse, Sophie folded her arms and paced the sitting room of her suite. 94


She supposed the only thing she could be thankful for right now was that neither Stephan nor Michael had seen her door open that little crack, so neither was aware that she'd witnessed that scene in the hallway. Looking all over for him indeed. Sophie was aware of the irony of the situation. Only a few short days ago she would have welcomed Michael's interference. And no mistake about it, he had interfered. She supposed she should be grateful to her older brother for his protective instincts. And she was—on an intellectual level, at least. Sophie wanted Stephan. She wanted to feel his weight pressing her down into her bed, wanted his hands on her flesh as he joined his body to hers. That first time had been more than she could express, and she wanted to taste it again. It seemed, however, as if fate and family were conspiring to prevent an encore performance. She was almost, almost beginning to feel desperate. How did one deal with this craving and not having? Sophie was not a woman used to being denied something she wanted. Not as a result of being spoiled, but because she had allowed herself to want so little in life. She'd learned at a very young age how to mask her emotions with an air of indifference. As she'd grown to adulthood, it was a habit well formed. Her days were filled with doing that which was required of her. She followed the rules, and almost automatically fulfilled the expectations that had been placed upon her throughout the various stages of her life. Her emotions had been as frozen within her as she knew her mother's had been. But lately, everything inside her was 95


in turmoil. She blamed this on the overabundance of romance in the air and on her own sexual initiation. Frustrated with her emotions, frustrated with her life, she needed to escape. Going to the farm was not an option, as it was serving as a honeymoon site. But there had to be some place she could go where she could get her mind off herself for a while. An image of the Medieval Fair sprang to mind, and she seized on the idea immediately. Awash with sights and sounds and scents, it was the perfect place to lose herself. **** "What do you expect me to do?" "Tread very carefully." Michael's answer wasn't exactly what Stephan had expected. He ran an impatient hand through his hair. "Do you imagine for one moment that I am not doing so? Do you think I don't realize how delicate this entire situation is? I didn't plan on this." "Lord, my friend, you look miserable as hell." Michael said, smiling. "And this is cause for you to grin like a hyena?" "Oh, most definitely. I was concerned that you were looking at my sister as yet another conquest. But now that I know you're in love with her, I feel much better." "I did not say anything about being in love." He scowled as both Michael and Peter laughed. "My shot," the latter said. Approaching the table he lined up behind the cue ball. "Two in the side pocket." 96


Stephan watched the two-ball sink. When Peter looked up he said, "Not only in love, but stupid in love. This is good. I find myself in the position of liking all three of my brothersin-law." Stephan suddenly felt short of breath. "Brother-in-law? I never said anything about being in love or getting married." "Denial," Michael said in an aside to Peter. Stephan didn't know what he resented more, this entire conversation or the look of pity both men gave him. "Definitely denial," Peter agreed. "Look," Stephan hesitated. He knew he had to choose his words wisely. Then he reminded himself that Michael, his best friend, was only trying to look out for his sister. "I don't know what's going on between us. But it is between us, so I would appreciate it very much if you could respect our privacy. I cannot promise what may come in the future. I can, however, offer you this promise. I won't be careless with her." Michael looked as if he would say something more, but then shook his head instead. "I know the label the press has given you isn't deserved. I don't know why I allowed myself to play the big brother so heavily today." "You are her big brother. Both of you are. I'm not offended. Truly." "Just a little frustrated with your change of plans for the afternoon." There was a definite snicker in Peter's voice. He couldn't let that go unpunished. "Which means only one thing," Stephan motioned for Michael to take his shot. 97


"And that would be?" Peter asked. "I'm going to have to humiliate the both of you by winning this game," Stephan announced, smiling. A part of him thought that this little heart-to-heart should have made him decide to leave Sophie de la Croix alone. Instead, getting his hands on her seemed more desirable, and imperative, than ever. **** The breeze carried hints of ocean and candy. The nostalgic music of flutes and guitars rode the gentle wind into every nook and cranny, every corner and under every tree. The Medieval Fair was an annual, summer long event and a popular destination for tourists. A few short weeks ago, Sophie had come here at the request of her father, and had watched as Philip had proposed to the woman he loved. And that, Sophie acknowledged, was the first time in years she'd set foot on the grounds, although she sat on the board that oversaw the attraction. Inhaling deeply, she wondered why she'd never done this before, why she'd never just strolled about on a hot summer day and enjoyed being here, and being alive. As she walked, and was recognized, there were some surprised expressions on the faces of visitors, and some bows and curtsies on the part of costumed staff. None of it made her feel awkward or ill at ease. In fact, she was filled with a carefree elation, and it was unlike anything she'd ever experienced in her life. Late afternoon sunshine sparkled on 98


glass and metal, but over by the knights training area, the light gleamed and glistened even more brightly. Men were in the lists, engaging in swordplay, practicing with javelins, and aiming arrows at straw targets. A few participating were clearly tourists, but here staff performed for spectators. Sophie knew most of the knights were off-duty soldiers, but a few were history buffs that flocked here each year to spend their vacation as members of the Knights of the Citadel. She could recite the history by rote. The first fortress was built by a Crusader, Etienne de la Croix, who made a fortification here overlooking the ocean, then fell in love with a local maiden and decided to make this land his home. In recognition of his service to the church, he was granted a large fiefdom. When the Templar knights were declared heretics on that first unlucky Friday the thirteenth, in October of thirteen hundred and seven, Etienne and his friends succeeded in maintaining not only their freedom, but also their land. It wasn't, however, until a century later, through canny maneuverings and outright trickery that his descendants managed to have their kingdom recognized. Sophie knew her nation's history by heart; but until this moment she'd never understood how much fun seeing it come alive could be. Captivated by the flashing blades and the clang of steel, she stepped up on the viewing platform to watch, marveling at the amount of strength the men and women needed to wield their weapons. Survival in those long ago days, she 99


mused, demanded not just strength of character, but strength of body. She recognized the knight in charge of the training, Robert Montrefort, a colonel in the Royal Boisdemerian Army. Aside from performing his regular duties, and stints served as a member of the Royal Honor Guard, he'd been Sophie's official escort on a number of occasions. As she watched, he called a halt to the training and turned to face her. Bowing deeply, he saluted her with his sword. "All salute the Princess Royal!" Those knights who were regular military copied Robert's moves, and for one moment, unease and nerves threatened to overtake her. But there was such merriment in Robert's eyes, she was able to easily defeat those two familiar sensations and respond with a graceful nod. "I thank you, noble knights, for your fealty and homage. Please, do not let my presence interrupt your training." "With your permission, Your Highness." Sophie didn't recognize the man. He'd left the ranks of those she knew to be hobbyists, and approached the viewing platform, stopping about ten feet away and bowing. "Yes, Sir Knight?" "Your Highness, I am Telford Gaynor. I traveled to your beautiful kingdom on a whim, for I'd heard that here, on this hallowed ground of a once-proud citadel, men of courage and heart could test their mettle and their strength. And I did not understand, until I arrived, the true reason for my pilgrimage from London Town. Now I must confess that guardian angels must have urged me to come, for I heard the words of the 100


king's proclamation and I knew in a heartbeat my true destiny. Your Highness, you are indeed a beauty to behold, as delicate and fine as any flower. It is my intention to not only join the competition, but to ultimately prevail, and win the grandest prize of all." It seemed to Sophie as if all other noise, all other activity had ceased. Telford Gaynor had the attention of the other knights, and the tourists around them. From his accent, and his formal way of speaking, she knew him to be British. Something about him struck a chord of familiarity. Yes, he was attractive—tall, broad shouldered, with hair the color of the purest honey, and eyes as blue as the ocean. She'd heard the volunteers who came here each year were dedicated to their role-playing, in the extreme. Telford Gaynor was obviously one of those. He'd given a very pretty speech, and seemed to lack no confidence. Tilting her head to one side, she decided to play along with his gambit. "Sir Knight, your compliments are most appreciated, and I applaud your accomplishment in making such an arduous journey. What prize, pray tell, could inspire such fervor?" His smile was intriguing, a combination of cheek and heat that actually sent a flutter through her belly. The sun chose that moment, she thought, to shine just a little more brightly, and on him alone. He took a half step forward before answering. "Why, Princess Sophie Liana Maria de la Croix, that prize would be the one your father announced in his proclamation— your hand in marriage, of course." [Back to Table of Contents] 101


Chapter 10 "What do you mean a typographical error? How could there be such a typographical error? I want to see the original proclamation. Now, if you please." Alex wondered who this agitated, demanding young woman before him could be. It certainly wasn't the daughter he knew, for he had never seen Sophie so animated. "You question our word?" Michael's haughty tone conveyed his insult. Alex shook his head. In all the years he'd raised his children, he'd never had to act in the role of referee. It looked as if that was about to change. Sitting back, he watched as Sophie turned on her older brother and jabbed him in the chest with her forefinger. "I have just had a man inform me that he intends to win me as a prize at a tournament. As if I was some sort of a ... a ... cupid doll." "That's kewpie doll," Peter corrected as he entered Alex's office. Alex was pleased to see his security chief and soon-to-be son-in-law adopt a more relaxed pose in his presence. Peter made himself comfortable in one of the visitors' chairs and focused on the disagreement taking place. Sophie's expression darkened even more. "Kewpie, cupid, it does not matter. What matters is that I was standing there in front of this Telford Gaynor person and I felt like a 102


complete fool because I did not know what he was talking about. I want to see that proclamation." Peter's low whistle coincided with Michael's shocked "Telford Gaynor?" Alex raised one eyebrow, intrigued. He quickly smoothed his expression when Sophie spun to face him, her frustration plain. Picking up his telephone, he asked his secretary to bring him the original document that he'd signed just the day before. Then he turned his attention back to Michael and Peter, pinning them both with a piercing stare. "Who is this Telford Gaynor?" he asked. Peter answered immediately, rattling off the information as easily as if he were reading from a dossier. "One of the British dotcom moguls who parlayed the fortune he made in the early days of the Internet into an enormous empire that spans the globe. It's rumored that he will supplant Bill Gates in the Number One slot on the list of the wealthiest men in the world this year. The press has dubbed him the man with the Midas touch." "You know, little sister, you could do much worse than to land such a husband." Alex cringed as that bit of brotherly wisdom echoed in his large office. Even Peter winced, looking at Michael as if he'd suddenly realized Boisdemer's Crown Prince might have been dropped on his head as an infant. And then Sophie did something that Alex had never seen her do before, something he'd have been willing to bet she would never do. She screamed in frustration. 103


Georges, his secretary, chose that moment to come through the door. Giving Sophie a wide berth, he brought the folder he carried to Alex's desk. No one said a word until the man had departed. "Here, ma belle. See for yourself." He watched Sophie as she read, and when she looked up and asked, "How could anyone mistake 'the Princess Royal's Standard' for 'the Princess Royal's hand'?" "I do not know." "Actually, not just one someone. That original document was faxed to every major wire service in the world from this office. And every single one of them has made the same error." Peter said. Then he smiled at Sophie. "See? We are trying to get to the bottom of this mix up." Sophie wasn't impressed. "Who faxed it?" she asked. "Justin did," Michael replied. "Oh. Justin doesn't make mistakes." "The man has been beside himself since we learned of the error," Alex said quietly. "He absolutely swears that this is the document he sent out. As you can see, his initials are in the upper right hand corner." "And yet, every wire service has confirmed the copy they received. I've even had a few of them scan and send them to me. And sure enough, it says 'hand' instead of 'standard' on every single one." "Wait a minute," Sophie said, shooting a startled look at Peter. "Did you say every wire service?" "Europe and the Americas," he confirmed cheerfully. Then he flashed her a smile, showing Alex that he'd already 104


become Sophie's brother at heart. "I expect you're going to be fending off a whole slew of suitors. I'll even bet some of the offers are going to be worth considering." "Are you out of your mind? You must be. But then, so is Telford Gaynor. Surely to God, the two of you must be the only ones. Grown men in this day and age could not possibly believe for one minute—"Sophie waived her arms as she spoke, her voice rising with each word. The high emotion was back, and Alex was glad to see it. But she was still his little girl, and fatherly instinct to soothe and protect kicked in. "Sophie?" When she stopped her pacing and gave him her attention, he said, "Despite the fact that there will be a medieval tournament, these are not medieval times. Rest assured that your 'hand' is not going to be offered as a prize in the tournament. And I doubt very much that any of the entrants is going to toss you over the back of his horse and carry you off into the sunset." "That could not happen anyway," Michael said cheerfully. "The tournament is to take place mid-morning." "Michael." Alex had the devil's own time not laughing. "I'm sorry. Sophie, Papa is right. No one can claim you as their prize." Alex marveled as his daughter folded her arms over her chest and gave all three of them a very stern stare. Hardly appeased, Sophie shook her head. "Then someone had better inform Monsieur Gaynor of that fact. He seemed the sort who would entirely enjoy doing just that." **** 105


For the first time in his life, Stephan wanted to punch something. He closed the door to his suite and surveyed the empty corridor. Working out in the gym hadn't diminished his foul mood. Perhaps a walk in the garden, or down by the beach, would. Directing his steps toward the grand staircase, his thoughts returned to the source of his annoyance. Since Saturday, all he and Sophie had been able to manage were quick kisses stolen at unexpected moments. Every plan they had made to get together had been thwarted, by one person or another. Oh, they'd seen each other every day. At meals. On tours that Michael had hastily arranged and Stephan's parents had insisted he attend. Sophie had returned to her position at the orphanage yesterday, which limited the time they could scheme to meet. Neither of them could understand, nor explain, their inability to stay awake long enough at night to manage a tryst. It was almost, Stephan thought whimsically, as if some supernatural force worked to keep them apart. It was Wednesday, and Stephan had thought he'd be making arrangements to return home with his parents after Alex and Hannah's wedding tomorrow night. But he couldn't return yet. He'd only tasted Sophie once, and he needed to love her again. "That's quite a frown you're wearing there, Your Highness. Worried about the competition?" Stephan turned, the mocking tone in Peter Jones' voice briefly making him forget his annoyance. Until he replayed the man's words through his mind and frowned in earnest. 106


"Competition?" "You haven't heard? That's amazing, all things considered." "Perhaps you would be so kind as to enlighten me?" Peter seemed to think about it for a moment. "No, I think I'll let Sophie do that. You know, I'm surprised that with your background, you haven't made a visit to the Children's Home before now." Stephan raised one eyebrow, fully aware that the imperious gesture would have no effect whatsoever on the security chief. Peter's inference was clear, and Stephan couldn't keep the slight edge out of his voice. "You had me investigated?" "You were going to be spending several days under the same roof with everyone in the world that I love. Bet your ass I had you investigated. Funny how the tabloids keep harping about your playboy ways, and no one mentions your degree in psychology, or the fact that you work with troubled children and teens at home." "Being characterized as a playboy is better press." And usually the thought didn't sting. Stephan shook his head, impatient with himself and these peculiar moods he'd been falling into lately. "There's a black Mercedes out in the circular drive with the keys in it. Leave now and you'd have time enough for a tour. And then, of course, you could steal her away for a private lunch. Since she's in charge of the place, there's no one to tell her she can't take the rest of the day off." 107


"No arrangements have been made for such a visit," Stephan replied, wondering why he hadn't thought to ask Michael to do exactly that. "Hell, if you're going to let that stop you, I have no sympathy for you at all." Stephan watched as Peter walked away, his tone of mild disgust prickling his conscience. He knew where the Home for Children was, as it had been pointed out to him just the day before when Michael had taken him to the military college. Taking himself off without notice to drop in and pay the school, and the administrator, a visit would be an unexpected move. Stephan smiled. If it was unexpected, chances were no one would stop him. Spinning on his heel, he headed out. **** She didn't want him to know she was there. Hanging back from the entrance to the playroom, Sophie stood quietly and watched the crown prince of Montgermane as he sat on the floor at a round table and played. Beside him, wearing her customary somber face, Anna Colbert worked fastidiously at forming shapes with modeling clay. "No matter how hard I try, I can never get the shape right." That confession from Stephan made Sophie smile. "That's all right. It doesn't matter if what you are making doesn't look like an elephant to anybody else. It's your art and can be however you want it to be. That's what my papa used to say." 108


"Your papa sounds as if he was a very wise man." Sophie held her breath. Anna hadn't spoken of her family since waking in the hospital, the lone survivor of a car accident that had taken her parents and younger brother nearly six months before. "It was my fault. They're all dead and it's my fault." "Why do you say that?" Sophie's eyes widened, and she nearly stepped forward. Stephan couldn't possibly know the importance of this moment. Yet something held her back, something in the tone of his question asked even as he continued to work with the modeling clay. "Papa told me to leave Emile alone. He told me to sit still and be quiet. But I was so mad at my brother, I took his little truck from him and threw it on the floor of the car. Emile started to scream, and Papa yelled, and we crashed. It was my fault because I was bad." "I have a younger brother, and sometimes he would make me so mad I wanted to throw something at him." "But you didn't make your Papa have a car crash." "No, I didn't. And neither did you. Your teacher, Xavière, told me about your car accident. It was not your fault, petite. A man in another car driving on the autobahn was drunk." Anna's eyes widened and true horror filled her face. "You're not supposed to drive when you are drunk!" It was the most impassioned sentence Sophie had ever heard the little girl speak. "You're right. The gendarmes think that the man fell asleep, which was why his car crashed into yours. He was 109


arrested after he got out of the hospital. He is going to be spending a very long time in jail." Sophie's vision blurred as Stephan turned to the little girl. He touched her cheek gently and Anna looked up at him, hanging on his every word. "It was wrong to taunt your brother when your papa told you to leave him be. But that did not cause the accident. And I think your papa, and your mama too, would be very sad if they knew you thought so. Do you know what else I believe? I believe their hearts would be filled with joy that you survived the crash, that you're well. They would want you to be happy, too." "Truly?" "Truly. If you don't believe me, just ask Princess Sophie." They both looked at her at the same moment. Despite her own tears, Sophie smiled and went to them. She sat on the floor on the other side of Anna. Instead of talking, though, she simply opened her arms to the child. As Anna's tears soaked her shoulder, Sophie held her tight, and met Stephan's gaze. He shook his head gently, but smiled. One masculine hand stroked a small female head, and Sophie thought she'd never seen a more compassionate gesture. **** "How did you know?" "How did I know what?" Stephan asked. He had accompanied Sophie back to her office, once they'd turned an exhausted Anna over to one of the volunteers. The 110


grandmotherly woman had put her arm around the little girl, snuggled her in, and assured Sophie that she'd be just fine. "What to say to Anna. We've been trying to reach her for months. None of us have been successful." "She wasn't ready then. Today she was." "I don't think you understand—" "Yes, I do." Stephan took Sophie's hand, brought it to his lips. "I came here to see if I could entice the headmistress to join me for lunch." "It isn't really lunch you want." He laughed, delighted with her teasing. Wrapping his arms around her, he said, "It is lunch I want. With you on the menu. Main course and dessert." A wave of need washed through him, and he tightened his hold on her, even as his smile sobered. "There are so many things I want to do with you. To you." It pleased him enormously not only that she seemed flustered, but also so obviously aroused. He could smell her heat, a fragrance that screamed to all his senses, demanding that he take what belonged to him, what had belonged to no other. His mood had shifted again, damn it, and he didn't truly know what to do with these fierce compulsions. He stepped back, took her hand, and began to lead her out of her office. They would have lunch somewhere quiet. Then they'd see if they could find a nice, private spot. Somewhere. Anywhere. "You shouldn't talk like that. You're leaving after father's wedding tomorrow, and we haven't had much luck getting together, lately. Perhaps it's for the best." "What if I decide to extend my visit?" 111


"Then you could help fend off the crazed would-be knights, should the need arise." He'd pushed open the door to the outside, and was about to ask her what she meant by that odd remark. He didn't get the chance. A veritable sea of paparazzi pressed forward, shouting questions as flashes exploded before their eyes. It was his instinctive reaction to shield Sophie by pulling her behind him. The muscles of his face drew taut, and as used as he was to the attention and scrutiny of the world's media, he wondered if this time he was about to lose his temper. "Prince Stephan, is it true that your father has threatened to disown you if you don't enter the tournament?" "Princess Sophie, how do you feel about being offered up as a prize to the winner?" Stephan gauged his chances, then shot a look over his shoulder. "Do you want to run for it?" "Yes, please." Facing the crowd, he ordered, "Out of the way!" He'd been counting on his uncharacteristically fierce expression to clear a path. As soon as a space opened, he surged forward, pulling Sophie after him. It took only moments to get her into the car. Ignoring the reporters who'd mounted a new offensive, he got behind the wheel, fired the engine, and stepped on the gas. Watching the horde disappear in the rearview mirror, he asked Sophie, "What the hell was that?" "According to my father, that was a typographical error." [Back to Table of Contents] 112


Chapter 11 Hannah remembered very clearly her first wedding day. They hadn't had a lot of money, and her mother had set very definite restrictions on the event. Because Hannah had been sixteen and pregnant, her mother had forbidden her to wear white. As well, only a handful of people were invited to the church, and a restaurant dinner afterwards. She'd gone to the hairdresser's alone, and gotten dressed alone. No twittering and giggling friends passed the preparation time with her. No photographer stood ready to record the day for posterity. She recalled thinking, as she waited for her father to walk her down the aisle of their small church, that the occasion had resembled a penance more than a celebration. She'd kept her mother's unbending attitude in mind when, nearly twenty years later, her own teenage daughter had gotten pregnant. She'd promised Catharine then if she wanted to walk down the aisle eight months pregnant wearing white, that would be fine with her. The memory slid back into the past where it belonged, replaced by the images she'd gathered so far of this wedding day. She'd awakened in Alex's arms, surrounded by his heat and his love. They'd come together without words, the emotion between them so potent, so breathtakingly moving, she nearly cried. At breakfast, there had been laughter and teasing. Justin had served mimosas, and Philip and Catharine had arrived 113


from the farm, interrupting their honeymoon to share the day with Hannah and Alex. In the afternoon, her daughters and daughter-in-law brought her into the Queen's Solar, where she experienced that ritual of female pampering she'd enjoyed once before. But this time, not only did the attendants fuss over her, so did the girls. They were all excited and nervous for her. Hannah wasn't nervous at all, only impatient for dusk to arrive so she could exchange vows with the man she loved. She returned to her room to dress, planning to wear an ivory satin cocktail suit, one of the outfits Alex had given her a couple of weeks before. He'd offered, of course, but she'd declined the services of a dressmaker. She didn't need a fancy wedding dress. She just needed Alex. As she entered the bedroom, she saw the box on the bed. Alex was nowhere to be seen, and she wondered if that was on purpose. Shaking her head she couldn't keep the smile off her face. Alex had told her she needed to get used to receiving gifts. As far as she was concerned, the very fact that he loved her and wanted her for his wife was gift enough to last a lifetime. But as he seemed to derive great pleasure out of giving her things, she guessed she'd best get used to it. Sighing, she approached the box. It was plain white, decorated with a red ribbon and bow. There was a large tag attached, with a message written in sparkly gold script. "From your fairy godmothers," Hannah read aloud. Then she narrowed her eyes. "Godmothers? Plural?" Maybe it 114


wasn't Alex who'd done this. Shrugging, she pulled off the ribbon and opened the box. "Oh my God." Her fingers shook as she lifted out the gown, instantly familiar yet not seen in more than thirty years. Her mind flashed back to that long ago time when she'd been looking through the pages of a bridal magazine. She'd turned a page and been instantly captivated, in love with the dress as only a teenage girl could be. It had been an almost iridescent white, gossamer, with tiny gold threads woven throughout. At the time, the way the fabric cascaded over the model's figure had made Hannah think of fairies' wings. Empire waist, long flowing skirt, the gown had been the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen. Oh, how badly she'd wanted it, and how bitter had been her tears when her mother had told her that such a dress could never be hers. And here it was now, in her hands! She laid the wedding dress on the bed, gently smoothing the fabric, though of course it needed no smoothing. For a long moment she simply stared at it, the wonder and the magic she sensed in it shimmering through her. "Grandma, are there really such things as fairy godmothers?" "Yes." The words echoed in her memory. Hannah's heart filled with joy and gratitude. "Thank you. Not just for the gown. But for everything. For me and Alex, Catharine and Philip, Peter and Rachel. And Sophie, too, as I doubt you'll leave the task only partly done." 115


No one answered, of course. But she didn't need to hear the voices. Faith was like that. Discarding her robe, Hannah reached for the gown. She didn't check the size. She knew it would fit perfectly. Faith was like that, too. **** Alex remembered his first wedding day. It had been regimented and choreographed to the finest detail. He'd gone through the motions, knowing with every breath that it was duty, not love that steered the events, and accepting that with—well, if not with a cheerful heart, at least a heart that was free of resentment. This day had been free of regimentation and filled instead with joy. Even as the women of his family had ushered Hannah off to be pampered, the men had taken him in hand. "There's a tradition in Canada," Peter had said as they'd entered the games room, "called the bachelor party. Usually it takes place about a month before the wedding, allowing the groom sufficient time to recover." "Recover from what, Uncle Peter?" Jamie had asked. Alex had enjoyed the look of chagrin on Peter's face, the laughter on Craig's, and the curiosity of his sons and other grandsons. "That's not important. What is important is that as men we need to at least give some attention to this fine tradition." They played poker and ate pizza. The younger males among them—Richard, John and Jamie—had shown enough affinity for the card game that it left their fathers more than a 116


little nervous. With laughter and wisecracks, they had each given Alex their theories of and advice about marriage and relationships. Jamie's contribution, "when you're married you have to kiss your wife all the time", pronounced with such disgust, had been especially heartwarming. No honor he'd ever received meant more, and no gathering had ever been more fun than this bachelor party. Now, under the stars all was nearly ready. The archbishop had arrived, and was proving a good sport about performing a wedding ceremony on the beach. Justin had seen to transforming the venue into something quite special. Red carpet provided a temporary floor, and candles protected by glass globes leant the beach an exotic appearance. All that was needed was the bride. He and Hannah had decided theirs would be a simple ceremony. They'd chosen to forgo formal attendants. His oldest friends, the Benets, were here. Together with his children and Hannah's, and their grandchildren, they formed a semi-circle, enclosing them all in an intimate group. As soon as Hannah appeared at the top of the beach stairs, he was mesmerized. It was as if everyone else had disappeared and they were the only two people in the world. Had there ever been a more beautiful woman? Alex knew the answer was no. The light from the candles became tiny jewels, sparkling and twinkling all through her hair as she descended the stairs with slow, seductive grace. Her dress shimmered, swirling colors of white and gold, pink and silver and a fine delicate blue, as if the garment had been woven by magic from mother of pearl. No wonder she'd declined his 117


offer of a new gown when she already had the perfect one chosen. His first sight of her on that moon-washed beach more than a month before had compelled him to compare her to a goddess. No goddess could compare, this night, to her. He held out his hand, and when she took it, he led her the few steps to where Archbishop Drapeau was waiting. "We are gathered here together at this time and in this place, to witness the marriage of Alexandre Michel Philippe de la Croix and Hannah Elizabeth Jones," the archbishop intoned, the twinkle in his eyes belying his solemn pronouncement. "The bride and groom have chosen to write their own vows." Alex turned to Hannah. Lifting the hand he still held to his lips, he kissed it. He was unashamed that his eyes were moist. He never believed such a moment could ever be his. "Do you have any idea, my love, how incredibly happy you make me? For the last decade, I've raised my children and ruled my country, and told myself I was content. Yet there was a loneliness deep within me, a yearning I thought would never be fulfilled. And then one evening, I looked up and there you were. I love you with all my heart, and I will love you for all of my life and beyond. I will share your burdens, and your joys, and ask that you share mine, for every moment, of every day, from this time, forward." He brought Hannah's hands to his lips and kissed them again. The tear that tracked down her cheek sparkled in the candlelight. Her smile was more brilliant than all the stars in the heavens. And when she gave him her own vow, her voice was clear and strong and the sweetest sound he'd ever heard. 118


"I thought I knew what love was. I thought I knew what the rest of my life had in store for me and I, too, believed myself content. And then I met you, and I understood that I'd never really known anything about love at all. I love you more than I believed I could love, and loving you, I understand, as never before, that all things are possible. Magic brought us together. Love will keep us together for all of eternity. I will care for you, and trust that you will care for me. I will laugh with you and cry with you and live every moment of every day with you, joyfully, gratefully, from this time, forward." The archbishop turned to Michael, and Alex's eldest son carefully placed a ring on the pages of the open Bible he held. When the cleric turned to Catharine, she set another ring beside the first. "These rings are but symbols of the love and commitment you've pledged, one to the other." When the archbishop had blessed the rings, Alex reached for the smaller of the two. He held it in place over Hannah's finger. "With this ring, I declare you my wife, and my queen. Everything I have is yours. Now and forever." Then he slid it all the way onto her finger, and offered his own left hand to her. He'd not worn a ring last time. But he wanted, very much, to wear Hannah's ring now. "With this ring, I declare you my husband, my king, my liege lord. In accordance with the customs of the royal house of Boisdemer, I will serve and defend you, and her, with all that I am, for all of the rest of the days of my life." 119


Alex felt his heart turn over as Hannah spoke the traditional words of the Queen's Pledge of Fealty. Her smile, as she then knelt before him, told him she knew she'd surprised him. It was his turn to surprise her. He nodded to Justin, who stepped forward, a cushion of royal blue velvet in his hands. Alex picked up the delicate crown, and the servant bowed and stepped back to his place. "This was my grandmother's crown," he said softly as tears welled up in Hannah's eyes. "Like you, Isabella was a woman of strength and character. A woman who nurtured, and loved. It was among her roses you agreed to be my wife. How fitting, then, that you wear her crown." He set the delicate piece of gold, bejeweled with diamonds and sapphires, on her head. Queen Isabella's Crown was one of the smallest of the coronets in the crown jewels, which was another reason he'd chosen it. His Hannah didn't like ostentatious at all. He brought her to her feet, and turned them both to face the archbishop, who blessed them before saying, "I pronounce you husband and wife." As Alex leaned forward, capturing Hannah's lips with his, the night sky exploded into glittering colors, red and green, brilliant silver and gold. Breaking their kiss, he put his arm around his wife and marveled at the unexpected celestial display. "They're coming from everywhere!" Hannah whispered in wonder. 120


"So they are." From every direction, all across the skies of Boisdemer, fireworks were cascading color upon dazzling color. Little Michelle shrieked and laughed with joy, awed by the display. Alex smiled, thoroughly enjoying her delight. Before long, her brothers and cousin joined in. "People were so happy that you and father were to be married," Philip said. "Someone suggested they light fireworks as soon as you were wed. The idea took hold." "Magic and love," Alex murmured, and kissed the top of Hannah's head when she leaned closer to him. "Yes?" she whispered. "You said magic and love, and I know, standing here right now, you were absolutely right. There's magic in the air, and has been, since we met." "Do you mind? That magic had a hand in our coming together?" His heart was so full, he was amazed he could contain all the love he felt. Leaning forward, he kissed her. "Mind? My beloved wife, I'll be grateful for that magic for as long as I live." "My dear husband, I feel the exactly the same way." [Back to Table of Contents]

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Chapter 12 Sophie looked out from the balcony off her suite, the setting sun casting a gentle glow across the palace grounds. From her vantage point, she had a perfect view of the steady stream of cars that were carrying guests for what the press had dubbed the 'Dowry Ball'. This entire event, she thought morosely, had gotten completely out of hand. It astounded her that the more her father insisted that his daughter was not for sale, the more the media of the world seemed to think she was. She'd even appeared with Hannah and her father on an American television morning show, where they'd been interviewed specifically about the charity event. Her father and Hannah had been brilliant with the hosts, who had concluded that any woman as beautiful as Sophie certainly didn't need her father's help to nab a husband. Sophie frowned, the uncomfortable sensation that had plagued her since hearing the commentator's opinion returning to shiver down her spine. A noise in the room behind her made her turn away from the view. Her maid was standing near the bed, quietly waiting. Re-entering her bedroom, she closed the terrace doors and offered Paulette a smile. "Thank you for being so patient with me. I suppose I've put off getting ready long enough." "I'm at your service whenever you wish, Your Highness. Are you planning to leave your hair down tonight?" 122


Unlike other occasions, she hadn't bothered to use the spa staff today. In fact, Sophie hadn't given her appearance for tonight a single thought. She'd kept herself busy all day in the vain hope that if she put the evening out of her mind, it would go away. Since that hadn't worked, she reconsidered her approach. "No, Paulette. I think I want it up. We'll use my double tier silver tiara, I think. And I've changed my mind on the gown as well. Rather than wearing the soft gold, I want the silver. You know the one I mean?" "The one that fashion reporter said was 'reminiscent of an icicle'?" Sophie laughed. "You understand what I mean to do!" "I think so, Your Highness. You intend to project the image you've been labeled with." "I do, indeed. Let's see how well we can put together an ice princess. Perhaps I'll be able to turn these would-be suitors away with just a chilling stare." **** "I think we may be in danger of violating the fire code." Stephan looked over at Peter. The man was never really still. Even though Peter stood immobile beside him, his eyes were on a constant sweep of the room, and Stephan understood that he was always vigilant, always on guard. "In what way?" "The number of people here," Peter explained. "I've never seen the ballroom so full." 123


Stephan studied the crowd. The orchestra was playing, and waiters were circulating with refreshments. In just a few moments, Alex and Hannah, and Sophie, would be announced. "Is it my imagination, or are there a lot more men than women here?" "Not your imagination, pal. That 'typographical error' is turning into the lie that would not die. The majority of these suitors, as well as most of the press, are convinced that Sophie is the top prize." "They are not suitors, they are delusional miscreants." Stephan stubbornly ignored the edge in his voice and what it meant. "When we were accosted the other day leaving the Children's Home, I thought that was the most insane thing I had ever seen. Now, I stand corrected." "You know," Peter said, looking Stephan straight in the eye, "It's the strangest damn thing. Of all the men who are attending tonight, there are 70 named King, 21 named Roi, 18 named Rey, and 12 named Koenig. And then of course, there's Mr. Gaynor." "I'm missing your point," Stephan replied. Truly, it was becoming difficult to give Peter his full attention when Sophie would be there at any moment. "Don't you think it's strange? They're all variations of the word 'king'. And Gaynor's nickname is 'The man with the Midas Touch. You remember the fairy tale, about King Midas? I just thought it was odd." The orchestra sounded a fanfare. A hush fell over the crowd as all eyes turned toward the Grand Entrance. 124


"Ladies and gentlemen, their majesties, King Alexandre and Queen Hannah, accompanied by Princess Sophie, the Princess Royal." "Still gives me a shiver," Peter murmured. Stephan joined with the guests in applauding. He shot a smile to his new friend. "Hard to get used to, your mother being a queen? Or is it the fact that Uncle Alex is bestowing the title of Duke of Cardinia upon you, since you're marrying his daughter?" Peter laughed. "It's a good thing I love that woman. And speaking of women, had you hoped to dance with Sophie tonight?" The barely suppressed laughter on Peter's face immediately raised his suspicions. "It seems to be the only way I can get my hands on her lately, so yes." "Good luck. I think the lady's dance card is already full." "Dance card?" "It's one of the reasons the media have dubbed this the 'Dowry Ball'. As with seasonal cotillions of centuries past, gentlemen apply, in this case by making a donation, for the privilege of dancing with the debutante also known, in this case, as the Princess Royal. Helene tells me that an unprecedented amount has been raised in support of children's projects throughout the kingdom." Stephan snorted, his mood sinking down another notch. "This situation has gotten entirely out of hand." "I'm just hopping no one thinks they can make off with her tomorrow, after the tournament. After all the assurances 125


Alex, Michael and I have given her, it would be a pain in the ass to be proven liars." Stephan wasn't really listening any more. He had his attention fixed on the line of men that seemed to start at Sophie and wind around the ballroom. One look at her face told him how very much she hated this attention. Perhaps his name was not on a card for a dance, but she had to be allowed a break at some point in the evening. When she was ready for a rest, he'd be there. And in the mean time, he'd make sure that no would-be lothario stepped out of line with her, even as he formulated his own plan. Something had to be done. **** "Our daughter seems just a bit overwhelmed." Hannah followed Alex's discreet gesture to where Sophie stood. The line of men waiting to dance with her hadn't shortened, despite the fact they were an hour into the evening. Then she shifted her attention slightly. As she watched, Stephan cut through the crowd to intercept Sophie and her next partner just as the orchestra began to play another waltz . He appeared quite determined as he said something to the gentleman waiting for his turn. Then he placed Sophie's hand on his arm, nodded to the other man, and escorted Sophie to the restricted corridor that led to the family salon and out of the room. "She's not the only one who's annoyed," Hannah noted. 126


The look of bafflement on Alex's face was priceless. "Why would Stephan be annoyed? I saw him earlier, dancing with that American actress. He seemed to be enjoying himself well enough." She couldn't suppress her chuckle. "It's a comfort to me, darling, to realize you're not that much different from ordinary men." "Have I just been insulted?" "No, sweetheart. And to enlighten you, the reason Stephan is annoyed is that he's smitten with our daughter." "Is he?" Alex's expression turned from baffled to pleased in a heartbeat. "You know, darling, he'd be a good match for Sophie, if she were in the market for one. They have one major passion in common, children. It's not widely known, but Stephan holds a doctorate in child psychology, and he spends several days a month working with damaged children, primarily at the hospital in Montgermane's capital." "I agree. He would be a good match for her. But what we think doesn't much matter. It's what Sophie thinks that counts. So far, I think she likes him. But it's always been too easy for her. Her life has always been organized and orderly and she's used to being in control. And the same may be said, I believe, of Stephan. Maybe if things aren't as simple as they've always been for those two, they'll see each other a bit more clearly." "Hannah, how long have you known—" "That they're in love with each other and don't realize it? Oh, well before we decided to do this," Hannah replied, opening her hands to indicate the ball. 127


Alex laughed, then put his arm around her and kissed the top of her head. She slipped her arm around him and rested her head on his shoulder. Such displays of affection, she knew, had never been witnessed before in the royal court of Boisdemer. She smiled, pleased that protocol could so easily bend to accommodate their love. "Your Majesties." Hannah turned with her husband to encounter Telford Gaynor. The man is certainly tenacious enough. The only thing that really bothered her about him was that he seemed to be trying too hard. Surely the man didn't need to bow quite so low, or so eagerly. But, she sighed inwardly, she might feel that way because she wasn't used to being accorded the honor. Hannah smiled politely and left the conversation up to Alex. "Ah, Mr. Gaynor. We hope you're enjoying your time in Boisdemer." "I am, Your Majesty. May I compliment you on your lovely daughter?" "Which one, sir? I now have five lovely daughters, and they are all in attendance tonight." "Indeed, sire, I stand corrected. I meant, of course, the beautified Princess Sophie." Alex tilted his head to one side. "That's an ill phrase, a vile phrase. Beautified is a vile phrase." At the last moment, Hannah was able to turn her laugh into a cough. She couldn't believe Alex had said that. Seeing the look of real consternation on Mr. Gaynor's face, she quickly stepped in to smooth things over. 128


"You must forgive the king, Mr. Gaynor. He thought you were a fellow Shakespeare aficionado, and so was trading quotes with you." The man was quick, she'd give him that. In only took a moment for his frown to clear. "Ah yes, of course. From Hamlet." "Indeed." In an attempt to steer his interest away from Sophie, she said, "The king and I are both very grateful to you for your generous contributions to the children's charity fund. Aren't we, Alex?" She was proud that despite the fact she knew Alex was on the verge of boisterous laughter, he was able to contain himself. "Indeed, we are. Are you planning to actually compete in the tournament tomorrow, Mr. Gaynor?" "Oh, absolutely, sire. I realize that it isn't enough to 'make a donation of cash' in order to win the fair Sophie's hand. I must prove myself in the lists, as well. But don't worry. I've been jousting for a hobby for many years now. I've even won some championships. They don't call me the man with the Midas touch for nothing. I've never failed at anything I've set my mind to. I don't imagine I'll start, now. I fully intend to win." "The donation was for charity." There wasn't a trace of amusement left in Alex's voice. "Our daughter is not being offered, not in any way. If and when she marries, it will be to someone of her own choosing." "Of course, Your Majesty. I understand completely. If you'll excuse me?" 129


"Did that man just wink at me?" Alex demanded as Gaynor walked away. It took all of Hannah's strength to hold him back from following the other man and demanding an answer. "He did. Relax, love." But he wasn't relaxed, of course. Beneath her hands, he was rigid with indignation. "I don't care if he's got more money than God. Bloody dotcom mogul. That man is not going to marry our daughter." "Of course not, love." "I must apologize to Sophie at once. She's been upset for days, and I've been placating her with bland assurances. If this is the kind of pig-headed attitude she's been encountering, no bloody wonder she's been upset. I've a mind to have him tossed into the dungeon. Let him dotcom his way out of that. And why are you smiling at me that way?" Hannah couldn't help it. She went up on her toes and placed a laughing kiss on Alex's lips. "You may be like an ordinary man in some ways, but in others, you're one of a kind, Alex. And, thank goodness, you're all mine." **** Floating just near the ceiling in the ballroom, Gwendolyn was humming along with the music. It was something light and flirty. There were many things about this modern age she didn't care for, but the music entertained her. She glanced over her shoulder to tell Eugenia just that, then widened her eyes in concern as she took in her sister's appearance. 130


"My goodness, Eugenia, whatever is wrong? Why, you look as if you're exhausted!" "Well, I am tired, sister. This has been a long assignment, don't you think? Perhaps we've overextended ourselves." "What an odd thing to say. I feel full of energy, not tired at all." Gwendolyn frowned, then surveyed the ballroom. She let her mind recount all that had been happening in this tiny kingdom over the last several days. Slowly, realization dawned. Her eyes narrowed. "Sister, you're clearly suffering from a depletion of magic. Is there something you'd like to share with me?" "Um..." Eugenia's stumbling attempt at an answer was a first in Gwendolyn's experience. Eugenia, as the eldest, had always been the one to lead, to be the steady influence. Oh, Gwendolyn knew she could be flighty sometimes. But it had never seemed to matter, for she'd always had Eugenia to rely upon. She could always count on her older sister to be a calming influence against any inappropriate whims she might have. But now... "Sister, what have you done?" "Oh, dear. I looked and looked, but there weren't any real crown princes or kings, you see. So I searched and searched and found Mr. Gaynor. He's tall, rich, and handsome. As rich as Midas. In many ways, he is a modern day king. I thought he'd be a good match for our Sophie. Much better suited to someone of her genteel ways than that rake, that wastrel Prince Stephan. The Playboy Prince indeed." Eugenia 131


practically huffed in indignation, but she wouldn't meet Gwendolyn's gaze. "That explains the presence of Mr. Gaynor. But your magic is far too gone for just him. And what about the others?" "Well, I had to make sure that playboy prince didn't touch our Sophie again. It hasn't been easy, as they both seem rather determined to be together. As for the others, they ... were a slight miscalculation. I think it may be possible that I don't understand this modern world as well as I thought I did." "Oh my. All those kings, who aren't kings at all." "I tried to take it back—" "But you can't. We're only allowed to do so much." "We are, indeed. I guess we'll just have to wait and hope for the best." "Yes, sister, I think that's all we can do." She patted her sister's hand, not necessarily displeased to be the one with the level head, this once. "There is just one thing, though." "Yes, Gwendolyn?" "You're wrong about Prince Stephan. He really is a nice boy." [Back to Table of Contents]

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Chapter 13 Sophie had prayed for a thunderstorm. What she got was the most beautiful late summer day anyone could imagine. A brilliant blue sky cradled only a few white, incredibly fluffy clouds, and the sun bathed all in golden light and warmth. Last night had been a trial. Used as she was to formal state functions, the ordeal of the ball had drained her. Thank goodness for Stephan. His timely actions, dragging her to the family salon for breaks, cutting in when one particular dance partner tried to grope, had saved her sanity. So where the hell is he now? Sophie shook her head as that question echoed in her mind. She'd managed very well on her own all her adult life, until the last couple of weeks. The very idea that she wanted him beside her now as she prepared to host the tournament was counter to everything she'd ever believed about herself. She had decided that she would live her life alone even before her mother died. As she'd matured, as that decision had become a part of her, she determined that truly, she didn't really need a man for anything, especially since becoming a wife and mother were totally out of the question. Yet here she was, dressed as a medieval princess, wishing for one man in particular to stand by her side. If she were going to be fanciful, then she'd want him there dressed in full battle armor, all in white, and charged with the duty of guarding her from mere mortal men. 133


The trumpet fanfare pulled her back to the present. Although her father and Hannah sat behind her, she was the official hostess for the tournament. A huge cheer went up from the crowd. Sophie had never known so many people to gather here before. Clearly, tourists had come from all over Europe to watch this event. She let her gaze track to the right. Cramped up along the fence, the media had assembled en masse. Shaking her head over all the fuss, she turned her attention back to the rider who alone had left the stables at the far end of the field and was trotting his horse toward the royal box. She recognized Robert. Dressed in the medieval regalia of a Knight of the Citadel, and carrying a lance at parade rest, he stopped his horse before her. Bowing his head first to the king and queen, and then to her, he raised his voice in salute. "Your Highness, twelve knights have assembled to prove their worth on this field of challenge. With your permission, they would present themselves to you." "They have it, sir knight." Robert again bowed his head to her, and then backed his horse up until he was no longer directly in front of the royal family. Turning, he raised his lance and yelled, "Send in the knights!" Another fanfare trumpeted across the field. As the crowd cheered, riders on horseback emerged from the stables. Leading the pack was a man dressed in the shiniest silver armor Sophie had ever seen, wearing a helmet that had a long white plume atop it. The mane of his horse had been groomed and decorated with white and blue ribbon. The very 134


blue, Sophie realized, as was in the family's coat of arms. Cheeky bastard at least knows how to ride a horse. Gaynor's armor looked brand new, with not a ding or mark upon it. Judging by his serious expression, the man was intent on winning the day—and Sophie. In his right hand he carried a long pole atop of which was a pennant of some sort. "Well, that's telling. His company logo instead of the flag of his country." Michael's comment nearly made Sophie laugh. "I thought you liked him as a prospective brother-in-law." "No, I was only teasing you. Peter tells me this is something that one is supposed to do to one's sister." Sophie managed to bite back an uncharacteristically scathing comment. The knights that followed Gaynor in the procession wore less splendiferous armor. Unlike Gaynor, each carried their national flag. Sophie shook her head as she saw France, Italy, Germany and even the United States represented. The knights were to canter their horses in a lap of the inner playing field, so that all the spectators could get a good look at each one. Then they were to line up facing the royals. As the last knight reached his place, a murmur rose up from the crowd. Sophie saw the spectators closest to the royal box looking and pointing toward the stables. Wondering what had so captured their attention, she looked beyond the assembled knights and their restive mounts to the stables across the field.

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A horse and rider had emerged and stood motionless under the collective scrutiny. They were so still, so perfect, it was as if they were cast in stone by a master artist. The animal, a beautiful black, held its head slightly high, an equine exclamation of superiority, Sophie thought. Its chest looked powerful, the muscles rippling in well-defined swells under the glossy, shiny hide. The rider, also dressed in black, sat tall and proud, and though his head was covered with a cowl, with only holes for his eyes and mouth, he might have worn a superior expression as well, for it showed in every line of his form. He carried a lance, but no flag. "Robert said twelve," Sophie said quietly. The man in black would make thirteen. "So he did." Even as her brother's words echoed in her ears, the rider nudged his horse into motion. At an indolent pace, the creature walked toward the royal box. "According to the laws of Boisdemer, a knight may enter a tournament without application, provided he pays the fee of thirty pieces of gold before the banner has been dropped." That charge, delivered by the unknown knight, was delivered in flawless French. Sophie felt her temper spark, because the arrogant man had not addressed her, but her brother. Michael, a shocked expression on his face, got to his feet in time to catch the pouch the man tossed to him. "The law does so state," he agreed. There are entirely too many outdated laws in this country. Sophie made a mental note to speak to her father about the problem. But every thought left her head when she felt the 136


black-garbed knight's eyes on her. Sophie shivered as the man's gaze raked her body in a deliberately insolent way. Her hand brushed the skirt of her gown, reassuring herself that she was indeed clothed, and not totally naked before him. "Who are you? What are you called?" She hadn't meant to ask that, at least, she mentally amended, not in such a quivery voice. The knight gave a slight nod to Michael, then clicked his tongue to his horse, rudely turning his back on her. Sophie thought that perhaps he hadn't heard her questions. Halfway to the middle of the field, he turned just slightly, and pinned her with another arrogant stare. "What I am called is of no consequence. You may refer to me as the Black Knight. As to who I am, I thought, highness, that it would be obvious. "I am your champion." **** The tournament consisted of four basic competitions. The first, archery, set the tone for the afternoon, with Gaynor competing first, the Black Knight last. The two men were well matched, and at the end of three rounds had left the rest of the competitors far behind, matching each other point for point. The second contest involved the horses, with the knights attempting to snag four progressively smaller circles onto their lances while galloping their mounts at full speed. This, too, had three rounds. At the end of the final round, Gaynor 137


was ahead of the Black Knight by one point—with no one else even close. For the third event, the riders lined up for the traditional joust. Sophie's tension increased. There might as well have only been two competitors on the field. Throughout the afternoon it had become clear to her that this had turned into a personal challenge, one man against the other. The lances were blunted, made of wood, but that didn't mean the sport was without risk. One of the competitors in the first round was knocked from his horse. While he was only slightly injured, he was out of the tournament. The joust diminished the ranks in short order. It was apparent that even Gaynor and the Black Knight were tiring. Theirs was the final match, and neither appeared willing to give way. With each pass, the heavy impact of wood against shield resonated. Sophie could swear she felt the echo of the blows in her belly. At the end of the event, when neither man was able to knock the other from their mount, Robert declared that they were dead even. The tradition of the last event reached back over centuries. In modern times, Sophie mused, fencing had rules and etiquette. But what the men were preparing to engage in here had neither. This was raw swordplay, such as would have been practiced in medieval times. The sense of history she felt surprised her. As sword met sword and the sharp clang of steel on steel filled the air, Sophie allowed herself to imagine that she was a princess in some by-gone era, witnessing as two men fought, not only for honor and for gain, but for love. What if this were a contest to 138


determine her mate? She knew the history of her country well. In centuries past, daughters were nothing more than chattel, used by their fathers to secure land, money, or alliances. Whether a daughter was in agreement with the marriage contract or not was entirely beside the point. Her parents' marriage would go down in history as the last arranged royal marriage in Boisdemer. She was glad of that fact, grateful her father had decreed an end to the practice. Silver armor and black gleamed in the hot sun as sword continued to beat against sword. It seemed to Sophie that the pace had slowed. Then Gaynor gave a yell, gripped the hilt of his weapon in both hands, and charged the Black Knight. He caught Gaynor's blade with his own on an upward thrust, then spun around, shoving back as he did. Gaynor fell to the ground, and in an instant the Black Knight's sword was at his throat. Sophie surged to her feet as the spectators gasped in shock. "Yield!" The Black Knight's deep voice was filled with menace and cold determination as he demanded the dotcom mogul's surrender like some champion of old. For a long moment Gaynor did nothing. "I said, yield!" Was he going to kill the poor man? Sophie didn't know. Neither, apparently, did anyone else. Finally, slowly, as if it pained him to do so, Gaynor raised his hands, capitulating the match. Immediately the Black Knight turned, bowed to Sophie, and strode toward the stables without another word. 139


Volunteers rushed onto the field to help Gaynor to his feet and escort him to the stables where he, like the other competitors, would get ready to ride in a parade to the center of the field for the awards ceremony. The stunned expression on Michael's face was almost comical, but Sophie didn't feel like laughing. "I'm glad I wasn't the only one who didn't know what that stranger would do," she told him quietly. Michael's response seemed odd. "I still don't." **** The trumpets announced the parade of competitors. A red carpet had been rolled out onto the field where Sophie waited with Robert Montrefort at her back. Each man was to receive an amulet on a silver chain, commemorating the event. Her eyes widened when she surveyed the riders. All had completely divested themselves of their armor, wearing casual twenty-first century clothing, their hair damp from their exertions, their faces wreathed in smiles. All, that is, except the Black Knight. Oh, he'd taken off the armor, all right. But he was still dressed in black and still wore the cowl over his head. Sophie focused on the others. One by one, she presented them with their medal and thanked them for participating in the charitable event. They were all incredibly young, and every one of them behaved like young men who'd had a good time flexing their muscles and flaunting their prowess like knights of old. 140


Telford Gaynor, however, held himself imperiously as he accepted his amulet, as if still dauntingly certain of his superiority. "Perhaps I could call on you later? I'm certain your father won't mind. I was thinking, actually, of locating a branch of my company here. Boisdemer is a beautiful country. My continued presence and my continued interest would be a boost to the local economy, I'm sure." Sophie had never had to handle a persistent suitor before. Falling back on cold etiquette felt wrong, but she didn't know how to tell the man to go jump in the ocean. When the urge to do just that nearly overwhelmed her, she swallowed hard, and muttered a non-committal, "Perhaps." Dismissing Gaynor from her thoughts, she turned to face the Black Knight, determined to find out who he was. Annoyingly, he backed his horse up three paces as she approached him. Refusing to move another step, her voice was cool when she said, "Congratulations, sir knight. You won the competition." Instead of answering, he gave her a slight nod. Taking the final medal from the tray Robert held, Sophie stepped forward, arms raised to slip the chain over his neck, as she'd done with each of the others. He leaned down so she could reach, but stopped just short before she could complete her mission. "So, you admit that I am your champion?" His voice was a husky rasp, only loud enough for the two of them to hear. Sophie scowled, wondering what game the man was playing. She just wanted to give him the damn necklace and 141


go home. When he backed his horse another pace away, she nearly swore. Mindful, however, that everyone was watching her, she decided it couldn't hurt to stroke the man's ego— even if she had no idea who the hell he was. Thousands of dollars had been raised for children's charities, and that, she decided, was the only thing that mattered. "Yes, all right. You're my champion." Reaching up as he bent all the way down, she began to place the chain around his neck. Before she knew what was happening, he wrapped one strongly muscled arm around her waist and scooped her up, startling a squeal of surprise out of her. In the next instant Sophie found herself draped over his lap as if she were a sack of corn. His hand clamped down on her ass as the crowd cheered the bold move. And they continued to cheer as he kicked his horse into a gallop and left the fairgrounds behind. [Back to Table of Contents]

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Chapter 14 "What are you doing? Put me down this instant!" "Be still, little one, so I don't drop you." Stephan felt Sophie go absolutely still under his hands. "Merde. Stephan?" "Such language for a princess," he responded, unable to keep the laughter out of his voice. "I should have known it was—damn it, Stephan, I can't breathe like this!" "Sorry, chérie, I didn't think of that." He waited until they'd rounded a bend in the road, then stopped his horse and lifted her up from her prone position, sitting her upright in front of him. Then he kicked the horse into a gallop. He couldn't help but laugh when Sophie screamed and threw her arms around his neck. "Where are we going? Were you out of your mind competing like that? What if you'd been hurt or killed? And slow down!" "Would it matter to you, Sophie, if I'd been hurt or killed?" he asked, slowing the horse slightly, and tightening his hold on her. "That's a stupid question." Stephan laughed again and hugged her. "We are almost there." Rounding another bend in the road, he took the left fork, reining in his horse to a walk. Just ahead of them was the same black Mercedes Stephan had used once before. 143


The driver's door opened, and Andre, the royal family's stable master, stepped out. "You were in on this?" Sophie's question sounded entirely too tart to have been spoken by an ice princess, in Stephan's opinion. Oh, she's full of fire. "Your Highness?" Clearly, Andre was taken aback by Sophie's tone. Stephan stepped in to save the man. "Andre is merely here to collect the horse." He set Sophie down, and when she took a step back, dismounted himself. The stable master took the reins of the horse, mounted, and nudged the animal into a trot back down the trail Sophie and Stephan had just left. He was out of sight within moments. "We're only about a kilometer from the farm, here," Stephan said. Sophie, a mutinous expression on her face, was still staring in the direction Andre had disappeared with the black horse. When she turned to face him, her frown cleared. "I suppose I should thank you for entering the competition and beating Mr. Gaynor. He didn't appear to be the sort of man who would take no for an answer." "Defeat doesn't seem to have had any effect on that characteristic, little one. Or did you not understand his meaning when you gave him the medal?" "Oh, I understood him. I was just ignoring him." "I do not believe he is the type to be ignored." Stephan led Sophie to the car and saw her seated. He quickly rounded the hood and got into the driver's side. 144


"It may sound like cowardice on my part, but I am perfectly willing to let papa handle his persistence." "It's not cowardice to recognize when you need help, Sophie." "Where are we going?" Stephan had hoped to get just a little farther along the way before she asked that question again. Sighing, he turned to her. "To Calmons Field," he replied, giving her the name of the private airport close by. "Calmons Field? You're ... you're leaving?" "Yes. I've already stayed far longer than I intended. I had scheduled a week for myself in my chalet, in the mountains above Korvan. It's my annual vacation, and if I don't go now, I won't get one this year." "I see." Driving up to the small airfield a few minutes later, Stephan was pleased to see his father's private jet waiting for him. He stopped the car at the gate and turned off the engine. Then, he turned to Sophie. The disappointment he'd heard in her voice gave him hope. "Every attempt we've made to be together has been foiled, either by people or circumstance. I want to spend time with you alone. Come with me, little one." "Now?" "Right now." "But ... no arrangements have been made. My God, my family doesn't even know where I am! Papa must be frantic. I need to call him." She took a deep breath. There was such 145


regret in her eyes, Stephan could have sworn he felt his heart skip a beat. "I have responsibilities. I cannot just ... just leave." "I understand. But answer me one question. Do you want to come with me?" "Yes." There was no hesitation whatsoever in her response. When she reached up and stroked his cheek, his blood began to heat. "Yes, Stephan. I do want to. I really wish I could just say to hell with everything and run away with you for a week." "That's something, at least. Come and kiss me goodbye?" She took his hand when he offered it, and let him lead her toward the plane. "I really wish we could have more time together," she said softly. "I ... well, I wanted to make love again." Stephan brought her hand to his lips and kissed it. "Have you seen father's new toy?" he asked nodding toward the aircraft. "No, although I did hear him telling Papa about it. He's really very proud of it, isn't he?" "He is. Come, have a look. It would please him." "All right." Without any hesitation, she preceded him up the short gangplank and into the plane. Stephan nodded to the steward waiting to greet them. Sophie had stopped just inside the plane and was looking around. He stepped in front of her. She turned her attention from the aircraft's accoutrements to him. "It's very luxurious. Those leather seats look very comfortable." 146


"They are. And now I'll claim my kiss." He took advantage of her distraction, settling his lips on hers and simply plundering. He didn't think he'd ever get enough of the taste of her, or of the way she melted into him whenever he kissed her. When he wrapped his arms around her and lifted her off her feet, she wound her arms around his neck, her tongue as avid and eager as his own. He sat down with her still in his arms, and she moved against him, snuggling into him with all the passion he could wish for. When he clicked the seat belt and the plane began to move, she broke the kiss. Startled eyes looked out the window, then back at him. "What is happening?" "I'm reenacting one of the exploits of my great-great grandfather, Sophie. I'm kidnapping you." **** She couldn't have heard him correctly. Before she could gather her scattered wits, the sensation of the plane accelerating on the runway, inertia pressing her against Stephan's wide, muscular chest, then tilting back and the odd blend of gravity and weightlessness as the wheels left the tarmac—everything combined to rob her of the power of speech. She'd never been a good flyer. However, her usual nerves and motion sickness didn't stand a chance this time. It was hard to be nervous when held so firmly against a strong male chest. 147


As soon as she felt the plane level off, a voice came over the speakers to announce that cruising altitude had been reached, and there would be clear flying to Montgermane. When Stephan unfastened the seat belt she sat back and stared at him. "You're what?" "Kidnapping you. You already admitted that you wished we could spend more time together. Now we can." "But what about my family? My job?" She thought his satisfied grin, when he handed her his cell phone, was a bit too juvenile. Grabbing the device from him, she surged to her feet and walked a few paces away. "Justin, let me speak to Papa. Hello, Papa. You'll never believe ... oh. I see. Yes, it was very clever of him. But at this moment I'm ... well, no, I haven't had a vacation in a long while, this is true but ... I see. Well, then, I guess I will see you in a week." Sophie closed the phone and shook her head. "My father, it seems, knew it was you who 'spirited me off', and thinks an impromptu vacation is a splendid idea. He has apparently already contacted my assistant at the Children's Home. I'm not to worry about a thing, just have a good time." "Sweetheart, you don't have to sound so disappointed." Sophie looked over at him. He made her mouth water, heated her blood, and sparked her temper all at the same time. She could no sooner erect her usual walls against him than she could fly to Montgermane without a plane. And he was going to be all hers for the next week. 148


Sophie realized that he was making fun of her with that last statement. Frankly, she couldn't blame him. "I'm not disappointed." To prove it she went over to him and sat on his lap. "Tell me about your chalet." "I had it built about five years ago, when I came into my inheritance from my maternal grandfather. It's my refuge. My parents and brother have seen it, of course. I've never brought anyone else there. Until now." The dip in his voice with those last two words triggered an alarm within her. If she didn't know better, she would have said that sentiment was romantic. She tossed off the idea and relaxed. He was the playboy prince. He was adept, she was certain, at making a woman feel like she was the only woman in his life. It was likely so ingrained in him, he didn't even realize he was doing it. If a lie was called for, well, then she was certain he would lie. Just a tiny white lie designed to make her feel good. And she accepted that, accepted him. He suited her. Besides, there could be no romance between them, for she was set on her course. But there could be lust. There could be honest, mutual pleasure. There could be a friendship when their interlude together was complete. Given time, she could probably extend that friendship to whatever woman he eventually married. Ignoring the burning in her belly that thought caused, she told herself to count her blessings. A week with Stephan was more than she'd ever thought she would have with any man.

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Deciding to take his words at face value, she placed a light kiss on his lips. "Thank you, then, for sharing your sanctuary with me." "You're welcome." Sophie gave in to the persuasion of his hands, and snuggled into his chest. As his hands stroked down her back, a sudden thought made her rear back to look at him. "Mon Dieu. I just realized! I have no clothes except what I'm wearing!" "This is not a problem." "It's not?" Could he have been so thoughtful as to have requested a suitcase packed for her? She hoped so. There was no way in hell she'd wear the castoffs of another of his women. "No, it's not, because I'm planning for us to spend most of the next week naked." **** It was good to be home. Stephan lived in a wing of his family's ancestral residence, but his chalet was home, and had been since that first treasured weeklong vacation. Looking up at his stone and glass sanctuary with Sophie standing beside him felt incredibly right. Determined not to dwell too long on that feeling, he turned his attention to her instead. He did want her to like his chalet. How much he wanted her to like it was a surprise to him. He'd told her nothing but the truth. Outside of his family, she was his first guest here. 150


"It's beautiful. Oh, and the air is so different here than at home. It's clean and crisp, and I can smell the trees!" The tone of excitement in her voice made him smile. "It's a bit cooler than Cardinia, or even Korvan. But we're still in summer, even here in the mountains. The temperature will dip down at night. If you go outside you'll need a jacket. But the middle of the day is warm enough, and sometimes even hot. If you like, we'll go for a walk before the sun sets." "Yes, thank you. I think I would like that." "Come, I want to show you the inside." Winding his fingers through hers, he guided her up the short flight of stone steps. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a set of keys. This moment always thrilled him. Any time he'd arrive at the palace in Korvan, the door always opened for him. Here, no one opened the door but him. He caught the expression on Sophie's face and chuckled. "Where is your major domo?" "I don't have a major domo." He waited with his hand on the door knob because he knew she wasn't quite finished. "Well, I suppose the chalet is a bit small for a full staff. But surely there's a housekeeper?" Stephan tried not to laugh as her curiosity was replaced by confusion. "No, sorry," he answered cheerfully. "No housekeeper." "A maid? A cook? You can't be out here in the wilds of Montgermane all alone. You're a crown prince." Her tone was so totally reasonable, he suspected she was about to receive the biggest shock of her life. But since she 151


was still acting the role of princess, he decided to respond just as reasonably. "Yes, you're right. And I'm not really alone, not ever. Beyond where you can see, in those woods, there is a barracks. There are security personnel on duty around the clock. The property is quite secure, I assure you." "But what about inside?" "Inside, there is no one. At least not until we cross the threshold, then there will be just you and me." Pushing the door open all the way, he turned and scooped Sophie up into his arms. Her squeal of surprise triggered his laughter. He stepped into the house, spun them in a circle, and kicked the door shut with his foot. "Stephan, you maniac, set me down!" He did, but kept his arms around her, laughing down into her upturned face. "If there is no one but us here, who is going to cook and clean and ... take care of us?" "That's the best part, darling. We are." [Back to Table of Contents]

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Chapter 15 "We are? You and me? All by ourselves?" Sophie was having a hard time grasping the concept. It didn't help her concentration that Stephan was grinning like a schoolboy on the first day of summer vacation. She put her hands on her hips when he made a show of looking around the large room they were in. "I believe there are only the two of us in the building. So ... yes." She took a moment to mimic his gesture of looking around the room. It was unlike anything she'd ever seen. Stone and polished wood, impossibly high ceilings and what seemed like miles of gleaming glass. There were two big leather chairs and a long, wide leather sofa that looked more comfortable than her bed. And there, just against the far wall, an enormous fireplace waited in chilled silence. Then Stephan's assertion came back to her and she turned to face him. "I'm sorry to be the wet blanket here, but you need to know. I cannot cook. Or do laundry. Now, Papa had us tidying our rooms at the farm when we would go there for summer vacation, but that was merely a matter of putting our dirty clothes in a hamper and straightening our beds. And the truth is that I only pulled my blankets up each morning, rather poorly as I recall, yet the bed seemed perfectly made each evening." "Sophie, none of that matters." 153


"It doesn't?" Oh, now there was a very mischievous look on his face. He took one step toward her, but she didn't feel threatened. When he reached out to caress her cheek, she couldn't help her response. Turning her face into his hand, her blood heated at the same instant his expression turned carnal. "No, it doesn't. Because you can do something no one else has ever managed to do." Sophie sensed Stephan's emotions were about to overrun his libido. She couldn't let that happen. So she did the only thing she could think of to distract him. How convenient that it's also what I want most in the world to do. She closed the distance between them with a single step. Slowly, her gaze never leaving his, she wound her arms around his neck, brought her body flush with his. "Kiss me. Touch me. It feels like forever since you've had your hands on me." "Sophie." His kiss was swift and lusty and deep. She lost herself in the glorious flavor of him, in the wondrous sensation of heat and excitement that filled her as his hands caressed her bottom. When he lifted her, she simply wrapped her legs around him. Oh, how had she lived all her life before him without this fire, this passion? He had only to look at her and she quickened. He had only to touch her and she burned. Her tongue swept and stroked his, and she drank him in. Her hands craved the silkiness of his hair, her fingers combed and caressed the strands, and this, too, aroused her. Vaguely, she 154


was aware that he carried her up a flight of stairs, but she didn't care. When he laid her flat, when he pressed her into the mattress, she needed more, and she needed it now. "Please. Please," she begged, totally incapable of putting into words what she craved. But he knew, of course he knew. His hands stripped her of her clothing, just as this burning need for him stripped her of all civilization. Uncaring, she grabbed his shirt and pulled. Buttons flew, and her hands found flesh. "Here, let me." He raised himself away from her and she whimpered. Then she sighed as he tossed off his clothes, each economical motion revealing more scrumptious masculine flesh. She hadn't really paid attention that first time, hadn't fully allowed herself the pure visual pleasure of looking at his naked body. She looked now. His penis was hard, standing nearly straight up, and she wondered anew that something so large could fit inside her so well, and give her such joy. "My God, little one, you inflame me with only your eyes." Her gaze was drawn to his face. His expression looked pained. The thought that Stephan could be hurting in any way created a pang in her chest. She didn't want to think about that, so she reached for him. He caught her hand and brought it to his lips, kissed it. Passion and purpose in his eyes, he reached over to the bedside table, pulled open a drawer. Fascinated, she watched as he tore open the small foil package and rolled the thin latex into place. Then he was 155


lowering himself over her, making a place for himself between her thighs. She couldn't wait another moment. She wrapped her arms around him, reveling in the heat and the weight of him as his chest crushed her breasts, his taut stomach pressing against her softer belly like a missing puzzle piece. Mouth open, she met his kiss, sank into it. His tongue excited as it delved and danced with hers. His taste was like no other, feeding and teasing at the same time. Yes, she wanted this, his hard hot flesh on hers, his hands petting and caressing, his fingers pinching and rubbing and sliding inside of her. Her hips shot off the bed as his fingers explored her depths. Wave after sweeping, trembling wave of rapture cascaded through her until she didn't know if she could take any more. Just as the shivery-pulsating pleasure began to ebb, Stephan shifted his hips and thrust into her. **** He had to close his eyes and use all of his will not to come there and then. It felt like years since he'd been right here, nestled between Sophie's silky thighs, deep inside her body. She fit him as if she'd been made for him. He didn't care if it was barbaric, the idea that only he had been inside her thrilled him. He felt the velvet clasp of her intimate flesh tighten around him in another rhythmic shiver, heard her cry of pleased surprise as she came again, arousing him even more. "Yes, come on me, little one," he whispered hoarsely into her ear, unable to resist nibbling lightly on her lobe. "Just like that." 156


"Stephan!" He slid an arm under her and held her close while he began to thrust hard. He'd wanted to take his time, but had known it would be like this. Only the solid knowledge that they had an entire week alone together allowed him the freedom to let go, to take her the way he longed to take her, to claim her the way a man claims his woman. "Give me your mouth!" He heard the desperation in his own voice and didn't care, plundering her lips when she instantly obeyed. He wanted to be joined to her in every way possible. Her absolute surrender, to the passion, to him, pushed him over the edge of reason. His orgasm exploded out of him, ripping every shred of energy from his body, flooding into her and leaving him helpless to do anything but hang on to her and come. After what seemed like a lifetime he collapsed on her and concentrated on breathing. Her arms around him, her contented sigh, told him he hadn't hurt her. But he was heavy, and didn't want to smash her into the bed. He grunted and started to move. Sophie clutched his shoulders. "Don't go." "No, I won't. But I'm too heavy. Come here." He rolled onto his side and took her with him. He was still inside her but knew that wouldn't last long. He should excuse himself and get cleaned up. He really didn't want to move. "It's better in a bed than on the grass." Sophie's purring observation made him laugh. Delighted, he pulled her even closer and kissed her forehead. "So it is. If 157


we're to do a comparative study, though, it seems to me there are many more places we should try." "There are?" The two words reminded him of her innocence. Once again the reality of being her first lover filled him with primal male pride. "Oh, indeed there are. On the sofa, on the dining room table, in the shower ... mmm, and the hot tub too. It's a very good thing that we have an entire week for this personal journey of discovery." "If we're going to be making love all week, somebody had better feed us." He moved so that he could look down at her. Brushing strands of the hair away from her face, he placed a gentle kiss on her lips. "You do not wish to just live on love for the next week?" And he caught that fleeting expression that told him he'd ventured too close to a boundary. He didn't know everything about the sadness she carried, but he suspected its source. There was a remoteness to Sophie that had earned her the nickname of Ice Princess, but he knew now it wasn't the reflection of an inner chill. It was, he decided, a protective wall. Stephan was very aware of the irony. Over the last few years he'd been cautious when selecting his lovers. He tried to make sure the ground rules were understood before the clothes came off. Mutual pleasure, yes. Love and commitment, no. Whenever a woman gave any sign that she 158


felt their relationship was moving out of the physical and into the emotional, he ended the affair. The look he had just seen ghost across Sophie's face, he was certain, exactly mimicked the one he wore at such times. He should have known that when he finally fell in love, it wouldn't be easy. "How can sex provide nourishment?" Sophie's question was a fair attempt at changing the tone of their conversation. He'd allow it for now. But before the week was out, he'd bring her around to a serious discussion about love and marriage. "Ah, little one, there is much I'm going to teach you about the many and varied ways to indulge in pleasure and nourishment. But for now, we'll opt for food." **** The only kitchens she had ever been in were at the palace and the farm. The kitchen in Stephan's chalet was small, similar to the one at the farm yet not the same at all. It contained counters and cupboards, a double sink, a fridge and a stove. There was even a counter in the center of the room. She liked the colors. The cabinets were a soft maple, and the countertops reminded her of the grey marble in the formal salon at home. Most impressive, though, was the man, shirtless, who moved with purpose from cabinet to fridge to stove, seemingly totally at ease not only with his partial nudity but also with his surroundings. 159


He wore no shirt because it was on her. Looking down, she thought that it almost made a mini-dress. Her feet were bare, and she didn't think she'd been bare foot anywhere outside her own bedroom or the beach. Stephan took out a machine the like of which Sophie had never seen before. When he pulled a can out of the freezer, she understood at once that this was a coffee maker. Curious, she went over and watched as he opened the machine, put some paper in it, then put brown grains on the paper. He put water in the carafe then poured that into the machine. When he had placed the carafe on a round stand in the middle of the machine, he touched a button on the base. Almost instantly, the aroma of fresh coffee filled the air. "Amazing! How did you know how to do that?" He hadn't performed the chore with great care, as if having to recall how to do it. Instead, his actions had seemed smooth and practiced. "I only made a pot of coffee, Sophie." When she continued to just look at him, he chuckled. "I went to a university in the United States for two years. In my second year, I was determined that I was going to learn more than just what the professors had to teach. Rather than staying in standard student housing, I rented an apartment and took on a roommate. He taught me how to make coffee, prepare some simple meals, basically, how to take care of myself. I enjoyed it. I felt empowered to do these things. What I also found empowering was the relative privacy. For the first time in my life, I was alone." "What about security?" 160


"Oh, I had a couple of men assigned to me. But they kept their distance. Here, too. There is a security team billeted in the woods, and access to my chalet is restricted. But they have no eyes or ears in here. That's liberating." His explanation made Sophie feel a bit envious. "Except when I have been in my rooms at home, I've never been alone. I can recall times, when I was a child, when I thought that I had eluded everyone and simply been alone. But Nanny Celeste would always know where I was and what I was doing." The words had come unexpectedly. She quickly looked up at Stephan. Instead of the bored or disinterested expression she'd been expecting, he seemed riveted. "I take it Nanny Celeste didn't approve of your attempt to gain some personal space?" "No. A princess is a princess always, for every waking moment, and every sleeping moment too. And at every moment, a princess must behave with protocol and propriety." Even to her own ears the words sounded like something she'd learned by rote. Well, she had. They were a condensed version of her old caretaker's lectures. "Is that right?" There was that mischievous twinkle in Stephan's eyes again. The sight of it chased away the chill that had descended as she's recited that long ago mantra. Just like that he'd dispatched the power of the memory, leaving only the shell of it—the ridiculous, wretched shell of it—behind. "Yes, that is so. The gospel according to Nanny Celeste."

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"Well, it's a good thing that Nanny Celeste is nowhere in sight, little one. Because before this night is through, protocol and propriety will both have been tossed out the window." Of all the plans and agendas Sophie had been privy to in her life, she thought that Stephan's, for this evening, was the best she'd ever heard. [Back to Table of Contents]

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Chapter 16 He wanted to impress her. That was another new experience, one that felt better than he would have thought. There was a high efficiency freezer in the larder, stocked with easy to prepare foods, and a microwave on the counter. Instead, he took steaks out to defrost. "You're going to cook for me?" Her question, tinged with awe, made him smile. "I am. We'll have the steaks for dinner tonight. But in the mean time, I believe you said you were hungry." The heated look that came into her eyes then almost had him saying 'to hell with lunch' and taking her back to bed. "I am. I was so nervous about the tournament that I couldn't eat much breakfast." "Then let's make some sandwiches." He took everything they would need out of the fridge, setting the items on the butcher block in the center of the kitchen. He got down two plates from the cupboard, and two butter knives from the drawer. He handed her one knife, one plate, and then the loaf of bread. "Now this, I can do." Stephan watched how carefully she spread mustard on her bread before choosing a single slice of meat to go on it. Then she carefully put her creation together, and cut the sandwich in half. She looked completely pleased with herself. "That's it? Just one thin slice of meat?" 163


"I think it's enough" Sophie said defensively. Shaking his head, he poured them each a cup of coffee, then he began to construct one of what he thought of as his 'vacation sandwiches'. He was very aware of Sophie's wideeyed stare as he kept adding layers to the small stack. "My roommate used to make enormous sandwiches that more often appeared a work of art than something one would eat. At home, during high tea, our chef takes great pride in presenting very thin and, I have to admit, very tasty snacks. Here, I indulge my inner child." "You will never get your mouth around that thing." "That's the fun of it. And you'd be surprised what my mouth can do." He sent her a lascivious grin. She blushed, delighting him. He knew she used her food as a defense when she picked up a half sandwich and began to eat. **** Sophie had never been in someone's private home before. As Stephan took her from room to room after lunch, she realized that's what the chalet was to him. His private home. She'd enjoyed his company over the last few days, and had thought she'd come to know him fairly well. She would have said that despite being a crown prince, he was an easy-going man. But she noticed the difference in him here. Here, where no eyes but hers watched, he was even more relaxed and playful. He showed her his office, which was down the hall from the main sitting room. 164


"I have computer and phone, fax and photocopier. Everything I need to stay in touch, if I am needed. I know that at any given time, father could call, and my time alone here can be cut short. But I don't dwell on that." Then he shot her a smile, grabbed her hand, and placed it on the glass of the copier. He pressed a button and the machine came to life. "Close your eyes, the light will be bright." She did, noting the light was bright even with her eyes closed. Her hand felt the warmth of it. "Here." He gave her the piece of paper that had come out of the machine, a piece of paper that had a picture of her hand on it. "Look at that!" she couldn't keep back her giggle. "Keep it. Then someday if someone asks you to give them a hand, you can give them that." He backed her up against the wall and said, "Now you have to pay for the tour of this private home." "I have to pay? Alas, I cannot. I was spirited away from my home with no money, not even a shirt for my own back." "How fortunate for you the coin of this realm isn't lucre." His mouth was hot and tasted of coffee, and as she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back, her knees went weak. He held her tight, and she revelled in not only his flavor, but in the security of being kept close. His hair was soft and silky through her fingers, and Sophie knew she'd never felt anything so good or so right as being kissed by him. 165


"That will do as a down payment. I need to take you now to my favorite place. It's just down the hall. Come." "We have a Jacuzzi at home," she said as she looked around the glass-enclosed room, "but it is not as large as this one." "I realized at the time I chose this I was overcompensating. One of my small rebellions against having been born into a predetermined life. Though I've been most fortunate, really. Mother and Father both took pains when we were children to spend time with us. Family time, they called it, when it was mostly just the four of us." "We didn't really have that until after my mother died." "I don't remember Queen Liana that well, little one, but I do remember thinking that she seemed ... untouchable." Sophie understood that Stephan was again trying to take their relationship to a more personal level. She couldn't give him the kind of commitment a normal woman might, but in conversation, at least, she could give him intimacy. "She was. She never hugged me. She never saw the need, and although I never tried, I always sensed that if I had ever thrown my arms around her, she would have recoiled." "Some people show their love in different ways, Sophie. It doesn't mean they don't feel the emotion." "That's what Hannah said." Thinking about her new stepmother lifted her spirits, and she turned to Stephan. "Now there's a lady who invites hugs." "So do you."

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Before she could disabuse him of that notion, his arms were around her, pulling her flush against him. It was easy to slide her hands up his chest to slink around his neck. "It's not me, it's you." When Stephan held her, she felt safe, cherished and connected. He stirred her senses and heated her blood until she felt like she was melting inside. Until him, these were feelings she'd never experienced, so she knew the source of them had to be him. There was no reason to resist the temptation that washed through her, so she didn't. Rising up on her toes, she kissed him. The firestorm ignited again, and Sophie let it take her. With tongue and lips and teeth she set out to consume him completely. His groans, and the clutching and caressing of his hands fuelled her need. Leaving his lips, she sampled the flavor of his neck and chest. Pleased, she noticed that his nipples peaked just like hers did when suckled. The reaction spurred her on. Nuzzling his chest, the light dusting of hair there caressed like the finest velvet. His taste was different here than in his kiss. Salty and rich, she discovered a flavor she'd been missing all her life. She wanted more. She wanted every scrap of him she could have. Easing to her knees, she fumbled at the opening of his pants, unbuttoning and then unzipping them with trembling fingers. And when his penis sprang free, she captured it in her hand. Instinct guided her as she used her tongue in a long, questing lick. Then she opened her mouth and took him in. 167


His cock was hard, yet the skin was soft and smooth and tasted good. And hot, it was so hot. As she moved her mouth on him, sliding him in and out, she played her tongue along his length, sucking lightly. "My God!" His epithet told her he liked her mouth on him. Nothing was more important in that moment but that she please him. He'd given her so much more than she'd ever thought to know. When she was with him like this, when she was kissing him, touching him, when he had his hands flexing in her hair or reaching down her back to pull the shirt she wore off her, she felt free. Free and alive and powerful in a way she would have sworn was beyond her reach. "Enough!" Oh, his hands were strong as he whipped his shirt off her. She felt his trembling as he urged her onto her back on the floor, followed her down and loomed over her. "No one has ever made me lose control as you have done. You drive me out of my mind with pleasure. Now, it is my turn." When he slipped down her body, she had no idea what he was about to do. Then he hooked his hands under her knees, lifted and spread her legs, and settled between them with his head nearly even with her mons. The first touch of his tongue on her soft folds was electrifying. A cry escaped her lips, her hips jerked toward him. Hard hands pressed her down, holding her still for him and she couldn't escape the thrilling assault. Every nerve ending in her body quivered, and the only way she could stay 168


connected to the earth was to anchor her hands in Stephan's hair. Wild, on fire, she writhed and arched and reached for ecstasy. When it hit, when her orgasm exploded sending her spiraling into rapture, it was more than she'd ever known, more than should have been possible. Vaguely she was aware that Stephan had pushed himself up. She heard sounds, and knew he was tossing off his pants. When she opened her eyes, she watched him, naked, fierce and beautiful, tearing into a small packet he'd produced as if by magic, then rolling the protection into place. She reached for him, and he came to her, came over and into her in one fluid movement. Sighing in pleasure, she wrapped herself around him and let go. **** He knew he was being rough again but he couldn't stop himself. The need to take, to possess was primitive and shocking. She was his. Knowing she would protest that sentiment, knowing she would likely flee if she knew he felt that way changed nothing. His tongue and lips plundered hers. Giving her back her own ambrosia this way thrilled him. His arousal reached a fever pitch when she wrapped herself around him even more tightly and gave him everything. His need to have her closer, to have them merge from two into one was a need he didn't know existed until now. She was more than just a woman he was pleasuring, who pleasured him in return, even more than the woman he loved. She was his mate. 169


His release erupted, volcanic and devastating. He could only clutch her tight, holding her steady for his plunging hips. An answering shiver and he knew she joined him. The convulsing of her flesh around his was the most wonderfully erotic thing he'd ever felt. His heart hammered so hard he thought it might burst from his chest. When it was over, it took him long moments to regain his balance and his breath. He realized Sophie's hands were caressing his back slowly and he thought it a tender and loving act she was likely not even aware she was doing. "That is not exactly what I had planned to do," he whispered into her ear. Levering himself up on unsteady arms, he looked down at her flushed and relaxed face. "Must have been. You had a condom." "In my pocket, yes. Actually there are a few more there. You're so damn sensuous and seductive, so wonderfully responsive, I've been making sure I have several close at hand since the first time I made you come in the closet." He could see she was analyzing his words, and he deliberately distracted her by bending down and kissing her. "My plan was to make love to you while we were in the hot tub." Sophie turned her head to glance at the appliance. "It's still there," she said, smiling. "So it is. I'll turn it on. You hop in, and after I clean myself up, I'll join you." "I don't know if I can hop, but I might manage a crawl."

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Laughing, Stephan kissed her again, then forced himself to get up. As he withdrew from her body, cooler air surrounded him and made him shiver. He looked down and swore. "What's wrong?" He supposed he could have hidden the truth, but he didn't think Sophie would appreciate that. "The condom broke." The significance of that took a moment to sink in. When Sophie's eyes widened, he pulled her to her feet, and kissed her quickly. "Don't worry, little one. Everything will be all right." He could tell his words didn't reassure her. "Don't worry? Easy for you to say, you're a man. Let me think ... oh my God. This may be the wrong time, Stephan. I could be pregnant!" "Sophie." Real panic was etched on her face. She took a step away, and it was more than obvious she was trying to put emotional distance between them as well as the physical. He wouldn't let her withdraw. He'd wanted to wait. A man only found his soul mate once in a lifetime, and he was entitled to set the scene, to choose the perfect moment to reveal his heart and his intentions. Unfortunately, that moment had to be now. He sensed if he let it slip through his fingers, she would, too. "It would not be a problem if you were pregnant, sweetheart. It would only mean moving faster than I would have liked, that's all." "Moving faster? I don't understand you. What are you talking about?" 171


He took advantage of her bewilderment to move her back into his arms. Stroking her cheek gently with one finger, he offered her what he knew probably looked like a silly grin. "It must be obvious to you how perfect we are together. I have only to touch you and you melt. You have only to touch me and I burn. I know that I am your first lover. I also know that I will be your only, and your last, as you will be mine. I want you as my wife, my princess. And, one day, my queen. I love you Sophie, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you." For one long moment she stood frozen before him. When she finally reacted, her response wasn't at all what he'd expected. Pulling away from him, her expression hard, she said, "No. This was never supposed to happen. I promised myself this would never happen. I won't have your child! I won't have anyone's!" [Back to Table of Contents]

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Chapter 17 "Sophie, open the door!" The bathroom door shook as Stephan pounded on it. "No! Go away. Leave me alone!" Sophie knew she was being childish, hiding behind a locked door. But she couldn't help it. Fleeing had been an instinctive reaction. How could she have guessed this would happen? She'd never been with a man before him. She had feelings for him, more, she knew, than a simple affair could justify. She'd been willing to deal with the heartache that would be inevitable when he finally tired of her and moved on. Instead he'd said he loved her and wanted to marry her. How could that have happened? For one shimmering moment, the reality that he loved her and wanted her to have his child sparkled and warmed inside her. Then, shaking her head, she pushed the notion away. She could never return his love, never be the kind of wife he needed and deserved. "Sophie! Open the door. We need to talk." "I do not want to talk to you. Please, just go away and leave me alone!" Sophie backed away from the door that continued to rattle and shake. She bumped up against a wall, and she found herself standing in a corner made by the wall and the glass enclosure for the shower. Her thoughts, jagged, kept circling around the one thing she always feared, the one thing she'd sworn to avoid. 173


She knew the kind of wife and mother she would turn into if Stephan married her. The kind her own mother had been. She couldn't bear to imagine the life Stephan would be sentencing himself to as her husband. She'd been old enough to understand that her parent's marriage had at some point turned into a loveless prison. She recalled how her father had tried, time and again, to reach out to his wife, the kindness and gentleness with which he'd treated her—only to fail, time and again. She'd watch him when he didn't know she was there, and she could almost see the sadness and loneliness swallowing him. Until Hannah had come into his life, he'd never smiled with his whole heart. She would never subject a warm and compassionate man like Stephan to such a barren existence. She would never subject a child to the kind of cold and uncaring mother her own had been. As her thoughts continued to spiral back she recalled how, each day, she would have an audience with her mother, where she was expected to account for her time with a list of worthy accomplishments. No hugs and laughter for her, as she'd witnessed between Hannah and Catharine. All these years later, she could still hear her mother's voice, that emotionless, clear diction. "Sophie, your tutor tells me that you are gifted in mathematics. This will not be an asset to you later in life. I have therefore instructed Monsieur Dion to forego that subject. Your needlework continues to be poor. You'll spend that extra hour each day with your nanny in pursuit of that worthy craft, instead." 174


"But Maman, I enjoy very much my mathematics." "You continue to disappoint me, Sophie. You are my mirror image, and you will become like me in every regard. You will be the most beautiful and accomplished of princesses. You will eventually come to understand your sole purpose in life is to do your duty. You will be found the most suitable of matches. When you are married, you will submit to your husband in the marriage bed, and perform your duty by producing an heir. Smaller families are becoming more fashionable, so you may be spared having to bring forth a litter, as I had to do. And when you have performed your duty, then you may look forward to the respect of your husband and the servitude of others." Sophie shook from the memory. She recalled one of the last audiences, when her mother had shown her photographs of the men that were being considered as matrimonial candidates for Sophie's hand. Her mother informed her that a contract was imminent. Of the seven pictures, four had been of men old enough to be her father, and the other three were young boys, one still in diapers. Sophie had been eleven. At the time, she'd had no interest in thinking about one day getting married. "Do not worry, you shall have the best match possible. That is my duty to you, and I always do my duty. You will have a life of privilege and produce issue of pedigree. That is your duty—to me, and to your husband. You are my daughter, my mirror image, and you will obey." By then Sophie had come to see how very much like her mother she really was. She'd learned to respond to her 175


mother's tone and bearing in kind. But she never came to embrace the picture of her destiny as her mother had framed it. It was beyond bleak. After Liana's death, Sophie had made a bold decision. The only way to avoid the horror of the future planned for her was to never marry, never have a child. She would lead a solitary life. No one would make her do what she had no wish to do. Single, solitary, she could never be her mother. The pounding and rattling of the bathroom door stopped, and Sophie blinked, brought back to the present. In the next instant, she shrieked as wood splintered, and the door sprang open. Surprise quickly morphed into outrage. "What is the matter with you? Did you not hear me? I told you to leave me alone!" Stephan took one step closer, looming over her. "I heard you perfectly, Sophie. I heard you tell me you wouldn't have my child. Well, I have news for you, Your Royal Highness. You may not have a choice. What do you plan to do if you are already pregnant? Get rid of it?" Shock rippled through Sophie's body. Get rid of it? The idea had never, would never occur to her. "No! No, of course not!" My God, he's right. Reality finally sank in. I really could already be pregnant. She wrapped her arms around her middle, her first instinct to protect the life that might very well be growing within her. When Stephan scooped her up, she automatically struggled. "What the hell are you doing? Put me down!"

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"Be still." He managed to give her a small shake without losing his stride. "I am bringing you to a more comfortable place, where we can talk." "Talk won't change anything," she whispered. She was suddenly exhausted. Sadness flooded her, drowning all the other emotions that had roiled through her in the last half hour. She cared for Stephan a great deal, and was very sorry that he was going to be hurt. But she could see no way around it. His answer to her statement was an equally softly whispered, "We'll see." **** "You can let me go. I promise I won't storm off again." "I know you won't, little one. But I happen to enjoy holding you in my arms and on my lap. Especially now as the hot water is soothing you and you're becoming more pliant." "Only my muscles are pliant, Stephan. My resolve is strong." The rage and fear he'd felt when she'd locked herself in the bathroom was gone. Now, he simply ached for Sophie, who was so obviously suffering from what her mother had done to her. He placed a kiss on top of her head, and simply held her for a moment. He'd certainly had enough clues in the past couple of weeks that Sophie's recent outburst shouldn't have surprised him. He'd known she carried a melancholy deep within her. She'd told him just before he'd made love to her the first time that she believed herself to be a cold and 177


unfeeling woman. He'd thought simply by loving her he'd put those fears to rest. Now he saw that he'd been wrong. He never could have guessed the depth of the self doubt and misconceptions she'd been carrying around with her for most of her life. He'd asked her to explain why she'd said she wouldn't have his child. Now, as her answer settled in his thoughts, he tried to find the right words to ease her. "There is no question that in physical appearance, you do closely resemble your mother, Sophie. But I do not believe that resemblance goes as deep as you think it does." "I've been stiff and uncomfortable around people all my life. How else do you think I earned that nickname, 'the ice princess'?" "From some imbecile who didn't know you at all, and it was perpetuated by others who find it easier to repeat garbage than to think." "Stephan—" "Are you uncomfortable at home with your family?" "No, of course not." "What about at work? There are all sorts of people with whom you interact every day at the Children's Home. Do you insist they go about their business and leave you alone? I've seen you spend time with the children and the other teachers. You did not appear stiff and uncomfortable there at all." "I'm not. You've just cited the only two places I ever feel at ease. Whenever there is an official event and I am required to attend, to mingle, I freeze up. I not only hold myself 178


back—I can't help it—I wish I was somewhere, anywhere else." "That just means you're shy with strangers and don't like to be in crowds of them. There's nothing wrong with that, Sophie. And if you wanted to, in time, you could overcome it. Sophie, I've watched you with your family and with the children who are in your care. You're a warm and caring woman. I've held you in my arms and watched you come apart with just my touch. There is nothing cold about you at all, sweetheart." "That's just sex." Stephan wasn't surprised that Sophie had latched on to the last part of his observation. The belief that she would become like her mother had been with her since childhood. His chest tightened as he realized he might not have the words needed to show Sophie that she could be all she longed to be. He believed that deep down she longed to have a baby of her own. His baby. Stroking a hand down her arm, he cupped her face and tilted it so he could place a chaste kiss on her lips. "No, sweetheart. That wasn't just sex. That was love. In case you didn't hear me earlier, I love you. And Sophie, I think you love me, too." "Stephan..." "Can you deny it?" "I don't know! I am not trying to hurt you. I would give anything not to hurt you. I do care for you, Stephan. No one has ever made me feel the way you do. Not just the sex. I mean ... when you hold me, I feel as if nothing can harm me. 179


I feel safe. But is that love? And even if it is, how do I know that I won't become like my mother? I have heard it said that a leopard does not change its spots. And I do not think that a person can change their basic nature, either. So you tell me. How can I avoid becoming like her?" It was a question that Stephan couldn't answer, not really. Even though he doubted very much that Sophie's deepest fear would ever come to fruition, even though he knew that people rarely changed their natures, he wasn't, he realized, the man who could answer her question, the one who could convince her. Only one man could. "Sweetheart, have you ever spoken about your feelings with your papa?" Her eyes widened, and though she did not blush, he could tell that the thought of discussing her fears with Alex made her very uncomfortable. "Oh no, I couldn't! I'd be ... I'd be embarrassed. Ashamed. He always speaks so highly of Maman. I have never, ever heard him say a word against her. Even though in the last few years before she died, he was unhappy, I think he must have loved her very much." She was literally shaking in his arms. "He loves you too, Sophie. You should think about talking to him." **** Stephan didn't understand her fears. How could he? 180


The sound of his breathing, deep and even, told her he slept. They had made love again despite the fact that nothing had been resolved between them. It was irritating to realize that she had no will when it came to resisting the man, physically. He touched her, she melted. If she wasn't careful, he'd have her standing at the altar before she knew what had happened. Hadn't he already proved agile at getting her to do whatever he wanted her to do? Everything he'd wanted, so far, had been what she wanted too. But she couldn't let him maneuver her into marriage. She loved him too much to saddle him with such a bleak future. Sophie closed her eyes as the truth washed through her. She did love him. And because she did, she really had no choice in what she had to do next. Moving carefully, she slid out from under the blankets. She gathered up his shirt and the jeans he'd given her to wear. The pants belonged to his younger brother and were only a little too big. It took her only moments to dress. She didn't bother to turn on any lights as she made her way downstairs, then outside. The predawn air was cold, and Sophie wished she'd taken the time to grab a sweater. Rubbing her arms, she walked over to the jeep Stephan had driven from the small airfield. The keys were still in the vehicle, but she wasn't certain she could find her way in the dark. A sound alerted her, and she turned. Two men had left the cover of the woods and were making their way across the meadow toward her. The moon peeked out from behind the clouds 181


providing enough light for her to see that they wore military uniforms. Sophie relaxed. She wouldn't need to find her own way. Stephan's security team would help her. She wasn't running away, she told the tiny voice whispering in her head. She was simply doing what had to be done. It was kinder to end this affair now than to let it drag on any longer. And if I really am pregnant? Sophie pushed the possibility away. There had only been that one time. Michael and Helene had been trying for months to get pregnant, and it hadn't happened for them yet. Likely, it wouldn't have happened for her either. It was time for Sophie to do what she should have done right from the beginning. It was time for her to put Stephan Benet out of her thoughts. It was time for her to go back to where she belonged. [Back to Table of Contents]

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Chapter 18 Did she think she could run and he wouldn't follow? Did she think anything could keep him from her? Stephan eyed the men who stood, arms folded across their chests, barring his way. They weren't in uniform, but he knew soldiers when he saw them. They'd taken up their positions not five feet from the stairs of his plane, forming a solid semicircular wall. The screech of tires made him look up. A Mercedes had sped onto the airfield and jerked to a stop not twenty feet from his plane. Almost before the car stopped moving, the driver's door sprang open and a tall, lean man got out. Stephan whipped off his sunglasses. "Call off your dogs, Peter." "Careful, Your Highness." Peter Jones looked as formidable as his men. "These fine gentlemen were assigned as security at the Princess Royal's tournament a couple of days ago and are already unhappy with you." "Not nearly as unhappy as I am right now, I can assure you. I intend to go and see the Princess Royal. Neither these men, nor you, are going to stop me." Unhappy wasn't the word to describe how he'd felt yesterday morning when he awoke to an empty house. To fall asleep with the woman he loved tucked snugly in his arms only to wake up alone had hurt. How could she have just left him like that, without a word? He'd been so certain as he'd made slow and gentle love to her in the hot tub, then later in 183


his bed, that everything was going to be fine. It would only take time, he thought, and they had plenty of time. Even if it turned out she was carrying his child. God, he hoped it was so. Not only because then he was reasonably certain she would have no choice but to marry him. But because the idea of having a child with Sophie was the most thrilling thing he could imagine. With no trouble at all he could envision the future. There'd be a little girl with her elfin smile, and a little boy with her eyes and maybe his spirit. What could be more wondrous, more joyful than that? It never occurred to him that she would flee. He'd nearly torn a strip off his security detail for seeing her safely home. Fortunately he remembered in time that this was the twentyfirst century and he couldn't really kidnap the Princess Royal of another nation. Still, he'd been well and truly pissed, and found that emotion had an energy all its own. "What the hell did you do to her, Stephan?" Peter demanded. "She's practically been a zombie since she came home yesterday morning. She won't tell anyone what's wrong. Everyone is worried and walking on egg shells around her." Stephan felt his heart lurch. He hated the thought that Sophie was so miserable. At the same time he wanted to shake her. Why was she putting herself through this? How could she not see the truth? "What is between us is private." "Fuck that. There is no privacy in families, Your Highness." "If that were true, Sophie and I would not be in this position now." He waited, but Peter showed no sign of relenting. 184


He sighed, and the anger that had been carrying him since he'd awoken alone the day before deflated. "I didn't do anything but tell her that I love her and ask her to marry me." Something softened in Peter's expression. "And her response was to run away? Man, that's got to hurt." "You could say that it wasn't pleasant to wake up and find her gone." It didn't appear to him as if the honor guard that had met him was about to give way any time soon. At least, not until their boss told them to. "I'm not moving from here, Peter, unless it is to go to her. So if she sent you to send me away, forget about it." "She didn't send me, Stephan. Rachel sent me, which is what I meant about there being no privacy in families. Sophie is unhappy, which means Rachel is unhappy. And if Rachel's unhappy, you can bet your ass that my life is not a picnic at the moment." Stephan gave Peter a level look. "So, are we going to continue to stand here at an impasse, or are we going to do something about all this unhappiness?" Peter seemed to think about it for a moment. Then he sighed heavily. "You better be successful, pal, because if you're not, I might just have to throw you in the dungeon." "That would be fine. If I can't convince her that we were meant to be together, I'll let you." "Oh man, you are more stupid in love than I am. Come on. If she won't listen, maybe I'll handcuff the two of you together until she does." 185


Stephan smiled as the guard detail stood down. "I'll keep that offer in reserve, thanks." **** "Oh dear." Eugenia sighed and looked over at her sister. "I have to admit it, sister. You were absolutely right. None of the candidates I came up with can compare at all to the crown prince of Montgermane." "And he is so very unhappy right now." "So, too, is our Sophie. I had no idea that she had such sadness within her." "Well, sister, we should have known. After all, her parents weren't brought together by our magic," Gwendolyn said quietly. "No, there was no magic at all in this kingdom, in those days. Greed and selfishness eat magic until there isn't even an echo of it left." "Indeed. I do hope Stephan will be able to make Sophie listen." "So do I." Eugenia nodded her head once. She'd made a terrible mistake in allowing her own feelings and limited understanding of modern times to interfere with the magic. Then she smiled. She'd make up for that, and she knew the perfect way to do so. **** How could doing what had seemed so right at the time feel so wrong now? Sophie pushed away from her window. She couldn't go on like this, feeling sorry for herself. Feeling 186


miserable. She had never been a weepy woman, but since coming home and closing herself off from everyone, she'd done nothing but brood and cry. Is that any way for a princess to behave? I think not. You will learn, Sophie Liana Maria, that emotions aren't real and certainly are not to be trusted. The sooner you rid yourself of them, the better. No one cares about you, no one loves you. Love is a fallacy, a concept invented to placate the masses. You will learn to behave like a proper princess at all times, day and night, waking and sleeping, putting duty first, and taking your comfort in knowing you're above others. Sophie stopped in her tracks. The words from the past, forgotten until now, echoed through her mind, and she had to sit down as they slammed into her. Hearing them as a child they had cut deep, brutally slicing her emotions to ribbons and stripping her bare. Her mother's cold disapproval, with the acid reinforcement of her nanny, had debilitated her. Maman and Nanny Celeste had controlled her young world completely. Aside from Monsieur Dion, her tutor, they were practically the only adults in her life. They had even limited her access to her father and her siblings. They'd been intent, she saw now, on making her—Sophie inhaled deeply as she realized they'd wanted to make her something other than what she was. So she had adapted, taken on the patina chosen for her, and had learned that closing off her emotions where her mother had been concerned was the only way to survive. Learned behavior, not her nature. 187


Sophie felt close, so close to understanding her past and herself. There was only one piece of the puzzle left. Whether or not the experience humiliated her, she had to know the truth. She had to be certain of it. She'd never run in the corridors until now. Oh, how freeing it felt to run! Nor had she ever burst in on her father without knocking, until now. "Sophie! What is wrong, sweetheart?" The alarm in her father's voice as he surged to his feet was the first clue she had that she was crying. You were wrong, Nanny Celeste. My father loves me. "You have to tell me what happened, Papa. What made her change? Was it ... was it childbirth? I have read that sometimes pregnancy and childbirth can cause a woman to change." Post-partum depression it was called. Only recently recognized as a real disorder, those women unfortunate enough to suffer from it sometimes suffered even more at the hands of unsympathetic doctors and family. She thought, too, the disorder could be hereditary. Instinctively Sophie placed her hands on her abdomen. Lord, she hoped that hadn't been it. "I need to know, Papa. I don't want to be like her!" "Like who, Sophie?" "Maman. I don't want to turn into her!" She nearly fled at the look of pain that crossed her father's face. She'd never wanted to hurt him. She was the most ungrateful child to hurt him. "Oh, Sophie, no. You could never be like her. Never." "But everyone says I am exactly like her. I have always thought so all my life. That is why I was never going to marry 188


or have children. I thought I would never fall in love. Always, I believed I couldn't fall in love, and that love was something I was unable to feel. But I have, and I do, and I need to know—" Her father sighed, weariness and regret chasing each other across a face that suddenly looked older than she had ever seen it. "Your mother never changed. That was the problem." **** Alex walked around his desk. Gently wiping the tears from his daughter's face, he said, "I thought I had done the right, the honorable thing. I can see now that I was wrong. Come, sweetheart. Come sit with me." He guided her to the small couch and sat beside her, taking both of her hands into his. He wasn't certain where to begin, how much of his own personal disappointment he should share with his daughter. Hannah had been right, though, when she'd told him of Sophie's fears and their cause. And because he'd had a hand in it, too, he set aside his own discomfort. Right now, only his daughter mattered. "I met your mother for the first time about a week before we married. She was, at that point, the most beautiful woman I'd ever laid eyes on. I thought, when we were first introduced, that my parents had finally done something right in choosing her for me. Liana was reserved during that first encounter, saying little. Shyness, I believed. "But I was wrong. The day before the wedding, she informed me—via her attendant who later became your nanny—that she had no intention of sharing a bedroom with 189


me. She would, of course, submit to me and 'do her duty' to produce children. But once the requisite number of children had been born she would consider her duty complete." "That's ... awful, Papa. And very sad. Not just for you, but for her." "Indeed. I tried very hard, those first few years, to reach her. I thought that perhaps she had been raised to be that way, and that with enough time and patience and caring, she would change. "But the truth is, Sophie, she never did. And though I never gave up trying, the truth is your mother simply didn't have any interest in developing a relationship of any kind with me. There was nothing maternal in her either. As each of you was born, I discovered that, and it broke my heart. I guess that some women simply aren't ... wired that way. Then, when you were about four, your resemblance to her became obvious. I thought, when she began to show real interest in you, that it was a sign things were getting better. At this point, I knew in my heart there was no hope for the two of us. But if she could at least begin to become a real mother..." He sighed again, briefly bowing his head, for a moment unable to meet her gaze. Rubbing his thumbs gently over the backs of her hands, he resumed his explanation. "Anyway, when she moved you into her wing, when she seemed to devote herself almost completely to you, I did have hope. Though a part of me was concerned when I only got to see you once a week, you seemed content. I'm afraid I convinced myself at the time that everything was fine. 190


"Until she died, I had no idea the sort of agenda she and Celeste had planned out for you. To this day I cannot imagine what they did to you, psychologically. I am very sorry to say that at the time, I didn't think their influence would be long lasting. That viper Celeste came to me a week after we lost your mother, to inform me of their plans, fully expecting that being a man I would have no concern and would allow her to continue to have free reign over you in your mother's place. My God, you weren't yet twelve and they'd been about to arrange a marriage for you." Alex's heart lifted when Sophie offered him a smile. "I only just remembered that very recently. And something else I was grateful for at the time, but didn't know how or why ... whatever happened to Nanny Celeste?" Alex's expression turned hard. "I dismissed her that very afternoon. At the time, I was certain that whatever bad influences you'd suffered, my love and attention, and the company of your siblings, would cure. After your mother died I made a conscious decision to speak of her to you and your brothers and sister only in a positive light. She was gone, and regardless of how much or how little affection you children had received from her, she had been your mother. And I also determined that my relationship with the four of you would take a more prominent role in my life. "I am sorry, Sophie. So very sorry that I let you down. My own arrogance had me believing that I could make everything right for you. But I never looked deeply. I never realized the way you felt about yourself." 191


Sophie felt fresh tears welling up in her eyes, but the cause of these was different. "You didn't let me down, Papa. I should have come to you sooner. I think ... I think that at some point, I simply accepted what Maman and Nanny said because it was easier for me. And it became so ingrained that I didn't think about it. I never had to think about it, really." Sophie smiled, and then her smile turned into a chuckle. Alex was damn glad to see that sparkle. "What has you laughing?" "I had a plan of my own. I did go along with Maman and Nanny Celeste, on the surface, but there was a tiny rebellion within me. I never wanted to do to a child what had been done to me, and I came up with plan—the perfect plan—that would guarantee I never married or had children. It was a decision I made, and I know I would have gone through with it if I'd had to." "What decision did you make?" "I decided to join a convent." Alex opened his mouth to respond, but someone else beat him to it. "There is no way in hell you're joining a convent!" [Back to Table of Contents]

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Chapter 19 Stephan couldn't believe what he'd just heard her say. He'd known she felt unsure of herself, but he never could have dreamed she would react to that by making such an irrevocable choice. It no longer mattered if he had the right words or not. In three long strides he was in front of her. Unable to keep his hands off her, he set them on her shoulders and squeezed. "If you think you're going to run away and hide yourself behind cloistered walls, woman, you can think again. It is not going to happen. I forbid it!" "I beg your pardon?" The frosty tone of Sophie's question sent a stream of panic into his heart. Apparently, laying down the law was entirely the wrong tact to take, even if it had felt good to say those words. My God, for a moment there I'd sounded like my father. As he looked into Sophie's eyes, his love for her drowned every other emotion, even pride. "How can you ever believe that you'll turn into a cold and unfeeling woman? My God, look what you've chosen to devote your life to! You could do anything, or nothing, and instead you spend your time with orphaned children. You love those children, Sophie, with all that is in you. I was there when Anna finally had that breakthrough and began to heal. I saw the joy on your face, and the tenderness with which you held her. You cried for her! You may have kept to yourself all these years, but that was a choice made, I'm certain, at a 193


time when you were vulnerable and needed to defend yourself in the only way you could." "Stephan—" He wouldn't let her interrupt. He'd have his say, and say it all. "And how can you deny the way you melt in my arms? From the first time I ambushed you and laid my lips on yours, you've been hot for me. You love me. I know you do. Loving me, how can you sentence yourself to a lonely, sheltered life?" "Stephan, you don't understand—" Desperation welled up in him. He was losing her, and he didn't know what more he could say to make her understand. His hands gripped her shoulders, but even in his anxiety, the shake he gave her was gentle. "Damn it, Sophie, you could be carrying my child. There is no way in hell I'm going to let go of you. Not now. Not ever." "Well now, I think we're going to have to talk." Alex's voice cut through the emotion running hot in his veins. Someone else made what sounded like a strangled laugh. Stephan had completely forgotten about the other men in the room, too focused on convincing Sophie of his love that he'd ignored everything and everyone else around them. "I can explain," Stephan said slowly. Unwilling to let Sophie go even in the most simple, physical sense, he put his arm around her and turned to face his honorary uncle. "I don't believe that's necessary. If you recall, I am a man on my honeymoon." "Yes, sir." 194


"However, Sophie is my daughter, and I'm sure you will agree a father with a daughter may be excused if he's somewhat overprotective." "Uncle Alex, you know that I would never deliberately do anything to hurt Sophie." "Do I? Hmm, let me think about that." Alex looked at him in a way that made Stephan feel as if he was being dissected. When the king turned to Peter, and that man stepped closer, Stephan's face heated with embarrassment. He really had forgotten he and Sophie hadn't been alone in the room. Alex walked over to his desk, but remained standing as he opened the file folder that rested there. "First, you accost my daughter in her own home. I have witnesses to that effect. Something about stealing kisses on the sly and an interlude in a cloak room that caused a maid to blush and stammer when questioned about it. And then you appear in public, in my realm, in the uniform of another nation." "Uniform of another nation?" Stephan shot a look to Sophie, who appeared equally confused. Yes, he had participated in the tournament as the black knight, but he had been in full armor, not a uniform. "Sir," Peter interrupted, "he carried no flag into battle. On the high seas, a ship bearing no flag and taking up arms is considered a pirate." "Quite right, Peter. Thank you for bringing that to my attention. So far, then, we have assault and piracy." "Papa! What are you—?" "Silence. I have not given you leave to speak." 195


Alex's tone made Sophie stiffen, and Stephan watched her cheeks redden. His words also called to mind his own father whose ire had been raised more than a time or two by his sons. It would be wise, Stephan thought, to keep silent. He gave Sophie a small squeeze in commiseration. "Now, that brings us to the biggest crime of all. Kidnapping a member of the royal family of Boisdemer, and forcible confinement of a member of the royal family of Boisdemer." He stopped for a moment and looked at his security chief. "Did I leave anything out?" "Actually, in light of new information, I do believe there is still a statute on the books requiring any member of the royal family to seek consent from the king before attempting to conceive a child." "Is that one still there? Amazing. I don't think it's actually been used since the 1700s when one of my ancestors had to deal with a somewhat licentious son." Peter shook his head in a show of chiding disapproval. "You know, sir, you really should take some time one of these days to have a look at all the laws not yet repealed. If nothing else, the list makes for some very entertaining reading." Well, Uncle Alex and his chief of security seemed to be having a fine time, Stephan thought sourly. He didn't appreciate their repartee, either. His world was coming apart at the seams, and they were having fun at his expense. His temper heated up. "I'll do that," Alex answered him. "In the mean time, what on earth am I going to do about all these illegal activities?" 196


Peter shot a look at him, but Stephan didn't particularly like his smile when he said to Alex, "Sir, you're the king, ruler of all you survey. You can do whatever you like." Alex chuckled and said, "Yes, I really like that part of my job." Then he leaned over his desk, both hands flat on the surface. All humor had left his face. "Sophie, running away is never the answer to any problem. From the scene I just witnessed, and the one that preceded it, it's clear to me that the two of you need time, and peace to discuss matters. Any ideas on that score, Peter?" "Well, sir, the dungeon isn't being used at the moment." Stephan stepped forward, because Sophie had gasped, and the look on her face said that she believed her father was serious. The thought of Sophie being even a little frightened, even by a father he knew loved her, robbed him of diplomacy. "You wouldn't dare!" "Ah, Stephan. You're the second person in recent times to say that to me." **** "I can't believe my father has done this!" "Believe it," Stephan said ruefully. "These chains seem real enough. Are you all right?" She and Stephan were sitting side by side in very comfortable plush chairs. The room—or rather, she thought, the cell—was cast in shadows. There was a small round table between their chairs, and on that table were cups of tea and an assortment of thin, delectable sandwiches and pastries. In fact, if it weren't for the leg shackles holding them to the 197


chairs and the manacles securing one arm each—his left and her right—the scene had all the appearance of a genteel repast from decades past. "You mean other than being furious with my father? Of course I'm all right." "I don't think he did this to upset you. I think he just wanted to give us the opportunity to talk." "You're not angry?" "Well, I cannot hold or kiss any part of you, other than your hand. That doesn't make me very happy. On the other hand and please pardon the pun, you can't run off from me, either." There was a trace of anger in Stephan's voice, but she was astute enough to understand it wasn't directed at her father. "I'm sorry, Stephan. I probably should not have left without telling you." "Probably?" Sophie ignored his autocratic tone for the moment. "It was rude of me to leave without so much as writing you a note. After all I was a guest in your home." "You are going to make me say words that I have never used in the presence of a lady." Ignoring his warning growl, Sophie continued with righteous hauteur. "However, I thought I was doing the right thing at the time." "Sophie, how could running away be the right thing?" "Well. That's just what I was trying to tell you upstairs in father's office when you were issuing orders and commandments like some sort of ... of..." 198


"Future king?" The look on his face was pure Stephan. One part devil, one part saint. "You're very funny. I had never seen that side of you before. It didn't take very much for that arrogant, domineering trait to rise to the surface, either," she noted. "A little emotional upset—" "A little emotional upset? First, the woman I love vanishes from my bed without so much as a by-your-leave or thanksfor-the-sex. Then, I'm forced to wait an entire day to follow because of a sudden, unexpected storm. Then I arrive but can barely step foot off my plane because a phalanx of guards, led by my beloved's future brother-in-law are ready to tear my heart out. Then I finally convince everyone that I mean no harm, I arrive where I need to be, open a door and hear the woman I love, the one I want to spend the rest of my life with, who even now may be carrying my child, telling her papa that she has decided to join a convent and you think I was a little upset?" Sophie waved her left hand, dismissing his complaint. "That is not important. What is important is this new and disturbing trait I've seen in you. Am I going to have to worry about you ordering me around like one of your minions after we are married? Because, my love, that is not something that holds any appeal for me whatsoever." She turned to look at him, and had the pleasure of watching his face as her words, their meaning, penetrated. When he reached for her hand, she gave it. When he kissed hers, then brought it to his face, her heart melted. There was 199


such love in his eyes, such joy, that she knew the spectres of the past would soon be completely banished for good. "I cannot promise that you will never see that side of me again, but I'll try. I can promise that I will never cease being grateful that you're my wife. I'll never tire of doing all that I can to make you happy. I promise that there will always be family time, for you and me, and the children we have together. I promise to never, ever stop loving you." "I promise to never let anything come between us, ever again—not even my own fears. I promise that I will never cease being grateful that you're my husband, and I will never tire of doing my best to make you happy. I love you, Stephan, and I want, very, very much to have your children." "No joining any convents?" There was teasing in his voice and laughter in his eyes. "No convents. If you had barged into that private conversation just earlier little bit sooner, you would have heard me tell papa that it was an idea I'd had years ago, but did not have to use. Most happily, now, as it turns out." Sophie wanted to kiss him, but knew she couldn't. The chains didn't give them much leeway. Frowning, she jerked her right arm, testing the strength of the metal. "We're good and truly shackled together, love. How long do you think your father is going to leave us down here like this?" Sophie couldn't reach Stephan's mouth with hers, but she could rest her head on his shoulder. She smiled as he automatically adjusted the way he was sitting to better accommodate her. "Well," she said softly in answer to his 200


question, "before today I never would have believed he'd have done this at all. But as to how long we'll stay this way, my guess would be about thirty seconds after Hannah finds out what he's done." As if her words had summoned them, the sound of the outer door to the corridor opening and her new stepmother giving her father merry hell reached them. "So, Your Highness," Stephan began, speaking quickly, "I didn't ask, and you didn't answer. Yet. But I will now. I want you as my best friend, my wife, and the mother of my children. Sophie, will you marry me? Will you be my princess, and one day, my queen?" "Yes, Stephan, I will." They reached for each other automatically. But it wasn't until their kiss ended that they noticed the chains that had so recently held them apart had fallen to the floor. From the sounds of their voices, Hannah was still giving Alex a dressing down in the next room. "Do you smell lilacs and hear music?" Stephan asked. Sophie laughed, as she looked from the chains to her fiancé. "I do. Just like that day that Catharine accepted Philip's proposal. Perhaps their fairy godmother stayed around for a while." "Oh, that wasn't their fairy godmother, darling." "No?" "No, that was ours." [Back to Table of Contents]

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Epilogue Sophie opened her eyes, the soft haze of sleep cocooning her and keeping her warm beneath the blankets. Standing with his back to her at the end of the bed, Stephan, gloriously naked, spoke softly. Soft moonlight spilled into the room, dappling his bronzed flesh, illuminating him in a way that she thought almost looked angelic. His pose—his arms gathered to the front—and the tilt of his head were enough even without the soft words to tell her what he was doing up in the middle of the night. For a moment she decided to simply enjoy this sight. There'd been many such moments in the last month. Watching Stephan in this, his newest role, was fast becoming her favorite pastime. "Is she hungry?" Sophie finally asked, sitting up and gathering pillows behind her back. "Mmm. She may be, a little. She was definitely wet, and we couldn't have that." "Come back to bed darling. Bring her with you." A tiny gurgling sound was enough to stimulate Sophie's breasts so that her milk was ready by the time the tiny mouth fastened greedily on her left nipple. "I will never get over the wonder of her, or you," Stephan whispered. His finger continued to caress their daughter's tiny cheek. "Alexandria Sophia Isabella Marie ... what a big name for such a tiny angel." 202


Sophie relaxed, so filled with joy and contentment she thought it a wonder she didn't burst. "It is a big name," Sophie agreed. "At the christening today, Catharine dubbed her 'Allie'. I think I like that." "Allie. Yes, that is a very good name for our daughter." He looked up at her, then leaned in for a quick kiss. "I didn't get much of a chance to visit with your sisters today. I'm glad they're staying for a few days. How are they?" "Both are past the morning sickness. Did you know that they are due within days of each other?" "That I did know. Peter and Philip were considering placing wagers, but I think Hannah's appearance beside them stemmed that plan." "Thank you, Stephan." "For?" "For this happiness in my heart that grows every day. I love you so much. Thank you for stealing kisses and keeping after me. And thank you for this beautiful baby." "I am the one who should be saying thanks. One taste and I knew I had found my soul mate. I am the luckiest man in all the world." "I'm the lucky one, husband. I've been a princess all my life, but it never seemed special or magical until you. Marrying you has been like living a real fairy tale." "There is no doubt in my mind at all that there will be nothing but magic and love in our home, forever." Sophie knew he spoke nothing but the truth. **** 203


"Well, sister?" Invisible to human eyes, the two fairy godmothers hovered close to the ceiling and looked on as the young family snuggled in to enjoy the intimate moment. "Gwendolyn, I have to admit that you were completely right. He is a good boy. And such a good father, too." "And the perfect match for our Sophie?" "Indeed." Leaving the bedroom, they continued to rise above the castle in Korvan, the official residence of the royal family in the capital city of Montgermane. Because they wished it, by simply looking down, they could see into the interior of the castle, to the guests who'd arrived that day for little Allie's christening. Hannah and Alex, Catharine and Philip, and Rachel and Peter, were all sound asleep, all warm and safe and happy. Love thrived here and in the resting hearts, filling the air with the scent of lilacs, the sound of soft music, and the rosy color of joy. "We've done good work here, sister," Eugenia said softly. "We have. We surely have. But there is just one thing." "Yes?" "I have so much magic left, Eugenia, I wonder what on earth I'm going to do with it?" "Oh, that's easy." "It is?" "Yes." With a wave of her hand, she and her sister began to drift on the breeze. "Time for us moves at a different pace than it does for them. It won't be all that long before we're needed again. The next generation of Benets and Jones and 204


de la Croix are on their way. And, don't forget, there's that delightful little Michelle over in Canada. Since that little sweetheart was the one who began this entire adventure, we can't forget her." "Yes, of course. How wonderful! We will be needed again before long." "Quite right. And as for these others, there's really only one thing left to say." "I know." Gwendolyn's eyes danced with joy. "May I say it, sister? Please?" "Gwendolyn, I do believe you've earned that right." Gwendolyn smiled. The air began to sparkle around her. Holding out her hand, her fingers closed around the glowing wand that appeared. Raising it high she then gently dipped it over the castle. Her words, when she spoke, were bathed in the lyrical beauty of ages past. "And they all lived happily ever after." [Back to Table of Contents]

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A PRINCE FOR SOPHIE Magic and Love 3 THE END WWW.MORGANASHBURY.COM [Back to Table of Contents]

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Author's Bio ****

**** Morgan has been a writer since she was first able to pick up a pen. In the beginning it was a hobby, a way to create a world of her own, and who could resist the allure of that? Then as she grew and matured, life got in the way, as life often does. She got married and had three children, and worked in the field of accounting, for that was the practical 207


thing to do and the children did need to be fed. And all the time she was being practical, she would squirrel herself away on quiet Sunday afternoons, and write. Most children are raised knowing the Ten Commandments and the Golden Rule. Morgan's children also learned the Paper Rule: thou shalt not throw out any paper that has thy mother's words upon it. Believing in tradition, Morgan ensured that her children's children learned this rule, too. Life threw Morgan a curve when, in 2002, she underwent emergency triple by-pass surgery. Second chances are to be cherished, and with the encouragement and support of her husband, Morgan decided to use hers to do what she'd always dreamed of doing: writing full time. "I can't tell you how much I love what I do. I am truly blessed." Morgan has always loved writing romance. It is the one genre that can incorporate every other genre within its pulsating heart. Romance showcases all that human kind can aspire to be. And, she admits, she's a sucker for a happy ending. Morgan's favorite hobbies are reading, cooking, and traveling—though she would rather you didn't mention that last one to her husband. She has too much fun teasing him about having become a "Traveling Fool" of late. Morgan lives in Southwestern Ontario with a cat that has an attitude, a dog that has no dignity, and her husband of thirty-five years, David. [Back to Table of Contents] 208


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Siren Publishing, Inc. www.SirenPublishing.com

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A Prince for Sophie

Sophie

Sophie

Sophie

Sophie

Ransom for a Prince

A Prince for Jenny

A Prince for Jenny

Ransom for a Prince

Saving Sophie

Sophie Kinsella

Satisfying Sophie

Saving Sophie

Lady Sophie

Choosing Sophie

Sophie Kinsella

Stealing Sophie

Les barbecues de Sophie

Meeting Sophie: A Memoir of Adoption

The Snippy Miss Sophie

kinsella sophie can you keep a secret

Sophie & Carter

Leaving Sophie Dean

Les Buffets de Sophie

Les Malheurs de Sophie

A Bride for the Island Prince

A Bride for the Island Prince

Happy Birthday, Sophie Hartley

Waiting for Prince Charming

Searching For Her Prince

Searching For Her Prince

A Prince for Sophie

Sophie

Sophie

Sophie

Sophie

Ransom for a Prince

A Prince for Jenny

A Prince for Jenny

Ransom for a Prince

Saving Sophie

Sophie Kinsella

Satisfying Sophie

Saving Sophie

Lady Sophie

Choosing Sophie

Sophie Kinsella

Stealing Sophie

Les barbecues de Sophie

Meeting Sophie: A Memoir of Adoption

The Snippy Miss Sophie

kinsella sophie can you keep a secret

Sophie & Carter

Leaving Sophie Dean

Les Buffets de Sophie

Les Malheurs de Sophie

A Bride for the Island Prince

A Bride for the Island Prince

Happy Birthday, Sophie Hartley

Waiting for Prince Charming

Searching For Her Prince

Searching For Her Prince

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