Billionaire: Billionaire Romance: Billionaire Tiger (A Billionaire New Adult Shifter Contemporary Romance) (11 page)

The King was lying beside her with his eyes closed, his large tanned hand resting on her pale stomach, a peaceful smile playing on his lips. Beth felt as if she would never be able to move again, so overwhelmed she was by the intensity of their coupling. A thin sheen of sweat covered them both, and their hair was wild and tangled on the pillows. As her breath began to steady, Beth took in the King’s physique as he lay there beside her. She had never seen a naked man before, and her eyes were drawn to the bulging muscles on his arms and legs. She knew he was an avid sportsman, and had the reputation of having admirable calves, but she hadn’t expected him to be quite this muscular underneath his expensive clothes. Beth moved over so that her head was resting on the King’s firm chest, and his hand idly stroked her back. They lay there for a while, exhausted and satisfied, lost in their own thoughts. Eventually the King extricated himself from Beth’s embrace, got up, and began dressing again.

“Elizabeth, you do not disappoint. I can only thank you from the bottom of my heart for coming to me this evening; I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did. I shall see you again very soon.” Then, with a final appreciative look at Beth’s body reclining in his bed, the King of England strode away. Beth smiled to herself at his formality, and then flopped back against the pillows that still smelt of the King.

Chapter 8

The following day, Beth and Emma were glad to be released early from their duties in the kitchen, as it enabled them to spend time getting ready for the dance. They got a tin bathtub, filled it with jugs of warm water, and sprinkled in some rose petals and sprigs of lavender from the gardens. As Beth luxuriated in the warm water, Emma rubbed soap in her friend’s hair, and they talked happily about the evening to come. After they had both bathed the girls rubbed oil into their skin, dressed in their best gowns, and did each other’s hair. Once these preparations were complete they looked at themselves side by side in the mirror, and were pleased with their handiwork. The blue satin ribbon that the King had given to Beth was fastened in her hair, and her skin was flushed from the warmth of the bath and the excitement of the night ahead.

“Is that a love bite?” Emma asked, peering closely at Beth’s neck.

“Of course not, who could possibly have given me a love bite, silly?” Beth retorted quickly, still not ready to confide in her friend. Before she had to say anything else though, there was a rap at their door. John stood there looking dapper, also in his best clothes, and with a sprig of blossom in each hand. With a grin he unceremoniously thrust his gifts forwards, one for each of the girls. Thanking him, they attached the dainty flowers to each other’s hair, and the three of them set off for their dance.

The evening was a great success. Emma kindly stayed with Beth at the beginning, introducing her to other servants, but after a while she disappeared off to find her stable boy. When John and Beth were left alone, he held out his hand with a cheeky look in his eye, and asked Beth to dance. The dancing was fun and tiring. Beth had never been to a dance before, but John was very patient when she kept treading on his toes. After a few songs, they went to the bar to order a drink, needing a rest from all of the exercise. Once they had their drinks, John led Beth outside, and they sat down on a bench outside the tavern.

“Are you enjoying yourself, Beth?” He asked after a long swig from his tankard.

“Yes, it is fantastic. Thank you so much for inviting me,” Beth replied, smiling at him shyly.

“I am so glad you are having a good time. I am sure that my toes will recover eventually from their terrible mistreatment!” John said, and the two laughed together, enjoying the warm evening air and the feeling of intoxication caused by the drink and the excitement. John gradually stopped laughing, and became suddenly serious. He drew a deep breath and then began speaking quickly: “Beth, my father has been bothering me for a long time about my need for a wife. I know we have only known each other for a short while, but I wanted to ask… that is, I had a suggestion that… would you do me the pleasure of…” Beth’s eyes had widened as she grasped what he was about to suggest. A sense of panic gripped her; John was so lovely and he was certainly handsome, but she was no virgin anymore and having tasted the ecstasy of her night with the King she wasn’t sure if she felt the same attraction towards John. He was less manly somehow, more timid and youthful, and she wasn’t sure she could feel for him the lust she had felt the previous night. It was all so confusing and happening too quickly. She stumbled to her feet, muttered her excuses, and disappeared back inside to find Emma, leaving a heartbroken John staring blindly into the night.

Chapter 9:
Six Months Later

“His Royal Highness has a lot to answer for,” Emma grumbled as she held back Beth’s hair as she once again retched into a bucket. “A fine mess he’s got you into. I am of a mind to go and speak to him myself if you will not go and plead for his support. He cannot simply choose a servant girl, have his way with her, and then cast her aside if she finds herself with child. He might give you money if you explain that the baby cannot be anyone’s other than his, you must speak to him.” Beth felt too ill and despondent to even consider going to the King. She couldn’t believe that this had happened. She had now shared the King’s bed for six months. She had celebrated with him at the birth of his son and heir, and grieved with him when the child died a mere 52 days later. Their romance had become ever more passionate and lustful since then, and Beth suspected that Henry despaired of ever fathering a child by Catherine. Now though, Beth found herself with child, and she couldn’t help but hate herself for conceived, however unwittingly, a child when Catherine herself was struggling to produce any living offspring. Moreover, Beth knew her life was now ruined: she could never marry having proved herself an adulterous, sinful woman. Moaning in despair, Beth leant over the bucket and vomited once more.

Beth felt too weak to look up when she heard footsteps and shuffling behind her. Within moments though, she felt a reassuring hand on her back and could smell the leather that always accompanied John when he entered a room. She smiled gratefully at her friend’s support, although she did register a slight wariness that a man had entered a woman’s bedchamber. Beth began to feel better as John stroked her back in circular motions, and finally felt able to remove her head from the bucket and rest against John’s shoulder. She surprised herself by feeling extremely glad that John had come. She realized in a flash that the King might stir her loins, but it was John’s unassuming, reliable nature that stirred her heart. Now Beth felt more confused than ever, and a tear escaped her eye as she reminded herself that she was no longer entitled to be in love, since she was now damaged goods. Unaware of Beth’s thoughts, John launched into the monologue he had come to say: “Beth, Emma has explained the situation to me. I know you are with child, and I know the child is the King’s. I must say you have been very foolish, but it is not my place to judge, and I just hope his Highness treated you well. I know you must be scared, Beth, but there is absolutely no way I am going to allow your name to be muddied or scandal to fall on your back. This may perhaps seem as if I am taking advantage of your desperate state, but please believe me when I say that is not my intention. I think you know I have loved you, Beth, since the day I met you. These last months I have been in anguish knowing that you did not see me in the same light. Of course, the decision is entirely yours, but I have a suggestion that might solve your problem. Elizabeth Scott, would you do me the honor of accepting my hand in marriage? Nobody else needs know that you were already pregnant; we can allow them to think that we had a very fruitful wedding night. I will treat you well Beth, I will consider the child my own, and you do not even need to submit to your wifely duties if you do not want. I just want you to be happy.” As abruptly as John had started speaking, he stopped. The room was silent for a moment, and then with her heart racing Beth leant forwards and pressed her lips against his; her hand clasped the back of his head and her fingers stroked his soft hair.

“John, you have made me the happiest girl in England,” Beth murmured into his lips, and her tears began to flow freely.

CHAPTER 1

Dr. Alexa Ramirez expected to be a little sweaty after her usual post-work jog along the river. She didn't expect to find a smouldering handsome stranger waiting outside the clinic as she returned, and she sure as hell didn't expect him to collapse right in front of her.

She spotted him the moment she turned the corner. He looked completely out of place, tall and stately, dressed in a fancy suit and his blonde hair coiffed perfectly away from his face as he turned to watch her approach.

She reached for the iPod she had clipped to her waistband and slowed her pace, lowering the volume a little and sighing. This was her favorite time of day - when she could get away from the walk-ins and have a little alone time but it looked like duty was calling, even though she was technically off the clock.

The pale hue of the streetlight illuminated his face, making his skin looked soft and ethereal, as though he had just stepped out of one of Alexa's dreams. But as she slowed her jog to a walk and drew closer, his expression changed. His eyes looked wild, panicked, his lips moved soundlessly as he tried to tell her something before he gave her a weak half-smile, then swayed and did a face-plant directly in front of her.

"Jesus!" she shouted, tearing off her headphones and darting toward him.

By the time she got to him, he was convulsing on the ground, his arms and legs twitching uncontrollably as his head rolled back against the pavement. Alexa peeled off her jacket, rolled it up quickly and placed it under his shoulder, she turned him to one side to keep him from hurting himself.

"Sir? Sir, it's okay, you're not alone. I'm here with you, alright? I'm going to help."

The seizure only lasted for a few more seconds before his body stopped convulsing and his hands unclenched and his breathing slowed. Alexa waited a few seconds longer before she took the jacket and slipped it under his neck, then turned him over onto his back.

Immediately, she was struck by the man's features. He looked even more perfect up close. He was obviously pale from fainting, but he was so serene now, so peaceful, that Alexa almost forgot he had collapsed. She knew it was wrong to ogle him at this moment. He was obviously in a vulnerable state. But his features were striking and for the briefest of flashes, Alexa thought maybe she had seen him somewhere before but she couldn't quite place when or where.

He looked much less unkempt than most of the walk-ins she saw at the clinic. His perfectly blonde hair was tousled over one eye, and high cheekbones framed his slender nose. She moved a few stray strands out of the way, noticing a bump starting to form where he'd hit his head when he fell. His jaw was square, prominent, and his lips, although full, had now gone quite pale, almost blue, which snapped Alexa out of her daydream. She knelt over him, shaking him softly a few times.

"Hello, sir? Can you hear me?"

When he didn't respond, she pressed her fingers to the side of his neck. His pulse was too weak to detect and his skin was cold. She looked up but his car, if he'd even come in a car, was nowhere to be seen. That was that - Alexa had to get him inside.

"I guess a little extra cardio can't hurt," she said to herself. She hitched her fingers under either armpit and dragged him toward the door. In a few seconds, she'd unlocked the door and managed to get him inside. She left him there, darting down the hall to the small examination room and grabbing a gurney, rolling it out the door and rushing back to where she'd left the stranger.

He stirred slightly, his eyelids fluttering as he tried to come around.

"Sir? I'm Alexa. I'm a doctor. You've collapsed, but I'm going to help you."

He mumbled something but Alexa couldn't make out what he was saying.

She knelt beside him again and using every ounce of strength she had left in her, she hoisted him up high enough that she could slide him partway onto the gurney.

"Listen, you gotta help me here. I'm trying to get you onto this bed, alright?"

For a brief second, he opened his eyes, only a slit, but he seemed to get a short burst of energy when he saw her and managed to haul himself up onto the bed before collapsing against the pillow.

"Good, that's good."

She rolled the bed back down the hall to the exam room and slid it into place. She grabbed her stethoscope and pressed it to his chest. She took a deep breath, calmed her breathing and listened.

For what felt like a long while, she didn't hear anything. She watched the man, the rise and fall of his chest slow, slight. So he was getting some air, he was still breathing.

She looked down at him, the harsh overhead lights made his skin look shockingly pale, almost porcelain, with an underlying blue tone. It wasn't that cold out but she'd been gone on her run for almost 2 hours. Who knows how long he'd been standing in the cold outside the clinic?

Exactly. She had to act fast. She grabbed a pulse monitor and slid it onto one of his slender fingers, then reached up for the monitor and flicked it on. Nothing happened. She tapped it, as if that would make it work, then took his hand and made sure the monitor was on properly. Still nothing.

"This is exactly why we need equipment that actually works," she said, clenching her jaw and trying to keep her temper in check. She'd been fighting with these ageing machines for months and now, when a patient's life truly depended on them, the machine decided to act up again.

She tore the monitor off, taking out her stethoscope and thermometer from the tray. "Looks like I'm going to have to do it the old fashioned way."