Highness (8 page)

LouAnn looked back behind her to find Hope walking toward the sound of Michael’s voice from the hallway. 

“Are you available, Hope?” LouAnn asked playfully. 

Hope tried not to smile as brightly as she wanted. “I think so,” she answered.

“Hi,” Hope said, twisting her fingers together. 

“Good morning,” he said, thinking that she looked like Christmas morning in her black yoga pants and her pink form-fitting t-shirt.  He couldn’t help but notice that she only had socks on. 

Just then LouAnn’s phone went off in the front pocket of her smock.  “Hold on one second,” she said, pulling the phone out and looking at it.  “This is my grandson’s school.”

Stepping away from Michael and Hope, she left them to talk for a moment. As soon as she did, all the air in the room seem to be sucked out and both of them found themselves fumbling.

“What brings you to my doorstep
this
morning?” Hope asked. 

Michael stepped closer to her and took her hand.  Pulling the envelopes into her hand, he bent and whispered into her ear. “You’ve got mail.”

“Thank you,” Hope giggled.  She liked him being close, but she tried hard not to put her hand on his chest again, this time, although something about him drew her near. 

LouAnn walked back into the room and huffed. “I’m so sorry.  Hunter is sick, and his mother works in Germantown. I need to go and get him.”

“I’ll be fine,” Hope answered. “Go get your grandson.”

“Are you sure?” LouAnn asked even though she was relieved.  “What about your walk?”

Michael immediately seized the opportunity. “I’d love to take you,” he said, quickly.  He hated himself for sounding too eager. “I haven’t gone on my run yet,” he explained a little less spastic. 

LouAnn looked at the man drenched in sweat, obviously from a seriously exhausting workout, and raised a brow. “Are you sure it won’t be putting you out?” she asked, turning up her lips at him. If only Hope could see how big of a lie he was telling at the moment, she might find him more adorable than he already was.

“It would be my pleasure,” Michael answered with a smug smile.  “I was just going to work out myself.  So, it will be no imposition at all.”  He looked down at Hope with a determined gaze. 

LouAnn shook her head. It didn’t take a genius to see where this was going. “Well, aren’t we fortunate?” she said, putting her hands on her hips.  With a huff, she digressed.  “Alright, I’ll leave you kids to it. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“Take your time,” Hope answered, reaching for Michael’s hand.  She caressed the smooth ridges of his fingers.  “Follow me to the den,” she ordered.

“Yes, ma’am,” Michael said, winking devilishly back at LouAnn.

“Be good, young man,” LouAnn warned as she headed out the front door.

“Alone at last,” Hope joked.

Michael didn’t laugh. It was exactly what he had in mind the entire time. “So where’d you like to walk today?” he asked as he looked around.

“The park would be nice.” Hope smirked. “Are you sure that you won’t be too put out?”

“No, why would you ask?”

Hope stopped walking and turned to him.  Reaching out, she touched his chest.  Her fingers trailed in the heat of his body and the dampness of his shirt.  “I can smell your sweat,” she answered with a grin.  “Didn’t know if you had one more workout in you.”

He looked down into her beautiful face again and fought his urge to kiss her full mouth.  “Damn, I’m caught,” he said ruefully hiding the lust boiling under his surface.  “Guess I should have freshened up first.  I hope my
fragrance
isn’t too offensive.”

“Not at all.  I like sweat on a man,” Hope said, shaking her head.  “I thought it was cute.”  She removed her hand, but not before patting his chest.

“Do you?”  Michael ran a hand through his hair. “Well, aren’t you clever?” 
Or am I just an idiot
, he asked himself inwardly.

“Not clever just more in tune with my other senses.” 

“All of them?” Michael asked suggestively.

“Yes, all of them.” Hope started to walk with him again. 

“How do you walk around without bumping into anything?”

“I’m a clean freak.  I keep most of the house in perfect condition, all except my work room.”

“Where is that?  What do you work on?”

“Nothing at the moment.”  She avoided the questions.

Michael had never been so far into Hope’s home before.  Even when he came to the front door this morning with her mail, he only half-way expected to get into the foyer.  But now, he was here – an opportunity that he could only attribute to a mix of preparation and luck. 

Something about being here with her was like being a teenager again.  Excitement coursed through his veins like a boy about to experience his first kiss.  Bliss.  Pure unadulterated bliss.  

“Your home is beautiful,” he said, loving how cozy and warm it was. And it wasn’t just small talk.  He could smell candles burning all around him.  The air was crisp and clean like fresh linen.  Wilted flowers bent over crystal vases.  The smell of cleaning products danced in the air with bleach and fabric softener.  It was homey and perfectly decorated, like the American romantic comedies that he was forced to watch when he was with Thalia.   

“Thank you,” Hope said, praying the house was as clean as when she had sight. With other people helping her, she had to depend on their version of clean, instead of her own, which was more OCD than anything.

“It’s very pre-Civil war,” Michael noted.

“It’s been in the family a long time.  There is a whole story behind it. When you feel the need to be bored out of your gourd, then come by and I’ll tell it to you.”

He laughed.  She was funny.  “I’ll do that.”

Her home was definitely authentic antebellum architecture.  There were shiny hardwood floors, tall ceilings, wide boxed archways and tons of antique furniture.  It was a pure southern home meant for a southern belle.  Perfect for her. 

Looking around as he walked her toward the den, he noticed how everything was in place.  Many of the pieces were from different eras, which suggested that the home had been in her family for quite some time. But everything blended together. 

She smiled as they arrived into the large, airy den.  There were some noticeable modern touches to the tall, crown molded ceilings.  An oak entertainment center sat mid-way off the back wall with a 70 inch television, media center and stereo.

Now this is more like it
, Michael thought to himself.  His new little home was much smaller; needless to say the smallest and most modest place that he’d ever lived in his entire life.  However, it did have character, or at least character building characteristics. 

Michael’s mind began to turn.  “So what are we doing in here?”

Without seeing his face, Hope knew that his mind was if not in, sitting near, the gutter.  She couldn’t lie, there were parts of her that had been untended to and regardless of how she tried to repress them had started to come alive at just the thought of them being alone.  She chuckled and rubbed the back of her neck as a naughty thought crossed her mind.  “You are going to help me…find my shoes,” she giggled.  “They are somewhere in here, but the room is pretty big. And then, we’re going to the park.”

Michael eyed her pink Nike’s in the corner.  Leaving her side, he walked across the room and picked them up, while she sat down on the sofa.  Coming to her side, he knelt down in front of her and grabbed her foot gently.

“I can do it,” she said quickly.

But Michael didn’t let go. 

“Please, allow me,” he insisted, voice deep and full of strain. 

She sat back and crossed her hands.  “Alright.”  Hope could feel his large hands around her calf and foot.  She could also smell his cologne and sweat competing for equal aroma.  

Swallowing hard, she felt herself getting lightheaded.

With care, he ran his hand up her leg and wrapped his fingers gently around her muscular calf.  Trying hard to focus on the rest of her supple thighs and the perfect V-shape between them, he slipped the little gym shoe onto her socked-foot, applying just enough pressure to make sure that it was completely on.

“How does that feel?” he asked, gazing up into her eyes.

“Perfect,” she said, barely above a whisper. Never had anything so small been so intimate.

A smile crept across his mouth.  Pleased with himself when he saw the attraction looming on her warm face, he did the same for the other foot. 

Taking a deep breath, she bit her lip.  “Thank you.”

Michael wanted to stay there on his knees in front of her, but he pushed himself to stand.  “So where to?”

“The park,” she answered. “It’s only about five miles away.”

“Well, then, we’ll need transportation. I’ll just go and get my truck.”  He looked around and clasped his hands together in front of him.  “Right.  You stay here and I’ll be right back with the truck.”

She grinned, wishing she could see his face.  “I’ll be right here,” she said playfully. 

Nearly sprinting out of the den, he headed out of the house as fast as his feet would take him.

Chapter 8

What the hell was that?
  That was the only question that continued to ring in Hope’s head when she was finally left alone. 

Sitting on the sofa in complete darkness, she suddenly didn’t feel so alone.  This man who had just swept in her life over night was proving to be quite an adventure.  

Truthfully, she was grateful for just a few minutes of alone time while Michael went to get his truck from next door.  If nothing else, she needed to wipe the sweat forming on her upper lip – a nervous tick that she could not help.   And if time permitted, she needed to pull herself together after such an intense interaction.
Certain parts of her felt suddenly moist and alive.

Just a shoe, it was supposed to be just a shoe.  But it wasn’t.

Something about his touch drove her insane. But it was more than his touch. It was his presence.   Just him being around, made her a completely different person.  It was as if her molecules reconfigured around him. 

It was as if he knew that she had spent the entire night thinking about him, praying that he would show up for no particular reason at all.  And he had done just that.  Under the guise of delivering mail, he had delivered something else.

Courage. 

Courage to put Sean behind her.

And faith that all men were not dogs.

Now, back to freshening up.
  Patting her hair, she cringed at how truly frizzy it was.  “Good grief,” she said, imagining how she must look with someone else doing her hair.  Running her fingers through it, she pulled at the small tangles and cuffed it around her shoulders, then raised her arms and checked one more time before he returned to make sure that she was pleasant, especially since she had not been running today. 

“Stay calm,” she barked at herself, hearing the house phone ring at the same time.

With a few movements, she was up.  But the sound of the phone echoed around the room. 
Where was it?  Argh!

Trying to move toward the sound of the phone, she finally gave up right before it went to voicemail. Whoever it was would just have to call back later. 

Making her way through the house guided by the dim lights and shadows, she vaguely picked up; she finally came to her make-shift bedroom, and felt around on her vanity for her perfume and brush.  She’d have to make do with trying to be as cute as she could by memory.  Spraying perfume on her chest, she heard him come through the door.

That was fast.

“Hope,” Michael called out.

She liked the way that he said her name.  “In here,” she answered, setting down her brush and at the same time knocking some of the other contents on the vanity onto the floor. Butterflies erupted again.  Feeling for her lip balm, she smeared it on quickly.

She could hear his large steps come towards her room.  With each single echo, her heart lurched more. 

Stop being nervous
, she said to herself.
He’s just a man.

Michael looked around her bedroom and smiled.  Again, another place in this magnificent home that felt like a warm blanket.  There was so much love in it, so much history.  

“It’s nice in here,” he said, walking up to her.  He found a certain amount of privilege in being in her bed chambers.  It gave him more clues about her life.  He liked the many colorful silk scarves, the checkered flower comforter, the warm green walls, the muted carpet and rugs, the antique lamps and the smell of sweet, intoxicating perfume.  It was like a garden. 

“Thank you. It’s not my real bedroom. That’s upstairs, but Bree brought my things down here until I get my sight back,” she said, seeing a shadow as he approached her.  “Oh my,” she gasped, hands over her mouth.

He paused.  “What?”
Did he not freshen up enough?

“I can see something,” she said with a bright smile.  Excitement rang in her voice like bells. “I can see…something!” 

“You can see me?” he asked, walking closer to her. 

“Shadows.  That’s progress, right?” 

Her smile was intoxicating.  “It is,” he said, taking her hand in his own and fighting the urge to kiss her.  “Are you ready to go?” he asked, moving a piece of her hair from her face. 

“Yes,” she said, letting him guide her. 

***

Michael was thankful for Hope’s blindness yet again as he looked in the rearview mirror. How else would she be able to ignore his entourage unless she was blind?  Pulling into the park, he eyed the black Yukon behind him. 
They could ruin a wet dream.
But Hope was in her own world.  She rather enjoyed the ride. All the way to the park, she kept her window down and her face toward the wind while he played 107.5 The Q.  He liked the station.  Its pop music kept the mood light with the exception of Hozier’s
Take Me to Church
.  Strangely, the tune reminded him of her. 

Putting the truck in park, he looked over at her and felt accomplished.  Whether she knew it or not, this was their first date. It was a first for him in many ways.  He’d never gone on a literal
blind
date before, never put on a woman’s shoe, never assisted a woman on such an intimate level and quite frankly never felt this way. 

Ready to get out and explore the park, Hope found the handle and opened the passenger door.

“Wait.  I’ve got that,” he said, quickly jumping out.  He waved off the men as he rounded the truck and mouthed,
go away
.  But he knew that as long as he was there, they would be there also.  

Michael looked up at the sky and the low dark clouds that were starting to form. Earlier it was a sunny morning with blue skies, but now rain was in forecast for the afternoon for sure.  Only, he didn’t want to tell her that.  What if she decided that she wanted to go back? 

Hope inhaled the strong, fragrant breeze that met her, picking her hair up and carrying it over her shoulders. “Mmm.  That feels so good,” she said, extending her arms.  “I can smell the freshly cut grass and everything.  It’s like a dream.” 

“First time out?” He shut the door behind her and locked the truck. 

“Yep, you just sprang me from jail.”  Her face was covered in glee.  “I bet its beautiful today, isn’t it?”

He couldn’t take his eyes off her.  “Very beautiful.” Michael meant it. She was absolutely breathtaking and as much a breath of fresh air as the breeze she enjoyed. 

“I love the walking trail. You can just lose yourself in it, you know.  No worries. No drama.  Just you and the trail.  When I’d come here alone, I’d pop in my ear buds and blast my iPod for hours.  Straight powerwalking.”

“Sounds like a Nike commercial,” Michael quipped.

“Don’t laugh.  It would be a great one.  Now, let’s
just do it
.” She giggled.  

Guiding her to the paved walking trail, they began their stroll.  Michael pulled down his baseball cap and slipped on his shades to ensure he was as discreet as possible, especially as they passed a few other runners. One young woman was especially nosy, however, making sure to make eye contact with him from nearly 20 feet away and until she passed him completely. 

Talk about forward.
  These southern women always pretended to be genteel, but since he had been here, he had found that they were some of the most forward and direct women on the planet.

At a comfortable pace, they made their way down the narrow path lined with magnolia trees, yellow honeysuckle flowers and green wooden benches.  Birds chirped from the tree limbs above, and dogs barked in the distance.  The entire park was peaceful and beautiful.  And it felt as though they were there completely alone. 

She clutched his hand tightly, like they were an old married couple, and relished in the blissful sounds of the afternoon. The plus for her was that more than ever, since she had been blinded, she really could
see
shadows in the daylight.  There was a quiet calm flourishing in her because of that fact, making the day even more of a dream.

Michael shared her feelings, unbeknownst to him.  “It really is a perfect day,” he finally said before realizing that he was even speaking aloud.  

“It is,” Hope answered in a soft whisper.  She turned towards him awash with pure gratitude. “Thank you for doing this.”  The only thing that would have made this more perfect for her would have been if she were able to see him, but she could feel him through his soothing voice and his graceful touch. 

Without her knowing, Hope was eliciting some indescribable joy in him. It was amazing that such a small gesture pleased her so.  Such humility.  In his history with women, they normally wanted incredibly expensive gifts or exotic trips to
seem
so pleased, yet all he had to do for her was put on her shoes, which had been perversely erotic for him,  and take her for a walk.  No money involved.  No trips. No name dropping. No airs.  Just time and those priceless resources that people in his position often took for granted. 
Quality time.  Precious words. Simple and non-assuming acts.

A chuckle escaped him.  “I can’t pretend that my intentions were completely honorable.  I just wanted to get you alone,” he confessed.  “I wanted to know more about the girl behind the door.  Something about you has me besotted.”

Hope found his word choice odd, but she appreciated the compliment all the same. “I’m glad your intentions were less than honorable then.”

“Really?” He wanted so at that moment for her to expound upon her surprising statement. True, she had been open to his advances, but he wasn’t sure that she was as enamored with him as he was with her…until now.  

The walk began brisk but it was slowing with each enlightening lap, not because either was tiring out, but neither wanted it to end. 

Finally getting the nerve, she turned her head toward him.

“Tell me about you, Michael.  Where are you from? What do you do?” she asked like she was begging for the secrets to eternal life. 

Shit.
  Michael wanted to avoid those questions though he knew it would be impossible. If he wanted to get closer to her, he would have to allow her to get closer to him. Only he didn’t want to lie. Not to her. 

Hope Daniels was special, more special than any of the other women before her. If anything, he needed to find a way to be more honest than he’d ever been.  His brother’s words echoed in his head again, taunting him.  And for the first time, he felt like he could prove Richard wrong.  He was not just a beautiful mess.  And a woman could love him for more than being just a prince. But right now, he was putting the cart before the horse.

He scratched his stubbly beard.  “I’m…not from around here.”

Hope giggled, like she was letting him in on a little secret. “Oh, I know.”

“You know?” he asked, brow raised. 

“Your imitation of a southern accent sucks.  Maybe not for someone who isn’t from around here, but for us natives who were born with it, it’s pretty awful to hear you pretend.”

Michael deflated until she laughed.

“I was going to let you go with it until you felt comfortable enough to tell me the truth.  Plus, I thought it was cute.”

Michael laughed.  She was full of surprises.
Smart. Beautiful.  Witty.
  “I thought I pulled off the southern charm quite well,” he said, speaking in his English accent. 

Wow! That felt good.
  He was no actor, but after six weeks of pretending to be something that he was not, he had a new found appreciation for their craft.

Hope picked up on the extreme deviation from his poorly crafted southern drawl and the natural flow of his normal tongue.  “So where are you from really?”

“I’m from England,” he answered coyly. “London.”

“All hail the king.”  She didn’t know that she had hit the nail directly on the head.

Michael froze. 
Did she know his other secret as well?

“So, where in London?” she continued, completely missing his quiet hysteria. 

The tension immediately eased in his broad shoulders when he knew that his secret was still safe.  But it did raise another interesting question, one that had to be quickly answered. 
How did one explain a residence at Buckingham Palace? 
“I’d like to think that I’m from the heart of it,” he said with a smug grin.  Every man had to have a few secrets, right?

She frowned now, trying to put the pieces together.  His story still didn’t make sense. “Why the accent though?  Why not just be a guy from London?”

“Oh, that’s a long story. Let’s just say that I’m hiding out.”

“From the police?” Now she was intrigued.  Has she met a real international criminal? 

“No, from my family, from my friends and my life,” he answered truthfully. “I needed a break from it all.  So, I came here.”

Her voice hardened.  Was it all lies?  “Is your real name Michael?”

His voice softened. “Yes.”

The domino effect created so many questions for her; she didn’t know where to begin. “What do you do?”

A Richard question. “I’m finding myself.”  He slipped his free hand in his pocket. “But I am looking for a job.” And a wife, he thought inwardly.