Leopold: Part Four (6 page)

Tears well in my eyes as I realize what I’m doing. Again. I somehow find my voice. “I need it to be over, Leo. I can’t…I can’t let myself be hurt again.”

His hand slides down my bare arm and he takes my hand in his as he presses his lips to my shoulder. “Hurting you is
not
something I want to do.”

“But—”

“No
buts
, Elle. I want nothing more than to show you how much you mean to me. How much the time we’ve spent together has changed me.”

“Leo…” My eyes flutter closed as his lips move across my shoulder to my neck.

“Let me show you what you mean to me, Elle. And if you still don’t believe me, I’ll leave if you ask. But if you should change your mind…” He brings his other hand to my bare shoulder, pressing his lips against my neck until I arch against him.

I turn to face him, reaching up to the sides of his face and pulling his lips against mine. He deepens our kiss, sliding his arms around my waist.

As my fingers trail to his neck, fumbling with the buttons at the top of his shirt, he backs me toward the wall.

I pull at the bottom of his shirt, untucking it from his pants. He releases me for only a second, barely breaking our kiss to lift his still mostly-buttoned shirt over his head before he tosses it to the floor.

“Leo…” My breaths are ragged and I can barely get even his name out. But I can tell from the heat pooling in my midsection that I’m about to lose control again. About to lose my mind to lust.

His fingers find my bare shoulders again and even this small touch has a fire burning beneath my skin.

And I’m torn. Part of me wants him inside me
now
—I don’t know how or why my body does what it does around him, but the strength of my desire for him is something that is still as uncomfortable as it is overwhelming.

But the other part of me… I want this night to last as long as it possibly can. I want him to… I want
us
to last as long as possible.

I sink to my knees in front of him, unfastening his belt and the button at his waist. My hand grazes against the bulge in his pants as I reach to uncover it, licking my lips as I prepare to take him in my mouth.

But he catches my wrist before I can expose anything. He’s looking down at me, his mouth open as though he means to say something, but he doesn’t. Instead, he reaches down and lifts me to my feet, kissing me gently as he moves us both to the bed.

He guides me onto my back, raining soft kisses on my neck, my cheeks, my forehead, then my lips as he moves to cover my body with his.

He reaches up and strokes my hair as he looks down into my eyes. “Elle, you have no idea how long I’ve waited for this.” There’s something…odd in his expression. I can’t quite pinpoint what it is, but it isn’t something I recognize.

My mouth falls open as I meet his gaze. I reach up to touch his face, trying to memorize every line, every detail this time. There might be a place deep inside me that wants this to last—to never end—but the practical part of me knows it will. And I want to remember as much of it as I can.

He takes my hand in his again and kisses each of my fingers one by one before he flips my hand over, kissing the inside of my wrist. Slowly, so very, very slowly, his lips trail kisses up my arm until he’s at my shoulder, then my neck. He presses his lips to the space just below my ear for a moment before he takes my other hand and repeats the process on the other side.

And I’m on fire. Each time his lips find my skin, it’s like some spring inside me coils itself a little tighter. By the time his lips find mine again, I feel like a wild animal, almost clawing at him for release. I wrap my legs around him and try to reach for his waist, almost desperate to remove his pants that still separate the skin of his lower body from mine.

His mouth covers mine for a moment before he pulls away, sitting himself up as he reaches into his pocket, pulling out a condom before he finally maneuvers himself out of his pants.

He looks down at me for a moment, touching the top of my thigh as his eyes skim over my body. “God, you’re beautiful, Elle.” He smiles, tilting his head as reaches down to expertly flick open my bra.

I wrap my legs around his waist again, pulling him toward me as I lift myself to kiss him again. I’m not sure how much longer I can play this game—I’m not sure how he’s done this to me again at all, but I want him inside me. I
need
him inside me. Now.

His lips meet mine only briefly before he pulls away to look into my eyes. He hooks his thumbs around the top of my panties before he slides them down as much as he can. I have to unwrap my legs from his waist to help wriggle myself out of them, but his eyes never leave mine.

He stares at me long enough—not doing anything else—that it becomes a little uncomfortable.

He must sense it, and he smiles. “Elle, I—”

I lift a finger to his lips, quieting him. My voice is nothing but a ragged whisper. “Leo, no talking. We…we have to be quiet.” I hate that I’m so concerned about my fellow dormitory residents hearing us, but if I can hear everything on the other side of the wall next to me, I know the person in there can hear what’s going on in my room, too.

I let out another few more tortured breaths. “I…I need you. I need you
right now
. Quietly, though.” He has no idea how close I am already. How if I so much as grind against him I’m going to shatter to pieces in an instant.

He grins, dropping his voice to match mine. “Oh, Elle, you have no idea how much I want to hear you scream my name when you come tonight.” He reaches for the condom he pulled from his pocket, sliding it on before he covers my body with his again.

He kisses my neck before he whispers in my ear. “And you
will
cry my name, Elle. So many times tonight…” His lips find mine again, almost like he’s trying to drown out the sound he knows is about to come from my mouth as soon as he’s inside me.

I return his kiss, wrapping my arms and legs around him again as I pull him closer, and he rocks himself inside me in a single motion. It seems to only be a second before I find myself teetering at the edge of bliss.

And he must know—he must be able to feel it. He lifts himself away from me the slightest bit—which feels like torture in itself—but only enough to slide his hand between my legs. The moment his thumb finds my clit, I explode.

He holds me as the waves crash over me, covering my mouth with his to drown out my cries of pleasure. His arms wrap around me as he slowly rocks into me again and again. It’s almost as if he’s cradling me as I come back down to earth.

He groans softly into my neck as his release follows a few moments later. He turns to his side, pulling me against him as he catches his breath.

He presses a kiss to my lips before he pulls away and looks into my eyes. His voice is only a whisper. “I’m going to take care of this condom, then I’m going to make love to you again.”

My eyes flutter closed and I nod, still trying to find my breath.

Leo slides off the bed and walks into the bathroom before I realize what he just said.

Make love
.

I know he didn’t mean it that way, but it’s still nice to hear. It’s obvious whatever it is between us—this weird chemistry we seem to have—is something more than just great sex. But that’s all it can be. That’s all I’m going to allow it to be.

I grab the blanket from the floor and pull it over myself before he returns to the bed. Great sex is enough. And I’m going to memorize every last detail of this night—our last night together.

W
e somehow manage
to have sex three more times before we finally wear ourselves out. He holds me in his arms, and we cling to each other in the tiny bed as he whispers in my ear. “Let me have this weekend with you, Elle. We had a date tonight on your terms. Now let me show you a proper royal date experience.”

I laugh softly, still trying to keep my voice low. “What exactly is a
proper royal date experience
, Leo?”

He strokes my hair and presses a kiss to my temple. “Allow me to show you on my terms. Please?”

It’s against my better judgment, but I nod as my eyes flutter closed from exhaustion. I should end it now—send him on his way. But the thought of having him to myself for another day makes my heart do things I’d rather not admit. And the thought of having him inside me one last time is too much to resist.

Make love
. The thought of having him make love to me again…

“Okay, Leo. As long as you have me back here tomorrow so I can get to my interview in Oklahoma on Tuesday. It’s a long drive.”

He kisses my temple once more and I can feel him nod as I drift off to sleep. “Whatever you wish, Elle. Anything for you.”

I
wake
up with one thought on my mind:
today is my chance, and I intend to make it count.

I roll over and look at Elle. She’s still sleeping, and a wisp of her hair has fallen across her lips. It rises and falls with the slow, steady flow of her breath.

God, she’s beautiful.
And so
real.
I’m not sure I realized it until I saw her again yesterday, but there’s something unspeakably
genuine
about her. She doesn’t pretend to be anything other than what she is. Even when she tries to hide her emotions, even when she hints at having secrets I can’t understand, I know every time I look into her eyes I’m seeing the truth. She’s afraid—she’s been hurt and betrayed—but still I feel as if I can see the woman beneath the pain. The one who is generous and passionate and fully alive.

I reach over and gently brush away that stray bit of hair. Though I hardly touch her, she still stirs. A moment later, her eyes flutter open.

“Good morning,” I murmur.

A lazy smile spreads across her lips, sending a rush of warmth through me.

“Good morning,” she whispers back.

I lean down and brush my lips against hers. “Are you ready for the continuation of our date?”

She gives a small laugh and tugs the sheets up over her breasts—though why she should be embarrassed
now
is beyond me.

“What time is it?” she asks.

I lean over the side of the bed and find my trousers, fishing my mobile phone out of the pocket. “It’s nearly noon.”

“Noon?!” she says, sitting straight up. “I had no idea it was so late.”

“We both needed some sleep,” I say, sliding my arm around her and pulling her toward me. “We had quite a bit of exercise last night.”

A fresh blush blooms across her cheeks. “Still. I can’t remember the last time I slept this late.” She pulls out of my arms and slides to the edge of the bed. She continues to hold the sheet up around her as she grabs her clothes from the floor.

“There’s nothing wrong with indulging in a little extra sleep,” I say. “Besides, I want you well rested. I have quite the day planned for us.”

She looks over her shoulder at me, a tentative smile playing across her lips. “What sort of things do you have planned?”

“If I told you, dear Elle, that would ruin the surprise.” I rise from the bed—not caring that I haven’t a stitch on—and casually gather my clothes. “But prepare to be swept off your feet.”

One of her eyebrows goes up. “Now I’m getting nervous.”

“No need to be. You’re about to get the full royal date experience.”

She rolls her eyes, but her grin stretches even wider. “Okay, now you’re just being cheesy on purpose.”

“Cheesy? Me? Never.” I raise my mobile. “I’m going to call Matthias and ask him to bring the car around in a few minutes.”

“At least give a girl time to get dressed,” Elle says, still clutching the sheet to her as she hurries over to her closet.

“Clothing is optional,” I say.

She laughs and throws something at me. A rolled up pair of socks.

“I’m assuming you’ll at least give me time to brush my teeth?” she says. “And do something with my hair?”

“Don’t bother with the hair,” I say. “I plan on messing it up again shortly.”

She throws another ball of socks at me before grabbing her things and scurrying into the bathroom. The sheet parts as she makes her escape, flashing me a delightful glimpse of her round bottom, and I grin to myself as she closes the bathroom door behind her.

I give Matthias a call as I pull on my clothes. After I’ve made our arrangements, I wander over to the small dresser across from the bed. There are a number of things scattered across the surface, but I’m looking for one thing and one thing only.

I pause, listening. I can still hear the sink running in the bathroom, but I probably don’t have very long.

Where would she keep it?
I look through the odds and ends on her dresser, then glance around the room. There isn’t a desk here, so I’m not sure where she’d stash her important papers and such. I’m used to other people handling such things.

Maybe her delicates drawer?
Some women hide important things in there. Normally I wouldn’t sift through a woman’s private things—I’m above such a crass, perverted action—but this is important.

The water is still running. This is my only chance.

Quickly, I pull open the top drawer. Inside, I see several rows of carefully rolled delicates.

Don’t look at them, Leo. As much as you want to, don’t look.

Hell, who am I kidding? I feel a grin spread over my face as my eyes drift over her pretty little undergarments.
Hopefully, I’ll get to see her in some of these soon.

But as much as I’d like to let my gaze linger, I’m looking for something important. I reach into the back of the drawer, pushing the lacy bits of fabric aside. There—a small bundle of papers.

I carefully pull them out.

Birth certificate, copies of insurance documents, her medical licensing information, papers regarding her house in California…and
there.
Her passport.

The water has stopped running. I stuff the rest of the papers back into the drawer and slip the passport into my pocket.

Better not to break any international laws, not if it can be avoided.

I’ve closed the drawer and spun back around by the time Elle emerges from the bathroom. She’s still tying her hair back in a ponytail when she looks over at me and smiles.

Pleasure flutters in my chest.
She doesn’t even have to touch me. Just a look and I feel myself coming apart.

“Matthias should be here any moment,” I tell her. “Just let me brush my teeth and we’ll be on our way.”

My fingers slide over my pocket as I pass her, but her passport is safely tucked away. No reason to take any chances.

A few minutes later, as promised, Matthias appears outside with the car. I take Elle’s hand and help her inside.

“Are you ready?” I ask her as I slide in beside her.

“For the full
royal date experience
? I’m not sure.” She turns and glances out the window as the car begins to move. “When are you going to tell me where we’re going? There isn’t much to do around here, as you discovered last night.”

“I’m glad you agree,” I say. “Which is why I hope you’ll consent to taking the jet.”

Her head jerks around. “I told you, I have an interview on Tuesday—”

“Which is why I thought New York might be a nice option. Or Miami. Or perhaps Los Angeles—there’s a new restaurant there I’ve been dying to try.”

She looks somewhere between annoyed and impressed. She shakes her head, turning to look back out the window. “I should have known you’d pull something like this.”

“Well, you can hardly have the full
royal date experience
here,” I say, gesturing at the passing scenery. “There isn’t a five-star restaurant within a hundred miles of here.”

She looks like she wants to roll her eyes at me again—and a little like she’s holding back a smile.

“Fine,” she says. “Take me wherever you like. But I have to be in Oklahoma by Tuesday.”

“Understood.” I realize my fingers have subconsciously moved to my pocket, and I quickly pull them away.

Elle still looks a little wary as we pull up to the small private airport where my plane is waiting, but there’s a gleam in her eyes as I help her out of the car.

This has to be the first time I’ve ever been nervous on a date.
Even my attempt at cooking her a meal in her home didn’t make me this anxious—perhaps because I know, deep down, that this is my final chance. If I don’t convince Elle to trust me tonight, I never will. She’s already given me too many chances.

I glance over at her as I lead her across the runway to our transportation for the day. Her hand is in mine, and I’m pleased that, at this moment, she’s decided to trust me.

She pauses at the foot of the small staircase leading up to the cabin. There isn’t room for us to go up the stairs side by side, so I place her hand on the railing.

“Ladies first,” I tell her.

She looks over at me—for the briefest of moments I fear she’s going to tell me she’s changed her mind, that she wishes to go back to her dormitory—but then without a word, she starts to make her way up the stairs. I make every attempt to keep my eyes from her figure as she climbs the steps in front of me—I’m supposed to be a gentleman, after all—but I don’t manage very well.

When we reach the cabin, she stops just inside the door.

I’ll be the first to claim that the interior of my personal plane is quite impressive. My father gave me this plane when I turned eighteen, but I’ve had the interior redesigned twice in the years since as my tastes matured. It’s currently decorated in a contemporary style. One side of the cabin serves as a lounging area—complete with modern cushioned chairs and a sofa that slides out into the most comfortable of beds, all upholstered in soft, pale gray leather. The other side offers many conveniences—a kitchen and bar, a large closet, and even a desk for those times I’m feeling particularly responsible. The walls of the cabin are a shade lighter than the sofa and chairs, and the carpet beneath our feet is plush and ivory in hue. I designed the whole thing to be modern but also inviting and tranquil—the sort of place that encourages you to kick off your shoes and sink into comfort.

Elle steps forward, looking around her. Her face is impassible, so I stay at the door, waiting to see how she reacts.

She walks slowly down the length of the cabin, every so often reaching out to touch something—brushing her fingers along the marble countertop of the bar, running her hand across the back of one of the lounge chairs. She pauses at the desk, where I left a couple of books I’d been attempting to read on the flight over. I’ve always enjoyed reading—though I admit I much prefer making my own adventures in the world—but even books couldn’t distract me these past few months.

She stops again at the small table near the far end of the room, where Matthias—on my orders—has left two dozen crimson roses and a chilled bottle of the finest champagne.

Finally, I can’t take it any longer.

“What do you think?” I ask her.

She turns slowly back toward me. Her lips open and close, and her gaze floats around the room once more before coming to rest on me again.

“I’m sure you’ve impressed a lot of women with this plane,” she says finally.

I take a careful step forward. “I don’t want to talk about other women, Elle. What do
you
think?”

She glances over at the sofa. “I’ve never been on a plane like this before. It’s interesting.”

Interesting.
In most circumstances, that would hardly be considered an insult, but I refuse to let her see how much the word stings me. Her face still hasn’t betrayed a hint of emotion, and I take another step forward.

“Out of curiosity,” she says, “how many women
have
you had on this plane?”

This is not a line of questioning I intend to let her pursue.

“There is only one woman I’m interested in right now, Elle,” I tell her, taking another step forward. “And I don’t intend to talk about anyone else today.”

“It’s not that simple,” she says. “You can’t just show me your fancy plane and give me roses and expect me to forget about who you are or that you’ve done this for a hundred women before me.”

Another step. “That’s not my expectation at all. I’m giving you these things simply because I want to. Because you deserve to be treated to a day of luxury. You spend your entire life giving to other people—your patients, your brother, your past lovers—and yet you refuse to let anyone give anything to you.”

She frowns. “It’s too much. I’m not the sort of girl who needs roses and champagne.”

“Nobody
needs
those things.” Another step. “And that’s exactly why I want you to have them. They’re purely frivolous. Things to have and enjoy entirely for the pleasure of having and enjoying them.”

I’ve reached the closet, and I stop, reaching out to the door. Perhaps it is too much to keep lavishing her with gifts—considering she’s resistant to accept something as simple as roses—but on the other hand, I refuse to let her act like she doesn’t deserve these things. I pull open the closet door.

Inside are several of my suits—and a full tuxedo, in case I should find one necessary—but there are also several dresses of various lengths and materials, everything from a simple black silk cocktail dress to a silver beaded gown. Each one is of the highest quality, custom made to fit her.

“Today,” I tell her, “I want you to experience what it’s like to be pampered. To allow yourself to accept extravagant gifts simply because they’re extravagant. To indulge yourself. And to allow someone else to indulge you.”

Her mouth has fallen open at the sight of the dresses, but when she sees me watching her, her lips snap shut again. For the briefest of moments, I see something in her eyes—but I cannot tell what it is.

She spins away from the closet—and me.

I slide the closet door closed again, worried. I knew I would have a difficult time convincing Elle to accept these things from me, but a part of me still hoped for a different response. I take a deep breath.
This is not how these things normally go.
But then again, Elle is so very different from anyone I’ve ever dated before. What do I do now?

Before I can respond to her, Matthias enters the cabin.

“Everything should be ready for our departure, Your Highness,” he says. “Have we decided where we’re headed this evening?”

“Not yet.” I turn back to Elle. “I wanted today to be all about you, Elle, so I took the liberty of making dinner reservations at several places across the country and thought I’d allow you to choose. So which will it be? Miami? Los Angeles? New York? We also have hor d’oeuvres here on the plane to tide us over until we arrive at our destination.”

She’s standing in front of the roses again, and she reaches out and brushes her fingers against one of the crimson petals.

“I…” She pauses. “I don’t want to go back to Los Angeles. There are too many reporters there.”