The Princess and the Bodyguard (7 page)

“The right height for me to take you from behind. Bend over the bed for me, darling.”

When she complied, he placed a hand on her back, as if he had to hold her there. Then, using his leg, he nudged hers wider. He didn’t remove his own robe, merely opened it. When he pulled the flaps back, his cock sprang free. He rubbed it against the crack in her ass.

“Alex?”

“Mmm? Worried, love?”

“No, only curious. And horny.”

He chuckled, then groaned in response to the wonderful arousal that coursed through him from rubbing his engorged cock against her ass. How fortunate he had fallen in love with a woman who became a true voluptuary in the bedroom.

“What do you want, Hannah?”

“You. Inside me.”

She moved her bottom against him, and he spread his hands over her ass, then settled them on her hips and squeezed.

“Inside where?” He reached for the drawer of the bedside table. Before they’d showered, he’d pulled several condoms out of one box, separated them, and laid them on top of the other boxes. He’d put some in the table on the other side of the bed, too. Smiling, he made a quick mental note to carry a few down to his office, just in case. Grabbing one now, he tore open the packet and slipped the sheath on.

“Do I have a choice?”

“Do you want one?” He kept up a gentle stroking with his hand. Now he drew his hand back and stroked her opening with his penis.

“Yes. This time.”

“All right.” He sighed. “Oh, the possibilities we have to explore together, my Hannah, are very interesting, indeed.” He changed the angle of his thrust, and his cock found its place between the folds of her labia. He smiled, thinking his penis at the door, asking her clit to come out and play.

“That feels
so good
.”

“Mmm, it does, and in a moment I’m going to slide my cock very deep inside your pussy and fuck you long and hard and deep. And fast. If that’s where you want me.”

“Yes, I want you there. I want to be able to squeeze you.”

“Then that’s where you shall have me. This time. But Hannah?”

“Yes?”

“You make me think of alternatives, and new experiences, and I think I may be one up on other men.”

“I’ve thought so since the first moment me met.”

Alex laughed softly. “In this instance, though, I meant the fact that I have an actual dungeon at my disposal.”

“Oh God.
Alex
!”

He caressed her back, then around and under her until he had a breast in each palm. He moved his hips slightly. She was so wet for him he buried himself within her in one smooth move.

“Squeeze me, then. Ah, yes, like that.”

“You feel so good inside me. So hot and hard and…I need…” Her voice trailed off to a whimper.

He was a man used to the vagaries of power, but nothing had ever felt as powerful as knowing he could reduce Hannah to unintelligible groans and whimpers simply by loving her. He kept thrusting, increasing the pace because he couldn’t do otherwise. The sound of flesh slapping flesh mixed with the basic scent of sex took him higher. He knew she neared her orgasm. Deep within, he recognized the stirring of the primitive man. He fought the urge to simply plunder her mercilessly.

“Come for me, sweetheart. I want to feel you shiver down my length when you come.”

“
Yes!
”

His words hurled them both over the edge. He felt the silken clasp of her sheath tighten and convulse around his penis, and he absorbed the overwhelming pleasure of her increased heat and moisture. Helpless to stop his own eruption, he groaned and held himself deep within her. Briefly, replete, he collapsed against her back, only distantly aware that her heart raced in concert with his.

“Oh, God.”

Alex quickly straightened his arms, lifting his weight off Hannah. “Was I too rough?” he asked, placing a kiss against the nape of her neck.

“No. Never. It keeps getting better.”

“Well, of course. It’s like my nanny always used to say. Practice makes perfect.”

The sound of her laughter covered him like a warm, loving caress. It was a sound he’d already found completely addictive.

* * * *

Rachel had grown used to eating breakfast alone. Occasionally, Philip would join her, especially if he had an early shift at the hospital. But she generally never saw anyone else for the morning meal.

Since coming home from Switzerland two years ago, she’d made it her habit to rise early. By six-thirty, she’d already spent a half hour in the gym, completed a brisk fifteen-minute swim, and was showered, dressed, ready for the day. Until recently, the challenge had been filling the rest of the day after breakfast.

“Will you have your usual, Your Highness?”

Rachel smiled up at Marie, one of several people who worked under Robert, the head chef, who poured her a large glass of orange juice.

“Yes, please. I’ve looked over your cousin’s resume. I thought I’d let you know that I’ve selected her to move on to the next step. I should be scheduling an interview with her in the next few days.”

“Thank you, Your Highness. My aunt will be so pleased to hear that! Dagmar has been having a hard time finding her place in life. But recently, it’s been like she’s a new woman, entirely. She became so very excited when she heard there might be a possibility of working for you. She went through some pretty wild times a few years back, but they are behind her now.”

Rachel could well sympathize. She knew what it was like to go through wild times and come out on the other side a changed woman.

“Tell your aunt that if all goes well, I’ll likely hire her to work in my shop.”

“A designer label from Boisdemer. It is exciting, no?”

“It is exciting, yes.”

Marie curtsied slightly then left to get Rachel’s usual breakfast—yogurt, a bran muffin, and coffee. Rachel spread her napkin on her lap and waited for the younger woman to return.

Although she sat with her back to the solarium’s door, she knew the instant Peter entered the room.

“You’re up early,” he said. He moved around the table, choosing to sit where he had the evening before, right across from her. Looking at him, it wasn’t obvious he’d had his tongue down her throat and his hardening cock pressed against her only a few short hours ago. For an instant, heat flared in his eyes, but he blinked, and it disappeared. Maybe he wasn’t so indifferent, after all.

Rachel kept her smile to herself when he frowned.
“Actually, I’m not. I’m usually here at this time of the morning. I can’t say I’ve ever run into you, though.”

She wondered what he was thinking. She was tired of this man throwing her off balance all the time. Perhaps two could play that game.

“I’ll have those prospective employee files on your desk by eight. In each case, the references have been verified. But I’ve not taken the next step of calling anyone in for an interview. I’ll wait until you’ve weeded out the potential stalkers, terrorists, and rabble-rousers.”

Rachel watched with interest as Peter’s hand, until now resting calmly on the table beside his place setting, pressed so hard against the cloth-covered surface that his knuckles whitened. “This isn’t something you should be taking lightly, Rachel,” he said tightly. “This is a serious situation. I don’t think these threats against you are a joke.”

Marie entered, carrying a tray, and Rachel swallowed back her retort.

“Oh, Mr. Jones,” the maid said, pausing before deftly settling Rachel’s breakfast in front of her. “I didn’t know you’d arrived.”

“I’m in no hurry, Marie.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Rachel picked up her spoon to attack her yogurt first. Marie poured coffee in her cup, then carried the pot around the table to fill Peter’s.

“Bacon or sausage this morning, sir?”

“Sausage, thanks.”

“You’re going to give yourself a heart attack eating greasy meat every morning,” Rachel said, unable to resist the urge to tease him.

“Bite your tongue. If Robert hears you refer to his five-star cuisine as greasy, he’ll have a fit.”

“Since you’re the only one in the household he cooks meat and eggs for every morning, I think he might agree with me. And I’m not taking the threat against me lightly, at all. I’ve been the soul of cooperation.”

“You know, Your Highness, a woman goes banging on a man’s bedroom door late at night, she’s taking her reputation in her hands. She can never know what might happen to her.”

Rachel had been ready for the non sequitur, but she felt a shiver run down her spine, regardless. His eyes and his tone both promised sensual delights, but she understood the warning he implied. She also knew he was fighting his attraction to her with Herculean effort. That, she
couldn’t
understand. What red-blooded, healthy, hetero man would refuse what she offered? She knew she wasn’t ugly. Maybe he wasn’t really hetero.

“Are you gay?”

“No, I’m not gay.”

“Well, good. That would have thrown a spanner into the works, as you English say.”

“I’m not English, I’m Canadian.”

“Same thing.” Oh, it was hard not to smile when Peter gritted his teeth and came close to losing his cool. She set aside her yogurt and picked up her muffin. Downing the last of her coffee, she made the decision to sacrifice the rest of her breakfast time in favor of a strategic withdrawal. The scene only needed a final, parting shot.

Tilting her head in what she hoped was a coquettish pose, she said, “You’re right, though. You can never know what might happen. Especially since I’ve decided that I’m not so much a woman of the new millennium as I had hoped. Who knew I could be old-fashioned? Anyway, darling, the next move is yours. But please, don’t wait too long. Wanting, and doing without, is painful. For both of us. And in this case, the pain is completely unnecessary.”

She didn’t wait to see what affect her words had. She simply beat a hasty retreat to her apartment and to the work that awaited her there.

Peter’s temper rose by the minute.

The little minx could have brought these folders down to him personally. But no, she’d dragooned her maid Gina into delivering them.

The next time he saw her, he would—what? Closing his eyes, he massaged the bridge of his nose and faced the sad truth. He was fast coming to the end of his rope where Rachel de la Croix was concerned.

So why not take what she offered?

Getting up from his desk, he walked over to the window where he could watch the grounds staff hard at work in the garden. Slipping his hands into his pockets, he let his thoughts wander back.

When he’d come to Boisdemer, he’d never intended to stay more than a year. He’d stayed three in England, a record for him since leaving home. He’d believed himself a gypsy at heart and that the wanderlust must have come down to him from generations past, when his forebears had left Scotland to travel to the New World
.
Alex had offered him not only a job, but also the opportunity to be in charge. Quite a coup that, being in charge of a palace at twenty-six years old. He’d only planned to take over, whip the place in shape—no crown prince should
ever
have been allowed to roam the streets of a foreign city unprotected—then head off to the next stop, wherever that turned out to be. He used to call it moving on to BBTs, bigger and better things. But the strangest thing happened the minute he set foot in this country.

He’d felt like he’d come home.

He’d cut himself off from his own family, only to find a second one here. Alex was his boss, and a king, but he became a father to him in a way his own had never been. Wincing, Peter refused to back away from the guilt that thought brought. He’d needed things that his own dad hadn’t been able to give him.

His new family appeared to be as dysfunctional as any other he’d encountered. He felt very blessed, because at least he’d had a mother who’d loved and nurtured him, and it hadn’t taken him long to realize the de la Croix kids had not.

Now, he belonged here.

When he’d first set eyes on Rachel, he’d wanted her. It had taken no effort, however, to deny himself. At seventeen, she had in no way been ready for an adult relationship. And he’d gone about his business, he realized now, putting her out of his thoughts while the years had crept past. She’d grown, and matured, and yet he’d still held her in that compartment in his mind marked “untouchable.” He’d been so focused on
not
thinking about her, he’d totally missed the signs of her distress two years ago until it had nearly been too late. If Philip hadn’t put things together and alerted him, they might not have found Rachel in time. He could still envision clearly the grimy apartment outside of Geneva where they’d found her, unconscious on a filthy mattress on the floor. Philip had taken one look and rushed her to the hospital. The local constabulary had searched the house and found a ransom note, put two and two together, and arrested the two male inhabitants for conspiracy to commit kidnapping, among other things. One of the slimeballs, a guy by the name of Luc, had been the one who’d played at courting Rachel, who’d hooked her on drugs, then lured her to the house. The Swiss police had turned their backs for a few well-timed moments. Luc began his long prison sentence with a couple of broken ribs and a concussion. As far as Peter knew, Alex remained the only one who knew about that, and Rachel had never even been told the role he had played in locating her, or that he’d been there when she’d been found.

When Peter received the first letter threatening Rachel, he’d checked. Good old Luc remained in prison, doing time. The bastard. His buddy had gotten out of jail, only to be killed in a car accident a month later.

Running a hand through his hair, Peter sighed. Even now, he avoided thinking about Rachel as a woman he wanted in his bed.

Maybe the time had come to think about it, and think hard.

He really did believe she’d grow tired of him before long. And he sure as hell wasn’t the kind of man she could or even should marry.