The Royal Pain (13 page)

J
enny triple-checked the next day's itinerary. With the king in town, everything had gotten exponentially more complicated, and that was just the security detail. Fortunately, Edmund was in charge of finding amusing puzzles for the king; she just had to worry about scheduling.

But things looked good. Even better, she was in her favorite suit, a cranberry Anne Klein, with sheer black hose and sensible dark pumps. Jeans were just…weird.

Her cell phone buzzed, and she picked it up, expecting to hear an all's well night check from one of the guards. “Yes?”

“Jenn? It's Teal.”

“Oh…hello.” She nearly blushed when she remembered her actions earlier. It was apparently catching…wearing denim, seducing travel guides, the princess seeing someone, the king showing up unannounced…insanity! “What can I do for you, Teal?”

She had a horrible thought: he'd changed his mind! He wanted her to spend the night! And it would only be her fault, for giving him the wrong idea in the first place. Throwing herself at him like that. She shivered just thinking about it.

“Jenn? Hello? You still there?”

“Yes, I—I'm sorry. Go ahead. How can I help you?”

“Well, my brother's here, and if you're not too busy, I thought I'd bring him over to the hotel to meet you.” He lowered his voice. “He's dying to meet you.”

Relief flooded her like sweet wine. His brother! A social call! That she could handle. The week she'd been having, it was probably the only thing she could handle.

She checked her watch. Nine-thirty. Alex had bid her goodnight some time ago. Dr. Rivers would spend the night, or not, but either way, that door wouldn't open for at least three hours. And she
was
caught up on her paperwork. And she'd been technically off duty for almost an hour…“Are you sure? It's a little late for you, isn't it?”

“Don't sweat it, Mom.”

“Hush up. What I meant is, don't you have an early group tomorrow?”

“No, I blew those dumbasses off. My bro's here, so we're gonna do the town.”

“Oh. Well, come on over, then. I'll make sure security lets you up. I'm looking forward to meeting your brother.”

“I don't know why,” Teal grumped. “He's a dick.”

She laughed. Then she added, because it had happened to her many times before, “But you might tell him that the princess isn't receiving visitors until nine o'clock tomorrow.”

“It's not like that, Jenn. He wants to meet
you.
Don't ask me why. Well, if you did ask, I might 'fess up to how I rhapsodized about how your butt looks in brand-new Levi's.”

She rolled her eyes. “How can you use ‘dumbasses' and ‘rhapsodizes' in the same conversation?”

“It's a gift, bay-bee. See in you twenty.”

A nice man,
she thought, filing paperwork into overnight satchels.
Coarse, but nice…he didn't take advantage of my moment of weakness, so who cares how often he says ‘dumbass'? It's just too bad we don't have more in common. Anything in common
. She paused wistfully, staring off into space.
There must be someone out there who wouldn't resent my long hours, my devotion to the family…someone who—

She cut off the nonsense—in fact, there wasn't, and there was no use crying about it—and notified Security that there would be visitors.

S
he strained against the neckties, to no avail, of course—Dr. Rivers must have been a boy scout, or a sailor, because he could tie a helluva knot.

Right now the boy scout was licking the underside of her breast with careful attention, such careful attention that she thought she was going to go crazy. They'd been at it for hours, it seemed, she was more than ready for him, and still all he did was kiss and nibble and suck and lick and stroke, no matter how much she begged him, pleaded, ordered, demanded. She'd finally quit when he pleasantly informed her he was sure he could find something in the room that could be used as a gag.

Now he was kissing her mouth and she opened for him like his mouth was made of honey, and at the same time she felt his fingers slide into her, stroking her slick wetness, just barely coming into her, then withdrawing. Teasing, stroking, dipping. She strained against him, against her bonds, trying to force more of him into her, and he laughed into her mouth.

“What do you think the king would say if I planted a big hickey on your throat?” he asked.

“I don't care,” she groaned. “Please fuck me now, before I have a heart attack.”

“I think you're safe,” he replied. “If anyone in this room is in danger of an M.I., it's me. My God, you're so lush…you're like a banquet.” He pulled back and looked at her nude, spread-eagle body with unconcealed admiration. “Right now I'm the luckiest guy on the whole planet.”

He leaned down and cupped her other breast with one hand, sucking the swollen nipple into his mouth. She arched to meet him, knowing it wouldn't do any good, knowing she couldn't help it.

He worked his way down her writhing body, raining kisses on her and then flicking through her damp folds with his tongue.

He licked and kissed between her thighs for an excruciatingly lovely time, and she felt her middle clench, felt the familiar sensation of falling, and then she was crying out to the ceiling.

“I love that sound,” he said, coming up to her, taking his cock in one hand and beginning to ease into her. “God, I love that sound.”

“And I love…”
You. No. It's the moment.
Right? “…that. Oh, I love that. Wait. Stop.”

He did, at once. “What's the matter?”

“Come up here. Bring that up here.”

His eyes widened and then he grinned, a smile full of unrestrained lust, and climbed up, carefully settling his knees on either side of her head.

Her mouth opened and he eased past her teeth, already shuddering, and she sucked him all the way in, inhaling his scent, his dick, his everything.

“Oh jeeeeeeeeeeeeeezus,” he slurred, gently rocking back and forth. “Oh, God, you should be against the law. Oh God, your mouth…your mouth…”

She licked his salty tip, her tongue frantically padding against him, enjoying the feel of him in her mouth—this was something new, this was delightful, knowing he could be rough with her and wasn't, knowing he could push himself all the way into her throat and she couldn't stop him. It made his care almost mind-bogglingly erotic. It made her suck as hard as she could. It made her—

Abruptly he jerked out, leaving her gasping. “Was I hurting you?” she groaned.

“Not hardly. About two more seconds of that,” he panted, easing down her body, “and we'd be done.”

“Perish the…” was as far as she got because he was filling her up, slowly and tenderly, as though she might break, as though he might

love you

care for her, and she whimpered as he pressed forward.

“Oh, God,” she managed, and then couldn't talk, didn't want to talk as his tongue swept into her mouth, as he filled her up, stroked, thrust, sped up, as she came again and again, as he shivered over her, as he buried his face in her throat, as he whispered something she did not understand, on purpose.

S
ecurity buzzed her and let Jenny know that Teal and his brother were coming up, so she went to stand by the elevator, exchanging a pleasant greeting with Krenklov on the way.

She smoothed her skirt and her hair, and when the elevator dinged and the doors started to wheeze open, she had a smile ready. A smile which instantly froze on her face.

“Hi, Jenn. This is my brother, Crane.”

She said nothing.

Crane held out a manicured hand. The nails were neatly short, and buffed. She stared at it. “A great pleasure to meet you,” he rumbled. “Teal's told me so many great things about you.”

A short, difficult silence followed.

“Anyway,” Teal said finally, giving her a strange look, “we thought we'd pop by, try to talk you into coming out for a beer. Not that you drink beer. Maybe a coffee? We can probably find a place that'll serve coffee without drowning it in whipped cream…”

“There's an excellent wine bar about six blocks from here,” Crane said. “I had a 1944 Sauternes there.”

Jenny's tongue felt frozen in her mouth.

“Of course, the port from that year was dreadful.”

“You—”

Teal rolled his eyes. “I know, what a fucking stiff! ‘Dreadful,' who says dreadful?”

“Someone with a more developed brain than you, little brother,” Crane retorted.

“Shut the hell up. Jenn, are you going to shake his hand or is it going to just hang in the air all night?”

She shook the hand, which was strong and smooth at the same time. “I'm—I'm very pleased to meet you.” She glanced over at his brother and hissed, “You didn't tell me you had an identical twin!”

Teal shrugged. “Why?”

“I'm afraid I'm a bit of the family black sheep,” Crane said politely, staring at her with green, green eyes. “Everyone else works outdoors as trainers or guides or what-have-you. I rebelled a bit.”

“Went fag is more like it,” Teal said helpfully.

She took in the dark suit, the white shirt, the polished black shoes, the clean-shaven features. “Wh—what do you do?” she asked, staring up at him with helpless longing.

“I'm third violin for the Boston Symphony.”

“Symphony,” she breathed, swaying on her heels.

“Yes, well, I'm afraid I'm out here sulking, I missed my shot at second chair. My brother offered to cheer me up, and so here I am.”

“That's great. I mean awful. Very very awful. You know, there's a symphony in Anchorage. And the king has wanted to get one started in Juneau. But it's difficult to get musicians to come all that way.”

He smiled down at her. “Really? I can't think of a single reason not to go.”

Ohhhhhhhhhhhh…

“Beer? Wine? Tequila? Anything? You guys? Hello?”

“Do you know, you look extraordinarily like the ballerina Greta Hodgkinson?”

She gasped. “You know, I've always thought so!”

“T
his place,” Teal said, “is the worst. I mean, it blows. It blows rocks.”

“Hush, Teal,” Crane said, almost absently, staring raptly into Jenny's eyes.

“We had to drive almost two hours to get here? Jesus.”

“Yes,” Jenny said. “Hush.”

“For Christ's sake,” he grumped, reading the menu again, which still only had three entrees on it. Three! Any decent restaurant had pages and pages of menu you could flip through. “You can't even get a burger here!”

“Ohhh, how wonderful,” Jenny breathed. “No burgers.”

“But they have a lovely marbled strip steak, which they serve with the most cunning béarnaise sauce…I think it has a hint of chervil in it. It's nothing I've been able to put my finger on…”

“Oh, delicious,” Jenny said. “I'd like to have that, please. Except on bread; skip the steak.”

“And I
don't
want something that looks like the dog threw up on it before they brought it to my table,” Teal griped. “Isn't anything in this place plain, for a working man? I mean, shee-it.”

His twin and his friend looked at him with identical reproachful expressions, and Teal almost shuddered. Usually, his ideas were in the majority—Crane was definitely the black sheep of the family. And whatever friend they were hanging out with—like Shel, for instance—usually blew off the fancy sauces, especially if they were cheese-based.

Now, for the first time in his life, Crane was in the company of people who held the class-based high ground—and knew it. He felt like shriveling in his chair. Which pissed him off. Which made him feel like talking more.

“I mean, why fuck up a perfectly good piece of red meat? Why fancy it up with all that shit? Why not just throw it on the grill for ten minutes on each side and you're all set? Maybe with some mashed on the side…”

Jenny shivered and Crane patted her hand. “You can't overcook red meat, Teal. All the flavor will be lost. And the sauce works in concert with the full-bodied flavor of the meat. Assuming you even want red meat.”

“Too true,” Crane said, nodding, “and if you serve it with anything, it should be with something a little more delicate, in contrast to the robust texture of the meat.”

“Like sautéed morel mushrooms,” Jenny added. “Or, out of season, perhaps straw mushrooms. And perhaps some sautéed baby spinach on the side.”

“That sounds heavenly,” Crane breathed.

“Great. A serving of mold next to my pile of dog barf.”

“Hush,” they both murmured.

“Christ on a stick,” Teal grumbled. The waiter edged over and—and! They talked about wine for. Ten. Minutes. Red wine, white wine, oaked wine, whatever the fuck that was. Ice wine, which wasn't appropriate until dessert, assuming he made it that long.

Finally…finally! Crane and Jenn had ordered their glasses, and the waiter was looking at him expectantly.

“Do you speak beer?” he asked him.

“Yes, of course,” the waiter said, and Teal nearly swooned. “We have an excellent selection from Europe: Kolsch, Staroproman, Warsteiner, Zipfer, and, of course, Hoegartner.”

Teal whimpered.

“You might try the Zipfer,” his brother suggested, the traitorous fuck. “You can drink quite a bit and it doesn't cause hangovers.”

“Good,” Teal snapped, “because I'm gonna drink a
lot.
Bring on the Zips,” he told the waiter, who smiled and walked away.

“Ugh, beer,” Jenny said, wrinkling her nose.

“It's just so…” His fag brother groped for the word.

“Common,” Jenny prompted.

“Exactly. Now a solid, oaked white, on the other hand…”

“You could hardly call it common.”

“When the wine comes,” he informed Tweedle Dum and Tweedle Dummer, “I'm cutting the cork in half and sticking each piece in my ear. It's an alternative to slitting both your throats.”

“Now you're just being a baby,” Jenny said reproachfully. “You should be happy I find your brother so—ah—engaging.”

“Not if it means I'm going to be bored out of my tits all night,” he snapped back.

“I can't believe I almost…” She shut up and sipped from her water glass.

“Believe me, ‘narrow escape' is the phrase that's been on my mind all evening, too.” He gulped his water thirstily…where was the Zipper beer? He needed about ten.

“I'm delighted you find me engaging,” his brother said, and Jenny blushed to her eyebrows. “And speaking of engaging, I don't think we should delay even a moment.”

“Oh, I agree,” Jenny said, blinking up at him with her big Shania Twain eyes. “I think, if you find that person, that certain someone—I despise the term soul mate because it's—it's—”

“So dreadfully overused.”

“Yes! But when you do find such a creature, someone so in sync, there seems no point to delay.”

“I agree.”

“I'm so happy to hear that!”

“Not as happy as I am, Jenny.” They hugged briefly, and Teal barely rescued their water glasses.

“What the hell is this?” he asked.

They untangled each other, each beaming at him like pod people. “Congratulate us, dear,” Jenny said.

“Congratulate you for
what?
Macking at the table in the most expensive restaurant in the state?”

“Yes, give us all your best wishes,” his weirdo brother added, still holding Jenny's hand.

“You guys. Seriously. What the hell is going on?”

They stared deeply into each other's eyes, and Teal was about to repeat the question, louder, when they turned to him and said in unison, “We're engaged!”

 

I
n fact, you can get a hangover if you drink too many Zipfer beers.