Expectant Princess, Unexpected Affair / From Boardroom to Wedding Bed?: Expectant Princess, Unexpected Affair
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“Yellow, I think,” Anne said, and she and her mother drifted off to discuss wedding plans while Sam spoke to the king about his future position in the monarchy. He assured Sam that his talents would not be wasted, nor would they go unrewarded. Sam’s inheritance guaranteed him a financially sound future, so salary wasn’t an issue, but he was happy to know they valued his service. And relieved that under the circumstances, this entire situation was running as smoothly as a well-oiled machine.
So well that, were he not such a positive thinker, he might be waiting for the other shoe to fall.
The following Friday, with only the royal family, Sam’s parents and a few close friends in attendance, Sam and Anne were wed in a small, private ceremony in the garden on the palace grounds. The weather couldn’t have been more ideal. Sunny and clear with a temperature in the low seventies.
Louisa was the matron of honor and Sam’s older brother, Adam, flew in from England to be his best man. A musician and composer, Adam couldn’t have been less interested in politics, yet the artist in him understood Sam’s lifelong passion, and his desire to follow in their father’s footsteps.
“You’re sure you want to do this?” he asked Sam just before the ceremony was about to begin. “If you’re doing this to salvage the princess’s reputation—”
“I’m doing this because my child deserves to have parents who are married.”
“A one-night fling does not make for a lasting relationship, Sam. You barely know her. If the royal family is forcing you into this—” “This is my choice, and mine alone.” Adam shook his head, as though Sam were a lost cause. Then he grinned and said, “My baby brother, a duke. Who would have thought?”
Sam appreciated his brother’s concern, that after all these years Adam was still looking out for him. But Sam had already put the political chapter of his life behind him. He’d spent the last two days cleaning out his office at work since, as of that morning, he had been given the official title of duke and by law could no longer serve in government. His secretary, Grace, had tearfully said goodbye, telling him what an exceptional boss he’d been and how she would miss him. She said she was proud of him.
“I know I haven’t been the most efficient secretary and I appreciate your patience with me.”
Of course he felt guilty as hell for all the times he’d gotten frustrated and snapped at her or regarded her impatiently.
After he and Anne returned from their honeymoon Sam would take up his new position with the monarchy. He couldn’t say he was thrilled by the prospect, but he was trying to keep an open mind and a positive attitude. At least they didn’t try to force him into their agricultural business. A farmer, he was not. He didn’t know the first thing about managing farmland and raising crops. Nor did he have any inclination to learn.
His new goal was to surpass his new position as foreign affairs director and when Chris officially became king, become his right hand.
The music began, and Sam looked up to see Anne and her father taking their places. She wore a crème-colored floor-length dress with layers of soft silk ruffles. But even that did little to disguise the fact that she was pregnant. Not that everyone there didn’t already know. He would swear that since she had come to see him last week her tummy had nearly doubled in size. But as far as he was concerned it only made her look more ravishing.
Her hair was piled up on her head in loose curls with soft wisps trailing down to frame her face. And of course she wore a jewel-encrusted tiara.
Everyone stood to receive her, and Sam watched, mesmerized as she walked slowly toward him, looking radiant. She seemed to glow from the inside out with happiness.
It was obvious, the way the king clung to her arm as he walked her down the short path, that it was taking every bit of strength he could muster to make the short trip. But he did it with grace and dignity.
Here we go, Sam thought, as the king linked his and Anne’s hands together. It was the end of life as he once knew it. But as they spoke their vows and exchanged rings, instead of feeling cornered or trapped, he felt a deep sense of calm. He took that as a sign that he truly was doing the right thing. Maybe not just for their child, but for the two of them, as well.
Following the ceremony, drinks and hors d’oeuvres were served under a tent on the castle grounds. After a bit of mingling, Sam stood by the bar, watching his new wife. She was chatting with his brother and Adam seemed quite taken with her. Under the circumstances Sam might have expected some tension between their families, but everyone seemed to get along just fine. Almost too well.
Price Christian stepped up to the bar to get a drink, and told Sam, “Nice wedding.”
Sam nodded. “It was.”
He got his drink then turned to stand beside Sam. “I’ve never seen my sister so happy.”
She did look happy. And Sam was glad that his family had the chance to see this side of her, the one so unlike what they had read in the press and heard about through the rumor mill. He liked to think of this Anne as his Anne, the real woman inside, whom he had rescued from an existence of negativity and despair.
They had done a lot of talking this week in preparation for their wedding and she’d opened up about some of the past men in her life. The ones who had used and betrayed her. After all she had been through, it was a wonder she hadn’t lost her ability to trust entirely.
She saw him watching her and flashed him a smile.
“Your sister deserves to be happy,” Sam told the prince.
“I think so, too.” Then he added with a wry grin, “And if you ever do hurt her, I’ll have to hurt you back.”
Sam was quite sure, despite the prince’s smile, it was said only partly in jest. “I’ll keep that in mind, Your Highness.”
From across the tent a baby’s cry split the quiet murmur of conversation and they both turned to see Princess Melissa wrestling with two squirming bundles.
“I guess that’s my cue,” the prince said. He started to walk away, then stopped and said, “By the way, since we’re family now, you can drop the ‘Your Highness’ thing and just call me Chris.”
“After all these years of addressing you formally, that might take some getting used to.”
“Tell me about it,” Chris said with a grin before he walked off to rescue his wife.
Sam felt a hand on his arm and turned to see Anne standing there.
She slipped her arm through his and tucked herself close to his side and said excitedly, “Can you believe it, Sam? We’re married.”
“Strange, isn’t it?”
“Do you think it’s odd that I’m so happy?”
“Not at all.” He leaned down to brush a kiss across her lips. “I would be worried if you weren’t.”
“How soon do you think we can sneak out of here? I’m guessing that we could squeeze in some alone time before we leave for our honeymoon.”
He was about to say, as soon as possible, when an explosion pierced his ears and shook the ground beneath his feet. Startled cries from the guests followed and Anne screeched in surprise. Sam instinctively shielded her with his body and looked in the direction of the sound as a ball of fire and smoke billowed up from the north side of the castle. At first he could hardly believe what he was seeing—his first instinct was to get Anne somewhere safe as quickly as possible—but before he had an instant to act, the entire area was crawling with security.
“What the bloody hell is going on?” Anne demanded, shoving past him to see, and when she saw the flames and smoke darkening the clear blue afternoon sky, the color drained from her face.
Security was already rounding everyone up and guiding them in the opposite direction, away from the blast.
“It’s him,” Anne said, looking more angry than afraid, watching as acrid smoke began to blow in their direction. “The Gingerbread Man did this.”
Threatening e-mails and occasional pranks were an annoyance, but this was a serious escalation. He was obviously out of control. If it was even him. “For all we know it could be an accident,” he told her.
“No,” she said firmly. “It’s him. And this time he’s gone too far.”
Six
As Anne had suspected, the explosion had been deliberate.
The device had been hidden in the undercarriage of a car that belonged to Sam’s aunt and uncle. The police bomb squad still had investigating to do, but as far as they could tell, the bomb had been detonated remotely.
Four other cars had been damaged in the blast and the castle garage had taken a serious hit. Four of the five doors would need to be replaced and the facade would require repair. Thankfully, no people had been seriously hurt. He’d had the decency to do it when there weren’t a lot of people close by. Or maybe that had just been dumb luck. A few maintenance people walked away with mild abrasions and first-degree burns, but it could have been so much worse.
Sam’s poor aunt and uncle, whose car had been sabotaged, were beside themselves with guilt. They felt responsible, even though Anne and her siblings assured them repeatedly that they were in no way being blamed. There was only one person responsible for this.
The Gingerbread Man.
They knew this for a fact now because shortly after the explosion he’d sent an e-mail to Anne via the security office.
Sorry I couldn’t make it to your wedding. Heard it was a blast.
“This has got to stop!” she told Chris, who sat slumped in a chair in the study, nursing a scotch. The wedding guests had all been driven home in the royal fleet—since their own cars had been casualties of the explosion—and most of the family had gone up to bed. Only she, Sam and Chris stayed behind to talk. Or in her case, castigate. She was so filled with nervous energy she hadn’t stopped pacing, hadn’t stopped moving in hours. “Someone could have been seriously hurt. Someone could have died! “
“You think I don’t know that?” Chris said, looking exhausted. “We’re doing all that we can. What else would you have me do? “
“You know what I think we should do,” she said, and his expression went dark.
“That is not an option.”
“What’s not an option?” Sam asked from his seat on the settee. He had been so understanding about this, considering his wedding day had literally gone up in smoke. But she had warned him that being with her could potentially suck him into this mess. And so it had. She shuddered to think what would have happened if the Gingerbread Man had waited until the guests were leaving to sink the plunger. She was sure Sam had considered the same possibilities.
“She wants us to try to draw him out so we can catch him,” Chris said.
“Draw him out how?”
“I assume by using one of us as bait.”
Sam turned to look at her. “You’re not serious.”
“Maybe I trust our security team to do their job. Besides, no one else has had a better idea. How long are we supposed to go on like this? Living like prisoners, in fear of what he’ll do next. He’s obviously escalating the violence.”
“Obviously,” Chris snapped. He rarely lost his cool, so Anne knew that he was much more upset about this than he was letting on. “And now we know what he’s capable of. He’s not just some twisted stalker. He made a bomb. He’s more dangerous than any of us anticipated.”
“Okay,” she acknowledged. “Maybe luring him out wouldn’t be such a hot idea after all.”
“I think that, in light of what happened, it would be best if you two canceled your honeymoon.”
“What!” she screeched, indignation roiling up in her like a volcano. “You can’t be serious.”
“I’m very serious.”
“But you’re the one who suggested we go there, because it would be safe.”
She and Sam had been invited by Chris’s brother-in-law, King Phillip of Morgan Isle—the sister to Thomas Isle—to use their family hunting lodge. In fact, they should have been on a boat to the other island hours ago. If things had gone as planned, they would already be celebrating their honeymoon.
“I thought it would be the safest place for you, but—”
“Louisa went to Cabo for her honeymoon and no one gave her a hard time,” Anne reminded him.
“Circumstances have changed.”
“Chris, he ruined my wedding. I refuse to let him ruin my honeymoon, too. We’ll have plenty of security there. We’ll be fine.”
He still looked hesitant.
“The location was kept so hush-hush that by the time he figures out where we are, and comes up with his next diabolical plan, we’ll be back to the castle.”
“All right,” he finally agreed. “As long as you promise not to take any unnecessary risks.”
“Of course.” Did he think that she was a complete dolt? She wanted the man caught and brought to justice, but not so badly that she would endanger the life of her child.
Chris looked at Sam, who nodded and said, “We won’t.”
Is that how it would be now? Her family looking to her husband to keep her in line?
She realized she was clenching her fists and forced herself to relax. Getting this worked up wasn’t good for her or the baby. What she needed was an outlet for all this tension and stress. And she didn’t have to look far to find one.
She gazed over at Sam. Her husband. He was still wearing his wedding clothes but he’d shed the jacket and loosened his tie. The hair that had been combed back from his face earlier now fell forward in soft curls across his forehead. He looked too adorable for words and she couldn’t wait to put her hands all over him.
Her wedding day may have been decimated, but they still had their wedding night. After four months of missing his touch, and a torturous week of waiting for this very night, she was determined to make it a memorable one.
“I’m exhausted,” she announced, forcing a yawn for added effect, when in reality she was so awake she was practically buzzing. “Are you ready for bed, Sam?”
He nodded and rose from the settee.
“I’ll arrange to have the boat ready for your trip to Morgan Isle at 10:00 a.m.,” Chris told her.
“Thank you,” she said, taking Sam’s hand, leading him out of the study and up the stairs to her room. Make that their room. Most of Sam’s clothes and toiletries had been moved in earlier that morning, which had necessitated her clearing a place in her closet for him. Sharing her space again would require some getting used to. Louisa and Anne had shared a bedroom until they were thirteen and Anne could no longer stand the frilly pink bedcovers and curtains, the childish furnishings. Furnishings Louisa had still used until a few months ago.
What Anne really hoped was that when this Gingerbread Man business was behind them, she and Sam could spend time at his grandmother’s cottage. Away from her family and the confines of her title. A place where she could just be herself. A place where, unlike the castle, portraits of her relatives didn’t stare accusingly from every hallway. And where she could make herself a cup of tea without feeling like an intruder in the kitchen. Where she could make love to her husband and not worry that someone on the opposite side of the wall would hear her.
Privacy. That was what she wanted. A place of her own.
“I need to apologize,” Sam said.
She looked over at him. “For what?”
“Until today, I really didn’t take this Gingerbread Man thing very seriously. It seemed more an annoyance than a serious threat. But when that car exploded, I swear I saw my life flash before my eyes.”
She squeezed his hand. “I’m sorry I dragged you into this.”
He looked at her and smiled. “I’m not. I just want you to be safe.”
Which he had proven. The first minute or so after the blast was a bit of a blur, but the one thing she did remember with distinct clarity was the way he had used his own body as a shield to protect her. She could say with much certainty that in a similar situation, the men who had come before him would have ignored her entirely and saved their own asses.
And now it seemed only fair to reward him for his chivalry. Right?
They reached her room—their room—and the instant they were inside with the door closed, she launched herself at him. He let out a startled “Oof!” as she threw her arms around his neck and crushed her lips to his. But it didn’t take him long to recover from his surprise, before his arms went around her and he leaned in, took control of the kiss. In that single joining of their mouths, the tangling of their tongues, they seemed to unleash months of pent-up sexual frustration. She curled her fingers through his hair and sucked on his tongue, wishing she could crawl inside his skin, anything to be closer to him.
When they came up for air they were both breathing hard and he was wearing a slightly confused expression. “I thought you were exhausted.”
“What was I supposed to say? Let’s go upstairs so you can shag me silly?”
A slow smile curled his lips. “Is that what I get to do?”
“If you want to,” she said, already knowing by the look in his eyes the answer was yes. She pulled the pins from her hair, shaking it loose and letting it spill down over her shoulders. His eyes raked over her and she could swear she actually felt his gaze caressing her skin.
“Unless you’d rather just go to sleep,” she teased.
To answer her, he wrapped an arm around her waist, tugged her against him and kissed her. And kissed her.
And kissed her.
A part of her wanted to drag him to the bed, rip off his clothes, impale herself on his body and ride him to ecstasy. The other part wanted to take her time, draw out the anticipation and make this last.
She broke the kiss and backed out of his arms, wearing a come-and-get-me smile as she unzipped her dress and pulled it over her head. All she wore underneath was a beige lace bra and matching panties.
“Take it all off,” he ordered, transfixed as she unhooked her bra and dropped it on the floor.
“They’re bigger,” she said, cupping her breasts in her palms.
“I don’t care what size they are, as long as they’re attached to you.”
How was it that he always knew the exact right thing to say?
She gave each one a gentle squeeze, careful to avoid her nipples. They had been especially sensitive since the second month of her pregnancy. Sometimes just the brush of her pajama top made them hard and tingly, almost to the point of pain.
“The panties, too,” he demanded.
She slid them down, anticipating the slow smile that curled his mouth when he realized what she was hiding—or more to the point wasn’t hiding—underneath.
“I think I just died and went to heaven,” he said.
“It was Louisa’s idea,” she told him, touching her fingers to the smooth skin from the recent Brazilian wax that her sister had insisted would drive Sam wild. If the look on his face was any indication, she was right.
“Louisa, huh?” He shook his head. “She just doesn’t seem the type.”
No kidding. For someone who had clung to her virginity until her engagement several months ago, Louisa seemed to know an awful lot about sex. “She said it enhances sensation.”
“I guess we’ll have to test that theory.”
She was counting on it. She backed toward the bed and Sam watched as she pulled back the covers and draped herself across the mattress, letting her legs casually fall open. Giving him a view of the full package.
He started to walk toward her but she shook her head and said, “Uh-uh,” and he stopped in his tracks. She gestured to his clothes. “Your turn to undress. Take it all off.”
If there were a land speed record for disrobing, he probably broke it. And he had the most beautiful body she had ever seen. Long and lean and perfect. Simply looking at him made her feel all hot and fidgety and anxious.
“Lie down,” he ordered.
She scooted over and lay back against the pillows. Sam crawled in and settled down beside her. She was so ready for him she ached, but she didn’t want to rush this. She wanted to savor every second. Sam seemed content just lying there looking at her, lightly caressing the tops of her breasts, the column of her throat.
“You are so beautiful,” he said, his eyes already shiny and heavy-lidded with arousal. He cupped her breasts, testing their weight in his hand, then he leaned over and licked the dark crest of one. She knew her nipples were sensitive, she just hadn’t realized how sensitive until he nipped one with his teeth. Her body jerked violently, as though he were holding a live wire to her skin, and a strangled moan ripped from her throat.
He lifted his head, looking equal parts alarmed and intrigued. “What just happened?”
“I don’t know,” she said, her voice unsteady with shock and arousal. “I’ve never felt anything like that.”
“Was it bad?”
“Not exactly. It felt … electric.” Pleasure and pain all wrapped up in one.
“Should I stop?”
She shook her head. “Do it again.”
“You’re sure?”
She bit her lip and nodded. He lowered his head to try again and she grabbed his shoulders, bracing herself. But nothing could have prepared her for the assault of sensation as he sucked her nipple into his mouth. There was a tremendous, almost unbearably intense throb between her thighs, as if her breasts had somehow been hardwired directly to her womb. A moan rolled up from deep in her chest and her nails dug into his flesh. Then he did the same to the opposite side and she nearly vaulted off the bed, so far gone that she was on another planet.
Sam released her nipple and gazed down at her, looking fascinated, like a child who had just been handed a new toy. “Wow.”
No kidding. This was completely crazy. He’d barely touched her and already she was hovering on the verge of an orgasm. Her body was so alive that if he so much as looked at her cross-eyed, she was going to lose it.
“If you do that again, I’ll come,” she warned him.
“Seriously?”
She nodded.
He looked like he wanted to, if for no other reason than to see if she really would. He even started to lean forward, then seemed to change his mind at the last second. Instead he pushed himself up, pressing her thighs apart and kneeling between them.
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