Chapter 10 #2
“I should have gotten that for you, Miss Sumner,” he says as he holds out a hand to help me from the car.
He can’t be much older than me. He wears his dark hair short and neat, and I catch the slightest whiff of a clean-smelling cologne.
His entire persona is that of one who can easily fade into the background.
“Oh, I’m sorry. Do you want me to get back in, and we can try it again?”
He chuckles affably as he shuts the car door and waves Walter on. “I am Tristan, the personal assistant to His Royal Highness.”
“Ah, the brains behind the operation.”
I can’t help but laugh at his startled expression.
“He’d like to think so,” a deep voice cuts in.
I whip around to face the man who has hounded my thoughts for the last week.
We just saw each other yesterday, but already I’m growing to crave the easy company of Prince Friedrich.
The butterflies in my stomach have turned to sparrows, and it is all I can do to keep my breathing under control as I drop into a curtsy.
Tristan bows. “Your Highness, I thought I was to bring Miss Sumner to the French parlor. Shouldn’t you be meeting with His Majesty and Miss Gutowski?”
Prince Friedrich waves him off. “Father and Betsy have everything under control, I’m sure. What else could they have to say after this morning? Besides,” he flashes me that smile that makes my heart leap. “I didn’t want to wait to see what our Nanny Sumner had in store for the evening.”
He gives me an appraising look, his eyes lingering on the bits of skin exposed by the asymmetrical hem and low square neckline of my dress.
I thought it was a good pick for an event at the palace, modest in its coverage but fitted to show off just enough to garner appreciative glances.
I’m not sure when I decided I wanted the prince to look, but the desire in his eyes sends a shock of electricity through me.
Perhaps it’s time for that wardrobe update that Margaret and Aunt Sarah have been on me about.
“I’m rather impressed, mi’ lady,” he says as he takes my hand and places it in the crook of his elbow.
I can feel the curve of his bicep through his jacket. Seeing him in a t-shirt the other night allowed me a glimpse at the muscles underneath. Not huge and showy, but firm and toned, understated strength behind his typical uniform of tailored suits or long-sleeve button-downs.
We walk together up the stairs, and a footman opens the door for us.
He leads me into a formal-looking sitting room with windows facing out across the rear gardens.
Evergreen shrubs are strung with lights, and fountains glow in the middle of lighted paths.
I wish I could see the gardens in full bloom; they must be lovely in spring.
“I don’t have long before I have to make myself scarce for the evening,” the prince says when Tristan has gone and we are left alone. “But I wanted to see you before this thing kicks off.”
“Is that so?”
We have moved closer, face to face now, and I can almost feel the heat radiating from him.
He twirls one of my loose curls in his fingers. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about our little arrangement.”
I close my eyes, trying to rein in my thrumming heart. When I open them again, Prince Friedrich’s own big blue eyes are on mine, so intently it makes me weak. “Me either, Your Highness,” I breathe. “I’m actually a little… Excited? Is that lame?”
“Not at all lame, Aurelia.”
His hand leaves my hair and moves to the back of my neck, bringing my face to his, so close we’re sharing the same breath. The scent of whiskey and tobacco and cedar is going to my head, making me feel airy and light.
“And I’d really prefer if you’d call me Fritz.”
He holds my body to his with his other hand on the small of my back.
I am completely at his will in this moment, trapped in the strong embrace that sends heat to my core.
I haven’t been pressed against a man like this in years, and it never felt like this.
Like a mash-up of fire and need, but also ease and safety.
A nagging memory in the back of my mind forces itself to the forefront when I at last recognize the feeling I have around him.
Dearly beloved, I beseech you as strangers and pilgrims, abstain from fleshly lusts, which war against the soul.
But then, his lips finally touch mine in a whisper.
Not constrained or tied down, but savoring, and I’m lost to him.
The teachings of my childhood slip back to the dark recesses of my mind where they belong as I sink into the prince and his maddeningly tender kisses.
I want him in whatever way he’ll have me, princess project or no.
My body cries out for more. More! But before I can take what I so desire, he pulls away with a teasing grin.
“Let’s not mess up that gorgeous lipstick.” He taps a finger to my deep red lips.
“I can always reapply.”
He hisses. “Don’t tempt me, woman.” He takes my hand again and gives it a firm squeeze, leading me out of the sitting room and into a wide hall lined with open archways and carpeted in plush red. “Let me show you around a bit before the hyenas arrive.”
“You have so little opinion of the group of women that may contain your future wife?”
“I’ve met most of them before. Trust me, hyenas is putting it kindly.”
I do my best to stifle a most unkind snort.