Chapter 6
six
I’ll destroy him. ~ from the journal of Prince Gabriel
GAbrIEL
He pushed the blanket down, brushing against the soft fabric of her dress as he did. He got up briefly to move the covers away, then broke the kiss to look at her body. “You’re beautiful.”
“So are you.”
He smirked.
She rolled her eyes again. “Don’t let it go to your head, Your Highness.”
“Oh this will be in my head though. I’ll be replaying on a loop for a long time, I’m sure.”
“Replaying how you got sick after kissing me, you mean?”
“Well, if I’m going to get sick, I may as well do things properly.”
“Wait, I don’t…oh.”
His hands slid up her legs and pushed up the bottom of her nightgown. She wore simple panties but, to him, they were just as alluring as any he’d seen before. He kissed her over the simple cotton.
He looked up the long line of her body to meet her eyes. “Has anyone ever done this for you, My Lady?”
She shook her head.
“May I?”
She bit her lip.
“Only my mouth. We won’t make love, not yet anyway.”
Her eyes widened.
“Well…my mouth and maybe my fingers, to be more accurate. May I?” he asked, giving her the most devilish smile he could.
She nodded.
“I need the words, Genevieve.”
“Y-yes. Yes you may.”
He kissed the inside of her leg. “Thank you, my dear.”
She squeaked as he pulled her down to lay on the bed. “This position will be more comfortable for you, I’m sure.”
He slipped his hands around the sides of her panties, and started to pull them down.
Her breath was coming in gasps, her chest shifting with each one. Suddenly, she shook her head and pulled her legs up and away from him, hugging them close to her chest.
“No. No, no, no.”
He’d only pulled her underwear down a couple inches, so nothing had been revealed, but this wasn’t a mere ‘no’.
She was still shaking her head, still holding her legs tightly. “No, no, no.”
It was almost like she wasn’t there, as if he’d brought up a painful memory, and he didn’t want to consider what that might be. “All right. It’s okay.”
She was pushing back against her headboard, as if trying to move as far away from him as she could.
“I’m not going to hurt you, Genevieve,” he said softly. When she still didn’t seem to hear him, he tried again. “Genevieve. Gen. I’m not going to hurt you, okay? I’m not even going to touch you. You have all the control here.”
He kept saying the same words to her for at least a minute, probably more, until she finally seemed to come back to herself.
She blinked, her eyes full of tears which started trickling down her cheeks. “G-Gabriel?”
He kept his voice soft and low. “I’m here. You’re safe. I won’t hurt you.”
She shifted in the bed—tugging her legs even closer, curling her toes into the bed, and turning her head away from him—and seemed to be rocking gently.
“Don’t hide from me.”
She shook her head.
“Genevieve. Please. We should talk about what happened.”
Another head shake, followed by a sniffle, then a series of coughs. She sighed and finally relaxed a little as she reached for another makeshift tissue.
After she blew her nose and tossed it into the wastebasket by her bed, she turned to him. “Well?”
His head jerked back. “Well, what?”
She settled back to sitting against her headboard, and pulled the covers over her, even covering her chest, tugging at them so hard that he was forced to stand. “I can see a thousand questions on your lips. Get them over with then.”
He sat down, the bed squeaking slightly as he did. “Will you answer them?”
“Probably not. But maybe you’ll finally leave if you realize that I’m more damaged than you thought.”
He’d held back his anger, but he let it seep through now. “Who hurt you?” he ground out. “Tell me their name.”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “No.”
“I’m a prince. You know I can make them pay for what they’ve done.”
She scoffed. “You know nothing.” She shook her head. “You’re just as selfish as the rest, only thinking about what you want, and thinking nothing about me.”
His eyes widened. “How can you say that? This would be for you.”
“Oh really? So, you’ll go to this person and name me as the reason you’re pressing charges or whatever against them, even though you don’t even know what happened and you don’t even know if I want them to be charged, bringing me into a spotlight I’d rather not be in, and then force me to go through a trial, all the while people speculate on our relationship since you’re the one who got him arrested in the first place.
Then, I’ll probably be forced to leave the country to escape the press and to find someone who will actually marry me.
“Trust me when I say that destroying my life isn’t about me, it’s only about what you want.”
He hadn’t thought about it from her perspective, not completely, and hadn’t considered what the impact would be on her life.
He merely saw a problem that needed fixing.
He should have done better, as a man and as a prince that would one day hold the country’s future in his hands.
He should have thought further ahead about the consequences of this decision.
Still, he wanted to understand her better. “Don’t you want this person charged?”
Her fire came out again, just the smallest spark but it made him feel better for some reason. “Don’t you fucking judge me, Your Highness. Whether I choose to bring charges against someone is my decision. And choosing not to do it, is just as valid a choice as choosing to do it.”
He was quiet for a moment. “He could be hurting others. Don’t you want him stopped?”
“Of course I don’t want him to hurt other people.
But I can’t make a decision that will affect my whole life based on other people.
No one believes the woman when she comes forward with a claim like this, and I just wouldn’t be able to handle that.
Besides, he’s…powerful. He could not only destroy me but he’d destroy my family.
I can’t have Diana’s future destroyed by a choice I make. I won’t do it.”
“Is he more powerful than a prince?” He already knew the answer but asked it anyway. The only one more powerful than him was his father, and there was no way his father was the one who’d hurt her.
“No,” she said softly. “But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t have friends in high places.”
So he was a member of nobility, maybe even someone his father knew. Fuck. “Do I know him?”
She looked away and reached for her water.
Her non-answer was enough to confirm for him. “I see. Do you want to talk about it?”
She immediately shook her head.
“I won’t force you, not in this or anything, but I hope one day you trust me enough to tell me.”
“I wouldn’t count on that.”
He wanted to reach for her, to cup her cheek or at least hold her hand, but he wasn’t sure if it would be welcome. “Genevieve, I—”
“Genevieve! Diana! Oh where are those girls?” Her mother’s voice echoed through the house, and the sound of her heels on the stairs made Genevieve gasp.
“You have to get out of here!” she whispered and started pushing him off the bed. She was stronger than he realized and he lost his balance and fell to the floor with an “oof!”.
“What was that?” her mother yelled.
“Nothing, mother!” Genevieve yelled back, her voice hoarse. “I just tripped and fell. I’ll be there in a minute.”
Gabriel smiled at her flushed, worried face.
“Get out,” she mouthed and pointed at the open window.
He shook his head, and whispered back, “We’re not finished talking, my dear Genevieve. I’ll wait until your mother goes to bed and sneak out then.”
Her mother’s voice was getting closer and Genevieve was getting more frantic. “Under the bed,” she mouthed and then pointed.
It would be a tight fit, but he could probably do it. “Closet?” he suggested instead.
“No time,” she said as she pushed him.
He sighed but flipped onto his front and slid underneath, settling in just as the bedroom door opened and he heard her mother’s shrill voice.
“Are you even trying to get well? You’re still very sick and the Trumley’s annual tea party is tomorrow. Why are you so out of breath?”
“Mother, I—”
“No, I don’t care to listen. You never think of anyone but yourself. You’ll go to the party tomorrow and that’s that.”
“Mother, if you’ll let me talk, I—”
Gabriel jerked as he heard what he thought was a slap. Had she really slapped her sick daughter?
“You’ll not talk back to me! You’re to be ready for the tea party promptly at four tomorrow. I’ll need to attend with you to keep you in line. You’re such a disgrace to this family.” She tsked and then slammed the door as she left.
He waited a beat in case the mother came back, then slid out. Genevieve was standing still near the door, and he didn’t know what to do. He wanted to comfort her, but wasn’t sure if she’d welcome it.
He reached for her anyway, letting the tips of his fingers graze her shoulder before she jerked and stepped away. “Genevieve…”
She moved towards her small walk-in closet and closed the door, leaving him standing alone in her bedroom.
He sighed and wiped a hand over his face, then decided to wait until she came out on her own. He’d given the room a look over while she’d slept, but now, after a revealing conversation and insight into her family life, he gave it another glance.
Events she was forced to go to—had she ever chosen to go to them willingly?
Pink on the wall and bedding she hadn’t chosen.
Some clothes strewn around the room, while others were hung with care on a rack—which had she chosen, and which had been chosen for her? He’d loved her in everything he’d seen her in, but had she loved the clothes on her body too?
Makeup dotted her dresser, some touched, some not—had she been forced here too?
More questions flickered in his head as he took in her jewelry and accessories and books.
Who was Genevieve Ruffin? And would she ever let him find out?
Would she—could she?—ever choose him willingly, or would he be yet another thing forced upon her?