Chapter 13
The strong pep talk she had given herself died a slow, painful death at the touch of his mouth on hers.
The decision to stay away from him, to put what had happened behind them now seemed laughable and completely impossible.
The fire ignited inside her, a slow flame that quickly became a burning that swept through her like a storm.
His effect on her was stunning. Her arms crept around his neck as she willingly pressed her body against his.
She was hungry for him and that much was obvious.
His tongue did a deep forage inside her mouth like a starving man who was finally getting sustenance.
His hands wandered up and down her back restlessly.
He had stayed away last night to prove a point, to force her to acknowledge how much she needed him and suffered as a result.
Now he drank her in, the taste of her flooding his entire being.
Dragging his lips from hers, he trailed light kisses down her cheek and the pulse beating like a maddened thing at the side of her neck, before returning to her mouth. Rational thinking at last reared itself. Tearing her mouth from his, she leaned against him weakly, gulping in air.
"This is... this is my office." Her voice was husky, sending white hot shafts of desire pouring through him. "Your mother..."
"Is still out and I locked the door."
"This is inappropriate," she protested weakly, her body trembling. "And besides, you were not around last night. Not that it matters..."
"It did." His deep, slightly accented voice interrupted her solemnly.
Tucking his fingers under her chin, he studied the flushed look on her lovely face.
He had dislodged some pins, and her hair was falling down from its neat chignon.
Her lips were swollen, her eyes bright with passion.
It moved him tremendously. "Are you going to stand here in the circle of my arms and deny what you feel?
That last night you didn't spend time tossing and turning in your bed because I wasn't there? "
Her eyes flared. "Oh please. I slept like a baby."
"Antoinette..." His voice was tinged with amusement.
"There's no shame in admitting that you want me.
That the need is burning a hole through your body.
That you desperately want to ditch this place and come with me upstairs so that I can take off all your clothes and use first my mouth and then my fingers all over your body before sinking deep inside you.
" His eyes smoldered as he continued to stare at her.
"Because I feel it too." He rubbed his thumb over her full bottom lip.
"Because I did not sleep last night for wanting you. "
"Then why..." Shaking her head, she started to step back.
"Why didn't I come to you?" His arms tightened around her waist, keeping her there. "Because of pride. You went out with another man, which was a very foolish thing to do."
Her eyes flared. "Something I intend to do again."
His fingers bit into her waist. "You're intent on dragging someone else into our affairs?"
"He's my friend." She lifted her chin and felt her heart stuttering at the look in his eyes.
Oh God, she had fallen in love with him.
It was no use trying to deny it. She could fool someone else, but not herself.
What she had felt for Brian paled in comparison to what she was feeling now.
Her heart raced whenever she thought of him.
Right now, she wanted to go with him upstairs and touch every inch of his magnificent body.
She yearned to have him cover her body with his, to feel him deep inside her.
But she had to be practical. This was not a story and could never have a storybook ending.
He was a prince and unlike the Cinderella story, where the prince found the girl and they lived happily ever after, she was too sensible, too intelligent to think it was going to happen to her.
He was the prince. A multi-billionaire heir to the throne.
She was not a princess, far from it. She was an American, a black full-sized woman.
As much as she had great confidence and was not in the least bit shaky about her size or the way she looked, she had to be practical.
He was accustomed to thin, beautiful, white women.
She had none of those qualities and that was fine by her.
"Antoinette?" He was staring at her with a puzzled frown.
"I have work to do." She struggled to come out of the sensual haze his presence had her wrapped in and tried to think rationally. "You need to leave."
"What..."
"Please. Just go."
He would have objected, except for the stricken look on her lovely face. He somehow sensed she was struggling with something profound.
"Tell me to come to you tonight," he demanded, trying to force her to take the initiative.
"No."
"Bloody hell, Antoinette. Why must you be so damned stubborn?"
"Why?" She pushed at him. "I'm not your type. And this is getting ridiculous. Now please go."
"You're not my type and yet I cannot stop thinking about you.
" Jerking her chin up, he crushed his lips to hers, forcing her lips open.
A moan escaped her when he plunged his tongue into her mouth.
She clung, returning the kiss with an ardor that fired his already tormented body.
Dragging his lips from hers, he was the one who stepped back, his eyes darkened by passion raking over her face.
"Lie to me all you want, but very soon, you're going to have to face that we have something special.
Something that's not going away." With that parting shot, he turned and walked out, slamming the door shut behind him.
She sank down in the chair, her knees weakened, her heart hammering. Lifting a hand to her hair, she did her best to fix the damage his fingers had done, and with a determined firming of her lips, tried to get back to work.
********************
She could leave. Just simply hand in her resignation and go.
She could always come up with some excuse.
Something to do with the fact that she missed home and would like to go back.
She could not stay. She had done the unthinkable and fallen in love with a goddamned prince!
She stabbed at the keyboard viciously and cursed low and long when she ended up deleting half of the email to which she was responding.
He was messing with her head, messing with her entire life.
She had reverted true to form by falling for a man who was not only unsuitable, but he was also as unattainable as the stars.
Then something struck her, something so profound that she sat back and sucked in her breath in horror. In all the excitement, the heat, the pleasure, unbelievable pleasure, they had both forgotten to do one very important thing.
"Oh God," she whispered, closing her eyes in despair.
She had not protected herself. At this very moment, she could be carrying the prince's baby.
She was thirty-two, rapidly going on thirty-three years old, and one of the significant reasons she had for wanting to get married was to have a child.
She had laughingly told Brian that if he was not careful, she was going to fill the house with children.
How could she have been so stupid? So careless?
And what the hell was he thinking, not using protection?
He was a prince for crying out loud. He should have acted with more responsibility.
Shoving from the desk, she marched over to the refreshment stand and poured some tea.
She could only pray, pray hard and long, that God spared her from her carelessness.
Taking the tea with her, she went to sit back down and contemplated her quandary.
She could leave, but her feelings would still be there. She could not run away from them. And it was obvious. She was in love with him. Head over heels, hopelessly in love with Prince Tomas.
She could not go back and undo it. The fact was there. She was in love with him. And the longing, the urge, the yearning, they were all there.
She just had no idea what she was going to do.
The phone rang just then, rudely jolting her back to the present and reminding her that she had work to do.
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"It's been a madhouse." Queen Sofia breezed in at a quarter of five, a lovely chinchilla thrown over her arm and a harassed expression on her face.
"You cannot believe the day I had." She heaved a sigh as she walked straight into her office and sat behind her desk.
"Please tell me I have the rest of the evening easy. "
"I..." Antoinette had spent the last two hours coming up with a way to tell her that she had to leave. "Just correspondences, and the caterers were trying to get in touch with the chef to finalize the menu."
"My dear, I gave you carte blanche to deal with all of that.
" Waving a dismissive hand, she stared at the email with a slight frown.
"Sir Everet Whitfield will be coming for a visit on the weekend.
" She glanced up briefly. "He's a dear friend of mine.
Even though I've told him repeatedly that he stays here whenever he's in town, the man is too polite to take it for granted.
Will you see to it that he's assigned the purple room? He likes the view from there."
"Of course." Antoinette jotted the information on her iPad.
"And there's a bicentennial ceremony next week, seven days of celebration that my husband insisted on keeping in place.
" She grimaced. "I'll leave that with Tomas; he's in charge of the military and the pomp and ceremony that goes along with it.
Has he been here? He was supposed to stop by the bank and give me an update. "
"He did."
"And?"
Antoinette sat down heavily on the chair facing the desk. "I have to tell you something."
Leaning back in the chair, Sofia gave Antoinette her attention. "What is it, my dear? You look pensive."