Chapter 2
It had been a very long time since a woman had kissed Frederick.
A very, very long time.
And never in this kind of situation.
Frederick threaded his fingers through the hair at the base of Elise's neck as the kiss grew in intensity.
But before things started to take a turn they shouldn't, he pulled back, resting his forehead against hers.
Neither spoke for several long seconds.
"I probably shouldn't have done that," she whispered.
"Probably not." But he didn't let her go. "But I'm not mad you did."
"So you won't throw me in the dungeon when we get to Southern Santiero?"
Frederick's eyes were still closed, but he could hear the smile in her voice. "No, I won't throw you in the dungeon. I have security staff to do that for me, should the need arise." Would she take the comment in the lighthearted way he intended?
"Don't wanna get your hands dirty, huh?"
Her amusement was obvious, but something about the words hit a nerve. He let his hand slide out of her hair as he rolled onto his back. "No. I won't get my hands dirty." Rolling even further, he stood up and went through the door into his dressing area.
His fresh clothes had been laid out, waiting for him.
Normally, he didn't feel the need to lock the door behind him.
This time, he stared at the lock then decided Elise wouldn't be so bold as to walk in while he changed.
After splashing water on his face, he scrubbed it with a towel.
He should probably shave, but that seemed like too much work.
Quickly changing into a pair of slacks and a long-sleeved button-down shirt, he went back into the bedroom.
A sense of disappointment flooded through him as he realized Elise had left the room.
Rather than exiting into the main cabin, he sat at the desk in the bedroom, opening the window shades so he could see outside.
Not that he had any idea where they were. Below was blue ocean as far as the eye could see.
Frederick knew he could turn on the screen within reach and discover for himself how long they had left in the flight, but he realized he didn't care that much. The steward would tell him when they had about half an hour left. Until then he needed to get work done.
He tried, he really did, but Frederick accomplished absolutely nothing.
Except reliving the moments immediately after he woke up.
What he told Elise was the absolute truth.
He had very little physical contact with anyone in any sort of intimate setting.
The intimate contact didn't need to be that of a lover, though that was part of his long-term plan - and not just because he was expected to marry and have at least two children.
By intimate contact, he simply meant hugs or claps on the shoulder or any sort of contact at all.
His father had never been overly demonstrative.
His mother had held him as a child, reading books together or even during the rare movie night.
As he grew, the snuggle sessions, of necessity, became fewer and farther between, but she always gave him the best hugs.
Until a week or so after his father passed.
In the space of a single breath, Frederick went from a son to a king.
For the first week, not much changed, but after his father's funeral, his mother began to grow more distant, walled off. Frederick suspected it had to do with the fact he'd become king and one simply didn't hug a king.
Before long, his mother moved out of the palace and to a dowager's cottage on a small island on the other side of the country.
As part of an island-wide resort, she had everything she needed at her fingertips - and none of the paparazzi.
She came to visit a couple of times a year plus holidays, and when he was in the area, he'd stop to see her.
But it wasn't the same.
Finally, he decided he wouldn't get any work done, especially with the Internet access down for some reason.
Rather than asking the steward to bring him something to drink, Frederick left the sanctity of his room and headed for the galley. To one side, Elise had turned a chair so she could look out the window without having to look at him.
Instead of continuing to the galley, he took the seat next to her, but didn't say anything.
"How long until we land?" She continued to stare out the window.
Frederick looked at the clock over the door. "About ninety minutes."
"So we didn't sleep as long as we expected."
"I suppose we didn't." He used a button to recline his seat a bit. "Do you have a place to stay tonight? A way to get there?"
Elise shook her head. "No. I need to get a hotel. I can take a Yfir ride share to get there, but I never did make arrangements."
"You don't have an assistant to do those things for you?" Didn't all celebrities have assistants?
"I have a virtual assistant who helps with my social media and a few other things and will help with travel arrangements if I ask her to, but I generally take care of them myself." She took a sip out of the mug cradled between her hands.
"You're welcome to stay at the palace." Even as he said it, Frederick wanted to take it back. If the media found out he'd invited a woman to stay in any of the guest quarters in the palace, even as a favor to the queen of an important ally, he'd never hear the end of it.
Ironically, it would be easier if he were married.
"That's very kind of you, but I'm sure I can find a place. I have reservations starting tomorrow. I'll see if I can get my room a day early." She gave a one-shouldered shrug. "If not, there's plenty of other options."
"There's still no reason for that. It will be late by the time we land, and you'd have to find a place." Why was he trying so hard to convince her?
Elise held up her phone. "I can make arrangements from here, you know."
"Internet access is down," he countered. "You won't be able to until we land."
She swiped on her phone. "I had Wi-Fi earlier."
"Earlier it was working. I'm not sure why it's not now, but that's what I was told. I couldn't get any work done." He couldn't leave it at that. "At least part of the reason why."
"What's that mean?" Elise looked at him over the rim of her coffee cup.
Frederick leaned back in his seat. "It means there were things I could have worked on without access to the outside world, but I couldn't focus."
"I see."
He doubted she did, though she likely suspected the kiss was at least part of the reason for his inability to focus. "So you won't be able to find a hotel until we land."
"I'll be fine." She gave him a smile. "But thank you for the offer."
Frederick gave a nod then swiveled his chair to stand and walk toward the galley to get a beverage. He decided he should try again to get some work done.
This time, he sat at the table in the main portion of the fuselage. Putting his Bluetooth earbuds in, he set one of his favorite playlists to repeat. With the instrumental strains playing, he was able to focus a little bit. Not much, but more than he had been able to a few minutes earlier.
Somehow, eventually, he managed to get into a zone, typing away on a document he'd been working on off and on for months.
It would never see the light of day, not until long after he passed.
It wasn't a journal, per se, but definitely a recording of his thoughts and all sorts of other things he wouldn't want to become public while he lived - or even while his children lived. Perhaps his great-great grandchildren - or their children.
He didn't know how long his assistant had been standing next to him when he finally looked up.
"My apologies for interrupting your work, sir.
" His assistant, George, bowed his head toward Frederick.
"The pilots asked me to inform you that there's some severe weather over the airport.
We'll be circling for a while. It's possible it will last long enough we'll need to divert to Northern Santiero. "
"Thank you." Frederick stood and went back to the seat next to Elise. "It will be quite some time before we land."
"I heard." Elise set her now-empty mug on the table next to her. "Hopefully, it will blow over before long, and we won't have to divert."
"If they thought we'd have to div-ert they would have said so. They only mentioned it because it is a possibility, but I don't think we will. Regardless, we likely won't land until at least eleven or possibly midnight instead of nine-thirty."
She looked at him, waiting for him to go on.
"Which means it will be a challenge for you to find a place to stay, get there, and still get enough rest before tomorrow morning." He tilted his head toward her. "I would like to reiterate that it would be my pleasure to offer a place to stay."
Her eyes seemed to search his for a long moment before she nodded. "You make a good point. Thank you for the kind offer. I will be happy to stay at the palace tonight."
The delay did last long enough they were forced to divert to Northern Santiero, the closest neighboring country to Frederick’s homeland.
Elise could tell the detour annoyed Frederick, though he covered it well.
Apparently, there wasn’t another long landing strip accessible at night in Southern Santiero and the main tower in Northern Santiero was also experiencing some sort of technical difficulty, so they landed on one of the smaller islands.
In fact, there wasn’t much on the island except the airport.
It seemed everyone would have to ferry to the larger landmass nearby.
Without being given the time to properly secure the ferry, a place to stay, and anything else they might need to look at, Frederick’s security insisted they stay on the plane. The staff would be able to rotate at the small dormitory on the island for those who needed to stay from time to time.
Elise would be allowed to go if she wanted to. She could even hop the ferry - if it was still running this time of night - and find her own way to Southern Santiero.
The frown on the king’s face told her what he thought of that plan.
Where did he expect her to sleep?