Going Royal 01 - Some Like It Royal (14 page)

Her fingers wrapped into his T-shirt and he smiled.

There were worse things.

Chapter Sixteen

Twin bands of hot steel held her tight and secure. She stretched slowly. The pillow beneath her head shifted and a warm hand closed on her breast.

Awareness jolted through her sleep-fogged mind. Her eyes flew open to face the wall of their guest room at the Hamilton house—the Napa Valley estate where they stayed. She lay on her side, pillowed against Daniel’s shoulder. His body pressed up against hers, wrapping her up, and his hand held possession of her breast. The thin T-shirt she slept in was hardly a barrier and her nipple pebbled against his palm.

When he squeezed, his thumb rolling over the hardened tip, she had to swallow back a groan. His erection tucked against her bottom, long and stiff.

Two disparate desires collided. She needed to extricate herself from his arms and that was the sensible choice. But when he shifted, turning onto his back and pulling her around to face him, the urge to stay right there and explore the passion his kisses filled her with overrode good sense.

He massaged her breast and slid his other hand down her hip. When his fingers splayed against the waistband of her shorts, she made a little noise. His body stilled against her and she twisted, her gaze colliding with his sleepy, long-lashed eyes.

Get up and move away.
The sober advice chirped into her mind as though delivered by Jiminy Cricket. Dropping her gaze to his lips, she licked her own and his hand glided up her back to catch the back of her neck.

Move away
, she reminded herself sternly, but she didn’t listen. His gaze was like a caress on her face, his body, lean and hot where it pressed into hers. He held her captive as he stroked his thumb across the nipple, teasing it through her T-shirt, and she lunged into him, meeting his mouth for a kiss that burned through her barriers.

His tongue teased the seam of her lips and she opened for him. Excitement thrilled to every nerve ending as he stroked her hair and down the line of her back. Somehow she sprawled across him, almost grinding against the rigid length of his cock. The kiss broke for a hesitant second. Alertness filled his blue eyes. Alertness, and something far more decadent.

Want.

“Alyx.” His husky voice wrapped around her name and she sighed, a ribbon of need tightening in her belly. He stared up at her as his hand left her neck, slid down her spine and dipped below the edge of her shorts. The contact sizzled where his fingertips stroked her skin.

“This is a bad idea.” She breathed the words, fighting the urge to squirm, because movement reminded her of their precarious position.

But her body hummed with every light caress. He palmed her breast, petting it in a slow circular fashion that just ratcheted up the need boiling inside her.

“It doesn’t have to be.” He lifted his head, catching her lower lip in a sucking kiss as he traced the line of her bottom. Flesh against flesh and she wanted more. Her knees clamped on his hips and she tried to push herself up.

The slow motion only served to intensify the heat between her thighs, the rigid throb of his erection teasing her through their clothes. She knew he took care of his body. She’d seen the hard plane of his stomach, the golden smoothness of his shoulders, the fine—almost baby-fine—sprinkle of hair that circled his nipples.

Arched above him, she felt his hand slip down to the hem of her shirt. It was time to stop. They were both awake. Both aware.

But he pushed her shirt up, then his hand caught her breast, his thumb and forefinger rolled her nipple. She tipped her head back. Raw desire pulsed through her, igniting a liquid heat in her blood that threatened to boil over. He pushed her shirt higher and she watched him staring at her. He studied her breasts, and it took everything she had not to sit up straighter, arch her back and offer them to him.

Thank God he didn’t need the offer. One moment she straddled him and the next she lay on her back, legs wrapped around his hips as his golden head dropped to her chest. His breath warmed one nipple. Her sex clenched and she thrust her fingers into his hair.

All thoughts of pushing him away evaporated.

“I want you.” His murmured words echoed her own thoughts and then his lips closed over one aching, turgid peak and she gave up any pretense. Her back arched, thrusting the bud into his mouth, and he grazed the sensitive tip with his teeth before latching on to it in a hard suck that pulled all that aching, wanton need to the forefront. His hips ground to hers, teasing her through their clothes with a mock thrust. She stroked her nails down his back, found the hem of his shirt and glided them back up the warm heat of his skin.

Electricity pumped through her, like summer lightning rippling through her body. Somewhere between the first touch of his lips to her nipple and his wet kisses tracing a path to the other, her shirt hit the floor and so did his. He surged up and caught her mouth in a kiss that demanded as much as he gave. The light hairs on his chest tickled her breasts and she hitched her legs higher, wrapping them around him. His tongue stroked hers, swirling, teasing and tasting. The hot, rich spicy scent of his masculinity filled her, imprinting on her soul. When he slid his hand beneath her waistband, she held her breath.

He lifted his head as two of his fingers glided along the moist lips of her sex and she didn’t hide the moan. A possessive smile lifted the corners of his mouth and his blue, blue eyes darkened.

“You are so wet,” he whispered. The raw declaration sent another flood of heat through her and she pushed her hips up, grinding against those fingers exploring her folds. He cupped her sex in his palm and began a slow back-and-forth glide against her clitoris.

Weeks of drugging kisses, casual touches and wonderful company left her primed for the wildness threading through her. She fisted a hand into his hair and dragged him upward, and he caught her mouth in another kiss as a finger slid inside her. She bucked against his hand, wanting—no, needing—more. Her body hummed, her heart shattering the restrictive bands she’d encircled it with.

He drove her higher, thrusting her over the peak, and pleasure exploded through her. She drifted on the eddies of the pleasure he’d given her and she ran her hands up and down his back. She wanted more. She wanted him inside her, filling her, and she rode his hand with a demand of her own.

Petting her through the orgasm, his kisses grew less feverish. He teased her, nibbling at her lips and tracing a path to her ear. When he latched on to her earlobe, a fresh wave of tension coiled through her. “Daniel...” she exhaled on a whisper, barely able to contain the emotions boiling up inside her.

“Shh,” he soothed, his breath warm as he traced his tongue around the whorls of her ear. His hands continued to pet, to stroke, and when she caught fire again, he caught her clitoris between his thumb and forefinger. The barest of pressure and she imploded all over again, her head arching back, and he covered her mouth with his to swallow her cries of pleasure.

Cool air rushed against her breasts, tightening the nipples. She opened her eyes to find him sitting. He dragged her shorts and panties down and tossed them off the edge of the bed. His own shorts slid off his hips and she lifted up on an elbow, drinking in the glorious sight of him.

His cock jutted, thick and full. He reached across her to the nightstand and she dragged her fingers down his chest. She wanted to touch him. Bad idea or not, she didn’t know and frankly, she no longer cared. His muscles jerked and jumped with every touch and he fumbled with a curse. His wallet slid off the bed and she slithered along him as he chased it. She bit down on his shoulder, his hot skin salty with a gleam of sweat. She found his nipple and swirled her tongue around it, remembering what he did to her.

A low groan vibrated through his chest. “You’re killing me.” He laughed, but he didn’t pull away as he came up with his wallet. She barely noticed the tinfoil in his hand as she taste-tested her way across his chest. His abdominal muscles rippled and she inched lower. One tentative touch of her mouth to his erection and he jerked, pulling away and lunging up to catch her hands.

“You do that and I will come in about thirty seconds,” he warned, his face tight. A vein throbbed in his forehead and his blue eyes were dark with a need she understood only too well.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” she teased, stroking the hard length of him with her palm from balls to tip and back. He hissed out a breath and buried his face against her neck. He bit her, the lightest grazing of his teeth, then he sucked at her skin and a fresh riot of sensations broke out over her.

“It is when I want to come inside you.” The rawness undid her. The strength of his touch, the naked vulnerability in his words and the passion in his eyes seduced her objections. She lifted her hands in surrender, tipping her chin back and thrusting her breasts toward him.

“Thirty seconds,” she advised, a playful grin tipping her lips. “And then all bets are off.”

Her heart hiccupped as his full lips turned in another devastating grin. He ripped the foil on the package and she watched as he rolled the condom into place. The ache between her thighs became a demanding pulse. She wanted to touch him. She wanted to skate her fingers over every muscle, explore every twitch, drown in the contact of his skin against hers. All the reasons they shouldn’t do this evaporated.

When he settled between her thighs and slid into her inch by glorious inch, a laugh escaped and she caught his shoulders, twined her legs around his hips and squeezed. He thrust into her, stretching her, filling her, and she came apart all over again. Their mouths locked in a duel of tongues as he drove into her over and over again. His hands touched her everywhere and she shaped hers over his taut buttocks, dragging, encouraging him, driving him deeper. The hum in her mind turned into a full-fledged symphony and this time when she flung off the edge, his shout carried him with her.

* * *

He needed to roll off of her, but every muscle in his body trembled with the release. His mind pitched between stirring to kiss her again and just lying there, savoring the warmth of her body nestled against his.

They’d certainly violated the no-sex clause. That thought and that thought alone nudged him into action.

He shifted, peeling himself upward. Her eyes opened, revealing lazy pleasure, and he gave in to the temptation of her plump lips, swollen from his kisses, to taste her again. She slid warm arms around him and nuzzled his lips, soft, open and willing to his invasion.

Need thrummed through him and his cock twitched. They were going to need another condom. A box of condoms. He would invest in a damn condom company. He traced the liquid kisses across her cheek and nibbled at her earlobe. The soft flesh tasted sweet—the delicate, feminine citrusy scent of her filled his nostrils. He inhaled a long, drugging hit of it and sighed against her.

So many things he wanted to do to her—and with her. A knock on the door rapped reality back into their sensual interlude and he lifted his head, glaring at the door. “What?”

Her body clenched around him and his gaze swooped down to her suppressed giggles. The desire in her eyes lightening to amusement and he couldn’t help but grin.

“Mr. Voldakov—Miss Dagmar—” He heard a man clearing his throat. “Breakfast is served in the atrium.”

Daniel groaned. She nibbled his throat.

The man at their door coughed lightly. “Please pardon the intrusion, but the presentation will begin in a few minutes.”

Presentation.

Breakfast.

Their Napa Valley hosts.

He just didn’t give a damn.

Her voice was a throaty whisper in his ear. “We go home tonight. We can afford to go down and be seen.”

He grimaced. He had no desire to leave this room or this bed in the foreseeable future. A shuffling sound in the hallway warned him that the man waited for a response.

“We will be along shortly,” he grumbled. He scowled and at Alyx’s arched brows, he tacked on, “Thank you.”

“Very good, sir. Thank you both.” The man at the door left, and Daniel decided to ignore him. He wanted to play with her breasts and see how many licks it took to get her to gasp again, but she gave him a little push.

“No, no. We have to go down, remember.”

“I would be happy to go down on you.” He grinned and she rewarded him with another throaty laugh. She kissed his chin, his cheek, and then the corner of his mouth. He slanted his head, taking the kiss and drawing on her tongue as she darted it against his. Her nails glided down his spine and his cock twitched again. Just a few more minutes and he’d be more than ready. But her nails pinched his ass and he lifted his head to find her amused gaze, albeit fogged with desire, staring up at him.

“We have to shower and get dressed.” But her eyes held the promise of more.

“I don’t want to.” It was probably the single most petulant thing he’d ever said, but she was already wiggling out of his arms. As she slid off the edge of the bed, he felt bereft.

“I know, but we go home after breakfast. Depending on how fast you drive, we could make it in time for a long—long nap.” Her saucy little wink eased the disappointment at having to get up. She sashayed to the bathroom, completely unabashed at her nudity. At the door, she glanced back. “Aren’t you coming?”

His brows rose.

“They seemed to be in a hurry. We could save time and water if we showered together.”

The disappointment ballooning in his gut punctured with a fresh wave of heat. He lunged off the bed and caught her. Picking her up, he carried her into the shower and pressed her against the cool tile, mouth fixing against hers. Somewhere between kissing her and soaping her breasts, she wiggled an escape and teased his cock back to full life.

They were late for breakfast.

Daniel didn’t give a damn.

Chapter Seventeen

Han Takahashi was an absolute gentleman, but he definitely wasn’t comfortable with dancing. Alyx held herself loosely in his arms as they waltzed around the floor. The private party took place in the executive suites of the Takahashi building. Over his shoulder she caught sight of Daniel and smiled. He grinned, leaning against the bar, surrounded by the company’s executives, and his gaze never left hers.

“Thank you for the dance, Your Highness.” Takahashi’s words jerked her attention back, which was probably a good thing. She and Daniel had barely come up for air since returning from Napa. He’d canceled appointments, preferring to stay in bed. She’d discovered that he could debug his programs naked—an issue apparently when she completely distracted him.

They were like a pair of randy teenagers, barely able to keep their hands off each other. The balloon of lust floated them higher and higher.

But tonight’s dinner party was unavoidable. The CEO of the Takahashi Corporation flew all the way to Los Angeles just to meet with Daniel and to thank him personally for Spherecast’s assistance in recovering so many of their files. Those meetings meant she’d barely seen Daniel all day, but she could feel his gaze sliding over her with every turn around the dance floor—caressing her skin, teasing her senses.

The music ended and Takahashi released her. He offered her the most formal of bows and she returned it, perfectly.
Thank you
,
Victor
,
for that lesson.

A hand glided up her spine as the music began again. Daniel smiled at the CEO. “If you will allow me a few moments, Mr. Takahashi, I’ll join you and your board for drinks after.”

“Of course.” Takahashi bowed again and Daniel tugged her into his arms. She fit against him, and the room’s occupants faded as they danced.

“He really likes you.” She smiled up at him.

“Oh? The man is hard to read.”

“Maybe.” She followed him on the slow circuit of the floor, drifting with him and teasing herself with a desire that had hours to go before they could fulfill it. “But unlike everyone else I danced with tonight, all he wanted to discuss was his admiration for your work.”

“Really? That was kind of him. All anyone else wants to talk about is how beautiful you are.” The compliment wrapped her up in an embrace that almost matched the warmth surrounding her from his arms.

“I find that hard to believe. These men look so serious.” She teased, but it wasn’t a joke, exactly. Most of the men in attendance at the party wore smart suits, buttoned down and engaged in earnest discussions. The subjects included everything from financial recovery to advertising methods to penetrate a dense market and of course, the challenges that arose in the wake of the natural disaster that nearly cost them their corporate data.

Despite Daniel’s assertion, his name came up in every conversation—his name and the reliability of Spherecast to develop the right software for the right problem. He was the star tonight and she couldn’t be prouder.

“Want to know a secret?” His lips brushed her ear.

“Is that a trick question?” One song dovetailed into the next and despite his assurance to his host, he seemed to have no intention of leaving her yet.

“Martin told me Takahashi approached him with an exclusive offer to use only Spherecast software. It’ll take about a year to transition all their systems, rewrite some code and get it working, but he
is
interested.”

“Daniel, that’s amazing.” She cupped his face in her hands, her heart swelled for him. She hadn’t missed the hours he’d poured into this project. Despite all the programmers and developers working for him, he’d dedicated dozens of long nights to perfecting the program.

“It’s pretty awesome.” He grinned again, twirling her a little faster than the music called for. “I’ll have to go to Tokyo in a couple of months. Do you like sushi?”

Martin appeared at their elbows and she swallowed her answer. “Sorry to interrupt you lovebirds, but Takahashi would like to sit down with you now, Daniel.”

The nervous flutters in her stomach beat a rhythm and she squeezed his arms. “You can do this.” She didn’t know why she felt the urge to encourage him, but his quick inhalation and the taut flex of his throat suggested he was a lot more nervous than he let on. He stilled, gazing into her eyes, and his expression relaxed, a smile warming his lips before he brushed her mouth with a whisper of a kiss.

“Thank you.”

“I’ll be here when you get back.” A promise.

“You better be.” He squeezed her hand and then he was gone, striding across the room, every inch the confident sun god who blew into her life and turned it upside down. Pride shimmered through her as she watched him greet the executives and they trickled out to a private conference room. He took Martin with him—she trusted the lawyer to look after him. Jittery with nerves, she accepted a glass of wine from the waitress and murmured a thank-you. Sipping the alcohol, she drifted across the room to the great paned windows that looked out over the glittering jewel of Los Angeles’s nightscape.

It was easy to forget that beneath the smog and glamour pulsed a very real city. Standing inside the tower, she could see all the way to the ocean. It was a rare, clear view, the Santa Ana winds having pushed all the tendrils of haze away, leaving the night gleaming with spotlights, strobes and towers that reached up like fingers to stroke the stars.

“Your Highness? Please pardon the intrusion.”

No matter how much she practiced with Victor, it was always a jolt when someone else said it. She glanced up at the reflection in the glass behind her. She didn’t recognize the gentleman, so she turned, a polite smile on her face. “Please, call me Alyx or Miss Dagmar. It’s a little less of a mouthful than Your Highness.” And so much easier to respond to, but she avoided adding the caveat.

“Miss Dagmar. My name is Richard Prentiss.” He withdrew a card and handed it to her. She glanced down at the heavily embossed cardstock. The symbol in the corner was an elegant crest—one she recognized.

It represented her family.

She studied him. He didn’t resemble any of the photos she’d memorized nor did his features suggest a personal relationship with her. “Mr. Prentiss, it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” Extending her hand, she wasn’t surprised when he bowed over it and brushed a kiss lightly to the air over one knuckle. It was a kind, respectful greeting.

“And a rare pleasure to make yours. I understand that you are attending this function to support your fiancé, Mr. Voldakov.”

She didn’t have to manufacture the soft smile curving her lips. “Yes, he’s done some wonderful work for the Takahashi Corporation and they are showing him a rare honor with this party. I would introduce you, but...” She motioned to the conference room Daniel vanished into.

“I would enjoy such an introduction but I am actually here for two reasons and I hope you’ll forgive the minor subterfuge.”

Sipping the wine, she resisted the urge to rub her suddenly damp palms against her dress. What subterfuge? The vellum card weighed heavily in her hand. Instead, she focused on breathing, calm, and canting her head to suggest a hint of patient curiosity. Hours of drills with Victor paid off in that moment. “And what subterfuge would that be, Mr. Prentiss?”

The man had the good grace to flush, a hint of red staining his ears. “To inquire whether you would accept an invitation from your cousin, His Highness, the Grand Duke Armand.”

My cousin.

A second jolt in as many minutes and her confidence wavered. The grand duke divided his time between his native Norway and France most of the year. The newspapers referred to him as a playboy, often featuring photographs of the prince with a host of women at various functions throughout Europe.

“Because an invitation cannot be extended if I will not accept.” It was a statement, not a question. Protocol demanded that no one could turn down the royal family, whether they were a displaced one or not. It was how the royals played.

“Precisely, Your Highness, and I apologize for putting you on the spot. His Highness recognizes that you may be reluctant to see him and asked that I extend to you his deepest desire to make your acquaintance. If you could see it in your heart to accept his invitation, he would like a chance to speak with you in person.” There was a subtext to his words, a suggestion that the grand duke wanted to do more than just talk to
her
. The jittery butterflies in her stomach flapped harder. This was exactly the type of invitation Daniel wanted, the reason he’d approached her. Access to the grand duke and his European connections could help him launch Spherecast’s influence in the EU.

So why did she hesitate?

“I’m not entirely sure what my schedule is.” That seemed the safest answer and her heart beat against her ribs so hard, she was certain he could hear it. “But if you would let me pass this card to my assistant, I can have him get in touch with you.” She tucked the card into her clutch, careful to make sure it slid inside before she snapped the little purse closed.

“Absolutely.” Prentiss’s expression relaxed and he smiled. “Which brings us to the second reason for my approach.”

The reminder that he had two reasons ramped her already emotionally unsettled state closer to full-blown panic. She took another sip of the wine and prayed the alcohol would relax the jangling of her nerves. Amazingly, her voice didn’t betray a quaver. “I am filled with curiosity.”

Prentiss actually grinned at that, some of the stiffness leaving his shoulders. Dark haired and dark eyed, he cut a striking image in his equally dark suit but she cataloged his looks more from a clinical standpoint.

His darkness couldn’t compete with the sunshine in Daniel.

“To give you a gift. Your birthday is approaching and whether you accept the invitation or not, the grand duke wanted you to have this.”

He held out a small box, wrapped in a simple gold foil. She had to set her wineglass down and slipped her clutch purse’s strap over her shoulder to take the box. Eagerness flared inside, pushing away the anxiety. “I’m surprised he would send such a gift, considering we have never met.” Maybe it wasn’t politically correct to say such a thing, but the sentiment remained genuine.

“He has many years to make up for and while this simple gift cannot possibly repair such a history of oversight, he hopes that you will wear it with the pride you should. His words, exactly, Highness.” Prentiss gave her another kind look and party or not, she slid one manicured nail through the tape and revealed a velvet jewelry box. She glanced at him before lifting the lid. Inside nestled a lovely cameo on a silver strand. But instead of a profile, it was her family crest set against a background of royal blue.

The breath caught in her throat and tears swam across her vision. “How can he accept me? Just like that?” She forgot about the rules, the manners and the control she’d worked to perfect.

“You are the image of your great-grandmother, Your Highness. If you’ll look beneath the necklace, he included a small photo of her. He has no doubts that you are indeed the grand duchess and he is most eager to welcome you to the family.”

The tears prickling her eyes threatened to spill. She chewed at her bottom lip and blinked at him. Prentiss shifted with just the barest hint of discomfort. Daniel appeared in her periphery, an arm snaking around her waist.

“Are you all right?” He murmured the words to her, but set a hard look on the gentleman talking to her.

She gave a watery little laugh and nodded, holding the necklace over to show him. “Daniel, this is Richard Prentiss, he’s—I’m not sure if you work for him or are just associated with the grand duke?” She glanced back to Prentiss.

“I’m a personal friend. Armand and I went to university together.” He extended a hand to Daniel, who accepted it only briefly, but continued to stare hard at him until Prentiss cleared his throat and retreated a step. “If you will excuse me, Your Highness, Mr. Voldakov. I will await your assistant’s call.”

“Yes.” She cleared her throat, embarrassed at the tears leaking from the corners of her eyes. “Thank you and please—please—pass my thanks on to the grand duke as well.” She tried to clear her throat, but too much clogged it. The tenderness from Daniel cuddling her side, the weight of the family necklace in her hands and the encouragement of a man she’d never met who accepted her as a member of his family.

Her head spun from all of it.

Prentiss excused himself and Daniel circled around to block her from the rest of the room. He held out a handkerchief and she dabbed at her eyes again, trying to quell the unfamiliar tears.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” He frowned.

“I’m fine. Really—I think I’m more than fine. I wasn’t—I wasn’t expecting anyone to approach me tonight, you know, not from him. He’s my cousin—third cousin once removed or something like that. But he wants to meet me and more than that—” she held up the necklace, tears threatening again, “—whether I want to see him or not, he sent this as a token to acknowledge me as a member of the family and for my birthday.”

“Your birthday...” Daniel exhaled and she saw his pained look. He’d not realized. “When is it?”

“Oh, that’s not important. I don’t know why this is getting to me so much.” She really didn’t. Why should a stranger’s approval touch her so deeply?

Her thumb traced the crest. Before three months ago, before Daniel, she’d never heard of the Andraste royal line, much less imagined herself a part of it. She was a waitress working her ass off between auditions, an actress desperate to make her mark and break out of the fifty-dollar-a-day extra jobs.

Now she was the Grand Duchess Alyxandretta and none of Victor’s lessons could prepare her for the weight of that responsibility.

“Well, I beg to differ. It is important.” Daniel closed his hand over hers on the necklace. “In the meantime, contracts have been proposed and it’s up to Martin to hammer it all out. Want to run away with me for a while?”

She sniffled and grinned. “Running away to Beverly Hills isn’t exactly running away.”