The Lord's Passionate Lover (The Royals of Monaco, #3) (7 page)

“I do not want to,” he said and moved closer to her. Francesca took a step back.

“I thought I was a bad kisser.”

“You are,” he said as he put his hand on her cheek and caressed her face with his thumb.

“So why do you want to kiss me?” Francesca asked as she began to take shallow breaths. She was so nervous. Olivier dipped his head close to hers and pressed a small kiss to her lips.

“Let me teach you,” he said.

“I don't need you to,” she whispered.

“Oh, but you want me to,” he whispered back as he pressed another feather light kiss to her lips. “Follow my lead.” As Francesca opened her mouth to protest, he took advantage as he slowly sucked her lower lip in his mouth. Moaning in surprise, she grabbed his arms to support herself as she felt her legs shake. Wrapping his arms around her, he pulled her tightly against him, as he dipped his tongue in to explore her mouth gently. Tentatively copying his movements, she kissed him back as their tongues danced together. Deepening the kiss, he slid his fingers up to tangle in her hair as he held her against him.

“That was better,” he said as he broke the kiss. He found that despite her inexperience, he liked how her lips felt against his and how easily she melted against him. He wanted to kiss her more but he had to control himself as they were in the palace after all.

Francesca cleared her throat. “Goodnight,” she said and walked off as fast as her legs could carry her without breaking into a run. She was out of breath and her heart was beating fast. She hated how much she wanted to avoid him and kiss him at the same time. It was driving her crazy. This kiss was better than the last. He was so much better than her last boyfriend was. It made sense, Olivier was older and definitely more experienced. Either way, she wanted to get back to her quarters and forget that it had just happened again.

F
or days, Francesca lingered in the palace hallways hoping to bump into Olivier. She knew it was ridiculous. He was too old for her but she could not stop thinking about him. After that last kiss they had in the hallway, she really wanted to see him again, but she did not want it to look contrived. And the more she wandered the palace, the more she felt as though she looked like a love struck teen girl.

She finally saw him unexpectedly six days later. She was sitting on a bench in the garden looking at the stars when she saw him approach her. She did not turn her head and pretended as though she had not seen him.

“I am aware that you have seen me already,” Olivier said as he sat down next to her.

“What are you talking about?” Francesca asked. She hated how obvious she was to him.

“It is a bit late to be outside is it not?” 

“Not for star gazing,” she replied. “It is late for you be in the palace, is it not?” Not that she was complaining. She had given up on running into him around the palace. Had she thought that she would see him this evening, she would have dressed better. 

“I had work to do.”

“You sure work a lot.” Francesca was not keen on small talk. All she could think about was the feel of his lips on her. She hated that she had turned into this kind of woman, but she could not help herself.

“I aim to do my job well.”

Francesca turned to look at him. He was looking into the distance. He turned his head and found her looking at him. “What is on your mind?” he asked her.

“Nothing at all,” she said and looked away. She did not have the courage to kiss him first. She wondered what was taking him so long to kiss her.

“It would seem there is.”

“Well there isn't. I shall retire to bed now,” she said as she started to stand.

“You want me to kiss you.”

Francesca whipped her head in his direction. How was it that he knew what she was thinking all the time? She thought she had trained herself to hide her emotions. “What? That is preposterous!” she lied. She tried to stand again, but he grabbed her hand and pulled her back down.

“My dear, it so easy to read you. You betray your thoughts with your eyes.”

Francesca shook her arm free. “I don't know what you are talking about but I do not want to kiss you,” she said. She almost swore when she felt her cheeks heat up. She knew they were turning red.

“So you say. But if you want to kiss me, then do so.”

“I don't.” Even though she denied it, her tone betrayed her.

“Really?” Olivier was not convinced as he moved closer to her. His gaze darkened as he stared at her. He so badly wanted to touch her. He had mixed feelings about her as no woman had ever stirred his emotions this much in such a short time, not even his ex-wife. The first time he saw Francesca, he thought that she was the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on. As he got to know her, he found that she did not speak or treat him with much respect, which he found intriguing as no woman ever spoke to him that way before.

Olivier reached out and caressed her face with his hand as he traced her jaw with his thumb. Francesca slapped his hand away. She did not want to make it obvious that she wanted him to kiss her. He raised an eyebrow. He moved even closer to her and pressed his lips against hers. He quickly deepened the kiss and slid his tongue in her mouth. She put her hand on his chest and managed to push him away before slapping him.

“Stop kissing me,” she said. She stared at him as she took ragged breaths. Her cheeks had turned bright red as she fumed. Olivier flinched when she slapped him, but he refused to rub his cheek.

“You are incredibly confused as to what you want,” he said. His voice was so deep and alluring, Francesca felt her insides melt. He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her tightly to him before he kissed her. This time, his kiss was demanding as he plundered her mouth possessively. Francesca leaned into him as she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back.

Loosening his grip on her, he caressed her back as he tangled his fingers in her hair. He really liked it when it was down as he found himself wanting to stroke her silken tresses. As Francesca rubbed her hands down his chest and over his arms, she moaned when she felt how strong he was. As her hand found its way to his face, she enjoyed the feel of his facial hair under her fingertips. Most men she knew were cleanly shaven all the time and she wondered what it would feel like on other parts of her body as she shivered at the thought. She liked how he felt and had to resist the urge to rip his shirt open; she did not want him to think that she wanted him that much.

He watched her as she touched him. It had been so long since he had been with a woman and he found that he enjoyed how she felt. He so badly wanted to take her right there out in the garden, but he was determined to be a gentleman. He respected the fact that she had kept her virtue and carried herself like a respectable woman. Her only flaws were her shyness, which he found a bit endearing, and her lack of respect in how she addressed him.

“I am in pretty good shape for a man my age,” he said to her as Francesca looked at him.

“What?” she asked.

“You expressed that I am too old for you.”

“I did not.”

“You implied it when you pointed out our age difference.”

Francesca cleared her throat and looked away. His age was not an issue for her, in fact she preferred him over the immature boys she had dated. She had just used it as an excuse to deny the confusing feelings she felt inside. But now she couldn’t deny it any longer.

He laughed gently as he caressed her silken skin. She closed her eyes, wanting to remember this moment. After a few moments, she opened her eyes in frustration. Grabbing his hand, she placed it on her breast as she stared at him.

Olivier masked his surprise, as he did not want her to stop. He found that he liked her sudden forwardness and he could feel her breast seem to swell in his hand. Cupping her breasts, he rubbed his thumbs over her nipples as they swelled to tight nubs.

Swaying slightly, Francesca closed her eyes as she surrendered herself to the pleasurable sensations he was creating. Dipping his head, he captured her lips as he continued to massage her breasts.

Breaking the kiss, he leaned his forehead against hers as he took a deep breath. “We have to stop,” he said, as he took a deep breath.

“Why?” she asked breathlessly.

“Because, if we don’t stop now, I won’t want to and that isn’t fair to you.”

“What do you mean?”

“Your virtue, Francesca. You arouse me like no woman has done in a very long time and I’ve no wish to damage your virtue.”

They heard voices. Francesca quickly straightened her dress and got to her feet, as she saw palace guards approaching them. They were on patrol as usual. They greeted her and Lord Jacques and then carried on walking.

“I must get to bed now,” Francesca said, as she turned to walk into the palace.

“Well then, goodnight,” he said. As Francesca walked away, she held her hand to her stomach hoping to tame the butterflies dancing merrily inside her. Lord Jacques ran his hand through his hair as he watched her walk away. Things had gotten heated up too quickly. She sent him mixed signals, as she seemed hopelessly confused as to what she wanted from him. 

L
ord Jacques had just come out of a meeting. Throughout the whole meeting he had not been able to focus. All he could think of was Francesca. Her deep brown eyes, silky hair, but most of all the way she responded to him. He loved making her smile, it lit his whole world up. She had been on his mind all weekend. Since his ex-wife, he had not thought about any woman like that. As he sat down at his desk, his thoughts returned to Francesca as he remembered how she felt and smelled.

He looked up when he heard the door open. He raised his eyebrows when he saw Francesca walk in and shut the door behind her as she leaned against it looking at him.

“Miss LeBlanc, this is a surprise,” he said as he stood up from his desk.

“What do you want from me?” she asked him.

“Excuse me?”

“You kiss me and I find that I can’t stop thinking about it.” Lord Jacques started smiling, as she held up her hand. “Please don’t smile. You have no idea how frustrating this is. I don't like you, I don't like speaking to you, you are too old for me, you can read me like no one else,” she listed as her voice trailed off. Francesca realised that she was not making sense but she needed to get it off her chest.

“Like I stated before, you are confused about what it is that you want.”

Yet again, he was able to see through her. How did he do that? She had yet to be able to read him. In fact, she had no idea what he was thinking. “Why aren't you interested in a woman your age?” she asked him. It bared no relevance to what they were talking about but she blurted out the first thing that came out of her mouth.

“Should I?”

“Shouldn't you?”

“Miss LeBlanc, why did you come here?” He stepped from around his desk.

“No, stay there!” Francesca called out. She could not handle being close to him. “I only have five minutes. I came with Macee, she came to see Prince Louis,” she added, as she realized that she was rambling. Lord Jacques did not listen to her, as he walked towards her. “Stay there!” she shouted. He raised his eyebrows and stopped walking.

“I affect you that much?”

“That is not the point.” Francesca ran her hand through her hair. She was starting to forget the reason why she came there in the first place. “I don't know you.” She really needed to think about what she wanted to say before she said it.

“Do you want to know me?”

“Yes. No.” Francesca groaned, as he laughed.

“You do know me,” he said to her.

“Do I?”

“You do.”

“I only know that you are divorced, have no children, you are thirty-six years old, you work in the palace as the crown prince's advisor, you exercise a lot, you’ve been building boats since you were seventeen, you studied physics and economics at university. I don't even know why, there is no link,” Francesca’s voice trailed off. She realised that she knew quite a lot about this mysterious man.

Lord Jacques watched her conflicting emotions flit across her face. Cupping the side of her face, he waited until she looked at him. “Do you want to know why I have an interest in you?” he asked as Francesca nodded.

“How do you always know what I am thinking? It's so frustrating. I am not this transparent. I refuse to accept that.”

“We are connected,” he told her as he rubbed the side of her face. Francesca frowned at him. She did not want a connection; at least she did not think so. She had never had one with anyone before, so she had no idea what it looked like or if she wanted one. “You are the most beautiful woman I have ever laid my eyes on,” he said.

“What?”

“You want to know what I want from you and why I have an interest. So I am telling you.” Francesca nodded. “There is something about you that is so intriguing that I find myself wanting to know more. From the very first time I laid eyes on you, I have felt drawn to you,” he added.

“There is nothing interesting about me,” she responded as she attempted to look away.

Grasping her chin, he turned her head back to him. “On the contrary, there is plenty.”

“Is there?” Francesca found it hard to believe. At this point, she was not doing anything with her life. She put her hands on his chest. She was not that girl. She always kept her hands to herself but it was as if his chest was calling to her. She remembered how hard it was and she wanted to touch it again.

“Yes. You are the most wonderful, profoundly challenging, intelligent, beautiful person I have ever met. Before you I never thought I would love again, I swore off women, but you changed everything. You, Francesca.”

Lord Jacques let her touch him for a moment before he kissed her.
Finally
Francesca thought to herself. When he kissed her, it felt as if all her nerves were on fire. She felt pleasure in every part of her body as her knees weakened and she found herself leaning against him for support. He kissed her so gently and softly.

“Do you understand now?” he asked her as he held her in his arms. She felt so small and fragile as he looked down at her and kissed her forehead. Francesca knew that she had to go but she did not want to leave the comfort of his embrace. She liked being his arms.