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Authors: Nell Stark

BOOK: The Princess Affair
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The meal passed in a haze of agonizing anticipation that didn’t improve in the slightest when the group retired to the downstairs game room. The trustees, along with the most extroverted members of Kerry’s group, monopolized Sasha’s attention. When she perched on a stool before the beautiful, dark-stained oak bar, they hovered around her like moths drawn to a flame. As much as she wanted to join in their discussion, Kerry didn’t think she would be able to get a word in edgewise. And so she found herself drinking Scotch and playing chess with Kieran in the corner, alternately cursing her introversion and admiring the smoothness of the Macallan 30. Harris would have tried to help her, she knew, but he was busy flirting with Brent. Perhaps that was for the best. Any of his schemes would doubtless get her into trouble.

Just shy of ten o’clock, Sasha announced that it was time for her to retire. She didn’t even look Kerry’s way as she left the room. Kerry glumly checkmated Kieran’s queen a few minutes later, not feeling victorious in the slightest. She begged off a rematch and found Harris playing pool with Brent.

“I’m going to sleep. See you at the brunch?”

Harris pulled her into a hug. “Did something happen?” he whispered. “Are you okay?”

“I’m just fine,” she said firmly. “Have fun. See you tomorrow.”

Kerry’s footsteps echoed through the halls as she walked slowly back to her room, and for those few minutes, she indulged herself in the fantasy that this was a Gothic castle rather than a product of the nineteenth-century Gothic Revival. Of course, she knew too much about the medieval period to romanticize it for long. Between the plagues, the wars, and the lack of any modern convenience, it certainly hadn’t been an easy time in which to live.

She was so preoccupied with her daydream that she didn’t notice the dark blue envelope on the floor of her room until she stepped on it. Someone must have slipped it beneath the door. Heart pounding, her fatigue fell away like a cloak as she bent to pick it up and saw her name written in an elegant script. Not wanting to tear it any more than necessary, she carefully pushed her finger beneath the flap.

Inside, she found a small bone-white card emblazoned with the colorful seal of the royal family. But when she looked closer, she noticed that the crest differed from King Andrew’s in a few, very minor respects. The children of a British monarch each had their own crests—she knew that much. Was this Sasha’s? She flipped the card over.

Come to the northern wing. Present this card to the guards there.

That was all it said. No “please,” not even so much as a question mark. It was a demand, but Kerry wasn’t affronted by Sasha’s presumptiveness. Quite the opposite. Despite her misgivings, there was never any question of her obedience.

“But you will not sleep with her,” she muttered as she slipped the card into her jacket pocket. “Not tonight.”

Hurrying back down the hall, she bypassed the staircase and continued on until she reached the intersection leading to the north wing. Immediately, she found her passage blocked by a broad-shouldered man in a dark suit. Not Ian—someone she didn’t recognize.

“Good evening,” she said, praying her voice would remain steady. “I received this a short while ago.”

He perused the card and nodded once. “This way, please.”

He led her to the second door on the right and knocked. A few moments later, Sasha opened it. She was still wearing the dress, but she’d abandoned her beige heels in favor of going barefoot. That tiny change made her seem more carefree, somehow. More accessible.

“Hello, Kerry.” She turned to the guard. “Thank you, Darryl. That will be all.”

The door shut with a hollow click. They were alone together. In Sasha’s bedroom. Kerry suddenly found it difficult to swallow. The expression on her face must have betrayed her, because Sasha smiled knowingly and reached for her hand. But instead of pressing her against the wall in a repeat of their tryst at the club, she tugged her forward.

“I’m glad you came. I wanted to show you the view from my balcony.”

As she was pulled across the room, Kerry caught a glimpse of a large four-poster bed, complete with a canopy. That was all the detail she managed to catch before Sasha opened a set of French doors and urged her out into the night. The balcony held two deck chairs, but Sasha eschewed them to lean against the parapet.

One step behind her, Kerry paused, riveted by the view. The moon, nearly full, hung precisely between two of the distant mountains. Its light cascaded over the hills, drenching them in silver leaf. When Sasha turned to see what had become of her, the moonlight played across her delicate features, lending them an otherworldly look.

“Isn’t it perfect?”

Kerry stepped forward to rest her elbows on the cool stone. “Stunning. I wish I were a painter.”

“I prefer photography myself. I snapped quite a few shots before you arrived.”

“May I see them?”

Sasha slid her arm the fraction of an inch required to eliminate the space between them. Even that light touch, separated by several layers of fabric, sent a fresh surge of anticipation coursing through Kerry’s blood.

“You’ll have to be patient. I develop my nature shots by hand.”

“I can wait.”

“Can you?”

Kerry looked over to see the hint of a smile curving Sasha’s lips. Blindsided by the urge to lean in and claim her tantalizing mouth, Kerry balled her hands into fists and averted her gaze. She had to get control of herself. At the light touch on her shoulder, her muscles tensed.

“Is something wrong?”

Kerry exhaled slowly and turned back to face her. The teasing smile was gone, replaced by a puzzled frown, and Kerry wanted to smooth out the furrowed skin between her brows.

“No. Not at all. It’s just that I’m confused.”

“By?”

Kerry knew she was supposed to play Sasha’s flirtatious game, but she simply couldn’t find the will. She wasn’t naturally good at it, and trying only sapped her mental reserves.

“Why am I standing here with you right now?”

Sasha cocked her head. “Because you accepted my invitations. Both of them.”

“Did you…” Kerry felt her face heat at the audacity of the question on her lips. “Did you design some of this weekend with me in mind? That feels so preposterous to ask, but—”

Sasha pressed one finger to her lips to stop her babbling. The gesture brought back an onslaught of memories from their night at Summa, and Kerry trembled despite herself.

“My father asked me to organize an event for your group.” When Sasha let her hand drop, Kerry immediately missed her touch. “I wanted to be certain I’d see you again, and so I made arrangements with that goal in mind.”

“Why?”

“Why?”

“Why would you want to see me again?”

Sasha searched her eyes for a moment before answering. “You intrigue me. I want to know you better. Why does that surprise you?”

Kerry gripped the stone and leaned back, turning her face up to the sky. “Because we don’t have a thing in common. We come from completely different worlds. You’re a princess of the United Kingdom. I’m the daughter of a roofer—”

“You’re a genius. I’m a bloody imbecile.” The unexpected words were saturated in bitterness. “Fine. I understand. I’ll walk you out.”

She had one hand on the balcony doors before Kerry got over her shock.

“Sasha! Wait. Don’t put words in my mouth. Never once have I thought you’re a—an imbecile.”

“Of course you do. Everyone does.”

“That’s not true. I don’t.” She took a deep breath, praying for the right words. “I think you’re one of the most captivating people I’ve ever met. I think there are many, many more layers to you than most people see.”

Sasha turned slowly. “Why should I believe you?”

“Why should I believe you?” Kerry threw the words back, refusing to be bullied. But when uncertainty flashed across Sasha’s face, the uncharacteristic show of vulnerability made Kerry’s heart ache. She held up her hands in a gesture of surrender.

“Let’s start over. The truth is that I’ve been trying not to think about you for the past few weeks, but I’ve failed miserably. You look beautiful tonight, and this event is simply incredible. I don’t know what you want from me, or whether it’s something I can give. But truthfully, I’m starting not to care.”

Sasha took one step forward and then another. Kerry held her breath and let her hands slowly drop to her sides as she approached. When only a foot separated them, Sasha reached out to adjust the collar of Kerry’s jacket. The unexpected intimacy of the gesture made Kerry breathless.

“You’re honest. I like that about you.” Her quick smile was rueful. “Honesty can be difficult to come by.”

“Occupational hazard?” Kerry didn’t trust herself to attempt a full sentence.

“Something like that.” Sasha brushed her knuckles along Kerry’s jawline in a fleeting caress. “Do you really think we have nothing in common, just because we were born into different lives?”

The question pierced to the heart of Kerry’s insecurity. “When you put it that way, what I said sounds pretty silly.”

“Exactly.”

Sasha finally closed the space between them, and Kerry inhaled sharply at the sensation of their bodies pressed together. Tentatively, she rested her hands on Sasha’s waist, enjoying the slip-slide of the cool silk beneath her fingertips.

“You’ve been brave and honest. Now it’s my turn.” Sasha rested both hands on Kerry’s shoulders, peering intently into her face. “All I know is that I’ve replayed our kiss a thousand times in my memory. For whatever reason, we have incredible chemistry. I want to see if it means anything.”

Kerry’s head spun at the news that Sasha felt just as intensely about their encounter. Beneath the dizziness, she struggled to formulate a coherent response. “What exactly are you suggesting?”

Sasha seemed amused by the strangled sound of her voice. “I’m simply suggesting that we spend some time together. Does that sound like something you’d enjoy?”

“Yes.” The simple syllable was so easy to say. “Very much.”

Sasha slid her hands to the back of Kerry’s neck and gently began to massage the taut muscles there. Kerry’s eyes slid shut automatically, though she managed to stop herself from moaning. Those muscles were a source of near chronic pain, and Sasha’s fingers felt so good.

“For this to work,” Sasha murmured, “you have to be able to relax. Do you even know how?”

Kerry forced her eyes to open. “I do have some trouble with that.”

“We have an excellent masseuse on the premises. I’ll schedule you something with him tomorrow.”

“No, no, that’s really not—”

Sasha tugged at the short hairs on the back of Kerry’s head. “Don’t argue.”

Kerry felt her entire body go liquid at Sasha’s assertive tone, and she subtly leaned more of her weight back against the stone balustrade. “Okay,” she finally managed. “Thank you. How can I repay you?”

The mischievous smile that rose to Sasha’s lips sent a chill shivering up Kerry’s spine, but any anxiety she should have felt was obliterated by the surge of arousal that quickened her blood.

“Do you ride?”

Unbidden, Kerry flashed to an image of Sasha on her hands and knees, moaning softly as Kerry cupped her hips and teased her skin with gentle strokes, poised to—

Ruthlessly, she quashed the fantasy. “Wh-what?”

Sasha’s fingers stilled and she tilted her head back. “Do you ride horses?” When her smile deepened, Kerry knew her Irish coloring had given her away. “What exactly were you just
thinking?”

Kerry cleared her throat. “Ah. Yes, I can ride. I’m no steeplechase champion, but I’m proficient.”

Thankfully, Sasha let her get away with the redirect. “Something you’re not perfect at? I’m shocked.”

“Why do you ask?”

“I want you to ride with me tomorrow morning. Though it will have to be early if we’re to be back before brunch.” She pursed her lips, considering. “This is the second time already I’ll be rising early to spend time with you.”

“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”

“I haven’t decided yet.” Releasing her grip, she stepped away. Kerry immediately felt bereft. “The stables are a quarter mile’s walk from the castle, just past the western gardens. Do you think you’ll be able to find them?”

“I have an excellent sense of direction.” Kerry tapped the side of her head, even as every cell in her body clamored for Sasha’s return.

“Meet me there at seven o’clock sharp.” She walked toward the door and Kerry dutifully followed.

At the last possible moment, Sasha turned, rose onto her toes, and pressed the briefest of kisses to the left corner of Kerry’s mouth.

“Good night.”

The door latched shut, and just like that, she was gone, leaving the faint scent of lilacs behind.

Chapter Eight
 

The sun had just begun to clear the jagged horizon as Kerry stepped out of the castle. With Sasha’s directions in mind, she turned her back to the brightening sky and began to walk briskly along the gravel path. Tendrils of mist curled around the mountains like the tail of a dark gray cat, and she rubbed her palms together to generate some heat against the damp chill. She was dressed in the warmest clothes she’d packed: jeans and a bulky, hand-knit wool sweater procured last year in Ireland by her aunt. Footwear was her only problem; she’d brought loafers and sneakers, but no boots. Hopefully, she could borrow a pair.

As the path made a sharp curve around a copse of trees, the stable came into view. It was built of the same granite as the castle and topped with a thatched roof. Arched double doors, painted a deep crimson, had been thrown wide open. The scent of hay reached Kerry just as she heard one of the horses neigh, and she quickened her pace. She had learned to ride as a girl, on the farm horses belonging to their neighbors. It had been years since she’d sat in a saddle, though, and she hoped not to make a fool of herself today. But when Sasha emerged from the barn leading a glossy black mare, Kerry forgot all about her trepidation.

Sasha looked like she was about to walk onto the set of an equestrian photo shoot. Polished black boots reached up to mid-calf, giving way to fawn-colored jodhpurs that clung to her legs like a second skin. Her black jacket was lined with tartan flannel, she carried a helmet in the crook of her free arm, and her long dark hair hung down past her shoulder in a neat braid. She was crooning something to her horse, and while her voice was too low for Kerry to make out, she could catch the flickering of the mare’s ears.

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