A Prince For Sophie (16 page)

“If we’re going to be making love all week, somebody had better feed us.”

He moved so that he could look down at her. Brushing strands of the hair away from her face, he placed a gentle kiss on her lips. “You do not wish to just live on love for the next week?”

And he caught that fleeting expression that told him he’d ventured too close to a boundary. He didn’t know everything about the sadness she carried, but he suspected its source. There was a remoteness to Sophie that had earned her the nickname of Ice Princess, but he knew now it wasn’t the reflection of an inner chill. It was, he decided, a protective wall.

Stephan was very aware of the irony. Over the last few years he’d been cautious when selecting his lovers. He tried to make sure the ground rules were understood
before
the clothes came off. Mutual pleasure, yes. Love and commitment, no. Whenever a woman gave any sign that she felt their relationship was moving out of the physical and into the emotional, he ended the affair.

The look he had just seen ghost across Sophie’s face, he was certain, exactly mimicked the one he wore at such times.

He should have known that when he finally fell in love, it wouldn’t be easy.

“How can sex provide nourishment?”

Sophie’s question was a fair attempt at changing the tone of their conversation. He’d allow it for now. But before the week was out, he’d bring her around to a serious discussion about love and marriage.

“Ah, little one, there is much I’m going to teach you about the many and varied ways to indulge in pleasure and nourishment. But for now, we’ll opt for food.”

* * * *

The only kitchens she had ever been in were at the palace and the farm.

The kitchen in Stephan’s chalet was small, similar to the one at the farm yet not the same at all. It contained counters and cupboards, a double sink, a fridge and a stove. There was even a counter in the center of the room. She liked the colors. The cabinets were a soft maple, and the countertops reminded her of the grey marble in the formal salon at home. Most impressive, though, was the man, shirtless, who moved with purpose from cabinet to fridge to stove, seemingly totally at ease not only with his partial nudity but also with his surroundings.

He wore no shirt because it was on her. Looking down, she thought that it almost made a mini-dress. Her feet were bare, and she didn’t think she’d been bare foot anywhere outside her own bedroom or the beach.

Stephan took out a machine the like of which Sophie had never seen before. When he pulled a can out of the freezer, she understood at once that this was a coffee maker. Curious, she went over and watched as he opened the machine, put some paper in it, then put brown grains on the paper. He put water in the carafe then poured that into the machine. When he had placed the carafe on a round stand in the middle of the machine, he touched a button on the base. Almost instantly, the aroma of fresh coffee filled the air.

“Amazing! How did you know how to do that?” He hadn’t performed the chore with great care, as if having to recall how to do it. Instead, his actions had seemed smooth and practiced.

“I only made a pot of coffee, Sophie.”

When she continued to just look at him, he chuckled.

“I went to a university in the United States for two years. In my second year, I was determined that I was going to learn more than just what the professors had to teach. Rather than staying in standard student housing, I rented an apartment and took on a roommate. He taught me how to make coffee, prepare some simple meals, basically, how to take care of myself. I enjoyed it. I felt empowered to do these things. What I also found empowering was the relative privacy. For the first time in my life, I was alone.”

“What about security?”

“Oh, I had a couple of men assigned to me. But they kept their distance. Here, too. There is a security team billeted in the woods, and access to my chalet is restricted. But they have no eyes or ears in here. That’s liberating.”

His explanation made Sophie feel a bit envious. “Except when I have been in my rooms at home, I’ve never been alone. I can recall times, when I was a child, when I thought that I had eluded everyone and simply been
alone
. But Nanny Celeste would always know where I was and what I was doing.” The words had come unexpectedly. She quickly looked up at Stephan. Instead of the bored or disinterested expression she’d been expecting, he seemed riveted.

“I take it Nanny Celeste didn’t approve of your attempt to gain some personal space?”

“No. A princess is a princess always, for every waking moment, and every sleeping moment too. And at every moment, a princess must behave with protocol and propriety.” Even to her own ears the words sounded like something she’d learned by rote. Well, she had. They were a condensed version of her old caretaker’s lectures.

“Is that right?”

There was that mischievous twinkle in Stephan’s eyes again. The sight of it chased away the chill that had descended as she’s recited that long ago mantra. Just like that he’d dispatched the power of the memory, leaving only the shell of it—the ridiculous, wretched shell of it—behind.

“Yes, that is so. The gospel according to Nanny Celeste.”

“Well, it’s a good thing that Nanny Celeste is nowhere in sight, little one. Because before this night is through, protocol and propriety will both have been tossed out the window.”

Of all the plans and agendas Sophie had been privy to in her life, she thought that Stephan’s, for this evening, was the best she’d ever heard.

He wanted to impress her.

That was another new experience, one that felt better than he would have thought. There was a high efficiency freezer in the larder, stocked with easy to prepare foods, and a microwave on the counter. Instead, he took steaks out to defrost.

“You’re going to cook for me?”

Her question, tinged with awe, made him smile. “I am. We’ll have the steaks for dinner tonight. But in the mean time, I believe you said you were hungry.” The heated look that came into her eyes then almost had him saying ‘to hell with lunch’ and taking her back to bed.

“I am. I was so nervous about the tournament that I couldn’t eat much breakfast.”

“Then let’s make some sandwiches.”

He took everything they would need out of the fridge, setting the items on the butcher block in the center of the kitchen. He got down two plates from the cupboard, and two butter knives from the drawer. He handed her one knife, one plate, and then the loaf of bread.

“Now this, I can do.”

Stephan watched how carefully she spread mustard on her bread before choosing a single slice of meat to go on it. Then she carefully put her creation together, and cut the sandwich in half. She looked completely pleased with herself.

“That’s it? Just one thin slice of meat?”

“I think it’s enough” Sophie said defensively.

Shaking his head, he poured them each a cup of coffee, then he began to construct one of what he thought of as his ‘vacation sandwiches’. He was very aware of Sophie’s wide-eyed stare as he kept adding layers to the small stack.

“My roommate used to make enormous sandwiches that more often appeared a work of art than something one would eat. At home, during high tea, our chef takes great pride in presenting very thin and, I have to admit, very tasty snacks. Here, I indulge my inner child.”

“You will never get your mouth around that thing.”

“That’s the fun of it. And you’d be surprised what my mouth can do.” He sent her a lascivious grin. She blushed, delighting him. He knew she used her food as a
defense
when she picked up a half sandwich and began to eat.

* * * *

Sophie had never been in someone’s private home before. As Stephan took her from room to room after lunch, she realized that’s what the chalet was to him. His private home. She’d enjoyed his company over the last few days, and had thought she’d come to know him fairly well. She would have said that despite being a crown prince, he was an easy-going man. But she noticed the difference in him here. Here, where no eyes but hers watched, he was even more relaxed and playful.

He showed her his office, which was down the hall from the main sitting room.

“I have computer and phone, fax and photocopier. Everything I need to stay in touch, if I am needed. I know that at any given time, father could call, and my time alone here can be cut short. But I don’t dwell on that.” Then he shot her a smile, grabbed her hand, and placed it on the glass of the copier. He pressed a button and the machine came to life.

“Close your eyes, the light will be bright.”

She did, noting the light was bright even with her eyes closed. Her hand felt the warmth of it.

“Here.”

He gave her the piece of paper that had come out of the machine, a piece of paper that had a picture of her hand on it.

“Look at that!” she couldn’t keep back her giggle.

“Keep it. Then someday if someone asks you to give them a hand, you can give them that.”

He backed her up against the wall and said, “Now you have to pay for the tour of this private home.”

“I have to pay? Alas, I cannot. I was spirited away from my home with no money, not even a shirt for my own back.”

“How fortunate for you the coin of this realm isn’t lucre.”

His mouth was hot and tasted of coffee, and as she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back, her knees went weak. He held her tight, and she revelled in not only his flavor, but in the security of being kept close. His hair was soft and silky through her fingers, and Sophie knew she’d never felt anything so good or so right as being kissed by him.

“That will do as a down payment. I need to take you now to my
favorite
place. It’s just down the hall. Come.”

“We have a Jacuzzi at home,” she said as she looked around the glass-enclosed room, “but it is not as large as this one.”

“I realized at the time I chose this I was over-compensating. One of my small rebellions against having been born into a predetermined life. Though I’ve been most fortunate, really. Mother and Father both took pains when we were children to spend time with us. Family time, they called it, when it was mostly just the four of us.”

“We didn’t really have that until after my mother died.”

“I don’t remember Queen Liana that well, little one, but I do remember thinking that she seemed...untouchable.”

Sophie understood that Stephan was again trying to take their relationship to a more personal level. She couldn’t give him the kind of commitment a normal woman might, but in conversation, at least, she could give him intimacy.

“She was. She never hugged me. She never saw the need, and although I never tried, I always sensed that if I had ever thrown my arms around her, she would have recoiled.”

“Some people show their love in different ways, Sophie. It doesn’t mean they don’t feel the emotion.”

“That’s what Hannah said.” Thinking about her new stepmother lifted her spirits, and she turned to Stephan. “Now
there’s
a lady who invites hugs.”

“So do you.”

Before she could disabuse him of that notion, his arms were around her, pulling her flush against him. It was easy to slide her hands up his chest to slink around his neck.

“It’s not me, it’s you.” When Stephan held her, she felt safe, cherished and connected. He stirred her senses and heated her blood until she felt like she was melting inside. Until him, these were feelings she’d never experienced, so she knew the source of them had to be him.

There was no reason to resist the temptation that washed through her, so she didn’t. Rising up on her toes, she kissed him.

The firestorm ignited again, and Sophie let it take her. With tongue and lips and teeth she set out to consume him completely. His groans, and the clutching and caressing of his hands fuelled her need. Leaving his lips, she sampled the flavor of his neck and chest. Pleased, she noticed that his nipples peaked just like hers did when suckled. The reaction spurred her on. Nuzzling his chest, the light dusting of hair there caressed like the finest velvet. His taste was different here than in his kiss. Salty and rich, she discovered a
flavor she’d been missing all her life. She wanted more. She wanted every scrap of him she could have.

Easing to her knees, she fumbled at the opening of his pants, unbuttoning and then unzipping them with trembling fingers. And when his penis sprang free, she captured it in her hand. Instinct guided her as she used her tongue in a long, questing lick. Then she opened her mouth and took him in.

His cock was hard, yet the skin was soft and smooth and tasted good. And hot, it was so hot. As she moved her mouth on him, sliding him in and out, she played her tongue along his length, sucking lightly.

“My God!”

His epithet told her he liked her mouth on him. Nothing was more important in that moment but that she please him. He’d given her so much more than she’d ever thought to know. When she was with him like this, when she was kissing him, touching him, when he had his hands flexing in her hair or reaching down her back to pull the shirt she wore off her, she felt free. Free and alive and
powerful
in a way she would have sworn was beyond her reach.

“Enough!”

Oh, his hands were strong as he whipped his shirt off her. She felt his trembling as he urged her onto her back on the floor, followed her down and loomed over her.