A Prince For Sophie (17 page)

“No one has ever made me lose control as you have done. You drive me out of my mind with pleasure. Now, it is my turn.”

When he slipped down her body, she had no idea what he was about to do. Then he hooked his hands under her knees, lifted and spread her legs, and settled between them with his head nearly even with her mons.

The first touch of his tongue on her soft folds was electrifying. A cry escaped her lips, her hips jerked toward him. Hard hands pressed her down, holding her still for him and she couldn’t escape the thrilling assault. Every nerve ending in her body quivered, and the only way she could stay connected to the earth was to anchor her hands in Stephan’s hair. Wild, on fire, she writhed and arched and reached for ecstasy. When it hit, when her orgasm exploded sending her spiraling into rapture, it was more than she’d ever known, more than should have been possible. Vaguely she was aware that Stephan had pushed himself up. She heard sounds, and knew he was tossing off his pants. When she opened her eyes, she watched him, naked, fierce and beautiful, tearing into a small packet he’d produced as if by magic, then rolling the protection into place.

She reached for him, and he came to her, came over and into her in one fluid movement. Sighing in pleasure, she wrapped herself around him and let go.

* * * *

He knew he was being rough again but he couldn’t stop himself. The need to take, to
possess
was primitive and shocking. She was
his.
Knowing she would protest that sentiment, knowing she would likely flee if she knew he felt that way changed nothing.

His tongue and lips plundered hers. Giving her back her own ambrosia this way thrilled him. His arousal reached a fever pitch when she wrapped herself around him even more tightly and gave him everything.

His need to have her closer, to have them merge from two into one was a need he didn’t know existed until now. She was more than just a woman he was pleasuring, who pleasured him in return, even more than the woman he loved.

She was his mate.

His release erupted, volcanic and devastating. He could only clutch her tight, holding her steady for his plunging hips. An answering shiver and he knew she joined him. The convulsing of her flesh around his was the most wonderfully erotic thing he’d ever felt. His heart hammered so hard he thought it might burst from his chest.

When it was over, it took him long moments to regain his balance and his breath. He realized Sophie’s hands were caressing his back slowly and he thought it a tender and loving act she was likely not even aware she was doing.

“That is not exactly what I had planned to do,” he whispered into her ear. Levering himself up on unsteady arms, he looked down at her flushed and relaxed face.

“Must have been. You had a condom.”

“In my pocket, yes. Actually there are a few more there. You’re so damn sensuous and seductive, so wonderfully responsive, I’ve been making sure I have several close at hand since the first time I made you come in the closet.”

He could see she was analyzing his words, and he deliberately distracted her by bending down and kissing her. “My plan was to make love to you while we were in the hot tub.”

Sophie turned her head to glance at the appliance. “It’s still there,” she said, smiling.

“So it is. I’ll turn it on. You hop in, and after I clean myself up, I’ll join you.”

“I don’t know if I can hop, but I might manage a crawl.”

Laughing, Stephan kissed her again, then forced himself to get up. As he withdrew from her body, cooler air surrounded him and made him shiver. He looked down and swore.

“What’s wrong?”

He supposed he could have hidden the truth, but he didn’t think Sophie would appreciate that. “The condom broke.”

The significance of that took a moment to sink in. When Sophie’s eyes widened, he pulled her to her feet, and kissed her quickly.

“Don’t worry, little one. Everything will be all right.”

He could tell his words didn’t reassure her.

“Don’t worry? Easy for you to say, you’re a man. Let me think…oh my God. This may be the wrong time, Stephan. I could be pregnant!”

“Sophie.”

Real panic was etched on her face. She took a step away, and it was more than obvious she was trying to put emotional distance between them as well as the physical. He wouldn’t let her withdraw. He’d wanted to wait. A man only found his soul mate once in a lifetime, and he was entitled to set the scene, to choose the perfect moment to reveal his heart and his intentions.

Unfortunately, that moment had to be now. He sensed if he let it slip through his fingers, she would, too.

“It would not be a problem if you were pregnant, sweetheart. It would only mean moving faster than I would have liked, that’s all.”

“Moving faster? I don’t understand you. What are you talking about?”

He took advantage of her bewilderment to move her back into his arms. Stroking her cheek gently with one finger, he offered her what he knew probably looked like a silly grin.

“It must be obvious to you how perfect we are together. I have only to touch you and you melt. You have only to touch me and I burn. I know that I am your first lover. I also know that I will be your only, and your last, as you will be mine. I want you as my wife, my princess. And, one day, my queen. I love you Sophie, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

For one long moment she stood frozen before him. When she finally reacted, her response wasn’t at all what he’d expected.

Pulling away from him, her expression hard, she said, “No. This was never supposed to happen. I promised myself this would never happen. I won’t have your child! I won’t have anyone’s!”

“Sophie, open the door!” The bathroom door shook as Stephan pounded on it.

“No! Go away. Leave me alone!” Sophie knew she was being childish, hiding behind a locked door. But she couldn’t help it. Fleeing had been an instinctive reaction.

How could she have guessed this would happen? She’d never been with a man before him. She had feelings for him, more, she knew, than a simple affair could justify. She’d been willing to deal with the heartache that would be inevitable when he finally tired of her and moved on. Instead he’d said he loved her and wanted to marry her. How could that have happened? For one shimmering moment, the reality that he
loved
her and wanted her to have his child sparkled and warmed inside her. Then, shaking her head, she pushed the notion away. She could never return his love, never be the kind of wife he needed and deserved.

“Sophie! Open the door. We need to talk.”

“I do not want to talk to you. Please, just go away and leave me alone!”

Sophie backed away from the door that continued to rattle and shake. She bumped up against a wall, and she found herself standing in a corner made by the wall and the glass enclosure for the shower. Her thoughts, jagged, kept circling around the one thing she always feared, the one thing she’d sworn to avoid.

She knew the kind of wife and mother she would turn into if Stephan married her. The kind her own mother had been. She couldn’t bear to imagine the life Stephan would be sentencing himself to as her husband.

She’d been old enough to understand that her parent’s marriage had at some point turned into a loveless prison. She recalled how her father had tried, time and again, to reach out to his wife, the kindness and gentleness with which he’d treated her—only to fail, time and again. She’d watch him when he didn’t know she was there, and she could almost see the sadness and loneliness swallowing him. Until Hannah had come into his life, he’d never smiled with his whole heart.

She would never subject a warm and compassionate man like Stephan to such a barren existence.

She would never subject a child to the kind of cold and uncaring mother her own had been.

As her thoughts continued to spiral back she recalled how, each day, she would have an audience with her mother, where she was expected to account for her time with a list of worthy accomplishments. No hugs and laughter for her, as she’d witnessed between Hannah and Catharine. All these years later, she could still hear her mother’s voice, that emotionless, clear diction.

“Sophie, your tutor tells me that you are gifted in mathematics. This will not be an asset to you later in life. I have therefore instructed Monsieur Dion to forego that subject. Your needlework continues to be poor. You’ll spend that extra hour each day with your nanny in pursuit of that worthy craft, instead.”

“But Maman, I enjoy very much my mathematics.”

“You continue to disappoint me, Sophie. You are my mirror image, and you will become like me in every regard. You will be the most beautiful and accomplished of princesses. You will eventually come to understand your sole purpose in life is to do your duty. You will be found the most suitable of matches. When you are married, you will submit to your husband in the marriage bed, and perform your duty by producing an heir. Smaller families are becoming more fashionable, so you may be spared having to bring forth a litter, as I had to do. And when you have performed your duty, then you may look forward to the respect of your husband and the servitude of others.”

Sophie shook from the memory. She recalled one of the last audiences, when her mother had shown her photographs of the men that were being considered as matrimonial candidates for Sophie’s hand. Her mother informed her that a contract was imminent. Of the seven pictures, four had been of men old enough to be her father, and the other three were young boys, one still in diapers. Sophie had been eleven. At the time, she’d had no interest in thinking about one day getting married.

“Do not worry, you shall have the best match possible. That is my duty to you, and I always do my duty. You will have a life of privilege and produce issue of pedigree. That is your duty—to me, and to your husband. You are my daughter, my mirror image, and you will obey.”

By then Sophie had come to see how very much like her mother she really was. She’d learned to respond to her mother’s tone and bearing in kind. But she never came to embrace the picture of her destiny as her mother had framed it. It was beyond bleak. After Liana’s death, Sophie had made a bold decision. The only way to avoid the horror of the future planned for her was to never marry, never have a child. She would lead a solitary life. No one would make her do what she had no wish to do. Single, solitary, she could never
be
her mother.

The pounding and rattling of the bathroom door stopped, and Sophie blinked, brought back to the present. In the next instant, she shrieked as wood splintered, and the door sprang open. Surprise quickly morphed into outrage.

“What is the matter with you? Did you not hear me? I told you to leave me alone!”

Stephan took one step closer, looming over her.

“I heard you perfectly, Sophie. I heard you tell me you wouldn’t have my child. Well, I have news for you,
Your Royal Highness
. You may not have a choice. What do you plan to do if you are already pregnant? Get rid of it?”

Shock rippled through Sophie’s body.
Get rid of it
? The idea had never, would never occur to her. “No! No, of course not!”
My God, he’s right.
Reality finally sank in
. I really could already be pregnant
. She wrapped her arms around her middle, her first instinct to protect the life that might very well be growing within her. When Stephan scooped her up, she automatically struggled. “What the hell are you doing? Put me down!”

“Be still.” He managed to give her a small shake without losing his stride. “I am bringing you to a more comfortable place, where we can talk.”

“Talk won’t change anything,” she whispered. She was suddenly exhausted. Sadness flooded her, drowning all the other emotions that had roiled through her in the last half hour. She cared for Stephan a great deal, and was very sorry that he was going to be hurt. But she could see no way around it.

His answer to her statement was an equally softly whispered, “We’ll see.”

* * * *

“You can let me go. I promise I won’t storm off again.”

“I know you won’t, little one. But I happen to enjoy holding you in my arms and on my lap. Especially now as the hot water is soothing you and you’re becoming more pliant.”

“Only my muscles are pliant, Stephan. My resolve is strong.”

The rage and fear he’d felt when she’d locked herself in the bathroom was gone. Now, he simply ached for Sophie, who was so obviously suffering from what her mother had done to her. He placed a kiss on top of her head, and simply held her for a moment. He’d certainly had enough clues in the past couple of weeks that Sophie’s recent outburst shouldn’t have surprised him. He’d known she carried a melancholy deep within her. She’d told him just before he’d made love to her the first time that she believed herself to be a cold and unfeeling woman. He’d thought simply by loving her he’d put those fears to rest.

Now he saw that he’d been wrong. He never could have guessed the depth of the self doubt and misconceptions she’d been carrying around with her for most of her life.

He’d asked her to explain why she’d said she wouldn’t have his child. Now, as her answer settled in his thoughts, he tried to find the right words to ease her.

“There is no question that in physical appearance, you do closely resemble your mother, Sophie. But I do not believe that resemblance goes as deep as you think it does.”

“I’ve been stiff and uncomfortable around people all my life. How else do you think I earned that nickname, ‘the ice princess’?”

“From some imbecile who didn’t know you at all, and it was perpetuated by others who find it easier to repeat garbage than to think.”

“Stephan—”

“Are you uncomfortable at home with your family?”