A Royal Engagement: The Young Royals Book 1 (25 page)

Jordan's kisses were playful and exciting and I enjoyed them.
 
Will's kisses were deeper, more intense and I found myself craving more of them.

Chapter Seventeen

It was Sunday morning and that meant church.
 
I groaned and rolled over, turning off my alarm and trying very hard to go back to sleep.
 
I didn't want to go and sit through another long and tediously boring scripture reading by a man who I had such little regard for.

Unfortunately, the ever efficient Alex, foiled my plans to avoid mass.
 
She had me up, fed, dressed and walking out the door on time as usual.
 
I loved her organisation and capability but sometimes I wished she was a little less so - especially on Sundays.

The road outside the church was packed with paparazzi and of course we had arrived in the palace cars complete with their little Royal flags on the front that always reminded me of cocktail picks.
 
Security had been set up and the photographers and reporters where being kept well behind barricades.
 
I had been warned that they would be here, there was always some form of press whenever I left the palace grounds, and church was easy pickings.
 
They knew I would be there and what time, it was pointless to try and avoid them.
 
Their usual numbers had swollen today, though, probably due to the accident and the leaked engagement.

Meredith stuck close to me as we exited the car, Benjamin led the way, Jamie and Aiden brought up the rear followed by my Ladies in Waiting and Alex who were in turn followed by Carlos and Daniel.
 
Scott and Cody would already be inside and that rounded out my ridiculously large security detail all for a simple church service.

The press shouted questions to me, which I ignored.
 
I waved regally and smiled graciously and moved as quickly as was appropriate into the vestibule.

There were the usual niceties and hobnobbing with the peerage as we moved through the antechamber and towards our seats in the balcony.
 
The church seemed fuller today as well, probably more due to my appearance than to the Bishop's prepared sermon.
 
I suppose I could think that they were here to see for themselves that I hadn't sustained any serious injury, but I was certain that it had more to do with the more enticing gossip of possible nuptials.
 
Everyone wanted to see if I had a big rock on my finger and I was increasingly thankful that we had denied Jordan's request to sit with us today, it would've only added fuel to the fire.

The hymns began and seemed especially pious today.
 
I had experienced a pentecostal church service while in the States and I had to admit I found them more to my liking.
 
The songs they sang were much more upbeat and you didn't need to be an opera singer to reach the range of notes.
 
I'm sure the Bishop would rather be burned at the stake than allow such music to be played within these hallowed walls.

I should have paid more attention to the songs being sung though and then I might not have been so blindsided by his sermon.
 
A particularly scathing one, no doubt aimed at me, using the scriptures to disparage the value of women who were without a husband.
 
It seemed to the Bishop that a woman was only saved from the evils of sin if she were appropriately married and kept under the thumb of her mate.
 
The Bishop had obviously been coached by Parliament to pressure me to marry, thinking that I would cower from this public humiliation.
 
They didn't know me very well.
 
If they had they would have realised that by trying to force my hand, they had only caused me to redouble my desire to rebel.

How dare they try and embarrass the crown in this way. It had become more and more apparent that my father had been walked over and a little part of me died with the realisation.

I wasn't the only one who was disgusted by the Bishop's blatant soap box sermon, if the rustles and fidgeting in the congregation was any indication.
 
Even the perfect society ladies in their perfect dresses and perfect hats seemed uncomfortable under the raging of, what I was sure, was an increasingly unbalanced man of the cloth.
 
The scriptures he used to illustrate his points were taken out of context and wielded like a blunt object.
 
And by upsetting even the most devout in the congregation, he overplayed his hand.

I was in an atrocious mood by the end of the service and wanted nothing more than to disappear back behind the palace gates.
 
But Jordan foiled my escape by stopping me in full view of congregation and paparazzi alike.

"Your Highness," he greeted me with a bow, "I was hoping we could share a picnic lunch this afternoon."

I smiled, my public facade in place, "I was intending to eat in my room," I replied, "And read."

Our voices were low so as not to be overheard and to the outside world we were having a pleasant conversation, our faces open and friendly.

"I would really like the chance to talk to you, in private, and apologise."

His eyes were soft and pleading with me and I felt my anger towards him melting away.
 
How could I stay mad at him when he had been so good to me and had helped me through one of the toughest times in my life?

I sighed and nodded, "Okay," I said, "A picnic on the grounds."

He smiled and bowed again to me before moving away.
 
I watched his back as he retreated, lost in thought, until Meredith nudged me.
 
I can just imagine the shots the photographers had gotten of me while I had zoned out and no doubt they would be plastered across the front pages of tomorrows newspapers.

We rode horses across the lush green fields, my ever present security detail trailing us, two in a golf cart, two on ATVs.
 
Jordan and I didn't ride fast, we took our time, enjoying the warm sunshine and the bright summer day.
 
We made polite small talk as we crossed the paddocks and I relaxed in his company.

Jordan was easy to be with, he made small, insignificant things fun, and he made me laugh.
 
I felt genuine affection for him and valued our close friendship.
 
Whether we could be more than that?
 
I didn't know.

Jordan found a spot for us on the same grassy knoll that we had picnicked on before, overlooking the lake.
 
The bright sun glinted off the crystal blue waters of
 
Lac Merveilleux and the gentle breeze made the green grass swish softly.
 
I flopped down on the blanket he spread out and lay on my back, staring up at the clear summer sky.

Jordan settled beside me after hobbling the horses and his hand sought mine out, clasping it in his.

"I'm sorry Alyssa," he said, "I'm sorry for telling people we were engaged.
 
I was just so worried about you and it seemed like the best course of action for people to take me seriously."

I sighed.
 
I could understand his actions, but he had acted without thinking about the long term ramifications and that was a problem for me.

"Do you know how it got leaked to the press," I asked, not ready to let him off the hook yet.

He was silent beside me for so long that I turned to look at him.

"No," he said, "But most of the staff in the Palace heard me say it so it could've been anyone."

That troubled me more than anything.
 
We had iron-clad non-disclosure agreements for all our staff and they were paid well to keep this sort of thing from happening.
 
But mostly, I felt betrayed.
 
The staff got to see us at our most vulnerable and if I couldn't trust them to keep my private life private then I would never have a moment's peace.
 
I couldn't imagine living my life in such a way that I had to watch every single word that came out of my mouth, even in the sanctuary of my own home.

"There'll have to be an investigation," I said, turning back to look at the sky.
 
"If I can't trust my staff then I can't trust anyone."

"You can trust me," Jordan said, squeezing my hand and shifting so that he was laying on his side facing me.

I rolled over to face him and searched his eyes for any guile.
 
I wanted to trust him, I really did, but there was always something holding me back from letting my walls down completely around him.

"And although I went about it in completely the wrong way," he went on, "I really do want to marry you."

I sat up and stared down at him, shocked by his words.
 
"You want to marry me?"

He sat up to and twisted so that he was facing me, "Yes," he said, reaching out to take my hand, "I do.
 
I have loved spending time with you these last few months.
 
You're beautiful and smart and fun to be with, and I want more of that, more of you."

He leant forward to kiss me and I flashed a hand signal to my security detail telling them to back off.
 
Jordan and I needed privacy for what was about to happen.

His lips brushed softly across mine and he cupped my cheek, tugging me towards him.
 
His lips felt nice against mine and I let myself melt into it.
 
He laid us back down on the blanket and he rested on his elbow, while he let me lie flat.
 
His head leaned over me and he continued to kiss me as his free hand caressed my neck with small, gentle circles.

His lips nudged mine open and his tongue slipped into my mouth, sliding along my tongue.
 
It was nice, but it didn't heat my blood like Will's kiss did.

Jordan's hand trailed down across my shoulder and down my arm before coming to rest on my hip.
 
He continued to kiss me, alternating long slow open mouthed kisses with small, soft pressing of lips to cheek, jaw, eyelids.
 
He rolled towards me, half lying on me and I felt the heat of his body along my length.
 
His hand began to move again, playing with the hem of my shirt, his fingers dipping underneath to tease the exposed skin.
 
I sucked in a breath at the intimate touch and he plundered my mouth again, deepening the kiss.
 
He slid his hand under my shirt and up along my ribs while his kisses became hard and demanding.

I tried to pull away, to take a breath.
 
This was further than I had ever gone with someone and I didn't think I was prepared for it, especially not out here in the open.
 
I brought my hands up, trying to get them between us to push him away, but he levered himself up and over me, taking my hands in one of his and raising them above my head, holding them down.

His other hand continued to roam under my shirt and I wriggled, not welcoming his touches and feeling more and more uncomfortable with his attentions.
 
I pulled away from his harsh kiss and sucked in a breath.

"Jordan," I said, breathlessly, "I...uh..."

"Shh," he whispered, "It's okay Alyssa.
 
You want this as much as I do.
 
I'm going to make you feel so good."

His hand grasped my breast over my bra and I hissed out a breath.

"No, Jordan," I said, louder this time, "I don't want this."

His mouth crashed back down onto mine, silencing me, but I continued to struggle.
 
He held my wrists tightly and my focus went to getting them free.
 
He was covering my entire body with his now and I bucked my body against his trying to dislodge him but he just ground himself into me.

Panicked now that he would take this further, I bit his lip, sinking my teeth into the soft flesh.
 
He reared back and roared, his face red and angry.
 
I scrambled out from under him and watched as he clenched his fists as if trying to keep himself from lashing out at me.
 
I dragged my hand across my mouth, wiping away his kisses and sucked in oxygen.
 
He turned to me and I held up a hand.

"
Arrêtez
," I said loud enough for my security detail to hear.
 
The french word for stop was my sign for them to come running.

I stood tall and took a deep breath.
 
Jordan turned away from me, his hands on his hips, his posture stiff.
 
Carlos strode into sight and I acknowledged him with a tilt of my head.

"I think I'd like to go back to the Palace now," I said, hating the tremor in my voice.

"Right away, Your Grace," he said in a monotone, "Will you be riding your horse back or would you prefer to accompany me in the cart?"

"The cart please," I said weakly and walked towards him without looking back at Jordan.