Royal Pain: An Alpha Bad Boy Billionaire Romance (4 page)

Finally, the dance was upon them. The preparations were complete and formal invitations had been sent to all of the students who had managed to maintain enough merits to attend. Henrik hadn't received his, and had been worried all day long about it. He was in a sour mood when he arrived at the detention hall, and Fiona frowned, concerned.

“What's wrong?” she asked him, leaning against her desk.

“Nothing,” he grumbled. “It's stupid.”

“You can tell me,” she said, her deep blue eyes sincere.

“I don't think I've been invited to the dance,” he sighed, leaning back in his chair.

“Are you sure?” she asked, frowning. That didn't seem fair. They had worked hard together to finish his work, and she'd submitted it to the director as soon as it was completed. He'd said to keep Henrik busy until they looked the work over, and she hadn't heard anything since then.

“I didn't get an invitation,” he said. “And it's not like I'm a star pupil here.”

The thought made Fiona laugh out loud, and Henrik's eyes shot to her. She thought she had angered him, but to her surprise he joined her laughter. He sighed softly and she moved over to him, putting a hand gently on his shoulder.

“You did your best. Tell you what. If you can't make it to the dance, you and I will have our own celebration, all right?”

He looked up into her eyes hopefully and smiled, his handsome face lighting up from the inside out.

“Okay.”

A knock came suddenly at the door and Fiona rushed to answer it, shattering the moment. When she opened the door, a relieved smile broke across her face. It was Mrs. Blair. And she was holding a shimmering envelope.

“This is for Henrik,” she said pleasantly, handing the envelope to Fiona.

“Thank you,” Fiona said, barely able to contain her excitement. Henrik would get to go to the dance after all.

She closed the door as Mrs. Blair walked away and rushed to Henrik's side.

“Guess what,” she said, holding the envelope behind her back.

“What?” he asked, not in the mood for games.

“You're going to the dance,” she said with a grin, presenting him with the invitation.

Henrik stood up in excitement and gripped the envelope in disbelief.

“No way,” he said in a hushed voice. He took her arms in his hands and they looked intently at each other. “Thank you.”

In any other time, at any other moment, with any other person, this would have been the time where they kissed, and their feelings for each other rose to the surface in passionate abandon. But Fiona swallowed hard. She was a teacher's assistant, not a student. This couldn't happen.

“It was all you,” she said, pulling gently out of his grasp. “I think this means you can get out of here now. Go ahead, you've got a free period now.”

Henrik looked at her, reluctant to go, but nodded and picked up his belongings, clutching the envelope as if it were the most precious thing in the world.

The night of the dance had the majority of the Spencer Dalton Academy buzzing with excitement. Fiona looked on in amazement as people from a social status far beyond anything she could ever imagine marched and paraded themselves in outfits that cost more than her entire college tuition. They looked incredible and radiant, and she felt like an ant among giants. She kept an eye open for Henrik, but didn't see him. She had been invited to chaperone, and although she had been nervous to go after the incident with the students and being punished, she agreed just to see the happiness on Henrik's face as he enjoyed himself.

Finally, after spending a few minutes at the punch bowl, she finally spotted Henrik. Her heart thudded in excitement and she began to move toward him, unable to contain her desire to be near him. He looked incredibly handsome, dressed in a fashionable suit that hugged his body in all the right ways, making him look both muscular and sophisticated.

“Henrik -” she began to say, smiling and waving her hand. But before she got to him, she was stopped in her tracks. Tiffany was behind him, wrapping her hands around his waist.

He turned to her, as if to greet her, and before she knew it, Tiffany's hands were on his face and they were kissing passionately. Fiona suddenly felt stupid and vulnerable, and turned away from them in embarrassment. What had she been thinking, being seen here in this ridiculous dress that most of the people would assume was from a thrift store; all for a chance to see the royal playboy in action? She should have known better.

With that, Fiona left the school and retired into her room, embarrassed and humiliated. She couldn't believe she had ever considered having any feelings for somebody as superficial as Prince Henrik. He was obviously always going to be a spoiled and selfish playboy; who was she fooling? It had been doomed from the start.

***
Henrik pushed Tiffany off of him, annoyed at the way she had forced her tongue into his mouth.

“What the hell are you doing?” he asked, pulling away. She had lost her appeal, and could tell that her attention was clearly needy and he couldn't stand it anymore.

“I thought -”

“I told you, we weren't in a relationship or anything. Please just stay away from me,” Henrik growled. The people around the crowd all laughed, embarrassing Tiffany, and Henrik left the dance.

Why had he reacted like that to Tiffany? A few weeks ago the attention would have pleased him, but now everything was different. Fiona was the only woman he felt like he could...

Could what? Love?

Suddenly, he knew beyond the shadow of a doubt what his feelings meant. The realization struck him hard and his peers, who were still laughing, slapped him on the back asking him if something was wrong. He wasn't sure if it was or not, he had never had these feelings before. They were scary, actually. But he knew what he had to do. He turned away from them and left the dance.

***

“There you are,” he said in his gentlest voice. Fiona had been difficult to find the past few days. Now he saw her standing at the Academy's fountain, looking out over the dormitories.

“What do you want, Henrik?” she asked. Her voice was tired and her expression was stern, which wounded him. But maybe she was having a bad day. So he continued.

“I was thinking we could take a walk around the campus,” he said, casually examining his nails. “I have something I'd like to talk to you about.”

“We can talk right here. What is it?”

He shifted nervously, the expression on his face vulnerable and scared, and she sighed.

“All right. Well, I have a break for the semester and my parents want me to come back to Denmark for a while to speak to my representatives. And I was thinking...well...would you like to come with me?”

“What are you talking about?” she asked, genuinely puzzled.

“I don't really know how to say this,” he said, sighing. He took her hand and smiled into her eyes. His face was still intoxicating, but her anger toward him was unrelenting. “But I love you. Please come to Denmark with me.”

“What are you talking about?” she asked, her anger bubbling to the surface and contorting her beautiful face. “You don't love me. I saw you at the dance with Tiffany LeBough. You're just a spoiled rich boy who can't keep it in his pants. You don't even know what love is.”

She pulled her hand away and turned her back on him, heading toward her room.

“I'm quitting the school,” she said without turning around. “I won't be here when you get back.”

Henrik watched her go, his heart breaking. An unexpectedly familiar honk rang through the yard and he looked up and saw his driver. It was time to head back to Denmark.

Fiona couldn't think back to her experience at the Spencer Dalton Academy without cringing. She had humbly resigned her teacher's assistant position, which seemed to legitimately sadden the staff there. She'd had a real way with Henrik, they told her, and were sad to see her go. She had a lot of potential and would give her full credit for the internship. Not only that, but they would recommend her to other schools should she ever need it. She thanked them profusely and bowed out, hopping in her car and heading back to her small town, where she fully intended to drown her sorrows with movies and popcorn for a while.

One evening, she was sprawled on the couch and flipping through the channels when her thumb hovered reluctantly over the button. Henrik's ridiculously handsome face was on the television screen, and he was grinning charmingly.

“And Heiress Tiffany LeBough was there too, you'd be shocked just how many people get shipped there each year. She wouldn't keep her hands off me, which was fun for a while,” Henrik winked at the camera, which probably had made his father faint. “But she's a little forceful. That's why she was there, actually. She has a hard time letting go of people if you know what I mean...stalker. And she kind of claimed me as her prize. We had this dance and she grabbed me by the face and stuck her tongue down my throat like I was a piece of meat. Shout out to Tiffany: I am a human being, not an object put on this earth for your gratification. No means no!”

Fiona smiled despite herself, but quickly grew moody as she remembered his playboy ways.

“Actually there was one great thing about the Sanitarium,” Henrik was saying now. He looked sincerely into the camera. “I met the woman of my dreams there.”

Fiona sighed, her heart thudding hard in her chest. What in the world was going on? Was he telling the truth and being sincere, or was he trying to use his power to get what he wanted. She wanted to believe what he was saying, but she still wasn't sure...

“I don't think it will work out, though,” he said, sadness darkening his face. “She got a bad first impression of me. Which was pretty much my fault. Plus, everything with the sex party was probably pretty intimidating.”

Henrik and the interviewer laughed.

“But what I'm trying to say is, it changed my life. Made me open to the possibility that I might be able to really find love, and not just live in this controlled environment where everyone is constantly telling me what to do. If I could have stayed in detention hall B with her forever, I would have.”

He smiled gently at the camera, and it cut to a commercial.

Just as the announcer was saying, “We'll return to 'Prince Henrik Tells All’ right after this commercial break!'” a knock sounded at her door.

Fiona jumped. She had the absurd thought, more like hope, that it would be Henrik, and things would be okay between them, and she would finally be able to tell him how she felt. But that thought was ridiculous. How could it be Henrik when he was clearly in Denmark? And it looked like he had told the Academy's secrets, along with heiress Tiffany's, which meant he would have no reason to be back in America. They'd probably expelled him. Who knew where he was now?

Fiona got to her feet, pulling a robe on over her silken nightgown. She brushed the hair out of her face before opening the door. The sight that met her shocked her and she inhaled sharply.

Henrik was standing on her porch, offering his hand to her and smiling warmly. He was the most handsome thing she had ever seen, dressed sharply in a black suit with a blue tie that brought out his striking features. Above his head was a helicopter, whirring loudly and creating a wind that made her nightgown and robe cling to her body, almost revealing her nude body.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, shocked. She couldn't keep herself from smiling. The second she looked into his eyes, she knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that what he had said on television was true. He loved her.

“I thought I'd just drop by,” he said casually, sticking his hand in his pockets and shifting to the balls of his feet and back again unassumingly. “You know, I was in the neighborhood.”

She was sucked in once again by his sexy accent and charming grin, and he offered his hand to her again. “There's something I'd like to show you.”

“All right,” she sighed. There was no denying it any longer. The man set her on fire, and she wanted nothing more in the world than to board that helicopter with him. Even if he had been a playboy who entertained himself at orgies. In fact, the idea of him using his body just made her burn with desire, and he held her tightly as he helped her board the helicopter, and didn't let go as they left her small town behind them.

***
“Open your eyes,” he said to her finally, after telling her to close them. It was dark out by then anyway, so she didn't see the point. Still, she humored the dark prince, hoping to avoid one of his temper tantrums. Now, with her eyes open, she gasped. They were hovering above a beautiful tropical island. Strings of lights illuminated the gorgeous beach, and a modest-sized house, huge to her but small to him, had been built just off the sand.

“What is this?” she breathed.

“We both wanted an island,” he told her, gripping her delicate hand with his large, warm fingers. It sent an intoxicating thrill through her and she pursed her lips in disbelief as the helicopter landed. “All of this is for you. For us. If you want it.”

He helped her out of the helicopter and they walked slowly along the beach together, looking up at the huge, clear moon and beautiful stars. It was the perfect place, with the perfect man.

“I can't believe this,” she whispered.

“Believe it,” he said. “I've never wanted anybody this much in my life.”

“I bet you say that at all your orgies,” she said.

He laughed, his eyes crinkling pleasantly and shimmering in the moonlight.

“No...mostly I just say, 'uhh.”

She slapped him and he laughed again, leading her back toward the house.

“You're so beautiful,” he said, stroking her silver, moonlit hair. His face tilted down toward hers and her breath caught in her throat. His full, handsome lips were inches from hers, and she was burning with the desire to taste them. And they were suddenly on her, tasting her, licking her flesh, sucking her neck, and bringing moans of pleasure from deep inside of her. His strong hands roamed her body, sending thrills up and down her spine. She tingled wherever he touched, and soon his hands found their way to her thigh, and she inhaled sharply, buckling against the heat of his palm.

She let her own hands begin to roam his broad, muscular body, tug on his dark hair, scratch down his muscular back. She pushed them inside his blazer, unbuttoning his crisp black shirt and finding his waist. She dipped her fingers gingerly through his belt loop and pulled his groin into her. They both moaned when their middles made contact, and she could feel the hardness of his anticipation pressing against her.

She cried out in unexpected pleasure when he lifted her nightgown, pulling his hard cock out of his pants and pushing its head against her clit. He rubbed it gently and she closed her eyes with a low moan as he began to ease his way inside of her, stripping her of her robe and nightgown and burying his head between her large, perfect breasts. His hot tongue found her cool, hard nipple and she nearly screamed with pleasure as he took it into her mouth and entered her simultaneously.

They both groaned as he began to pull out and thrust himself back in again, until they were rocking together with the intense motion of his longing. Their bodies glittered in the moonlight as they began to sweat, panting and crying out with pleasure as they pushed and pulled each other around the island, making love against every possible surface they could find. Finally, Fiona gripped Henrik's shoulders hard, her orgasm hitting her with a sudden, powerful force that caused her to quake on top of him. He held her securely in his bare, muscular arms, groaning as her contractions prompted him to unleash his powerful load. He came long and hard inside of her, enhancing their pleasure as they both came at the same time

They lay panting, tangled in her robe and leaning against a palm tree. She smiled at him and leaned on his chest in disbelief.

“That was incredible,” she sighed.

“You're incredible,” he said. “Wait til you see the house. Better get used to the royal life.”

And with that, he carried her inside across the threshold of their island dream house, and they laughed together. They had both escaped their small worlds, and would build a new one together.