To Charm a Prince (19 page)

Leaving her lips behind, Rudolf burned a scorching path to her throat and then her breasts. The prince dropped to his knees in front of her, his arms encircling her body. He pressed his face against her belly, and his tongue traced a path to the crevice between her thighs.

Rudolf slashed his tongue down and up the secret place between her legs. He kissed her nub and then tormented it with his tongue.

With a cry of mingling surprise and pleasure, Samantha melted against his tongue. Spasms of exquisite pleasure shook her body, and she clutched him tightly against her.

Rudolf stood then and kissed her again. He lifted her into his arms and carried her to bed.

Refusing to release her, Rudolf cradled her against his body. “You are all that a man could want in a woman, he whispered. “Sleep now.”

“I want to touch you the way you have touched me,” she said.

“I will grant you your wish in the morning,” Rudolf told her. “For now, I want to hold you close while we sleep.”

Samantha dropped her hand to his groin.

In an instant, Rudolf rolled her onto her back, his well-muscled legs spreading hers. “I think I can stay awake a few minutes longer.”

Chapter 10

Three months passed. Samantha’s life fell into a routine, Grant and Drake filling her days. In the morning, she tutored the boys in reading while the prince assumed responsibility for their ciphering numbers. After lunching like a real family, they passed most afternoons in play, and Samantha was always chosen first for games.

The nights belonged to Rudolf. Pretending he was her husband proved easier than she had imagined. Each evening when they retired to their bedchamber, Samantha went without guilt or remorse into his arms and gave herself completely to the prince.

January’s days lengthened. Melancholy sunsets, woodsmoke-scented air, and the rhythmic sounds of a piano and a violin playing a duet marked the passing of January.

February’s gray skies delivered rain and then waxing sunshine. As the days grew longer, catkins dangled from birch trees while buds adorned the maples.

Courageous crocus opened their petals when the blue skies of March arrived, and pussy willow buds swelled with the changing season. Migrating robins began to appear; the starlings’ speckled plumage was replaced by spring’s glossy black.

On that fifteenth day of March, Samantha sat in the carved stone gazebo on the far side of the pond and watched the boys playing in the treehouse nearby. Beside her sat Giles, the deerhound. She would have been up in the trees herself if she hadn’t been feeling a tad queasy from the enormous luncheon she’d eaten. As spring drew ever closer, she’d begun to dread the idea of returning to London and wished they could remain in Scotland forever. The only thing awaiting her in London was bleak reality.

Samantha smiled when she heard Grant telling his brother, “I will be the prince, and you will be the servant.”

“I don’t want to be the servant,” Drake protested. “I want to be the prince.”

“I’m older, so I’m the prince,” Grant announced.

“That isn’t fair,” Drake whined.

“Boys, come down here.”

Reluctantly, the boys moved toward the ladder. Grant said, “I’ll go first.”

“I want to go first,” Drake argued.

Grant ignored him and hurried down the ladder. He laughed at his victory, which only angered the eight-year-old even more.

“No good sneak,” Drake shouted.

“Come here,” Samantha called. When they stood before her, she said, “Brothers should never argue. Apologize at once.”

“Sorry,” Grant said, his expression sour.

“Sorry, too,” Drake said.

“I want you to say something nice about each other,” Samantha said. “Drake, you go first.”

“I like the way you always protect me,” the eight-year-old told his brother.

Samantha nodded with approval. “Your turn, Grant.”

“I like the way you don’t know as much as I do,” the ten-year-old told his brother.

“I do so.”

“Grant, you are a troublemaker,” Samantha said. “Sit here beside me, and I’ll tell you a story.” When they settled, she began, “Today is the fifteenth day of March, also known as the ides of the month. A long time ago there lived a famous Roman named Julius Caesar who wanted to be the emperor of Rome. A soothsayer told him—”

“What’s a soothsayer?” Drake interrupted.

“A fortune-teller,” Samantha answered. “Anyway, the soothsayer told Caesar to ‘beware the ides of March.’ When the ides of March arrived, jealous senators stabbed him to death. Forever after, the ides of March has been considered an unlucky day.”

Drake shuddered and looked around. “Holy water, I got the chills.”

“Your Highness,” a voice called.

The three of them turned around and spied Durwin walking around the pond toward them. “It
is
our unlucky day,” Grant said.

“That isn’t very nice,” Samantha scolded, struggling against the urge to smile. “Perhaps Durwin would consider playing in the treehouse and serving
two
princes.”

“His Highness requests your presence in his office,” Durwin said when he reached them.

“Would you stay with the boys until I return?” Samantha asked, rising from her seat.

“Of course, Your Highness. “

Walking away, Samantha did smile when she heard Grant saying, “Come into our treehouse, Mr. Durwin.”

“We’ll be the princes,” Drake added. “You will be the servant.”

*    *    *

Samantha knew something was wrong as soon as she walked into the office and saw the prince’s grim expression. Then she saw the man sitting in one of the high-backed chairs. Her heartbeat quickened, her pulse raced, and a wave of nausea rolled over her at the thought of losing Grant and Drake.

Rudolf stood as she walked across the office. So did the stranger. She knew she looked frightened when the prince smiled at her. His look told her not to worry, but she couldn’t erase the grim expression he’d worn before masking his emotion.

Rudolf gestured to the chair. “Please be seated.”

Samantha threw a guarded look at the man. Both men sat when she sat.

“This is Mr. Stockwell, an agent of the Duke of Inverary,” Rudolf told her.

Samantha felt her heart breaking. She didn’t want to return to England. She wanted to remain in Scotland with her pretend family.

“Mr. Stockwell informs me that His Grace requests our immediate return to London,” Rudolf said.

“I’ll make the necessary preparations.” Samantha studied her hands folded in her lap. “The boys will be joining us, too?”

Rudolf inclined his head.

Later that evening, Rudolf and Samantha walked up the stairs behind the boys. She couldn’t help thinking that this was the last night they would climb these stairs together, the last night they would listen to the boys’ prayers, the last night they would sleep in their bed.

Rudolf had been grim since Mr. Stockwell’s arrival, and Samantha missed him already. She felt like throwing herself down and weeping forever. Tomorrow was the first miserable day of bleak reality. Weeping could not change that fact and would upset the prince and the boys.

“Thank You, Lord, for His Highness and Lady Samantha,” Drake prayed, kneeling beside the bed.

“Thank You for sending us Mr. Stockwell,” Grant said, kneeling beside his brother. “Now we’ll have a trip to London.”

“What if we don’t like London?” Drake whispered.

“Don’t worry about that now,” Grant said.

“I’ll be happy wherever Lady Samantha is.” Drake smiled at the object of his affection.

“Jesus Christ, brother, do you want to make her weep?” Grant asked.

After kissing both boys good night, Rudolf and Samantha went into their own chamber. In silence, Samantha undressed and donned her nightgown. Then she knelt beside the bed and covered her face with her hands.

The bed creaked when the prince sat on its edge beside her. “Are you thanking God for Mr. Stockwell, too?”

Samantha shook her head but kept her face covered. “I am asking Him for—”

She burst into tears, her body wracked with heart-wrenching sobs. She wept for a lifetime of pain and insecurity, for the bleakness of her future, for her soon-to-be-lost love.

“What is this?” Rudolf reached for her and lifted her onto his lap. “Why are you weeping?”

Samantha rested her head against the solidness of his chest. “I don’t want to return to London.”

Rudolf tightened his hold on her and planted a kiss on the crown of her head. “You knew we would need to return one day,” he said, his tone soothing.

“Pretending that day would never arrive proved exceedingly easy, Your Highness,” Samantha told him. “I have been happy in Scotland.”

“Look at me, Princess.” Rudolf lifted her chin and waited until she looked into his eyes. “Happiness is a journey, not a location. If you are happy here, then you will be happy there.”

“I don’t think so.”

Rudolf lowered his head and claimed her lips. Hooking her left arm around his neck and her right arm around his body, Samantha surrendered herself, letting the prince take her wherever he would.

Their kiss was long, slow, soul-stealing. Samantha poured all of her love and her need into that single, stirring kiss. And the prince responded in kind, meeting her unspoken emotion with his own.

They made love with a gentle desperation. Rudolf sprinkled dozens of kisses across her eyelids, temples, and throat, but his lips always returned to hers as if he yearned to steal her heart and soul to keep for himself and to cherish forever.

Rudolf worshipped her body with his hands and lips. His touch on her was soothing yet exciting. He made her forget that, like Adam and Eve, they would soon lose their paradise

And then they slept, cradled in each other’s arms . . .

*    *    *

The coach entered London on the first day of spring. Their journey home seemed to have passed more quickly than their flight to Scotland, even though the coach was cramped with the boys and the deerhound.

“Holy hell, look at all the people,” Grant exclaimed, staring out the window.

“I never knew there were so many people in the world,” Drake said.

Rudolf and Samantha looked at each other and smiled. “Are you afraid?”

“I am deeply concerned,” Samantha said with a rueful smile.

“I will stand by your side,” Rudolf promised, and lifted her hand to his lips.

Samantha looked out the window when the coach came to an abrupt halt in front of the Duke of Inverary’s townhouse. “We have arrived,” she told the boys.

Without waiting for Karl, Rudolf opened the door and climbed out. He turned to assist Samantha and the boys. Giles leaped down, barked, and followed them up the front stairs.

The foyer seemed crowded. Not only was Tinker, the duke’s majordomo, there to open the door, but the entire family was waiting for them.

Magnus Campbell, the Duke of Inverary, and Aunt Roxie stood together. Her sisters, Angelica and Victoria, perched on a bench while Robert Campbell, her brother-in-law, lounged against a wall as if waiting for the entertainment to begin.

“Oh, my darling,” Aunt Roxie cried, hugging her to her voluptuous bosom. “I feared for your safety.”

“I’m sorry I caused you such worry,” Samantha said.

Aunt Roxie’s gaze shifted to the two boys and the deerhound. “Who are these boys?”

“These are my sons, Grant and Drake,” Samantha answered, faltering when she heard a chuckle from the marquess and the prince. “This is our dog, Giles.”

Her aunt looked surprised. “I beg your pardon?”

“I said, this dog is—”

“I heard that,” her aunt interrupted. “What did you say before?”

Samantha drew the boys close, took a deep breath, and said in a voice that brooked no argument, “Grant and Drake are my soon-to-be-adopted sons.” She looked at the duke, adding, “I hope you will agree to help me with the legal aspect of their adoption.”

Before he could respond, Aunt Roxie seemed to recover herself. She laughed and gushed, “Welcome to London, my darlings. I am your Aunt Roxie.” She gestured to the other young women, saying, “Those are your aunts, Angelica and Victoria, who are going to escort you and your dog upstairs to help you settle in.”

Taking their cue, Angelica and Victoria rose from their perch and smiled at the boys. Angelica, eight months pregnant, held out her hand to Grant, saying, “I know the perfect chamber for you and your dog.”

Grant stared in fascination at her swollen belly.

Seeing where his gaze was, Angelica said, “I’m soon going to have my baby.”

“I thought babies came from Edinburgh,” Grant said in obvious confusion.

Angelica laughed. “I’ll tell you where they really come from in a few years.”

Grant went willingly, but Drake clung to Samantha. Seeing her chance to escape, she stepped toward the stairs, saying, “He’s frightened. I’ll settle them into their chamber.”

“Do not even consider walking up those stairs,” Aunt Roxie warned her. “His Grace has business to discuss with His Highness and you.”

Without acknowledging that her aunt had spoken, Samantha knelt in front of Drake. “You can go with Tory, can’t you? I promise you will be perfectly safe. Tory loves to have fun, just like you.”

Drake cast Victoria a shy smile. When she offered her hand, the boy accepted it and went with her.

“We had better get this over with,” Rudolf said, once the boys had disappeared.

“You’re damn right about that,” Duke Magnus said.

Dreading what was to come, Samantha felt queasy. She had no one to blame but herself. If she hadn’t given the prince her virginity, she would be able to assume an affronted attitude and swear that nothing had happened. Unfortunately, she had never been a good liar.

“You look pale, “Rudolf said, grasping her arm. “Would you care to lie down instead of accompanying us?”

The prince was giving her an escape route. In that moment, she loved him more than ever.

And then her old friend insecurity stepped from the shadows of her mind. Why did he want her upstairs? What did he think would happen in this interview?