Crowning His Kidnapped Princess

Marcelo laughed through the pain of desire firing through him. ‘As much as I long to whisk you back to the castle right now, we need to wait a few minutes or my obvious arousal will be front-page news.’

Her beguiling eyes widened. ‘You’re aroused right now? Really?’

He covered her hand with his and brought it to his mouth. ‘Did you really expect me to have an hour-long discussion about sex with the sexiest woman on the planet and for my body not to react?’

Her eyes gleamed. ‘I have a lot to learn.’

Now that she’d made her mind up Clara was impatient to get home but the short drive back to the castle, her hand tightly entwined with Marcelo’s, dragged interminably. She remembered going on a school trip to a theme park when she was ten. She’d never been to a theme park before and had longed to ride on a roller-coaster. The night before, she’d been far too excited to sleep and had almost thrown her breakfast up before she left. That was the closest she could remember to how she felt now.

The thuds of her heart accelerated when their driver entered the castle’s grounds. So powerful were they that their ripples churned in her belly. But there was no fear that she would be sick from them.

How funny that she’d lived twenty-two years without even a flicker of desire for a man and then, virtually overnight, her mind had become consumed with thoughts of Marcelo and sex. Now it was like those thoughts had fed into her bloodstream and spread to every nerve ending. Anticipation thrummed so heavily in her that her only fear was that she wouldn’t like it when he touched her. She hoped she would like it and that all these wonderful new sensations had some meaning, otherwise why would she have them? It would be a disappointing waste.

They’d reached their private carpark.

They were home.

Suddenly anxious, she tugged at his hand. ‘Promise you won’t be angry with me if I change my mind.’

Through the castle grounds night lights, she saw his features contort.

Brushing a thumb along her cheekbone, he quietly said, ‘I will take whatever you’re willing to give. Nothing more. You have my word.’

The driver opened the door.

Clara gazed into Marcelo’s steadfast stare a moment longer then smiled her relief and twisted round to jump out.

While she waited for him to join her, she gazed up at the stars and hugged herself. Whatever the outcome of what they were about to share together, she knew she was in safe hands and that when she got cold feet or found what they were doing too repulsive to continue, he would put his clothes back on and wish her a goodnight.

The odds were, it would be rubbish—how could reality live up to expectation, even if her expectations were low?—but at least when she eventually morphed into a white-haired spinster with a menagerie of pets, she’d be able to look back on this night and say she’d had a go at sex. She doubted they would go as far as full-blown sex because she had no idea how she was supposed to know when she’d be ready and just because excitement threaded her insides did not mean it would be the same on the outside. She might find his touch on her naked flesh repellent. She hoped not. She hoped she would like it enough that at some point her body would flash a neon sign at her that said, You’re ready!

Once inside and the staff dismissed for the night, Clara kicked her heels off while Marcelo headed to the bar and removed a bottle of Scotch and two glasses with a raised eyebrow in question.

‘Why not?’ she murmured, thinking for the hundredth time how sexy he looked in a tuxedo. She hoped he looked as sexy naked. She hoped it got that far.

He poured them both a glass.

Eyes locked together, they drank.

‘Another?’

She shook her head and pressed her palm to his cheek so she could feel the soft bristles of his beard on her skin. ‘Let’s go upstairs.’

He captured her hand before she could remove it. His stare bore into her with its intensity. ‘Nothing more than you are willing to give.’

She smiled. ‘And nothing more than you’re willing to give.’

He laughed. It sounded pained to her ears.

At the top of the stairs, Marcelo opened his bedroom door and extended an arm in invitation. The expression on his face clearly told her he wouldn’t argue if she changed her mind and locked herself in her own room.

She wasn’t even close to changing her mind. At least, not yet...