Some Like it Secret (Going Royal Book 4) (13 page)

“I don’t want to fight with you,” she whispered on a sigh. His arm tightened once, but he said nothing. After a long moment, she frowned. “Bastian?”

“I’m not saying a word until the chocolate gets here,” he told her solemnly.

Surprised, Meredith twisted to look at him and, beneath his very serious mask, a glint of humor warmed his eyes. The corner of her mouth started to twitch and, as one, they burst out laughing.

Chapter Nine

 

 

True to his word, Bastian didn’t say anything until the chocolate arrived. When it did, he filled two mugs with hot cocoa and set up a tray on the bed. By unspoken agreement, they sat across from each other. The chef sent up a tray of chocolate delicacies from strawberries wrapped in dark and white chocolate to mousse. “You know, a candy bar would have sufficed.”

The corner of his mouth curved up. “Don’t tell Philippe. He will be disappointed if you don’t enjoy these. Desserts are his favorite to prepare, though I admit his talents are wasted on me and my brothers.”

“I suppose offending him wouldn’t help anyone.” Meredith wrinkled her nose, but picked up one of the strawberries.

“No.” He sighed and set his mug down on the table next to the bed. The weighted bottoms on the cups and plates kept them steady. It was amazing how comfortable she was with the sway of the yacht. It had taken her several visits to acclimate. “Meredith, are you really afraid of flying?”

She sighed, wishing not for the first time that she hadn’t blurted her confession out. “Yes. It makes me nervous. The doctor gave me a prescription, but sometimes I don’t have it with me.” Like when he would surprise her, sending a car to the school to fetch her with no warning. She’d leave without even a bag to her name and endure the trip. “I got used to it, and you were always waiting for me on the other end of the flight.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He frowned. “I’ve flown you all over the world.”

“I know.” Meredith finished the strawberry and reached for one of the glass dishes filled with dark chocolate mousse. Dipping her spoon in, she shrugged. “I wanted to see you and it never seemed important once I was there. I’m not always afraid. You actually make me forget I’m on a plane when you’re with me.”

His expression softened. “Be that as it may, tell me when something frightens you. I can’t fix it if I don’t know there is a problem.”

“Oh, you mean like me not knowing you wanted to marry me? How was I supposed to know, again?” She pinned him with a look. “Which conversation about that lovely little gem did I miss?”

Bastian leaned his head back and let out a groan. “I’ve wanted to propose since our first anniversary.”

Her spoon halted halfway to her mouth. They’d been on the yacht during their first anniversary, her very first trip. He surprised her, one of many over the course of their weeklong interlude. She remembered it was the first time Bastian made sure it was only the two of them. Even with the yacht’s staff and his regular security, she’d seen very little of anyone besides Bastian. They’d sailed through tropics, swam in crystal clear waters, and just played together. “I don’t remember a proposal…” Granted, they drank a
lot
of wine over the duration of the week, but she’d remember regardless, wouldn’t she?

Amusement warred with exasperation in his expression. “Do you remember the night we dined on the deck?”

She remembered skinny-dipping afterward, and her face heated. Bastian showed her the glowing plankton and fish. The water had been warm, like silk. Clearing her throat, she nodded and stuffed a spoonful of mousse into her mouth to keep the decadent thoughts to herself.

His smile deepened, revealing his dimple. Everything in her went low and tight. She loved him so much. “I am referring to the dinner, not the beauty afterward.”

“Yes.” She blushed and dipped her head to let her hair fall over her face. It never failed. He could turn her into a puddle of schoolgirl neuroses and longing with one look. “I remember. We ate something incredibly fancy with four names and seven courses and a bottle of very expensive French wine that you told me a story about.”

This time he gave her a true grin. “And they delivered the black velvet box with the dinner.”

“Oh, the necklace—” She scooped up more of the chocolate and ate it. Nerves fluttered like mad to race around the core of heat blooming in her belly. “It was far too expensive.” So many diamonds—chocolate diamonds, he’d called them. The piece was absolutely exquisite. “It was—it was beautiful.” And far too much for her. He’d put it around her neck, insisting she at least try it on and, when she’d seen it there?
Wow.
Her heart had done a little summersault.

“Do you remember what you said?” His gaze locked on her as he picked up one of the thin wafers of chocolate and offered it. Leaning forward, she accepted it and laved her tongue against his skin just to watch the heat scorch across his eyes. Yes, she knew how to get to him, too.

“I said I could never wear it.” She’d always regretted reality intruding into their moment. “I was in my first year of tenure, so I really needed to prove myself. Those diamonds were exquisite, but too much.” If she’d stopped there, it would have been fine, but she’d said more.

“And?” he prompted.

Meredith sighed. “And I’m not one of those women you drape in diamonds and then escort around like some type of arm ornament.” She made a face because, while the words were bad, they really weren’t the worst. “Don’t get any ideas about me. Do I look like I want to be a princess?” She grimaced and put a hand over her mouth. “Please tell me you weren’t planning to propose.”

“I would, but it would be a lie.” Sebastian tapped her nose lightly. “You had plans, Meredith. Big plans. You spent the next hour telling me how you were going to rock the academic world. You were so alive with it, practically sparkling.”

“So you just decided to not ask?” Had they missed their opportunity because of her ambition?

“I decided what I wanted more than anything was you by my side, but I wanted you happy to be there. I wanted to ensure your freedom to chase your dreams. How could I ask you to give up your plans and aspirations with only me as poor recompense?”
The earnest simplicity in his response…

“Wait a minute, how are you poor recompense?” She straightened and caught his hand when he would have pulled it back. This was important. “If I don’t get to call myself nobody, you don’t get to call yourself a booby prize.”

“My life is dictated by rules, rituals and guards—”

“And death threats.” It made her cold just to think about it. “But Bastian, you’re wonderful. You see all these beautiful things everywhere you go. I mean you
really
see them. The artists along the Seine, how many did you sponsor? Or the lady with the dolls in Belgium. You paid for her home then gave her a stipend so she would keep making those dolls for children. When the Canadian floods nearly shut down a zoo because the damage was so extensive, I know it was you paid for the repairs. It wasn’t your brother, his company, or his title, but you.”

“I didn’t tell you about the zoo.” A frown arrested his features.

“No, but you called me.” It was her turn to grin. “I heard elephants in the background. I remember you saying you needed to delay our trip by a day, and I could hear the animals. Still, you wouldn’t say why. A couple of weeks later, there was a special on one of the news programs about a secret angel who rescued the whole shebang.”

“You assumed it was me?” His neutral tone proved difficult to decipher. Was he surprised she’d noticed? Or worried he failed to hide it as well as he’d believed?

“If you didn’t want to tell me, I assumed you must have your reasons.” She’d made assumptions, but so had he. Their entire relationship was built on a tower of presumption. Mirth failed her. “Have we screwed this up? Irrevocably?”

“No.” She believed the stern conviction in his voice. “I have damaged your trust and given you fair reason to question your faith in me.”

His declaration brought her upright. “Bastian—”

He squeezed her hand, tugged her forward, and pressed a firm kiss to her lips. “I don’t like to be interrupted.”

“I’m aware.” She grinned. “I do it because you need to be reminded you aren’t the only one in the room.”

“Never when you’re here. You’re the only one I see,” he told her. “But listen to me for now. Please?”

It was the please that did it. He so rarely said the word, and she knew he implied it more often than not, but he was a man raised to give orders, not make requests. “All right, but can we move the tray? If I dive face first into all this chocolate, I’m going to be bouncing off the walls.” Also, she wanted to be closer to him.

After releasing her, he shifted the tray over to the counter housing the other food. When he returned to sit on the bed, she crawled right up next to him and slid her arms around him. Certainly, they had a lot left to talk about and, yes, part of her was still angry. But even when he’d thought she might have taken Terry as a lover, he hadn’t pulled away from her. The memory of his constant care and comfort—always—bolstered her courage.

“All right,” she told him, after snuggling up to his warmth. “I’m listening.”

He chuckled and tangled his fingers in her hair. A light tug tilted her head back to meet his gaze. “I can think of far more pleasant diversions than baring my soul when you’re like this.”

Good.
She’d wanted to remind him as much as herself, but she made a face at him. “No nookie for you, mister. We know exactly how compatible we are there.”

“Yes, we do.” He cupped her throat and a shiver scissored her resolve. “I know I’ve damaged your trust in me, and I will do everything to repair it. I have never lied about needing you in my life. Even the small parts we share are so much more preferable to nothing. I will take you however I can have you. I love you, Meredith.”

Then he said those magical words aloud. Thank God she’d been sitting, because she wanted to melt into a puddle. “Oh Bastian…I love you, too.” She had no idea who reached for who first, but his mouth was on hers, demanding access, and she surrendered to it. He cupped her breast through the shirt, and she went from longing to molten in seconds. Dragging at his lower lip, she pulled back. “No nookie,” she reminded him.

“No nookie,” he agreed and kissed the pulse point in her throat. Then she was on her back and he continued his sweet torment by trailing his hot kisses down to the opening of her shirt to the top of her breast.

“Bastian,” she groaned. He caught her nipple through the shirt and gave it the gentlest of tugs with his teeth.

“This isn’t nookie,” he told her. “It’s my version of chocolate. I find I can’t continue anymore of this without some chocolate.” He continued his descent, parting the shirt as he went. She laughed.

“Well, in that case…” His mouth closed over her sex through her panties and she forgot to think at all. The hot wet kiss drove her mad. He pulled away only to strip the fabric down her legs before the heavy, hard weight of him returned. The dip and swirl of his tongue sent her pleasure ratcheting up. It was both too much and not enough.

“Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?” he whispered against her thigh before kissing his way back up to her bared breasts. He lingered on first one and then the other.

She wasn’t sure how she could answer under the sensual assault. Her breathing grew rapid as he swirled his tongue over one erect nipple in a back and forth motion which sent heat to throb through her lower body. A moment later, he levered himself up and she could only watch in a daze of utter lust as he stripped off his clothes.

The man had the best body, all tense and rippled and thick in the right places. Adding his natural charm to the mix along with the dark crown of his hair and the errant lock that fell into his eyes, he devastated her senses. He didn’t give her long to look before he covered her naked body with his and captured her mouth for another long, greedy kiss. His hands seemed to be everywhere, stroking, touching, and teasing. When he cupped her sex, she cried out against his mouth. He pursued her pleasure with relentless demand.

Some fogged over portion of her mind recognized the claim for what it was—he was staking ownership and demonstrating exactly whom she belonged to and it was magnificent. She never wanted him to stop. His finger slid against her clit, teasing it wickedly, and unleashed a torrent within her. Every circular swipe of his finger against her sensitive flesh pushed her higher and she spiraled on delight. He drove her right up to the edge, and her inner muscles clenched at the first invasion of his finger. He pulled back and then slid in a second with another thrust.

Arching her back, she lifted her hips to meet the sensation. A hot smile curved his lips, and his eyes darkened. He knew exactly what he was doing to her. Then he increased the pressure and every nerve ending her body seemed to light up with the promise of her orgasm. Just when she thought she couldn’t take it anymore, he pulled his hand away.

She wanted to cry out from the loss, but then he angled and thrust inside of her and never once took his gaze away. Every stroke of his body sent spasms of pleasure spiraling through her. She couldn’t look away, the darkness reflected in his eyes held her captive.

So connected to him, she fought to ride the cresting waves. She felt naked, raw and exposed. She loved him so much and his passion and love reflected in the ferocity of his gaze. When his jaw clenched, she locked her legs around his hips, increasing the angle. She could feel him so deep inside, they would never be apart. The shift of his thrust splintered her focus, and she toppled over the edge. He followed her, his hips pumping as his climax took him.

They tumbled together, and he collapsed against her. He rested his forehead to hers, and never once did he look away. “I love you,” he told her, which made her want to fly all over again. “Only ever you.”

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