Taming the Prince (13 page)

And then he was fully inside her, spreading her wide, and the discomfort Sara had felt initially gradually began to ebb. She felt full of him, as if he had overtaken her, and his dominion excited her beyond belief. Because she could see in his face that she held reign over him, as well. She wasn’t the only one moved by their joining. Shane, too, seemed more than a little overwhelmed.

“You okay?” he asked raggedly when he had sheathed himself completely inside her.

She nodded weakly.

“No pain?”

She shook her head. “Nothing I can’t handle.”

“I don’t want to hurt you, Sara.”

“You won’t.”

“But—”

“Shh,” she said softly, placing two fingers over his lips. “Just make love to me,” she told him. “Please. Make me yours, Shane. Make me always remember this night. Make me never forget…”

As he moved inside her, she found she could no longer
speak, couldn’t finish her sentence about never forgetting him. Slowly, methodically, he withdrew and reentered her, her slick canal hugging his heavy length. Again and again he moved into and out of her, increasing his pace and his depth with each thrust. At Sara’s urging, he abandoned his tender entry for faster, more furious stroking, and she hooked her legs around his waist to pull him deeper still. And then, once again, she began to feel the little ripples of delight spiraling through her. This time, though, they came with a power and a fury they hadn’t before. This time, when Sara cried out, it was in union with Shane, something that made their responses to each other all the more volatile.

And then, as quickly as the eruption had come, it began to ebb. He relaxed against her, rolling to his side and bringing her with him, their bodies still joined. He folded both arms across her bare back, thrusting a hand into her hair at her nape. He pulled her close and kissed her temple with utter sweetness, something that seemed even more intimate than the coupling they had just shared. Then he moved far enough away to gaze at her face, saying nothing, looking into her eyes as if he were once again looking for the answer to some age-old question.

Sara wished she knew how to respond. But all she could manage was to lift a hand to his face and trace his full mouth with trembling fingertips. Then she kissed the lips her fingers had touched and lay her head on the pillow. The last thing she remembered was hearing Shane say her name. And then he said something else, too, but she was just too sleepy to hear it….

Dawn came way too early as far as Shane was concerned, even though, when he awoke, it was to find his senses over-flowing with Sara. He lay on his side, his arm draped over her rosy, naked body, fitted so perfectly against his own, his hand filled with her warm, luscious breast. When he inhaled, he smelled her, all sweet and musky and womanly, and when he opened his eyes to the faint morning light, he
saw her face in profile on the pillow beside his, all elegant lines and graceful beauty. As he watched her, she murmured quietly in her sleep, echoing so many of the erotic sounds she’d uttered the night before, and Shane went hard against her bottom. He remembered how intoxicating she had tasted and, unable to resist, he dipped his head and brushed his lips along her cheek.

She woke slowly, turning her head back toward his, and he moved forward to cover her mouth, kissing her more ardently this time. She murmured another soft sound of pleasure as she kissed him back, reaching one hand lazily behind herself to weave her fingers through his hair. He in turn reached forward, pressing his hand over her naked belly, then down between her legs. She parted them willingly, and he dipped his fingers into her nest of curls, stroking and plowing her until she was damp with desire. He continued to pet her as he pushed himself deep inside her from behind, shoving his hips forward even as she pressed hers back. For long moments, they clung to each other, their mouths locked in a fierce union, Shane pumping gently but swiftly in and out of her. With one final forward thrust, he emptied himself into her one last time, and then both of them lay trembling, back to front, until the sun rose fully over the horizon.

And as whiter light bled over the windowsill, brightening the room and hastening their departure, Shane wished he knew what the hell they were supposed to do now.

Had he told her last night that he loved her? He couldn’t remember now. He thought he might have said the words he’d never once uttered to a woman, but now it seemed a hazy misconception. If he had said them, had he meant them? Oh, surely not, he told himself now. Sometimes a person said something in the throes of passion he might not say otherwise. And man what passion they’d been thrown into the night before. He couldn’t remember ever having such a shattering experience with a woman. Never in his
life had he felt the things he’d felt last night with Sara. And she’d been a—

Oh, jeez, that was another thing. A virgin. He’d never bedded a virgin before. Virgins were just really tricky. They tended to take first times way too seriously. They tended to think of the men involved in those first times as special. The last thing Shane wanted to be for any woman was special. But then, Sara wasn’t just any woman, was she? No, she was—He swallowed hard when he realized. She was special.

Oh, hell. What was he supposed to do now?

Neither seemed to know what to do at that point, because they rose and washed and dressed in an awkward silence. Neither seemed any more inclined to look at the other than they did talk to the other, because they were as good about avoiding each other’s gazes as they were each other’s words. Maybe it was better if they didn’t talk about it, he thought. Not yet. There would be time later, he promised himself. Time for them to sort everything out once they got to Penwyck.

When they made their way downstairs, they found that Hilda had fixed breakfast for the four of them. They made quiet small talk—or, rather, Sara and the Santoses made quiet small talk, since Shane couldn’t begin to think of anything to say himself—and then Enrique offered to drive them to the nearest town, Maria Lupe.

The drive, too, took place mostly in silence, with only a few words exchanged between Sara and their host. Enrique dropped them off in front of the local police station, assuring them, she said through her translation, that the local constabulary would be most helpful about finding the bandits who had overtaken them in the mountains. When she and Shane climbed out of the car and said their goodbyes, Enrique thrust his hand out of the driver’s side window. As he shook Shane’s, he pressed some money into his palm, which Shane accepted guiltily, suspecting it had been hard-
won by the elderly couple. Then their host wished them well and waved goodbye.

And then, once again, Sara and Shane were on their own, neither having a clear idea what to do next.

By mutual agreement, they turned their backs on the police station once Enrique was out of sight. Then, after a brief glance up one side of the street and down the other, they began to make their way toward a hotel that seemed to be the centerpiece for the town square. It made up one side of a small, green, parklike setting, with little shops and cafés hugging the other sides. Shane felt certain they would find a public telephone inside.

“I, um, I wrote down the Santoses’ address before we left so we can pay them back when we get to Penwyck,” he said, jingling the change Enrique had given him with the paper money as they made their way down the street. “I guess right now we should call someone, though.”

Sara nodded. “Yes, of course. I’ll contact the RII immediately and they can tell the RET where we are.”

“The RET?” Shane asked. “Now who the hell are they?”

She seemed relieved by the bland subject matter, because she managed a slight smile—of clear relief. “The RET is part of the RII,” she clarified. “It stands for Royal Elite Team. The cream of the crop, so to speak. They’re essentially the king’s right-hand men. They direct covert operations and rescues and such. But it will be members of the RII who actually come to fetch us.”

“Sounds like an interesting group,” Shane said.

“Yes, they are, actually. As I said, my father worked for them,” she added, almost as an afterthought. “And I have a job waiting there myself once I graduate in the spring.”

Aha, Shane thought. That explained a lot about how Miss Pink Sweater had become Miss Butt Kicker.

“The RII will be the ones who’ve been handling our disappearance,” she continued. “It should make their jobs
easier now that they won’t have to come beating through the brush to look for us.”

Shane nodded toward the hotel. “There’s probably a pay phone inside,” he said. And rooms, too, he thought further, seeing as how it would probably take the RII at least a couple of hours to get to them once they were called and maybe he and Sara could use that time to—

“Yes, of course,” she said, extending her hand toward him.

For a moment, Shane let himself believe she wanted him to take her hand in his and lead her to one of those hotel rooms where they could make a quick phone call and have a not-so-quick tumble. Then he made himself acknowledge that she just wanted the money he held, so he passed it to her. He also realized, much to his surprise, that he didn’t want to get a room so that the two of them could make love again. No, really, all he wanted to do with Sara in a quiet room was talk. About everything that had happened. About what they were going to do now. About what would happen once they arrived in Penwyck. And not just with the potential-missing-heir-to-the-throne thing, either.

“Thanks,” she said softly as she took the money from him…and, as she had since that morning, avoided his gaze.

Then she spun around and made her way up the stairs toward the hotel, leaving Shane nothing to do but follow. It was an antique building, to be sure, but grand, three stories high, and looking like a big, white, old-world palace. Hotel Magnífico, it said in scrolling letters over the dark green awnings that spanned each of the first-story windows. Shane couldn’t possibly disagree.

The inside was as charming as the outside, with pale pink stucco arches, and marble floors dotted with potted palms taller than Shane, and Oriental rugs that were splashed with muted tones. He almost felt as if he’d just stepped onto the set of
Casablanca.

They located a phone in an alcove off the lobby that was partially obscured by some of those man-size palms, and
Sara set about dialing. He knew there was little chance the Black Knights were lurking around, but he kept his back to her as she waited for a response, scanning the hotel lobby in search of suspicious characters and the usual suspects. But the place seemed harmless—not to mention pretty deserted—so he turned an ear to the conversation Sara began behind him. Unfortunately, he could only hear her side of it. But what he heard pretty much let him know that she was getting chewed out. Royally.

“Yes, I realize that, sir,” she was saying apologetically. “But you have to understand that… What? Yes, but… I know, but… But you see, sir, it wasn’t… I know that, but… But there wasn’t any time to… But I had no way of knowing that….” She sighed heavily in defeat and, for several moments, surrendered to the angry male voice buzzing through the line.

Shane could only imagine what it must be costing her to stay silent, and he made a promise to himself to let the big boys of the RII know she’d done all she could with what she’d had to work with. Not that she’d probably welcome his intervention, because he’d seen for himself that she liked to do things her way, but he’d do it anyway.

And then what?
a little voice piped up at the back of his head.

I’ll think about that later,
he immediately replied.

Because, hey, that was Shane’s philosophy when it came to things of a personal, i.e. romantic, nature: Why do today what you could put off until tomorrow? Then again, if he’d put off making love to Sara until tomorrow he never would have known how incredible the two of them would be together.

Yeah,
said the voice.
And you wouldn’t be standing here not knowing what the hell you’re supposed to do, either.

Yeah, yeah, yeah,
Shane thought. He was about to say something snippy to the voice when Sara began to talk again, and he returned his attention to what she was saying.

“As I tried to tell you, sir,” she began again, “I had
little reason to think that was a possibility. I was told this was going to be a routine assignment, escorting Mr. Cordello to Penwyck. And I’ve nearly got him there,” she added. “If you can just send someone to Maria Lupe, Spain, we’ll be waiting in the lobby of the Hotel Magnífico, which is two blocks east of the police station on Calle Norte. How soon can you have someone here? Oh, lovely. Yes, we’ll be fine until then. Thank you. We’ll be waiting in the bar.”

Or a room, Shane wanted to say. They could get a room instead. Hey, why take chances, right?

Before he could make the suggestion, however, Sara hung up the phone with ferocity, then growled under her breath and spun around to lean against the wall. Evidently her altercation with her superior had squashed whatever discomfort she’d felt being with Shane, because now she spoke readily and to his face.

“What a stupid git,” she said. “They act like I did this on purpose. As if I wanted the two of us to be hijacked and kidnapped and imprisoned. Oh, yes. There’s nothing I enjoy more than running through the brush during the cold night with no provisions and a big gorilla hot on my trail.”

Shane forced a smile. “And even though I did that stick thing I promised, you never even invited me up for a nightcap,” he said.

She sobered at that, meeting his gaze levelly. “I am truly sorry to have gotten you into this,” she said. “Had I suspected for a moment that the Black Knights would try something like this, I never—”

“You don’t owe me an apology, Sara,” Shane interrupted. “What happened wasn’t your fault.”

“But it was, don’t you see?” she objected. “I was entrusted to bring you safely back to Penwyck, and I failed miserably.”

“You didn’t fail,” he said. “You’re taking me safely back to Penwyck. It’s just going to take a little longer than we thought, that’s all.”