Affairs of State(43)
Simon nibbled her jaw and neck, his breath hot and urgent. “I don’t know what I’m going to do without you.”
So she wasn’t the only one thinking it. They slipped under the bed clothes together. “You’ll do what you did before you met me. You know, climb mountains, jump over waterfalls, that kind of thing.”
“You’re probably right. At least until my next trip to D.C.” He maneuvered himself on top of her and his erection nudged her belly.
She inhaled a shaky breath. “Who knows what will happen between now and then?” No doubt the royals would warn him to stay away from her. If he had any sense, he’d probably listen. She’d be busy with her own dramas—meeting her father on national television, her frantic work schedule, dodging photographers.
“Let’s not think about the future. We don’t want to waste a single precious second of our last night together.” Arousal thickened his voice. He raised his hips and entered her.
Desire and relief crashed through her as she felt him deep inside her. Sheer physical pleasure was a welcome change from all the thinking and plotting and scrambling she did during the day. Simon’s powerful arms felt like the safest place to be in the whole world.
They moved together effortlessly, drawing to the brink of madness and back, as they tried to wring every last ounce of passion out of each other, only to find there was an inexhaustible well of it bubbling somewhere deep inside them.
When her orgasm came, Ariella wanted to cry. The feelings inside her were just too much. Desire and fear and pleasure and panic and wanting to stay right here in Simon’s hot and hungry embrace until the world ended.
Simon gripped her tight, as if he was afraid she’d drift off into the night breeze. “Oh, Ariella,” he whispered in her ear. She loved the way he said her name, with his formal sounding British accent and such conviction. She was sure no medieval knight ever serenaded his lady with such intensity.
She simply breathed, holding tight to the precious moments where she felt at peace, before she’d be spat back out into the world and have to fend for herself.
* * *
In the morning an alarm sounded, reminding them both that she had a plane to catch in a little over four hours. It was odd that you could be sleeping in a royal palace, with a prince, no less, then have to battle your way into coach and cram your bags into the overhead bin and hope your neighbor didn’t drool on you while he slept.
She wanted to laugh, but nothing seemed too funny right now.
“Did you like my family?” Simon’s odd question came out of nowhere.
It startled her into a fib. “They were very nice.”
“Except Uncle Derek.” His voice sounded curious.
“Yes, except him.”
He sat up. “Did he say something to you?”
She hesitated for a moment. Why hadn’t she told him about this already? She didn’t want to spoil their last night together. And she knew it would upset him. “Kind of.” Simon took her hand and peered into her face. She wanted to run from his thoughtful and caring expression, not hurt his feelings by telling him what his uncle had said to her. “I have to get ready.”
“What did he say?”
“Oh, nothing really.” She tried to get up, but he held her hand firm.
“I don’t believe you. Come on, word for word or I’ll have to start in with the medieval torture techniques.” He acted like he was going to tickle her. But neither of them laughed.
“He said you’re going to marry Sophia Alnwick soon.”
“Which you already know is not true.”
“And he reminded me of what happened the last time a British royal got involved with an American.”
“You’re hardly Wallace Simpson.”
“I told him that. Not that it matters, anyway, since we’re barely even dating. It was silly. I didn’t think it was worth mentioning.”
“Did anyone else say anything?”
“Not really. Though the queen did seem fairly interested in when I was going back to the States. I suspect they’ll all be glad to see the back of me so you can go back to dating some nice, suitable English girls.” She smiled and tried to sound jokey. That was what would happen after all.
But Simon’s face was like stone. “I’ll have a talk with them.” He frowned. “I’m sorry they made you feel uncomfortable.”
“I was fine, really. It was fun. I’ve never been to a polo match before and I loved watching you play.”