A/N-Thanks for all the reviews, follows and favs. You guys are amazing. And special thanks to Bekki, this one is for you.

(Cologne)


Regina Mills shifted on the hospital bed, one hand curled around her cell phone, the other hand pushing aside hot tears. She had to call him. She had no choice. Having to depend on the man she couldn't get out of her life fast enough after their one-night stand wasn't a prospect she relished, but for her baby, she'd do anything. Swallow her pride and try to let go of the burning anger.

Her free hand dropped to rest on the burgeoning swell of her belly, and she felt the sturdy reassurance of her daughter's kick. How would Robin react when she told him he was going to be a father? Would he even care? She shook her head in mute denial. Surely, no matter his feelings for her, he wouldn't turn his back on his child.

There was only one way to find out and that was to push the send button. His private phone number was already punched in. But she still couldn't bring herself to complete the call. She let the phone drop to her chest and closed her eyes. If only there weren't complications with her pregnancy. Why couldn't she be one of these beautiful, glowing women who were pictures of health?

Her thoughts were interrupted when her door swung open and a nurse bustled in, pushing a cart with the computer she used to log her charts.

"How are you feeling today, Miss Mills?"

Regina nodded and whispered a faint, "Fine."

"Have you made arrangements for your care after your release?"

Regina swallowed but didn't say anything. The nurse gave her a reproving look.

"You know the doctor won't release you until he's satisfied that you'll have someone to look after you while you're on bed rest."

A sigh escaped Regina's lips and she held up the phone. "I was just about to make a call."

The nurse nodded approvingly. "Good. As soon as I'm done I'll leave you alone to finish."

A few minutes later the nurse left, and once again Regina lifted the phone and stared at the LCD screen. Maybe he wouldn't even answer.

Taking a deep, fortifying breath, she punched her thumb over the send button then closed her eyes and put the phone to her ear. There was a brief silence as the call connected, and then it began to ring.

Once. Twice. Then a third time. She was preparing to chicken out and cut the connection when his brusque voice filled her ear.

"Locksley."

It came out more of a growl than anything else, and she quickly lost courage. Her breath came stuttering out as more tears welled in her eyes.

"Who is this?" he demanded.

She yanked the phone away and clumsily jabbed at the buttons until the call ended. She couldn't do this. Issuing a silent apology to her unborn baby, she decided that she'd find another way. There had to be something she could do that didn't involve Robin Locksley.

Before she could dwell too long on such possibilities, the phone pulsed in her hand. She opened it automatically, a second before she realized that he was calling her back.

Only her soft breathing spilled into the receiver.

"I know you're there," Robin barked. "Now who the hell is this and how did you get my number?"

"I'm sorry," she said in a low voice. "I shouldn't have bothered you."

"Wait," he commanded. Then there was a long pause. "Regina, is that you?"

Oh God. She hadn't counted on him recognizing her voice. How could he? They hadn't spoken in five months. Five months, one week and three days to be exact.

"Y-yes," she finally said.

"Thank God," he muttered. "I've been looking everywhere for you. Just like a damn female to disappear off the face of the earth."

"What?" Regina asked.

"Where are you?" Robin asked.

The questions came simultaneously.

"Me first," he said imperiously. "Where are you? Are you all right?"

She laid there in stunned silence before she gathered her scattered wits. "I'm in the hospital."

"Gods!" There was another rapid smattering of words that she couldn't follow.

"Where?" he bit out. "What hospital? Tell me."

Completely baffled at the turn the conversation had taken, she told him the name of the hospital. Before she could say anything else, he cut in with, "I'll be there as soon as I can."

And then the line went dead.

With shaking hands, she folded the phone shut and set it aside. Then she curled her fingers around the bulge of her abdomen. He was coming? Just like that? He'd been looking for her? None of it made sense.

Then she realized that she'd never told him the most important piece of information. The entire reason she'd called him to begin with. She hadn't told him she was pregnant.

A Few Months Earlier…

Regina paused just outside the perimeter of the outdoor bar and stared over the sand-covered floor to the blazing torches lining the walkway down to the beach here in Cologne, Germany. Music played softly, a perfect accompaniment to the clear, star-strung night. In the distance, the waves rolled in harmony with the sultry melody. Soft jazz. Her favorite.

It was pure chance that had directed her to this tiny paradise. A vacated seat on a plane, a bargain ticket price and only five minutes to decide. And here she was. A new place, a vow to take a few days for herself.

Not being completely impulsive, the first thing she'd done when she'd arrived was to find a new temporary job, and as luck would have it, had learned that the owner of the opulent Prince of Thieves hotel was going to be in temporary residence here and needed an assistant. The opportunity had almost been too good to be true. Along with a generous salary, she'd also been given a room at the hotel. It had the makings of a marvelous vacation.

Her parents had been furious with her just up and leaving like she had. Her mother in particular, Cora Mills had explained to Regina in no mistaken terms, that she wanted Regina to stay home for this next week, that there was a huge reason about her future, and that she needed to be home that particular weekend. There was someone that she needed to meet, mother had told her. Someone that could shape her future with a firm hand. Her mother had explained that she was going to marry some prince from Germany. Regina had been shocked, had argued with her mother, but Cora had been firm.

Regina hadn't looked back, she decided her future which she had told them in a note she had left for them. But in her heart, she knew she would go back one day and face the consequences of her actions.

"Care for a drink?"

The question, asked by a distinctly male voice, sent a ripple of unease through Regina. Voices like that only came from years of power. Regina turned, knowing by his voice that it was him.

Him.

The one who'd distracted her when she'd walked into the hotel, she had been heading to the front desk to check in, when she had felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. Chills had covered her arms, and she had turned to see the gaze of a man, a gaze that had seemed to have left her.

"A drink?" She repeated.

"As in a beverage," he answered almost gently, smiling a little and yet the smile remained at his lips, failed to warm his eyes. Instead his blue eyes burned, his eyes owned her, possessed her, a hard sexual possession that had nothing to do with civilized behavior and everything to do with bodies. Skin.

Her skin.

She felt a cool silvery shoot down her spine, and her body reacted, hair at her nape lifting, goose bumps prickling her arms, even her breast firmed, nipples peaking. "I understand the concept. We have beverages in America, too," she said, letting him know she understood that he was foreign, and yet he couldn't intimidate her.

But she was wary. Not because he posed a physical threat, but because he was different, and she'd always been fascinated by that which was unusual. Intriguing. And he was certainly intriguing. Tall, handsome. His accent was different as it was English, but there was also a hint of something else.

"Then you'll join me," he said, indicating his table.

His confidence dazzled her. "I..I've got plans already."

"Change them."

There was something raw about him, something male and stunningly primitive which didn't go with his superbly tailored suit, the sleep lapel just so, jacket molded, shaping the shoulders and chest, the trousers hanging perfectly, the cuffs hitting the top of his shoe. She'd dated a number of men in the past year and none had been like him. "I can't."

His brow furrowed, his eyes hardening. "You must," he said, his tone deceptively soft. "It's important."

Important how? Important to who?

"Did someone send you?" she asked, looking up into his blue eyes, and once she did, she couldn't look away. He virtually commanded attention, and as she stared at him, she felt the oddest prickle beneath her skin. More awareness. More unease.

"No."

Her insides tightened. The prickle spread, tinging from her nape to the small of her spine. She didn't know him, did she? Regina shook her head trying to break the strange weave of tension because something was happening here and she didn't like it. Her body felt funny. Her chest constricted. She couldn't seem to breathe right. And yet she still couldn't look away from him.

He knew it, too. His straight brows were flat, his eyes intently watching hers.

"I'm tired. I've been on a plane for hours." Regina said.

"Then why don't you relax with a drink." He said.

"I-" she protested but he was walking away, taking a seat at a small scuffed table bare except for a flickering votive candle. She watched as he flagged down a cocktail waitress and ordered a bottle of champagne, very expensive champagne, before looking up and catching her eye.

Almost daring her.

He smiled, the smile of one who is used to winning.

Pulse quickening, she headed towards his table, her pumps echoing on the hardwood floor. "I'm not joining you," she said, reaching his table.

"Yet, here you are."

She hated the sarcastic lift of his eyebrow. "I don't want you to waste your money."

"It's just money."

She thought of how she had struggled not too long ago, how she'd taken two jobs just to pay for the essentials. "It's still wasteful."

"Then you better not let it go undrunk."

Her heart thudded hard, so hard she could feel it pound all the way through her. "What do you want?"

The flickering candlelight played off his face, catching the subtle curve of his lips. There was nothing remotely boyish in his chiseled features. He had a man's face, strong, developed features and she felt something stir inside her, her body betraying her.

Her body liked the way he looked at her.

Her body wanted him to continue looking at her.

He studied her face for a long, level moment, considering her, considering his answer. "I think the question should be, what do you want?"

His answer simply accelerated her racing pulse. Fear, fascination, worry, adrenaline surged through her and her muscles tensed. "This isn't about me."

"But of course, it's about you." He gestured to the chair opposite him. "Please, sit."

She did as he requested, she leaned forward in the chair, her long hair tumbling her shoulders. "Who are you anyway?"

"Robert Wesley."

She stared at him a long moment, silently repeated his name.

"Where are you from Mr. Wesley?" Regina asked, stirring in her seat, fingers flexing even so slightly.

"Robin," he corrected, biting back a sigh. "My friends and family always call me Robin, you should too."

"Yes, but I-"

"Should call me Robin," he interrupted. He looked her over, she was slender, and yet sultry, with long dark hair, lashes so thick and black they made her look sleepy and at the same time they made her part of this sultry night. Sexy. Seductive. Mysterious.

As he was about to say something more, another man walked up. "Hello." He spoke to Regina, not him. "I'm Jack and I was wondering if you would like to have a drink with me."

Regina looked up at him for a few seconds before she said. "I'm sorry, but I already have an offer."

"But-" Jack started.

"She's taken." Robin said as the other man acted as if he just noticed that Robin was also there. He smiled at Regina and walked off.

"How could you do that?" Regina demanded.

"He was drunk." Robin answered.

"He was only being polite." Regina said.

Robin glanced over his shoulder, caught sight of Jack stumbling out of the bar. "You don't know the meaning of the word nice, mein Schatz."

"It's Regina, not Liebling. And I find your attitude patronizing as well as chauvinistic." Regina said.

Her temper was hot, Robin noted. Her face was pale, oval, and luminous in the lighting of the bar. "I don't want to see you get hurt." He said roughly, trying to forget the way she had walked as she had entered the bar.

"Why do you even care?" She shot back. "You know nothing about me."

"True." Robin conceded.

"And Jack was just being friendly." Regina said.

"Wild dogs can be friendly." Robin countered.

Her cheeks flamed with color but she eyed him steadily. "You know, you're the one who isn't nice. You're pushy. Domineering. Arrogant-"

"Because I'm honest?" Robin asked. Her directness surprised him.

"Because you're rude. Jack was just trying to be polite." Regina said.

"And you think that's all he wanted?" Robin asked. Every man would want her. Ache for her. And he understood. She looked sexual. Primal.

"What I need is none of your concern." Regina snapped, voice husky, breaking.

Wrong, he answered silently, unable to look away from the fire in her dark eyes. You are mine, and what you need concerns me in every way possible.

He wanted her. Possess her. Own her. Because she was his.

Physical desire hadn't been part of the equation when he had agreed to marry the youngest Mills daughter. For while Robert Wesley may be his name, it was not his complete name. No, his formal name was Prince Robert (Robin) Wesley Locksley of Isenburg. And while technically there was no longer Kings and Queens who ruled their country, because the monarchy was dismantled in 1918 after World War One, they still kept their titles.

His father had been friends with Henry Mills from their younger days, and while the two men had stayed close through the years, it had been hoped for that Robin would marry a daughter of Henry, and together Henry and Cora had both decided that Regina would be the one who would marry Prince Robin. He thought it would be a business arrangement. Together they'd be fruitful and multiply. He'd have his heir.

After meeting this free spirit, he knew it would take quite some time to win her over. He definitely had his work cut out for him. She didn't know who he was, didn't know about the arrangement between their fathers for them.

Would all this work in his favor?

The cocktail waitress arrived with the champagne bottle and two freshly washed flutes.

Regina didn't even look at the waitress, her head turned, her gaze averted. He realized she was fighting hard to control her temper. The waitress popped the cork but still Regina refused to make eye contact with him. He had no patience for theatrics. He was the one that should be angry, not her. Six weeks ago he had heard that she had finally been found, here in his own country. In Cologne!

He had thought she was safe back in New York with her family. Planning their wedding.

"I was protecting you." Robin said at last, exasperated by her stubborn silence.

"I don't need your protection," she answered tartly as the waitress filled their flutes, the pale gold champagne bubbling out fast, sending white foam spilling over the delicate glass rims.

He waited for the waitress to leave. "You're naïve."

"You're European."

"And that's a problem?"

"Yes."

He sat silent a moment studying her. "Why?"

He looked at her so hard Regina shivered on the inside. There was something intense in his gaze, something that reached into her and held her still. She didn't dislike him. She was just terrified of him. Of her response to him. He made her feel painfully self-conscious, far too aware of herself. Far too aware of him.

"And what are your issues with European men, mein Schatz?"

Her issues…

Regina swallowed, shifted in her seat. Suddenly she couldn't think of anything but how she felt. Because she felt wild, as if there was only chaos on the inside and her skin could barely hold it all in. She was humming right now, her body literally zinging with nervous energy. It crossed her mind that everything that she was afraid of, everything she feared, was everything that she'd wanted to know, to experience.

Like sex. She wanted to know all about sex. She wanted to live it, feel it, understand it. She wanted to be part of the world before her mother found her and had her locked away under some stranger's hand.

"I'm waiting." Robin said.

But not patiently, she thought, all fire on the inside, an incredible roar of flame and heat. He was doing this to her. He was making her feel hot, irritable, explosive. He was making her think of all the things she didn't know. Ignition, blaze, combustion. She felt a tremor course through her. "European men are …difficult."

"How so?"

His voice wrapped around her skin, warm, discomfiting. "They're demanding."

"As they should be."

This was madness, she thought, alarm sounding in the back of her brain. You should be getting up and leaving now. You should be anywhere but sitting here, with him. But she couldn't move, couldn't look away. Robert Wesley was different from the men she knew, different from anyone she'd ever met. He was thrilling in a heart stopping kind of way. Thrilling like dancing on the mouth of the volcano. "Possessive."

"A virtue."

"Proud."

Robin lifted a flute, held it out to her, the gold liquid shimmering in the votive's flickering light. "Without a doubt."

She hesitated before taking the glass. And once she took the flute, he flashed her a shadow of a smile, looking every bit the predator. Then he lifted his own flute in a toast. "And you're wise to remember that, mein Schatz."

Sweetheart.

This man that she had just met was calling her his sweetheart?

On the inside, she was thrilled but she wouldn't show it. The past year she had grown stronger. More determined. She'd do what needed to be done. Once she returned home. But she hadn't returned yet.

She had a little more time, some freedom still.

"Cheers," he said, lightly clinking his glass with hers.

Glancing across at the handsome, sexy Robert Wesley, Regina couldn't help wondering if she still had time to find that romance to last a lifetime, a romance that would carry her through years of cordial martial relations, but relations that lacked the fire and ice.

And she wanted fire. She wanted sex. Passion.

She really wanted sex.

"Cheers," she whispered, lifting her flute to her lips, knowing her mother would be so pissed right now if she could see Regina.

Cora had worked so hard to instill both Regina and Zelena with good morals, values and integrity, how many times had she heard from her mother how that modern women today lacked all that. Regina tolerated her spoiled older sister, who always seemed to think the world was out to get her. Often Zelena would blame Regina for something she had nothing to do with. Cora would take Zelena's side many times over Regina, telling Regina to just go back up to her room.

Well, Regina thought, I'm going to enjoy this last bit of freedom. She needed tonight. She needed something that was so hot, so intense that she would remember it forever. She needed something that was all hers, something that no one could take from her.

The champagne tasted cold and fizzed across her tongue and yet she swallowed it hot going down. Carefully she set the glass back down, and as she returned the flute to the table, Robert reached out to take her left hand in his. She shivered at his touch. His gaze lifted, he looked up into her eyes and then back down at her hand. For a long moment, he simply inspected her bare fingers.

"No ring?" he asked at last, holding her hand firmly, her palm brushing his, his fingers wrapped around hers.

Heat exploded inside her at the prolonged contact, " I'm not married."

Again, he looked up into her eyes. "Surely you're spoken for?"

Regina hated the sharp nibble of guilt, the bite on her conscience. She knew she would never be able to sit here, do this, if she could picture this man's face that her mother wanted her to marry. Whoever this faceless man was he obviously never thought of her, never wanted to meet the woman he was to be married to.

He had never bothered with her at all.

Hurt, ashamed, Regina burned hot, then cold. "I'm not much for jewelry."

Robin made a rough sound in the back of his throat, his fingers closing more firmly around hers. "You're not dating, are you?"

Her sense of self-preservation told her to be careful, very careful. She saw the intensity of his expression, the flame in his eyes. He was angry for some reason. But why? Regina swallowed, struggled to speak around the lump forming in her throat. "I do go out occasionally."

He released her hand and she quickly made a fist, trying to forget how his touch had jolted through her, sharp and hot like the lick of a flame. How could such an impersonal touch, the simple clasp of fingers, make her feel this, or so raw and exposed?

How could the touch of his hand make her want more heat, more sensation, more skin?

Maybe…maybe he could be…

She lifted her head, looked into his face. Their gazed locked and she saw something in his eyes that filled her with fresh heat.

He wanted her.

He had claimed her.

But that was crazy. Absurd. She shifted yet again, her tongue sticking to the roof of her mouth. Maybe he was the one. The one who would give her the experience, allowing her to go to this wedding of hers as a woman of the world rather than a sheltered woman.

She had been waiting for the right man, wanting a sophisticated, intelligent partner, one that would make a satisfying lover. But she'd been too picky, too picky, and she was out of time. If she wanted to do this, she would have to act fast. The mechanics of sex were clear, but the intimacy, the naked body on naked body unnerved her.

She struggled to find words, to put together a coherent sentence, one that she could actually speak out loud, but her mouth was so dry, her throat felt scratchy and she lifted the flute, took a sop of the tart sweet champagne.

"So, what am I doing here?" she asked faintly, clutching the stem of the flute. "What am I doing sitting with you?"

His eyes never left her mouth. "Answering your curiosity, I imagine."

He had the most piercing gaze, a gaze that made her feel young and inexperienced, a gaze that made her want to find a big comfy sweatshirt and pull it over her head, hiding her hips and breasts…

For a moment, she forgot what they were discussing, or where they were. For a moment, she couldn't think, too swamped by the sudden heat in her veins and the slow, heavy pounding of her heart. For a moment, there was no one else. No one in the club. No one but the two of them. And looking at him, she was lost. There was this Robert in front of her, with blue eyes that held her fast, that let her know what he wanted, and he wanted her, body and soul.

"I do have an insatiable curiosity." Regina said.

His mouth smirked, a curving that revealed the full sensuality of his lower lip. "And you're curious about me?"

She nodded. She couldn't speak at the moment.

His gaze shifted from her face to her tightly close fist. "Can I offer you a bit of advice?"

Again, she nodded.

"You need to be more careful."

Icy heat shivered up and down Regina's spine. This is dangerous, a little voice whispered inside her head. "But I am careful."

"There are a lot of men who would take advantage of your curious nature." Robin added.

Immediately blood surged through her, flooding her face, melting the bones of her hips and knees. Embarrassed, she looked away, breaking his intense hold.

Robert knocked her off balance, and her brain was no longer in gear, her body too alive. She was finding it harder and harder to thick clearly. It would be bad to marry a man she didn't know, a man who didn't care to know her either, a man who she wouldn't even recognize on the street, but to marry such a man without knowing anything about sex?

And that was the real issue. She didn't want to walk down the aisle as a virgin. Prince Robin Locksley didn't have to have a virgin bride. He didn't need her virginity.

And her life she wanted to be...Bold. Confident. Brazen. Instead she wasn't. Proud. Shy. Rather reserved.

But shyness didn't excuse ignorance, and she absolutely refused to go to bed with a man, even her husband, without knowing anything. She couldn't bear to think that in a few weeks she'd strip off her wedding gown and climb into bed with a husband she'd only just met and lie there naked and wait for him to touch her.

There was no way she wanted to feel foolish on her wedding night. There was no way she wanted to be intimidated. Far better to know what to expect. To understand the sequence of events…the sensation, the emotion.

And again, the thought hit her, Robert could teach her. She was a fast learner. She really only needed just one night.

She quickly took her flute, and drowned the rest of her champagne. "I should eat something the bubbles are going straight to my head."

"You haven't had dinner yet?" Robin asked.

"No, I think I'm still suffering from some jet lag." Regina answered.

There was the briefest hesitation before Robin reached into his wallet, drew out a couple hundred-euro bills and left them on the table. "If we leave now, we could make it to Amabile's before they close."

Amabile's, the famous Amabile's where food was fabulous and the atmosphere perfect, was just a few blocks over. "You're inviting me to dinner?"

His blue eyes met hers. "You wanted me to."

True. No point in arguing that.

Regina swallowed, her throat scratchy, dry, rough from the champagne. "Let me go change."

A few minutes later Regina returned, after having changed into jeans and a gauzy cream blouse. In her jeans and peasant style blouse she looked even younger than before. And just like that Robin felt his gut tighten, his body jerking to life, his groin hard, his temper nearly as hot. Nothing, he thought with a flash of painful insight, would even be the same for either of them again.

As she neared him, his eyes met hers, and she felt a funny rush in her middle.

"Do you know what you're doing Regina?" Robin asked her.

The air bottled in her lungs and she felt her legs wobble. Then she deliberately exhaled and forced a smile. "I certainly hope so."

They left the club, stepping out into the warm night and Regina drew in a deep breath, immediately relaxed. After a few seconds, she let out a deep sigh.

"That's the second heavy sigh." Robin said, before abruptly shoving his arm out in front of her, stopping her at the curb. A taxi whizzed by, virtually flying through the intersection, bumping over the corner's cobblestones.

Regina shuddered inwardly as Robins arm pressed against her chest, the sleeve of his elegant suit rubbing at the thin cotton of her blouse.

"I was thinking…" she said, pushing away from the arm, discomfited with the gesture. He had put his arm out as if she were an impulsive child.

His arm dropped. He gazed down at her, brows furrowed. "You're reckless."

"I'm not. I know what I'm doing."

"Even when you're in danger?"

"I'm not in danger."

He shook his head in mute frustration. "How do you know? How do you know I'm not dangerous?"

A tremor shot through her. Good question, she thought. She didn't.

Or did she?

She stared up at him, brow creased, studying his hard features. All right. He did scare her. But he didn't strike her as violent. Controlling yes, but cruel, no. "You wouldn't hurt me," she said at last, burying her hands in her jeans pockets. "You're not that kind of a man."

He muttered something under his breath, but she did catch a few choice swear words along with a very cryptic. "You don't know."

They were walking again, when finally Amabile's came into view.

Robin held the door open for Regina and as she moved past him she felt a current of awareness shoot through her, her body prickling from head to toe, her skin painfully sensitive.

A hostess seated them, the restaurant was beautiful. They both ordered their food and a Crab Bisque arrived quickly and Regina who'd thought she was hungry, could barely get her spoon to her mouth. It was one thing to find a man heart-stoppingly attractive, it was another to eat sitting across from him.

Robin noticed she'd barely touched her soup. His gaze rested on her face. "You don't prefer it?"

Oh, there went the butterflies in her stomach again. When he looked at her like that, so directly, so intently, she felt as if she were lost. Completely. Totally.

"I do. It's delicious." Regina said, forcing the spoon up to her lips and choking the mouthful down.

But she had his full attention now and the next sip was even harder than the last.

"So, what's wrong?"

"How old are you?" Regina asked suddenly, setting her spoon down.

"Twenty-nine."

He was a few years older than her. "When's your birthday?"

"May 4th.

A month ago today. She smiled faintly, thinking that his birth date explained a lot. "You're a Taurus."

"A Taurus?"

"You know…astrology, the sun signs."

He gestured dismissively. "I don't follow any of that."

The gesture, coupled with his patronizing tone, rankled her. On one hand, he was a gorgeous male, but on the other he was hopelessly arrogant. "You don't have to follow anything. It is what it is. It exists even if you don't believe in it."

"But you do?" Robin persisted, indicating to the waiter that the soup dishes could be cleared.

"It's fun."

Robin's jaw flexed and Regina felt a tingly shiver run through her. Robin didn't approve.

"It's ridiculous."

She blinked, trying to clear the haze of red before her eyes. "How can you say that?"

"It's my belief." Robin defended.

"So, there are obvious things you don't like about me. Is there anything that you do?"

Robin felt his body respond at the provocative question, and leaning back in his chair he took in her small taunting smile, the cool anger in her dark eyes. "Your eyes," he said bluntly. She had beautiful eyes, the lashes so thick and long.

"Your hair." His gaze touched her hair, the incredible length, the rich color. He'd love to tangle his hands in her hair, feel the glossy weight.

"Your mouth," he added, staring at her mouth and watching her bite her lower lip, chewing on the tender skin. Her lips were full, soft and painted a pale pinky beige. Her lips were the color of skin, making him think nude, naked, sex.

He watched her chew on that soft lower lip and felt the silence between them lengthen, felt the tension mount.

She was squirming from the tension. He saw the desire in the darkening of her eyes, the flush in her cheeks, her restlessness at the table.

Would she go to bed with him? Would she sleep with him, a stranger, only a short time before her wedding? "Your body." He felt harsh, cruel, but he needed information. There was so much he didn't know, so much about her he didn't understand.

"And that's all you like about me?" Regina asked, her voice faint, almost tremulous, in the rich dining room. "Lips, hair, body?"

His chest grew tight, his groin hot and hard. Things were getting complicated. How much did he say? How much did he give away?

He knew his silence hurt her. He saw her smooth throat work, saw her hand tremble as she sorted out her silverware on the linen tablecloth. She was fighting for control, fighting to be calm. And yet he remained silent, thinking, weighing, deliberating. He sorted through his actions, reactions, examined his motivations.

If he told her who he really was, she would change before his eyes. She knew she would hide herself from him. He wanted to know her. Wanted the good, the bad, and the ugly.

It was truth he needed now. Truth to cut through the lies and pretense. Truth so he would know whom he would be marrying.

Or if he should even marry her.

But the question of marriage, of suitability of marriage, did nothing to dampen his hunger. He wanted her. His body ached. His trousers cut into him.

She was supposed to be innocent.

He was supposed to be the good prince.

Tragically, nothing was as it should be.

"No," Robin said softly, eyes holding her, eyes taking her, eyes letting her know what he'd do given the opportunity. "I don't just want your body. I want your mind, too. All of you."

Regina jerked at the rawness of Robin's answer. He had a decisive voice, and when he said he wanted her, not just her body, but also her mind, all of her, she felt as if he had launched an assault…..

Crossbows, battleaxes, and all.

Mouth dry, she stared across from him. And looking into his eyes was yet another mistake of all mistakes. She'd never looked this closely into a man's face before like this, never let herself look so intimately into someone's eyes, it was so intimate on another level.

His eyes were cool, warm, intelligent, brilliant.

She felt her lips nearly curve in appreciation, and then small muscles creased at the corner of his eyes and she felt all air leave her body. The table was too small. They were sitting far too close. Robert was too big.

The goosebumps returned, this time covering every inch of skin, tightening even her breasts, causing her nipples to peak against the soft contour of her silk bra. It was a strange response, and such a strong one, too.

Robin shifted and his knee brushed hers beneath the table. Regina gasped at the sharp heat shooting through her. Beneath the table, she pressed her knees together, pressing the muscles of her inner thighs tight, trying to deny the flood of want.

The flood of need.

He'd turned her on from the very first look, and now she was melting on the inside, melting because of him. Just one touch and she tensed, body hot, aching. Damp.

Glancing up she met Robin's gaze once again. His features were still beautiful but not quite so hard and she didn't know if it was the hidden warmth in his eyes or the fact that his mouth had gentled, accenting his chin, flat across the bottom with a hint of a cleft, but she wanted to kiss him. Felt almost desperate to feel his mouth against hers.

There was so much she didn't know. So much she wanted to understand. Like how a man's lips could stir her imagination and how his breath could feel blowing lightly, tormenting against her skin, how his lips would feel on her…..

"You want my mind?" Regina whispered, thinking, wishing it were so. No one had ever wanted her mind. No one had ever wanted to know her.

"Is that such a bad thing?" Robin asked.

She couldn't help it. She felt her lips curve up, into a wide rueful smile. "They say the best sex starts with the brain."

Robin smiled, but it was different than hers. It wasn't a warm smile, or wry or remotely rueful. No, his smile wasn't one of amusement. Instead he looked as if he were about to declare war.

Regina went weak in the middle, and the weakness seeped through her limbs. Thank God she was sitting otherwise she would have come crashing down. Robin's smile faded. "Indeed. The brain is the primary sexual organ. Engage the brain for the ultimate pleasure."

She blushed, not just from his words, but the intentness of his gaze. She felt even more aware of him than before. Her heart hammered harder. Her mouth went dry. Muscles clenched deep inside of her. Regina felt so hot, so wound up. In all her years, she had never felt anything close to this. The sensations were surging through her, the emotions rocking her, weren't gentle, weren't playful, weren't fun.

This was sexual. Brutal.

Fire and ice, she whispered. This is what you thought you wanted….

"You look thirsty," Robin said. His expression lazy, blatantly sexual, leaning forward to fill her wineglass.

She felt fingers of sexual warmth, creeping through her whole being. She was thirsty, she thought. But then, she'd been thirsty for years, thirsty for everything she'd never done, thirsty for experience and wisdom, thirsty for knowledge, thirsty for insight, thirsty to be more Regina.

Her glass filled, Robin sat back. "Drink."

"I don't think I can." Regina said. She honestly didn't think she could eat or drink anything if she tried.

"Why not?"

"Too much adrenaline."

Robin thought she'd been beautiful before, but nothing was as sexy as listening to her speak, watching her mouth curve, hearing the words 'too much adrenaline' in that smoky voice of hers, a voice shaded with dreams and blues.

He understood adrenaline. At one point in his life he'd lived from one adrenaline surge to another, needing huge physical challenges to focus his endless energy, his restlessness haunting him, chasing him around the globe. But there was something about her, and her admission of nerves and adrenaline that touched him.

"What's bothering you?" he asked, filling his own glass.

"You."

He looked up in time to see her dark eyes flash. "I'm not."

"You are." She inhaled in a rush. More nerves, he thought.

"You're not like most men that I know," she added and she touched the tip of her tongue to her upper lip.

Robin's gut felt as hard as his groin. He gritted his teeth, thinking he'd have to peel his skin off in a minute if his body didn't cool down. "And what are those other men like?"

"Charming. Easygoing. Harmless."

"Boring."

Regina laughed. "You're impossible."

"Perhaps." He suddenly reached out, lightly touched her cheek. Her skin was warm, soft and her head jerked up, eyes wide, wary. "You have a beautiful laugh. You should laugh more."

Regina blushed, looked away, realized dinner was on the way. The waitress presented the plates with a flourish and left them alone to eat. And Regina realized she wasn't as nervous as she'd been before. Robert's mood seemed lighter as well, his gaze was warmer, less shuttered, and she continued to relax, enjoying her entrée, giving in to the pleasure of a well-cooked meal.

She found out Robert lived here in Germany, he worked for a law firm. He also spent some of his time with his mother's family in England. She liked the sound of his voice, the strength in his voice and she knew she was smiling as she listened to him speak, resting on his face, her body leaning ever so slightly forward, her legs crossed beneath the table.

After they finished their meals, Robin stared at her long and hard, his brows furrowed and then he muttered something intelligible beneath his breath. He stood abruptly, reached for his wallet. "It's time we go."

Regina followed after him, she kept glancing at him as they walked, tried to read his expression, but it was dark, his profile granite hard, and all she felt coming off of him was waves of anger.

"Robert?" she asked uncertainly.

"What?"

"Where…" She swallowed, gathering her courage. It wasn't as if the hadn't just spent a few hours together. "Where are we going?"

He stopped abruptly beneath a street lamp, turned, and faced her. "Where do you think we're going?"

She shook her head. She didn't understand the look she saw in his eye. At the moment, she didn't understand anything.

There was a long moment of silence, a moment where she saw frustration in his eyes, an emotion that held anger as well as passion. Then he backed her into a dark alcove, the large arched doorway a former carriage entrance.

"We've had drinks."

"Yes."

"We've had dinner."

He leaned forward, one arm moved above her head, bracing himself against the door. "We've had coffee. Dessert. Now you have to tell me what you want to happen next."

Regina locked her knees. Fear mingled with desire. "I don't know."

"Yes, you do."

Robert made her feel awash in emotion, and ever since she met him she was swinging like a pendulum from one emotion to another. She was swinging even now and the sense of momentum, the feeling of being in perpetual motion, in perpetual flux, unnerved her more than she could say. She was so wound up, frazzled by a need she couldn't answer.

But he could.

He could quiet the humming in her veins. He could put out the fire that was burning inside of her.

She felt him come closer, his head bending down. She held her breath, certain he would kiss her. She wanted air but she didn't dare breathe. Robin's eyes locked with her, his expression intense. "Tell me."

She opened her mouth, stole a breath, and yet her pulse was slowing, desire, anticipation, washing through her in endless waves. His thumb dropped to her mouth. Lightly he brushed the part of his thumb across her lips. Pinpricks of light exploded inside of her head. Hot sensation rocketed through her and she tensed, her hands, arms, legs, everything.

She wanted, wanted, wanted him. She didn't even know where to begin, what to ask for. The hunger, the need, was alive inside her and she knew nothing could happen here, in this dark alcove, nothing would happen. Robert Wesley didn't strike her as a man who'd take a woman on a city sidewalk. She reached up to touch the collar of his shirt, too afraid to touch his skin and yet needing contact, needing to connect. "We go…"

"Yes?" His thumb was drawing circles on her swollen lower lip. The circles were slowing driving her mad with need.

She closed her eyes, tried to clear her brain. "We go to your-"

"My?" Robin asked.

"Hotel-" She'd said what he had wanted to hear her say. His head dropped. He silenced the rest with a kiss. His lips were firm, his breath cool and she stiffened with surprise. She'd kissed before, felt rather proficient in terms of kissing but this wasn't a mere kiss, this was like nothing she'd ever experienced before.

His lips moved across hers, deliberately, thoroughly, a sensual exploration intended to stir her, wake every little nerve ending to life and he succeeded. Too well. Her lower lip quivered, tingled and the tingle shot all the way through her, straight to her belly, which felt hot and tight with need.

But that was only the beginning. His mouth drew the heat from hers and the slow exploration flared into something fierce, demanding. His hard body pressed against hers, his thighs moved between hers and she felt trapped, skewered, the very way he'd trapped her in his gaze earlier, but this time it was with his body. She felt the hard planes of his chest crush her breasts, the sinewy shape of his thigh between her own and she groaned as he moved against her, his knee up, between her thighs, creating friction, sensation.

Want.

Her groan was like tossing gasoline on a raging fire.

Robert's hands moved from the wall to her head, his palms sliding through her hair, fingers tightening in her long hair, holding her captive. His desire was raw. His hunger stunned her. He was so not like anything she understood, so beyond anything she could control, and yet she wanted it all, the passion, the fury, the shiver of fraught nerves. All the while her body was melting, her defenses negligent. She'd known from the beginning she couldn't resist him. She'd known from the very first glance that she'd be his.

She felt one of Robert's hands drop from her hair, to her cheek and her jawbone before sliding down the length of her neck. The path his hand took was as tortuous as it was delicious and Regina arched helplessly against Robin's body, her hips meeting his, her head tipping, exposing more, more skin. She felt Robin's fingertips graze her collarbone, stroke the swell of her breast. Shivery pleasure danced through her. Her lips parted, gasped, as his hand moved beneath the thin blouse to find her hot bare skin. It was her soft indrawn take of air that finally penetrated Robin's brain. He was undressing her here, virtually making love to her here, on the street, in a gloomy alcove littered with the day's trash.

What the hell was he thinking?

Drawing back, Robin raked a hand through his hair, trying to quiet the chaos in his body and brain. But it was hard organizing his thoughts, much less organizing himself. He hadn't lost it like that in years.

"What's wrong?' Regina asked tentatively, her face dappled to shadows.

She had a smoky voice, a sexy voice, and yet it seemed so incongruous with her wide dark eyes. She seemed so young still, such a girl, and he felt a rise of protective instinct. Where the hell was someone to watch over her? Where was those who could help her? Guide her?

"What are you doing?" Robin asked, unable to resist stroking the curve of her cheekbone, her skin irresistibly soft, warm.

"You know the saying, Robert. Girls just want to have fun." Regina said.

It was true and not true, Regina thought as he stared down into her eyes. She wanted a man who craved her. A man who wasn't willing to wait years for her, but had to have her, wanted to be with her as much as she wanted to be with him.

"Fun." Robin echoed softly and his voice dropped, deep, low, husky and the word hung there between them so sexual, so seductive that it didn't mean anything remotely fun, but had become a challenge instead.

Suddenly his hand tangled in her long dark hair, his palm wrapping around his fist, once, twice, and with her face forced up, his head descended, his lips against covering hers. The touch of his mouth stunned her, the touch, the pressure so different from before. She twitched, unnerved, her lips parting in surprise and immediately his lips formed against her parted mouth, his breath warm, the tip of his tongue just barely brushing the inside of her lower lip.

Regina jerked, muscles tightening, shuddering and she felt like a papier-mache puppet on strings. It was the strangest response nerves, muscles popping, but she couldn't help the hot sharp currents surging through her, or the sudden weakness flooding her limbs, her knees, legs, body dissolving, turning to mush.

Her hands rose, pressed against his chest, struggling to balance herself and somewhere in the back of her brain she thought his chest fell unbelievable hard, smooth, thickly, muscled. His body felt the way she'd always imagined a man's body to feel and yet the hand in her hair was no nice guy's touch, but the touch of a possessive man, a sexual man, a man that no problem marking a woman as his.

This is just one night, she told herself. One time. Once is all, she promised.

Robin broke the silence. "How's that for fun?" he asked, his voice deep, grating against her nerves.

She couldn't answer. Her head and senses swam. She'd felt brave during dinner, so brave she'd been numb, but the numbness was gone and all the fears came rushing back, swamping her.

"Changed your mind?" Robin asked softly, and she heard the soft taunt in his voice.

Regina lifted her chin, felt her mouth tremble into a smile. "No, I haven't seen the inside of your hotel room yet."

Regina really was going to do this. Robin allowed the door to his hotel suite at the Breidenbacher Hof, to swing closed and watched Regina enter the suite's living room.

The lights were dim, housekeeping had visited since he'd left tidying the suite, turning down the coverlet on his bed, plumping pillows, but Regina looked calm, nonchalant even as she was wandering about the living room.

He couldn't bear to think she did this sort of thing often. He wanted to believe that she wasn't promiscuous, or a party girl, but they'd only just met tonight and yet here she was, alone with him in a hotel room at two in the morning.

Yes, he'd invited her here, deliberately tempted her, and it was a test. He was setting her up, testing her values, her morals, and it might not be right, but it was necessary. He had to know. Did fidelity, loyalty mean nothing? If she tumbled into bed with him, how many other men was she sleeping with? And if she wasn't faithful before the wedding, why should he believe she'd be faithful after?

He wanted her. That was the worst insult of all. He didn't understand how he could feel this kind of anger and betrayal, and yet still be so physical drawn to her. He shouldn't want her. Shouldn't desire her. She wasn't who she was supposed to be. He saw the flicker of emotion in her dark eyes, as he approached her. She was afraid, he thought, and his chest tightened. He didn't want her afraid, but he didn't want her behaving stupidly, either. Life was difficult, demanding, even cruel, and trust was even harder to come by.

Placing his hands on her shoulders, Robin fought his own conflicting emotions, torn between throwing her out and tossing her onto the bed. He wanted to hold her, touch her, and yet he also knew that there was no future for them. That she was the last woman he could marry. He needed a wife he could depend on, a woman he could trust.

How could he trust her, when she went to the hotel room a stranger the first night?

"How far do you intend to take this?" Robin asked.

"You said earlier, you wanted my body, and my mind?" Regina asked.

"Yes." Robin answered.

"I want it all from you." Regina said.

"Just so you know, what happening here isn't about love, it's sex. But I think you know that. And I think it's sex you want." Robin said.

Sex with Robert. Sex because she wanted to know more, wanted to have an experience that was hers, and hers alone…sex because it was her choice, her own choice, and probably the last thing that would ever be her choice.

"If you're hoping for more," he added, "you're not-"

"I understand," she cut him off.

His lashes had dropped, his expression concealed. "You don't have to stay."

"I want to." Regina said.

His hands moved to her lower back, and he drew her even closer. "Cold?" he asked, as she shuddered at his touch.

"No." She felt the heat of his body as well as the power of his thighs and hips. He felt hard, aroused, and the ridge in his trousers pushed against her flat belly.

His head dropped, his face close to hers, capturing the warmth of her skin, the flutter of her breath, before his lips touched hers slowly. It was a light caress and yet there was something fierce behind it, something so hot, so dangerous that she turned her head away, afraid of the flare of heat.

His hand slid up her back, beneath her hair to cup her nape. She tingled every place his hand had touched. "Your heart's racing," he said as she buried her face against his shirt, drinking in the smell of him, so sensitive to his warmth, his strength, the very texture of his skin.

"You have that effect on me."

He tipped her head back, stared into her eyes. "I bet you say that to all the men."

"No." She reached up to touch his face. He jerked at her light touch but didn't pull away.

Slowly she trailed her fingertips from his chin, flat across the bottom with just a hint of a cleft, to the strong sweep of jaw. She wanted to know the shape of his face, the lines in his cheekbone and chin, the fragrance that was part skin, part cologne.

He captured her lips once more. Oh, how she liked the feel of his mouth against her, like the smell of him and pressure. Teasing, she thought, eyes closing, he was teasing her with that warm fleeing touch. It was the perfect seductive kiss, like breathing the aroma of a fine red wine before actually sipping wakening the senses, stirring the imagination. The tantalizing pressure of his lips seemed to say a kiss wasn't just a kiss, it was pleasure itself. Then he deepened the kiss, one hand rising to cup her cheek, his thumb stroking near her mouth and hot sensation flooded her limbs, sending rivulets of feeling everywhere. She was melting on the inside even as her breasts ached, her nipples peaking, incredible sensitive.

Her response stirred him, and heat flared, hot, raw and the kiss changed. No longer tentative, or teasing, Robin's lips were firm, demanding, taking, tasting. He teased the upper bow of her lip with his tongue and when her lips parted beneath his, he traced the shape of her mouth, the delicate skin inside her lower lip, and then her cheek, the tip of her tongue, saying without words that he would have her and enjoy her but it'd be strictly on his terms.

His hand slid from her cheek, down her neck, over her collarbone to cup her breast. Regina shuddered at the brush of his fingertips over her nipple. He caressed her again and her belly clenched, tight, hot, aching. His hand slipped beneath her blouse, his palm warm on her bare abdomen, fingers light against her narrow rib cage.

When he lifted the edge of the silk of her bra cup, his warm skin against her warmer breast, Regina took a strangled breath and thought for sure she'd melt, dissolving into pure endless need. No one had ever touched her like this. She could imagine his hands on her body, on her hips, between her thighs. It might hurt, she thought, heart pounding but then it might not.

Robin next was pushing her backward, setting her firmly down on the edge of the bed. Dizzily she braced herself, her head spinning, her hands braced on either side of her hips. Robin stood above her, tall, silent, considering, the electricity between them tangible. She saw the dark flush in his cheekbones, the storm of passion in his blue eyes. He was breathing deep, his chest filling, rising, and his lips pressed hard.

He leaned forward, wrapped his hand in her hair, lifted her face to his and kissed her hard, a searing kiss, open mouth, a kiss of tongues, a kiss where he took her breath a total possession of her. It was as if he was opening her, rendering her vulnerable, rendering her his. And as his tongue swept her mouth, probed her mouth, making her want to hold his tongue in her mouth, capturing the fierce rhythmic thrusts that made her belly clench and clench again. The kiss made her think of his hard body on hers, in hers, and heat flooded her womb, sent blood to all the places already far too sensitive. Fingers still tangled in her hair, he turned his head, ending the kiss. "Take off your clothes." He commanded hoarsely, the bristles of his stubble rough against her jaw, his warm breath tickling her skin.

The command, so hard, so direct sent flickers of feeling everywhere. Regina shivered and clutched at the silk coverlet on the bed. "Now?" she choked. He'd straightened and he stood over her, warrior-like, and his blue eyes stripped her naked. "Yes. Unless you've changed your mind and wish to leave."

She wanted this. Wanted to know about power and possession.

Heart thudding, she reached for the strings of her blouse where it was tied in the small of her back. She felt his gaze, felt his intense concentration. Her hands shook as she fiddled with the knot, struggling to undo it. Hands damp, she finally got the knot undone and ties loosened, she reached for the hem of her blouse and drew it up over her head and set it on the bed next to her.

He said nothing.

He did nothing.

Regina blushed, feeling foolish in her jeans and push up bra. The jeans, she told herself. And standing, nearly bumping into Robin, she unfastened the snap, undid the zipper and breathing shallowly, air hard to come by, she pushed the jeans down over her hips, down her legs until she stepped out of those. The jeans joined the blouse on the foot of the bed. She was now wearing very simple white silk underwear, white silk panties, the white silk push up bra.

Pulse racing, Regina reached behind her back and struggled to unhook her silk bra, peeling the delicate fabric from her shoulders and breasts. Her hands shook and yet defiantly she lifted her chin, looked into Robin's eyes. Eyes blazing, expression shuttered, Robin joined her on the bed. She held her breath as he moved forward, straddling her legs, his knees outside her own. He wasn't even touching her yet, but she felt the warmth of him anyway.

She closed her eyes as his hands settled on her thighs, the pressure from his hands firm. Compelling. She wasn't going anywhere.

"So," he said, hands sliding ever so slowly up the length of her thighs sending rivers of feeling everywhere. "I take it you're protected."

"I have a condom in my purse." Regina answered.

"You carry your own?" Robin demanded.

No, actually, she hadn't until tonight. But tonight, she'd grabbed one from the dispenser in the women's bathroom at the club.

"I thought I should, um take precautions." Regina said.

"As you should," Robin said, leaning forward to grab a leather satchel from the night table. He opened the leather bag, a man's shaving kit with all the gear one would expect before locating a foil pouch. "But I do have my own."

He set the foil packet on the bed, next to her shoulder, and leaning over her kissed her shoulder. Her nipples peaked, breasts aching. She felt so bare, and yet he was in no hurry to touch her. His lips now were trailing down her neck, slowly, very slowly until his mouth rested on her collarbone. "Undress me."

His voice vibrated against her skin, sending shock waves through her. "Undress you?"

"Yes."

Leaning closer, she breathed in scent of his cologne, the deep woodsy spice, concentrated on the seductive heat of his body. Ignoring the trembling of her hands, she focused her line of sight on the very first button on his shirt. Determined, she undid the button and then moved to the next.

Before she knew it, they were both naked and she was lying beneath him. She felt a little foolish, and very inexperienced as he reached out and stroked his hand down her body, from her breast to her hip. Regina shivered, nipples peaking.

His hands cupped her breasts, palms grazing across her taut nipples and then down to shape her ribs, her waist, her hips. He had a great sense of touch, a way of making her feel soft and hot in all the right places. And when his mouth touched the hollow of her neck she gasped, reached for him, let her arms curl around his shoulders. She loved the feel of his body, the hard smooth tension beneath his skin and her fingers gripped the thick muscles of his upper arms as his mouth alternately kisses and bit across her own shoulder and collarbone. She hadn't imagined she could feel anything there, but his teeth and tongue found hundreds of nerve endings that were begging to be stroked and licked and nipped.

With his hands moving across her thighs, between her thighs and his mouth drawing trails of fire across her breast she felt wild with need. Helplessly, she arched up against him, pressing herself closer, wanting more, wanting the terrible ache inside of her answered.

She sighed as his lips closed around one swollen nipple, sighed again as he parted her thighs with his knee, making room for him. The air felt cool against her skin, she felt so open as he shifted his weight, one leg and then another moving between her knees. She shuddered as he lifted his head, looked down on her, looked to see her spread out before him.

He shifted, leaned up over her, his hips lowering against her pelvis. The insistent press of his erection took her breath away, the rigid length between them, hard and hot against her tummy.

"I want you," she said, gathering her courage.

"I'm here."

"Not inside me yet."

And then suddenly he was there, hard against her tender skin, his big body pushing forward. She was warm, slick, but he didn't enter her easily, her body tensing. Regina felt his hand move between them, touch her, touch her readiness before he took his shaft in his hand, rubbed the tip across her delicate folds, stroking her up and down, once, twice, and she responded instinctively, opening her legs wider, hands moving to Robin's hips. He stroked his shaft across her once more and as she lifted her hips for him she felt him slide into her, an inch or two and her mouth opened in surprise, stunned by the stretch, the sting of pain.

He pressed harder, deeper and again she felt him pull and stretch her. Was this how it felt for everyone? Did it always hurt like this? Fighting panic, Regina took a deep breath, exhaled, tried to relax. And as she told herself to relax, this was normal, he was just breaking through the hymen, she felt him thrust forward hard. Harder than she'd expected. Hard enough her eyes smarted, tears suddenly welling.

She must have made a sound because he stopped moving, lifted his head to look down at her. "Did I hurt you?"

She was trying to get used to his size, trying to accept the feel of him. "You're big."

"Should I stop?"

"No." She pressed her hands to the hollow of his back, her fingers clenched into small, frightened fists. It actually hurt more than she'd expected, and maybe she should have said something to him, let him know she didn't have experience.

"I won't move until it stops hurting," he said, his head dipping to kiss her gently. "Your body just needs to get used to mine."

This was a kiss, she thought, head spinning, body rippling with delicious sensations and then she shifted beneath Robin and found that the painful sensation had lessened and instead she felt just oddly full, flushed, sensitive.

He started to move, small thrusts of his hips and she felt a ripple of sensation unlike the other sensations, this one a whisper of excitement, a flutter of delicious pleasure. She took a breath, shifted, lifting her hips to see if she could feel it again and he thrust harder, deeper and the pleasure returned, stronger, brighter, like strokes of cobalt-blue against white, color exploding in her mind's eye. And Robin took the lead, thrusting deeply withdrawing to thrust again and the pleasure of it dazzled her. He touched her body in so many places and so many ways but it wasn't what she thought sex would feel like. It was a thousand times better.

Her pulse had quickened, her skin felt hot, and as he drove into her she began to tighten on the inside, trying to grip him, hold him, keep him with her but he couldn't let her hold him, wouldn't let her stop him and the friction built, hotter until hot muscles were tightening, tensing on their own, a fierce white-hot heat growing, threatening to explode.

"I can't-"

"Let it go, he answered in her ear, and she shook her head not certain what to do, or how to do it.

"Let it go, trust me, Regina." He repeated, his hips rocking deep, rocking her, keeping her from escaping the delicious torment and just when she didn't think she could hold on, hold back, her body went, a stinging flicker bursting into flame. She shuddered helplessly, beneath him, her body gripping his tightly, so tightly, her muscles ripping to life.

She felt his hands bury into her hair, felt his lips brush hers and he groaned her name before arching, tensing, and she felt him let go inside of her. Later, she stirred, realized he was still with her, in her, and she felt his gaze, felt him watching her.

"What are you doing?" Regina asked, stretching a little.

"Looking at you." Robin answered.

"Why?"

"You're stunning."

She smiled shyly and he dropped a kiss on her lips before pulling away. He left the bed momentarily, headed for the bathroom and Regina reached for the bedcovers and then realized when Robin reappeared from the bathroom that he'd merely disposed of the condom.

He climbed back into the bed, pulled her back into his arms and seconds later they were both asleep.

Regina woke up early the next morning, she dressed quickly in the bathroom, careful not to wake Robin. Once she was ready to leave, she looked at Robin on the bed. He was asleep, one muscular arm above his head, his face turned into the crook of his arm. She watched him for a moment, trying to take it all in, wanting to remember the details, the size of him, the shape, the way he seemed to fill not just the bed, but the room.

Remembering the way he had filled…her.

She knew she'd never see him again. And yet she also knew he wasn't a man she'd ever forget. She pinned a quick note for him then, she walked over to the bed, and leaned down lightly kissed the side of his face, then she quickly left the room. She was going home now, home to her family and the man her family wanted her to marry.

Robin knew Regina was gone the moment he opened his eyes. He hadn't meant to sleep with her. Livid with himself, Robin threw back the duvet, swung his legs out, and spotting a scrap of white lace, Regina's panties, between the sheets, he reached down to retrieve them. He froze.

There was the faint red stain on the bottom sheet. She couldn't have been a virgin. Even if she was, why would she want to loose her virginity just weeks before her wedding? He remembered when he had first entered her, that she had been tight, narrow, tense. It'd been difficult entering her, but he'd put it down to nerves, and yet…

There'd been resistance, almost a barrier, and he wondered briefly, very briefly, if she'd never made love before but she'd said nothing, she'd just reached for him, encouraged him and he had gone.

As he stalked the room, he found a note that she had left for him.

Robert, I couldn't have asked for a better first time or a more generous lover. Thank you for everything. You were wonderful.

Fondly, Regina.

He was furious that she had just discarded something like her first time. And thanking him for taking it from her? What if he hadn't found her? What if it had been some other man in bed with her last night?

The questions were at him as he took a shower, continued to eat at him as he brushed his teeth. He needed answers now. No more games. No more hiding from him. He only wanted the truth. He would be flying back to the States to find her.

Regina was coming down the stairs at the summons of her father, she had been home a week since her return from Germany. Regina swallowed as she entered her father's study.

But he wasn't alone.

She knew the other man. For days, she'd tried to erase the memory of Robert Wesley from her mind, tried and failed numerous times. Because here he stood…

But maybe she was imagining all this, maybe it wasn't really Robert. Just someone who reminded her of Robert, as she walked up to her father, saw the guest turn all the way to look at her.

Robert.

It was really him, and he was looking at her, waiting for her to speak, yet she couldn't make a sound.

What was he doing here? And why did he look so angry at her?

"Regina, my darling," Henry Mills said as he hugged his youngest daughter. "And Regina, you must know who this is."

She knew this man, intimately knew this man. Remembered the feel of his mouth on hers, remembered the way he kissed, he touched and she burned hot, burned feverishly. This is why she couldn't marry this Robin Locksley, why she couldn't give herself to another man. She had already given her heart to Robert Wesley.

Not that he looked happy to see her.

"She's beautiful, isn't she?" Henry said, giving her hand a squeeze.

"She is," Robert agreed, but his voice came out rough, raw, and her head jerked up, their gazes locking.

"She's going to be a beautiful bride, in just two weeks." Henry said.

"Daddy," Regina said, flushing. "Please, not now."

"What is it, Regina?" Henry asked.

"I wanted to talk to you and Prince Robin at the same time, but since he's not here-"

"Not here?" Henry asked in confusion. "What are you saying, Regina?"

"That I can't marry Prince Robin," Regina felt so hot and yet she'd begun to shiver in her dress. "I don't have the feelings-"

"Of course, you don't have feelings yet for Robin, you've only just met." Henry said.

"I've never met him, Daddy." Regina denied.

"Regina, he's standing in front of you right now." Henry said.

The room swam. The words floated inside Regina's head. What was her father saying? He couldn't possibly mean…he wasn't intending… Robert wasn't Robin…

"I don't feel very well," Regina said, her legs starting to buckle. "I'm feeling-"

"Faint?" Robert, Robin's voice concluded for her. Robin's voice, Robin's sarcasm.

Robert was her intended husband.

"I'll leave you two alone to get to know one another," Henry said.

As soon as her father left the room, she turned to Robert-Robin. "You knew in Cologne, didn't you?"

"Yes."

He sounded so calm, so controlled and she held his gaze a moment longer, sick, so sick at heart.

He'd known and he'd pretended he hadn't.

He'd seduced her knowing she'd be his wife.

"I trusted you." Her voice was filled with emotion. "I thought…"

Robin arched a brow. "What?"

"I hate you." Regina said.

"You didn't hate me when we were in bed, when I was inside of you." Robin said with a smirk.

"You knew who I was all along?" Regina whispered.

"Yes."

She took a step away, cold panic giving way to an even colder anger. "You lied to me."

"No."

"You said your name was Robert Wesley." Regina said.

"My full name is Robert Wesley Locksley, Robin."

"I'm not marrying you." Regina said.

"Don't be foolish." Robin said.

"You can't make me marry you. This might be an arranged marriage, but it was consensual."

"Just like our sex." Robin said. "Why did you give me your virginity? Why did you want to get rid of it?"

"That's none of your business," Regina said as she headed for the door. Robin closed it before she could leave.

"You're not going anywhere until we resolve this." Robin said.

"Resolve what? That I was more inexperienced than your thought? That I didn't want to be a virgin when I married?" Regina fired back.

"Why didn't you want to be a virgin?" Robin asked.

"You're not, are you?" Regina asked.

"Of course not." Robin answered.

"Exactly." Regina said.

"You don't just sleep with a man, and not tell him this sort of thing." Robin said.

"Obviously I didn't know I needed to make a big announcement. Thanks Robin. I'll know better the next time." Regina said as she moved around him and walked out of the study.

"You won't be a virgin the next time." Robin yelled out after her.

Regina stomped up to her room, she slammed the door behind her. She couldn't believe Robert was Robin. She knew what she had to do, she had to get out of here.

Now!

As Regina started out of her room, she heard a voice behind her. "Why did you leave before I woke?" Robin asked as he walked up to her, tilting her face up to his.

"I told you," she answered.

"In a note."

"I could have left without leaving a note."

"You thanked me for taking your virginity." Robin said.

"I said you were a perfect partner for my first time."

"You're going to pay for that one," Robin said as his head lowered and his mouth covered hers. His kiss scorched her, the anger and emotion burning her, and then the anger dissolved, melting into a passion far hotter, far more dangerous than anger could ever be.

She found that she wanted to be possessed by him. She wanted the hard pressure, the rigid tension, the curve of his lip, the fire in his eyes. He was primal and male, like a lion, he was hot, hard, everything. She pulled away from him. "I'm going out."

"Where to?" Robin asked as he licked his lips, getting another taste of her.

"None of your business." Regina said.

"Regina," Robin said.

"Forget it, you've given me a headache. I'm going to bed." Regina said as she turned and went into the room.

"Have sweet dreams of me, of us." Robin called through the door.

That night, was the last Robin had seen Regina, until she had called him to tell him that she was in the hospital. He was on his way to St. Mary's hospital here in Cologne. He had been frantic these last few months trying to find her, had paid many people to find her. While there had been a few clues of where she was, she had vanished before they could find her.

To have her call him without warning, sent many emotions through him, relief that she was alright even if in the hospital, anger that she had left to begin with, and something else. Something he hadn't known until she had vanished. He had fallen in love with his future wife, her passion for life, her determination, and that fiery spirit of hers. A spirit that he knew would keep him on his toes for years.

He drove into the parking lot, and quickly parked the car. He made his way to her room, people watched him enter, knowing who he was. As he reached Regina's room, he stopped and closed his eyes, knowing he had to make thing right between them. He needed her, not just because he desired her, but because he wanted to be a part of her life, her whole life. He knew that his whole life, his happiness was going to depend on what happened once he entered this room.

He opened the door and walked in quietly to see Regina laying on the hospital bed with the covers around her. "Hello, Regina."

"Robin." She said his name without looking at him.

He pulled one of the chairs to beside the bed and sat down. He wanted to reach for her hand, but he saw how he was rubbing them both as if very nervous about this. "So, are you going to tell me why you left?"

Regina's entire body snapped to attention. She didn't move, but every nerve inside her was focused on the man before her. "You're an ass."

Robin smirked then softly laughed, the husky sound filling her ears. "I am. I won't try to deny that I'm not, but you my love, are someone who matches my fire, flame for flame."

"I won't marry you." Regina said.

"Yes, you can. We were meant for one another," Robin said.

"There's no relationship between us, no engagement, no wedding." Regina said.

"Not yet." Robin said.

"Not ever." Regina said, knowing full well she held a huge secret from him. His heir.

"I've missed you. I've worried about you, not knowing if you were safe, warm. Whether or not I would ever find you, hold you in my arms, make love with you." Robin admitted his fears to her these last few months.

"I had to get away. I was beginning to feel suffocated." Regina said.

"I think you were afraid," Robin said. "I think you were afraid of what you were feeling for me. When you thought I was just an ordinary man, named Robert."

She couldn't breathe, couldn't force the breath into her lungs. Because she knew he was right.

"I'm sorry I tried to control you. I also was afraid, I was afraid I would lose you. Loving you so much filed me with fear." Robin admitted.

Loving you so much…

Loving you…

She closed her eyes against the hot rush of tears. "You love me?"

Fingertips brushed against her cheek, drawing slow gentle strokes so that she tingled from head to toe. "More than I ever thought I could love anyone." He hesitated. "More than I wanted to love anyone."

She couldn't believe that he was saying the words she wanted to hear.

"I've learned a lot since I met you. I've learned that I'm ready for a future with you, ready for the life I want to live with you." Robin said. "But, are you willing to take the chance with me?"

Regina looked into his eyes, saw the truth of his words to her. Knew that she had to confess to everything. "This whole time, I've been reacting to other people's demands, doing what was asked of me, or what was needed of me. You're right when you said why I ran away. I was afraid, afraid that for the first time I could have what was missing. I've spent months hiding. I wanted you to tell me that you loved me. And now that you have done that, I have to tell you that I love you as well. I fell in love with Robert, and you, him have been in my heart since."

"You've made me so happy today. With us being real with one another, admitting everything. Not letting our fears and my arrogance come between us." Robin said. "I couldn't be happier."

"I think you could be happier." Regina said.

"How?" Robin asked.

"You haven't asked why I was in the hospital." Regina said.

"Why are you in the hospital?" Robin asked. "Are you sick?"

"I was cramping a little and my doctor wanted me to come to the hospital to make sure everything was okay with the baby." Regina said,

"Baby? You're pregnant?" Robin asked.

Regina smiled as she pushed the covers back to reveal her baby bump. Robin's eyes filled with tears and he pushed her gown out of the way and leaned down to gently kiss the bump. When he raised his head he looked into her eyes and said, "I love you, forever."

Three years later.

Robin and Regina chased down the stairs of their home in Cologne, after their giggling, determined two-year-old hell bent on freedom.

"Your child has inherited your rebellious ways, Wife," Robin said.

"And your stubbornness, Husband," Regina replied with a smile, slightly out of breath. "I am too far gone for this, Robin." She replied, stopping to lean against the cool wall. Glancing down, she placed a comforting hand over her seven-month pregnancy bump.

Robin checked the end of the hallway, seeing John, his top of security, scoop up little Roland. John grinned knowingly at Robin and head off, leaving a trail of hysterical giggles.

"I fear one day, John will tickle Roland to death." Robin said.

"Silly. Besides, it's good to have a helping hand to help out. And we'll need it when this one makes their appearance." Regina said.

"Are you sure you don't want to reconsider hiring a full-time nanny?" Robin asked. He understood his wife's reluctance, but still he feared that two children would exhaust her.

"Absolutely. For now, anyways. If the times comes, when I feel like one is needed, then we'll reconsider it," Regina said.

"Have I told you how much I love you?" Robin asked.

"Only this morning, and last night, yesterday. And the day before that. And the day before that. And all the days-"

Robin smothered his wife's response with the kind of passion fueled kiss he knew his wife craved more than any of the bizarre food she had desired during this pregnancy. She pulled away from his kiss, leaning her head against the wall, eyeing him with a seriousness he had not seen for some time.

"Robin, I do have to confess something."

Robin stared at her in slight confusion.

"I've been keeping something from you." Regina said.

He waited, knowing that whatever it was, they would get through it, together.

"We're having a little girl."

He leaned down and kissed her belly, where their little princess laid. "I love you, my little one." He then raised back up and leaned in close to his wife's ear and whispered his love for her over and over.

Honesty and love was all they needed and all they ever would from the other.