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Standard disclaimer.
Later that night, Arthur couldn't sleep.
He wandered the length of his bedchamber, thinking about what Gwen had said.
The notion of his happiness, had always been a forbidden area of thought for him, and he had avoided asking himself futile, what-if questions.
Sighing, he glanced outside a window and caught a flash of white in the courtyard. Narrowing his eyes, he took a closer look.
A woman, dressed in a short nightgown, wandered barefoot through the grass.
His lips twitched. Guinevere.
He wondered, if she'd remembered to prop the door to the palace open. If not, she was stuck and would have to pound on the door and alert the guards.
Arthur glanced at his phone.
It would be easy to call a guard to let her in.
He could punch the three-number extension, issue a one-sentence order and return to...ruminating and insomnia.
He swore at the prospect and made a spur-of-the-moment decision.
Gwen sat down on the stone love seat and inhaled a breath of fresh air.
She couldn't bear one more minute, inside the palace. The walls felt as if they were closing in on her.
When she'd laid down on her bed, she'd thought about Andrew and Arthur.
She wasn't worried about Andrew learning, to compensate for his dyslexia. He was already responding to his lessons.
She couldn't, however, help worrying about his future.
He would one day rule, but would he ever be happy? Not if he followed in his father's footsteps.
She frowned.
What a suffocating life Prince Arthur led.
Someone should fix it, she thought, although she had no idea how.
And, of course, it shouldn't be up to her to fix it, it was none of her business. Her only concern, was supposed to be Andrew's academics, but she would have to be a piece of wood, not to respond to Andrew's thirst for adventure.
Even though Prince Arthur appeared disgustingly perfect, she thought and made a face, his sense of honour got to her.
Groaning, she stood, restlessly stomping over the grass.
She'd come outside, to stop thinking about Andrew and Arthur.
Mentally slamming the door on the two princes, she focused on the scent of the flowers.
"The next time you take an evening stroll, you might want to leave the door open," a voice said, from behind her.
Startled, Gwen whirled around, to see Prince Arthur's shadow in the darkness. Her heart hammered in her chest.
"Excuse me?" He walked towards her, wearing a pair of lounging pants and an opened shirt, looking moody, masculine and sexy, in the moonlight.
"The palace doors are locked every night at 9:00 p.m. You would have a tough time getting back in." Thrown off-balance, she gave an uncertain laugh.
"I...uh...guess...this wouldn't be a great time, to ring the royal doorbell, huh?"
She glanced at the door, which was now propped open, then back at Arthur, trying not to stare at his muscular chest.
"Thank you for rescuing me." He gave a slight dip of his head.
"My pleasure." An uncomfortable moment of silence passed. She folded her hands together in front of her.
"I'm not ready to go in yet," she said.
"Neither am I," he replied.
Was he was looking at her, the way a man would look at a woman, if he was interested?
Her heart raced.
That couldn't be, she told herself. It must have been a trick of the moonlight.
She tore her gaze from his and wandered to a nearby tree.
She touched the smooth, cool bark and tried to clear her head.
"Shouldn't you be sleeping?" she asked, and then, "Don't you have at least three appointments tomorrow?"
"Six," he said, walking toward her. "But, I'll trade the fresh air for a few moments of sleep." Her curiosity sprang up like a weed, and she glanced at him.
"Do you ever sleep in?" He paused, then laughed.
"I can't remember the last time I slept late. Maybe college, after I stayed too long at a party. Feels like forever," he said, staring into the distance.
A forbidden urge to touch him sprang out of nowhere.
She'd wanted to several times.
Although he was clearly strong, his isolation bothered her.
"Where did you go to college?"
"Oxford."
"How many wild oats did you sow there?" He lifted his lips in a dangerous smile.
"Not as many as I'd wanted to sow. And you?" Surprise rushed through her.
"Me? Wild oats?" She shook her head. "I didn't have time. I was too busy, trying to keep my head above water, with my studies." He frowned, shaking his head.
"Your résumé said, you graduated cum laude."
"With a lot of thank-you, 'laude,' mixed in," she muttered. "One of the reasons I wanted to teach kids with dyslexia, was because I'm dyslexic."
His eyes widened and he arched his eyebrows.
"Is that so?"
"Yep, it's not on my résumé, but the experience of being dyslexic, probably contributes to my effectiveness, with my students, as much as my education does. I know what it feels like."
"What did it feel like?" he asked in a low voice.
"Horrible," she said. "I hated going to school. I would break out in a sweat, whenever the teacher asked me to read. I spent a lot of time trying to hide my problems. I felt so stupid, and my brother was a perfect student. My parents didn't understand why I wasn't perfect, too."
"What changed things for you?"
"I had a teacher who was very persistent. She would stay after school. to work with me. She told me I was smart. She believed in me, and she made it okay. for me to be different."
"She gave you power," he concluded, being perceptive again.
"Yes, she did," she said, pleased that he understood.
"And that's what you hope to give to Andrew."
"That's what I'll help Andrew find in himself."
She met his gaze, and his mere presence unsettled her.
His unrelenting aura of strength got to her.
Gwen was accustomed to the cubic zirconium version of strength, a superficial display of physical. or financial muscle.
Heaven knew, she'd had to put a brave face on, in a few bad situations herself.
But, she knew that when she looked at Arthur, she was looking at the Hope diamond of strength...the real thing...and she was pretty darn sure, Arthur's power went deeper than his bones.
"You have always known you had power, haven't you?" she asked, her voice sounding husky, to her own ears. He nodded.
"Always known it. But I haven't always understood it. That may take a lifetime."
She saw undercurrents of duty and curiosity, in his blue eyes, and the combination was incredibly appealing to her.
Who was she fooling? The combination was extremely sexy. And it surprised the heck out of her.
"What are you thinking at this very moment?" he asked, his gaze searching hers, as he moved closer.
She instinctively stepped back and found herself against the tree. A sliver of alarm shot through her, and she bit her lip.
"Umm," she began, knowing she definitely needed to hedge, but her mind was too clouded.
She sucked in a quick breath of air and inhaled his clean, masculine scent.
He lifted his hand to touch a strand of her hair.
"Tell me," he softly ordered. He spoke the words with such authority, that she felt compelled to do as be said. But she stopped herself.
"Not in a million years," she whispered. He went completely still.
"Pardon?"
'If you dare,' she read in his gaze. She cleared her throat.
"I'd prefer not to discuss what I'm thinking."
"I'd prefer you tell me," he said, again touching her hair. And just like that, Gwen was having a tough time breathing.
"But it's my brain, so in this one situation, even if you do...I don't." He paused for a long moment.
"In another time, I could've had you thrown in the dungeon for defying me."
"You wouldn't have, even in another time." He lifted an eyebrow.
"I wouldn't?"
"You would have been too creative, to use the dungeon routine. Besides, there are more effective ways of getting someone to talk." His lips tilted in a sexy half-smile.
"Such as?"
"I don't know. Take away my CD's, my baseball games...promise me chocolate-dipped strawberries."
"The passions of Guinevere James, I see."
"Some of them," she said, with a shrug, sinking into his blue gaze. He gave her hair a gentle tug, to get her attention. He clearly didn't know he'd never lost it.
"For a moment," he said, in a voice like velvet, "You looked at me as a man...not as a prince."
Her chest squeezed tight, with an emotion she couldn't name.
Closing her eyes, she tried to take a deep breath, to dispel it.
"Didn't you?" he asked. He only touched a single strand of her hair, but her awareness of him, suffused her. She swallowed hard.
"What if I did?" she retorted, but the breathy sound in her voice, diminished the punch of her words.
"Open your eyes," he told her. She automatically did as he commanded, then frowned.
"You give a lot of orders."
"Downside of the job," he said, not taking his gaze from hers, and then, "I want to kiss you."
Before she could do more than stare in surprise, he slid his hand around her slender body, bringing her flush to him and took her mouth with his.
Her mind still frozen, she felt instinct take over.
Her lips parted beneath the gentle pressure of his, and his soft lips, rubbed against hers, in a slow, seductively exploring manner.
And Gwen sensed, this was a man, who knew how to seduce a woman.
A dozen protests sprang up in her mind, but the rapid hammering of her heart, drowned them out.
His hard chest brushed her breasts, tempting, teasing, and she felt her nipples harden.
In that moment, she tried to grasp for a millimeter of sanity, but it wasn't forthcoming.
The edge of his tongue slid over her upper lip, with just the right amount of pressure, to make her curious about what he would do next.
Pleasure taunted her.
'It's just a kiss.'
'But he's a prince.'
'Not at this moment.'
His low sound of approval, disarmed her.
His heat warmed her.
His mouth aroused her.
He kissed her, as if she was a delicacy...that he wanted to savor.
He slid his tongue over her tender, inner bottom lip, in an invitation she couldn't refuse.
And she caressed him in return, cupping her tongue around his, drawing him more deeply into her mouth.
The kiss went on, evolving into an erotic simulation, of exactly how his body would take hers...how her body would receive his.
Gwen felt her nether regions contract and moisten.
She heard a sensual moan of need, slide through the thick air, and a full moment passed, before she realized, it was she, who'd made the sound.
She wanted...
Another moan escaped.
She needed air.
She needed sanity.
She dragged her mouth from his and lowered her head to his chin.
"Oh, wow...you're not supposed to kiss..." She drew a long breath. "Like that." He tangled his fingers in the back of her hair and skimmed his lips over her forehead.
"How am I supposed to kiss?" She bit her lip, at the desire still coursing through her.
"I dunno. Just not like that."
"How?" he quietly demanded. She shook her head and willed her brain to work.
"Less..." she began, but her thoughts were still scrambled. "More..." She started again. He gave a gentle tug on her hair.
"More what?" She made a sound of frustration.
"More princely," she said, and met his gaze defiantly. Amusement warred with arousal in his eyes.
"What is princely?"
"More restrained," she said, and tugged his hand away from her.
This is one man with whom, she definitely needed all her spark plugs, firing correctly for.
"Less sexy," she firmly said, and waved her hand at him. "You royal types, only have sex for the purpose of procreation. You're not supposed to be sexy."
Arthur gave a roar of laughter, that sent a ripple through her.
The sound was so unrestrained, so full of passion.
He shook his head, and the look in his eyes, sent a thrill, licking over her nerve endings.
"My dear Guinevere, you have a lot to learn about royals. A lot more than protocol."
Stay safe. Stay Blessed.