Thank you for your continued support, kind people.
Standard disclaimer.
Prince Arthur was grinding his teeth so much, his dentist was going to give him hell.
Speaking of hell, where was that dark-haired siren tutor, who had danced with nearly every man at the party, except him?
He surveyed the crowd, nodding absently, at the people in the receiving line, as they filed passed him and Isabella.
Arthur was just as irritated with himself, as he was with Gwen.
Isabella was beautiful, with impeccable manners and a soft-spoken voice. Her posture and carriage were perfect, she clearly understood European men, and she gave the impression, she would be an undemanding mate.
She was exactly what he'd wanted…one month ago.
It was the party, he told himself.
His entire point of view would change, when he had time alone with her tomorrow. She was right for him.
He nodded at another well-wisher in the receiving line, and suddenly, he saw his son before him.
"Andrew?" he said in surprise. Andrew bowed.
"Hello, Father. Good evening, Madam Caron. We are honored by your fine presence. Welcome to Wales." Arthur's chest swelled with pride.
"My son, Andrew," he said to Isabella. She dipped her head and gave a perfect smile.
"Thank you for your kind welcome, Your Highness. It's a pleasure to meet you. Aren't you up a bit late?"
"Oh, I'm getting ready to leave. Madam Gwen told me to greet you. She's leaving with me. Good night," he said, and ran through the crowd.
Arthur stared after him and found Gwen.
Her gaze met his across the crowded room and she smiled, imperfectly but sincerely.
When his son caught up with her, she bent down and hugged him.
And Arthur could well imagine her words of praise. An odd emptiness gnawed at him.
"Your Highness," said Isabella, in her dulcet tones. "May I ask who is Madam Gwen?"
"Andrew's tutor." She smiled perfectly, again.
"How broad-minded of you to include the help."
Arthur's jaw clenched.
He was suddenly irritated with the woman beside him.
It took everything within him, to rein in his growing anger, and remain beside her, smiling mechanically.
By the time Gwen had read five books to Andrew, his tummy ache was gone and he had fallen right to sleep.
When she turned out her own light and lay down, every time she closed her eyes, the image of Arthur and Isabella, standing together smiling, appeared.
They had looked so perfect together, they could have modeled as figurines, for the top of a wedding cake.
She tried to blot out the image and concentrate on the fragrant breeze, but her sheets felt scratchy.
She felt restless and irritated.
Another image of Arthur and Isabella popped up and a knot formed in her chest.
Would Arthur tell Isabella his secrets?
His true feelings?
Gwen felt jealous and inferior and she was angry with herself, for feeling that way.
Arthur would never be hers...he should never be hers.
Fighting the terrible, stupid, feeling of loss, she tossed and turned for hours, until she drifted into a restless sleep.
The following day, Gwen was determined not to sit and mope.
Andrew was scheduled to play with his cousins, so she decided to visit the market, then popped into an adult reading class at a library.
The teacher welcomed her with embarrassing gratitude, but Gwen soon sat down, to work with two of the adults, learning to read.
After the class, Gwen agreed to send along some educational materials, before she departed Wales.
She left the library feeling more in control of herself.
The class had provided a welcome distraction.
Still not inclined to return to the palace, she took a cab to the beach and walked along the shore.
She sat on the sand and watched the sunset, then enjoyed an early dinner alone, in an Italian restaurant.
The host took pity on her and made conversation while she ate.
He was an older man, who spoke in broken English, but his kindness felt like a warm salve, to the ache she'd been trying to escape.
By the time she had returned to the palace, it was nearly ten o'clock and she was tired.
It took some doing to get passed the guards, but she finally succeeded and trudged through the halls to her room.
Gwen opened the door to her room, to find the silhouette of Prince Arthur, standing in front of her bed.
"What on earth are you doing here?" she asked.
"Where have you been?" he demanded, relieved as hell she was okay, yet angry that she'd worried him.
"To the market, library, beach and dinner," she told him. "And you still haven't answered my question."
"With whom?" he asked, ignoring her questions. Confusion crossed her face.
"With whom what?"
"With whom did you go to dinner?" She lifted her chin.
"Why do you care. It's my business who I eat dinner with." Arthur ground his teeth and stood before her. "
"Don't play with me, Guinevere..."
"I'm not playing..."
"Who did you have dinner with?" he asked, his voice low.
"With myself. Who did you have dinner with?" she threw back at him.
"Myself," he said, anger oozing through him. "Isabella's visit was a failure." Her eyes widened in surprise.
"Why? She's beautiful."
"Yes," he said curtly, running a hand through his hair.
"She's perfect."
"Not exactly," he said, circling her. "She's a snob," he ended. And Gwen winced.
"Oh. I'm sorry."
"But that wasn't her worst crime," he said.
"What was?"
"She wasn't you."
'She wasn't you.' Gwen's heart felt as if it had stopped. She tried to breathe but couldn't.
"What are you saying?" she asked. He moved closer to her and touched her cheek.
"That you have ruined me, sweetheart," he said in a dark, sensual voice. And Gwen swallowed the lump in her throat.
"Should I apologize?" she asked.
"I couldn't even kiss her." A wicked relief rushed through Gwen. She bit her lip.
"How terrible," she said, unable to keep the joy from her voice. He shook his head and drew her forehead against his.
"Then, you made it worse by disappearing today."
"I told Francis some of my plans." Arthur frowned.
"He didn't mention them to me."
"I couldn't stay here. All I would have done, was mope." She closed her eyes. "I hate being jealous."
"I couldn't tell you were jealous, especially, when you sent Andrew to greet Isabella."
"If you'd decided to marry her, I wanted her to love him, too," she said, stepping into his arms.
"I am not marrying her," he said, and immediately unzipped her dress and pushed it to the floor.
Swearing under his breath, he unfastened her bra.
Gwen shivered at his scalding speed.
"That was fast," she said through a tight throat.
"Uh-huh," he muttered, and took her mouth.
His lips consumed hers, in a kiss that made her blood roar through her veins.
He suckled, nibbled and licked at her lips, at the same time his hands slid over her breasts with taunting familiarity.
As if he knew how sensitive her nipples were, he barely brushed them with his fingers, then dropped his hands, making her ache for more.
He slowly walked her to the bed and sat her down.
The scent of unspent passion hung in the air, and Gwen was rocked by the power that vibrated between them.
He slid his hard thighs between her legs, a sensual masculine invasion, that made her pulse beat faster.
It was a calm night outside, but she felt thunder and lightning inside her.
There was a possessiveness in Arthur's eyes, that burned her to her soul and something inside her...something older than time, drew her to him.
She unbuttoned his shirt and pushed it from his shoulders and whilst he ate at her mouth, she skimmed her hands over his bare skin and felt his chest gently abrade her nipples.
She allowed her hands to travel over his hard abdomen and lower, to his hips and thighs.
He stood very still, as she drew her hand closer to the part of him, that throbbed with arousal.
She brushed her hand over him, once, twice and drank in the sound of his groan.
She unfastened his slacks and slid her hand down the front of his boxers. He was hard, and touching him so intimately, made her dizzy.
Arthur picked her up and laid her down on the bed and standing before her, with the moonlight playing over him, he stripped completely.
The strength of his muscles made her feel protected. And the sight of his arousal jutting out proudly, made her buzz in all her secret places.
But the honest need in his eyes, completely obliterated her defenses.
Something about him, compelled her to give him everything she could. And although a part of her was afraid, she couldn't move away from him, if she tried.
Arthur tossed a couple packets of protection, on the bedside table, then joined her on the bed.
Next, he lowered his head, to taste her nipples and she gasped. Seconds later, he snapp ed her panties out of the way and began to fondle her intimately.
Gwen grew wet and restless with need.
"I love the sounds you make... and I love the way you move," he whispered.
He slid his finger inside her, and she gasped again, writhing at the pleasure he was giving her.
He took her lips again, in a kiss that wiped everything but him, from her consciousness.
Then, he made a path of sensual destruction, down her throat, to each of her breasts.
He went lower still, skimming his tongue over her belly and then rubbing his cheek over her femininity.
Softly, he placed a kiss on the inside of her thigh, and Gwen couldn't swallow. She couldn't breathe.
With agonizing slowness, he found her most sensitive spot and rubbed his tongue over it.
Gwen felt herself grow so swollen, and feared she would burst.
Then she did, shattering over the edge, in complete bliss.
She thought she was done, but then, he took her with his mouth and brought her back to the brink of release.
This time, when she began to shake, he pulled on protection and pushed her legs apart.
"Look at me," he demanded in a husky, rough voice. And she did.
Holding her gaze, he entered her, inch by excruciating inch.
She bit her lip at his size and watched, as his eyes closed to slits of pleasure, and his nostrils flared.
"My darling, you are so tight," he muttered.
"I'm not very experienced," she murmured, holding her breath and waiting to adjust to him. His gaze moved over her possessively.
"I'm glad." He squeezed her bottom, and she relaxed.
Then, he plunged deeper, and she gulped.
"You're mine," he told her, in a voice that sounded, as if it could travel through universes and across seas. "Now you're mine."
And so, he began the age-old rhythm.
His passion was so fierce, Gwen felt as though she needed some reassurance, some measure of tenderness.
She reached for his hand, and he lifted hers to his lips, and her heart was lost.
She clung to him, as he took her to heights unknown, driving into her forcefully, then slowly, deeply and passionately.
Wrapped up in his arms, he gave her everything he had to give.
When she shattered beneath him, he too, shook with release, and something told her, she would never be the same again.
The sunlight streaming through the window, awakened Gwen, early the next morning.
Lifting her hand to cover her eyes, she squinted around the room.
Her senses awakened slowly.
She was naked beneath her white cotton sheet and when she shifted her legs, her thighs and breasts felt tender.
She inhaled deeply, recalling the way Arthur had made love to her, the night before.
She wondered when he'd left her and fought a stab of abandonment.
Looking beside her on the bed, if she hadn't smelled, just a hint of his masculine spicy scent, she could almost believe, she had dreamed, he'd been in her bed.
She sat up and wrapped her arms around her knees.
The morning was peaceful, but her heart was in an uproar.
Well, she'd gone and done it this time.
Made love with a prince.
How was she ever going to get him out of her system, now?
She bit her lip, and her gaze snagged on a wall calendar.
The date she would be returning to the States, was circled in red, and it wasn't far away.
Her stomach clenched.
She had often grown attached to her students, but this was different...immensely different.
Too restless to remain still, she stood and pulled a robe around her.
There were so many things she wanted to teach Andrew, so many things she wanted to make sure he'd get to experience.
And Arthur.
She closed her eyes at the clench inside her.
She wanted to know everything about him, but she knew that would take more than a few weeks. It would take a lifetime.
She thought of his position and the proper bride, he must someday wed.
Her heart sank at the thought, and she castigated herself for her feelings. She had no right.
She was temporary to him. He was temporary to her.
Then, why had their lovemaking felt timeless?
She looked at the calendar again.
It would take a lifetime to know him, but how could she fit a lifetime into two weeks?
What would be left of her heart if she did?
"Thank you very much, but no thank you," Gwen said, as she set the satin-lined jeweler's box, firmly on the table in Arthur's private den.
Arthur looked at her in surprise, trying to understand the hurt and anger, shimmering in her brown eyes.
He opened the box and looked at the diamond bracelet inside.
"You didn't like it?" She pressed her lips together in a frown.
"Let's just say, it's not me."
"Would you prefer a different stone than diamonds, or perhaps...a necklace?" She sighed.
"I appreciate the thought, but I really don't want jewelry from you." Arthur couldn't fathom a woman who didn't want jewelry.
"Why ever not?" She crossed her arms over her chest.
"Aside from the fact, that I'm not a big jewelry person, I don't want you giving me jewelry. If you want to give me something, then give me..."
She broke off and shrugged.
"Then give you what?" he asked, stepping closer, determined to eliminate the distance she was putting between them.
He wanted her wrapped around him, the way she'd been last night.
"I just don't want jewelry," she said, in a low voice after a long pause. A ray of recognition broke through Arthur's confusion.
"You felt...I was paying you for making love with me," he said, feeling his temperature rise. "Is that why you don't want me to give you gifts."
She looked at him warily.
"Not...not...jewelry."
"I wasn't paying you for making love with me, Guinevere," he said, grinding his teeth. "If I want to give you a token of my feelings for you, then I damn well should be able to."
Her gaze softened, and she lifted her hand to his cheek.
"When I go home to the States, I don't want to take tokens back with me. I want to take enough memories to keep me forever."
Arthur felt his chest squeezed tight, and he covered her hand with his.
"It's not necessary for you to return so soon," he said, and when she opened her mouth to argue, he shook his head. "I'll help you to see things differently."
She stared at him, then her lips twitched.
"Oh, really, and how do you plan to do that?" The dare in her eyes, was a delicious tease he couldn't resist.
"Just because you may not have a weakness for diamond bracelets, doesn't mean you don't have a weakness for other things," he said, and guided her forefinger to his lips.
He encircled the tip with his tongue and watched her bite her lip. She cleared her throat.
"Such as?"
"Chocolate strawberries," he said, drawing her finger into his mouth. She closed her eyes. "And me," he finished.
He picked her up in his arms and walked towards his bedroom.
He had dreamed of seeing her there, her wild, dark curls spilling over his pillow, her body naked on top of his sheets.
Arthur had never felt so possessive about a woman before, not even his late wife.
That thought could have bothered him, but not now.
Now, Gwen was in his arms, lifting her lips to his, and soon she would be his again, in the most elemental way.
In her eyes, she was fighting the arousal, but not winning, he noticed, with a rush of gratification.
Stay home, stay safe, stay blessed.