Read Highness Online

Authors: Latrivia Nelson

Highness (20 page)

Michael shrugged. “Wherever they go,” he laughed a little.  “Let someone else take care of you for a little while.  Trust me, they take great pride in their work.  And they are well treated.  I’m not the type of person that would allow anything less.”

“It just feels weird to have a butler or maid tending to me,” she said, turning to him.  Her eyes were bright with excitement.

Michael was glad.  Earlier, she had been so hurt by those hounds at the airport.  He was hoping that being here might lighten her mood, although it had the opposite effect for him.  He would have rather been back in Hernando in her bed making love. 

Michael kissed her lips.  “Let’s get you a hot bath, a change of clothes and dinner.  And we can talk about all the things we are going to do together now that you are here.” The look in his eye said that he wasn’t talking about things to do together outside of the bedroom.  Slipping a hand behind her on her lower back, he escorted her to the spiral staircase that led upstairs to his master bedroom.

Hope felt like a fish out of water.  This home was amazing and everything in it, but as soon as she walked into his apartment, the first thought that came to mind was did she belong here.  However, Michael seemed to not have the same thought in his mind at all.

Leading her to the room at the end of the hall with white double doors, he grasped the gold-gilded knobs in his hand and pushed the doors open to a luxurious bedroom that seemed to minimize all the beauty outside of the room.  A king-sized oak sleigh bed sat against a wall of art that span from the 18
th
century until today.  In frames that probably cost more than her home under special lighting, the back wall was a sight that one would have more than likely seen in a Smithsonian.  His bed, a vision of sex, was covered in dark thick comforters, huge body-sized pillows and a newspaper.  On the opposite wall was an uncompromisingly large shelf of books in rows up to the vaulted ceiling and down to the floor.  The only windows in the room were on the far right side of the opulent room and were covered by dark curtains with white linen drapes, pulled to the sides and hung against golden sconces.  A simple wooden desk sat in front of the windows with a lamp, a photo of his mother in a beautiful frame and Michael’s writing papers.

On the same wall was a large fireplace and to add a more modern touch to the room a television mounted over the mantle. 

“It’s very masculine,” she said, trying to find the words. “And very stately.”

“And very boring,” Michael said, closing the doors behind them. “I wish that you could have seen my penthouse.  It was more our style, you know.  Very modern but at the same time a place that you enjoy without leaving for a month.”

Hope smiled when he said our style. Her eyes flashed with promise.  “So what did you have in mind in terms of a bath?” She dropped her purse on the floor. 

Michael smirked.  “I have the mind to give you one.”

“Really?” she laughed.  “You’re going to give me a bath in the middle of the day.” 

Michael pulled at the buttons of his shirt.  Slipping it off, he pulled off his undershirt to reveal his perfect muscular frame.  “Do you have a problem with that, Ms. Daniels?”

Hope raised her palms. “Hey, you won’t get an argument from me, Your Highness.”

“Then why are you still clothed?” He asked, pulling at the buckle of his pants.

“I’m just enjoying the show,” she said walking over to the bed.

Michael growled. “If you go over there and get on that, I’ll be forced to move to DEF-CON 3.”

Hope laughed as he threw his pants to her.  “What is DEF-CON 3?” She looked out of the window and saw heavy raindrops hitting the window pane.  It was a perfect day now.  In the coziness of his private chambers, she felt suddenly as safe as she did back in her home.

He grabbed the remote and turned on his Bose system.  “This is DEF-CON 3,” he said, putting on a song.  Pink Floyd’s Marooned lit up the room.  The hidden small speakers put out a crystal clear vision of sex. 

“What is this?” Hope asked, listening to the song.

“Pink Floyd,” he said, walking up to her naked.  “And you’re still clothed.”  Putting his palm in between her breasts, he playfully pushed her back on the bed.  Grabbing her feet, he first pulled off her boots, then her socks, then made his way up to her jeans and pulled them off.  Helping him out, she pulled off her shirt, but when she went for her bra, he stopped her.

“No, don’t touch it,” he ordered. “Sometimes, when you want something done right, you have to do it yourself.”

Snickering, she laid back on the bed again.  “Okay, Tiger.”

His left eye twitched. “Why do you call me that, anyway?”

“Because you have a deadly gaze,” she said, as she watched him slowly and seductively remove her powder blue lace panties.  Massaging her inner thighs, he watched her give in to his demands. 

Her mouth opened in pleasure. 

“You like that?” he asked, as he grabbed her legs and turned her over on her stomach. 

Her eyes closed as his fingers stroked gently over her backside.  “Yes,” she whispered. 

His fingers flicked at her bra and unhooked it.  Removing the article of clothing from her body, he kissed down the length of her long back to her ample bosom.  Massaging her slowly, he kissed the round orbs with his tongue as he spread her legs further open. 

Hope could feel his hot skin pressed against hers and smell his cologne all around her.  She could feel his hardness pressing against her, aching to be buried inside of her body.  She could feel his hands roaming all over her, stroking and massaging her muscles, easing the tension of a long day.  And in that moment, she felt completely at ease.  No more lights, no more questions, just the privacy they needed to do what they did best…love each other. 

“I love you,” he whispered.

“I love you,” she answered. 

Looking across the room at the rain beating heavily against the window, Hope closed her eyes as she felt her prince gently push deep inside of her.   

 

 

Chapter 19

It had been ten days since the royal couple had been spotted at Heathrow Airport.  And since their appearance, it was as if they had disappeared off the face of the earth.  Instead of setting up interviews and coming out publicly the way that Michael had done with Thalia, he instead kept his mouth and his shutters closed.  Holed up in the royal apartment on Kensington Palace grounds, he had ordered the best foods, wine and treats that money could buy and decided to stay completely out of the public’s eye.

It wasn’t that he was ashamed of her.  In fact, he was prouder of her than he had ever been of any woman.  It was simply that he had made a promise to protect her, and the only way that he could do so was to keep her away from prying eyes until he could train her in the art of public relations.

Every media outlet on both sides of the Atlantic Ocean had begged for an interview from the Royal Family, but just like Michael, Richard was happy to turn them down. So, the paparazzi was forced to do what they did best – stay outside of the property day and night in hopes of a glimpse of the now internationally known Hope Daniels.

Just to make sure that they were not interrupted, Michael changed the shifts of the staff to accommodate them when they needed help but to give them more privacy.  After all, they liked
exploring
the rooms of the apartment alone and uninterrupted. 

And while Hope and Michael had not left the house, he had ordered her beautiful clothes from some of the most expensive clothiers in London along with shoes, lingerie and jewelry – just in case they had to make an appearance somewhere.  Only, Hope had not managed to wear much outside of the French lace panties and his t-shirts. 

At near dusk on a dreary, rainy Wednesday, Michael and Hope cooked their dinner alone while watching one of Michael’s favorite BBC shows, Copper, on the television mounted on the wall.  The perfectly modern kitchen was made for a king with its stainless steel appliances, granite floors and countertops, beautifully designed oak cabinets and top-of-the-line appliances.  It was Hope’s dream kitchen.  She couldn’t cook enough.  Every day, the staff brought more fresh vegetables, fruit and herbs.  Every day, more wine and drinks and sweets.  She had to remember to pace herself, in case she gained more weight than she needed. 

Preparing an eclectic meal of spring salad, bangers and mash and cottage pie, the two were scantily dressed as normal with Michael in his boxers and Hope in one of his most comfortable tailored Oxfords.  With full glasses of wine and several cookbooks out, they laughed and talked over half-burned down fragrant candles and an island table full of ingredients. 

“So, then I tell him the difference between the two is that she actually was once a man,” Michael concludes his joke as he cut up the last of the onions and peppers on the cutting board. “So, it served him right with all of his woman hating.”

Hope paused in shock.  “Wait, really?”

He nodded. “Really.”  Popping a ripe cherry tomato in his heart-shaped mouth, he put the freshly cut vegetables in the bowl with the rest of the ingredients.  Its fragrant mix wafted up to his nose and his mouth watered. 

“But I thought she was a woman?” Hope frowned.

“She is a woman…now.”  He shrugged. “You know, after the change.”

Hope’s brows raised. “Oh…wow.  How did he react?” 

“He almost had a heart attack right there.  Served the bastard right.  She was more of a woman than he could ever handle and more of a man than he’d be.” 

Hope laughed.  “Good for her.”

Walking over to her side of the island, Michael grabbed her by the waist and pulled her to him.  Nudging his head into her curly hair, he hugged her.  “I have a surprise for you before we finish dinner.”

She grinned, feeling him harden behind her. “Would that gift be about ten inches?”

Biting at her ear, he groaned. “That’s on the dessert menu.” Grabbing her hand, he led her out of the kitchen, through the hallway of historic paintings and up the back stairwell to the second level of the house. 

“Where are we going?” she asked curiously.

“We’re almost there,” he said, so excited he wanted to burst. 

Opening the door to one of the guest bedrooms, he stepped aside.

Hope walked in and put her hands to her mouth.  In complete disbelief, she meandered up to her beautiful paintings all lined up with fresh new supplies to finish her work.  The painting that she had left incomplete was sitting by the window with a beautiful little stool and a drop cloth draped below it. And beside it on a modest little table with fresh flowers were pictures of her mother and grandmother – the same photos she had on her nightstand at home.

“Michael,” she said with tears in her eyes. “I can’t thank you enough.”

“I had them delivered while you were sleeping today.  I’m sorry it took so long for me to collect them, but I knew you needed to get back to your work.”  He walked beside her and held her hand as he looked at the painting. “I just wanted you to know that what is important to you is important to me.”

Turning to him quickly, she hugged him tightly.  “Thank you, thank you,” she said, wiping tears of joy.

Michael was happy that she was happy.  It set the mood for what he wanted to ask her next. “So, with your work here, I was hoping that you might consider staying a little while longer.” 

She tilted her head. “How much longer?”

Forever, Michael thought to himself.  Instead, he gave a more realistic timeline.  “Until you decide otherwise,” he said, eyes sparkling with promise.  “I want you to live here with me.”

Hope couldn’t deny that she had thought about it, but broaching the subject might make this fairytale too real for him. So, she had simply allowed herself to live in the moment.

“How will your family react to us living together?” she asked, trying to keep everything in perspective. “You’ve seen the newspapers, and so have I.  We’re all that anyone can talk about over here or at home for that matter. I don’t want to make your life any more complicated than I already have.”

Michael huffed. “You don’t make it complicated. You make it worth living.  Since you’ve been here, since I’ve met you, I’ve been a changed man.  I can think straight. I feel alive.  I know what I want out of life.  And I want you.”  He brushed through her brown locks.  “You complete me, Hope.”

Awash with emotion, she nodded.  She believed his every word, because she felt it as well. She loved him more than any man she had ever loved before. 

“So say yes,” he said with a chuckle.  “You have me in all sixes and sevens over here.”

“Yes,” she said, feeling like it was more of a proposal than an agreement.  “I’ll be your live-in girlfriend.”

***

On the other side of Kensington Palace, the mood was not so amicable.  Sitting among a room full of counselors, Richard listened as the men argued about his brother and what to do with him.  He knew Michael well and he also knew that putting pressure on him to end his relationship with Hope would only push him further into her arms, but he was finally left with no choice.

“The public is demanding an answer,” one of the counselors said, beating one hand into the other in a very dramatic fashion.  “She’s not even British.”

“She’s not noble. She didn’t graduate from Oxford. She didn’t even graduate from Harvard.  She went to art school for goodness sake,” another man argued.

“What if he gets her pregnant? A child would disrupt the very fabric of this country,” William said as he stared out of the window at the rain. “This is a very volatile situation.  She could bring the entire country down, Your Highness.”

Richard had heard enough.  Shifting in his chair by the fireplace, he rubbed the head of his Jack Russell, Porgie, waved his hand dismissively.  “I’ve heard quite enough.”

The men, all rumbling about, quickly quieted down, to hear what Richard had to say.  He looked around at the men who were all conspiring against his brother and felt a sudden sense of regret for Michael.  The boy had never truly been happy and he knew that whatever decision they came to tonight, would not make him any happier, but this was a matter of state, not of the heart.

“I am going to present him with everything that has been said,” Richard said, picking up his glass of water to stop the tickle in the back of his throat.  “I’m going to present him with Thalia’s offer,” he said, looking over at her father, who was conspiring more than any other in the room.  “And I’m going to present Hope with the royal offer,” he said looking at William.

“And what if they both deny all offers?” Thalia’s father asked.

“This isn’t a dictatorship,” Richard said with a sneer.  “And let me all remind you that my brother is still your soon-to-be-king.  Keep your head about yourself with this plotting lest he find a way to figuratively take it off when he comes into power.  Trust that any decision that is made, he will know who made it, because I will tell him. I will not leave this world a liar and a cheater of hearts. I will be persuasive and just, but the ultimate decision lies with him.”

There was a tight stillness in the room.  Most thought that Richard might be conversely heavy-handed about Michael’s future, but it seemed that the hours and hours of conversation had only softened his position and sickened him with grief.  Plus, the idea that Michael would know exactly who had a hand in this proposal might not bode well for everyone in the room. 

Richard sank down in his chair, sick with not only physical pain but sorrow.  “Leave me now,” he ordered, looking into the fire.  “And William.”

“Yes, Your Highness,” William answered quickly as he filed into a line to leave the study with the rest of the men. 

Richard pursed his lips together. “Send Geoff in.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

Geoff was standing outside with the rest of the various security details, waiting on direction.  However, he knew, unlike the rest of the men around him, exactly what was going on behind those closed doors and that it would all come down to how far Richard was willing to push Michael.  In order to actually get the desired outcome, however, that push would have to be off a cliff.

As Geoff eyed his older brother, William coming out of the study obviously exhausted from the conversation, he could tell by the worried look on his brother’s face that things were not good.

“Prince Richard would like a word with you,” William said, resting his hand on his brother’s shoulder.  “I need you to think of the crown and do exactly as he asks.  It’s no secret how close you and Michael are, but this is bigger than friendship.”

Geoff hated that his brother felt the need to remind him.  Without a word, he walked into the door and closed it behind him.

Richard had finally found his way up out of his chair and was making himself another stiff drink. From various quiet reports around the palace, it was being said that Richard, normally a very sober man, had taken to drinking more when he was alone – not that Geoff could blame him.  When a man’s mortality was nearing its end, one tended to numb the pain of the inevitable.

“Would you like one?” Richard asked, raising his crystal tumbler.  It caught the light of the embers from the fire just across the way from him.

“Yes,” Geoff said, politely.  After all, why should the man be made to drink alone?

Richard gladly poured him a glass and then offered it to him.

Geoff took it and nodded.  Quietly, he waited for instruction.

Richard, however, wasn’t exactly ready to get to that.  “You’re the only one out of all these bastards who knows my brother and you’re the only one who has met Hope Daniels.”

Geoff wasn’t sure if that was a question or not but answered. “Yes.”

Richard raised a brow. “Well, what are your thoughts on their relationship?”

Now, he’d need the drink.  Taking a gulp of the scotch, he relaxed his shoulders a bit “It’s serious.”

“As in love?”

Geoff’s right eye twitched. “As in love.”

“But so quickly,” Richard said, scratching his brow in confusion. “You know he’s never been the type to move quickly.  What about this girl…” He corrected himself.  “What about this woman, in your honest opinion, has changed him.”

Geoff did feel that Michael had changed.  He had seen him grow as a person in a few short weeks, but he didn’t feel that it was all due to Hope. Michael had been hurt by Thalia’s confession, but it had also opened his eyes to what he could be potentially missing in a relationship.

“She is real,” Geoff said, following Richard as they walked, back to his chair.

“Go on,” Richard said, truly intrigued. “In what way is she so real?”

That was such a fluid question until Geoff truly had to take pause.  He took another gulp and licked his lips.  “Michael has never felt good enough.  And I say this with the utmost respect for you, sir.”

“Of course you do.  There are no airs here. We are just two men talking,” Richard said sincerely. “Please, go on, Geoff. I value your opinion.”

“And I appreciate it, sir,” Geoff said, taking a seat beside him.  Legs spread and elbows on his knees, he tried to find the best way to say what needed to be said. “I don’t pretend to know how hard it is to be born to royal blood. While my family has always honorably been in service to your family, we are…commoners.  That’s never been a bad thing in my eyes, because it has allowed us to see the world in a different light and provide a different perspective for you.  But Michael has always seemed different. He never desired the crown. He wanted to make his own way and do his own thing, and I think that he despised the idea that he was so close in line to be King, because with that responsibility came more attention from the media and the fans and the rest of the world.”

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