The Anti-Cinderella Conquers the World Page 2

  “If we’re going to move to an apartment here, why can’t we keep the cottage?” I heard the stubborn note in my own voice. Nicky and I both knew that I hated change. Once I was comfortable in a place or a situation, moving to something new made me anxious and itchy.

  “Because the cottage isn’t big enough for us. Or it won’t be, once we have children.” Nicky tossed out that phrase in an off-handed manner that made my heart skip a beat—in a good way. While I’d never really fantasized about kids, it was undeniable that the thought of having Nicky’s babies made me go soft and gooey on the inside. It also made other parts of my body heat up.

  “All right,” I sighed. “But even so, do we really need a second home outside the city? I’m not sure I can keep up with two houses and the oodles of children that we’re apparently going to have. That sounds like a full-time job in and of itself.”

  “We’ll have help, Ky, both at the apartment and wherever else we might end up with a home. And who said anything about oodles of children? I wasn’t aware that we’d committed to a number.” Nicky picked up the toothpaste and slid me a sideways glance.

  “We didn’t, but Nicky, for heaven’s sake, look at you.” I pointed to his reflection in the mirror, my gaze roaming over the ropes of muscle on his arms, the way his thin tee hugged the contours of his chest and substantial bulge that was barely disguised by his boxers. “There’s no way I’m going to be able to stop at just a couple of babies when this is the package we’re working with.”

  The hint of a flush spread over his cheeks. “I think there’s a compliment buried in there somewhere. So thank you for that.” He ran water over his toothbrush.

  “I think maybe that’s part of what’s freaking me out about the idea of a second home,” I mused, resting my ass against the edge of the vanity and folding my arms over my chest.

  Nicky, in the midst of brushing his teeth, answered me with a quirked, questioning eyebrow.

  “The help part,” I elaborated. “Right now, we have Mrs. Winston coming in twice a week, and that’s lovely. The bathrooms are cleaned, the sheets are changed, iffy leftovers are tossed from the fridge . . . all that is wonderful. But she’s not here living with us all the time. We’re almost always out when she’s working. It’s like magic fairies come in and clean our house while we’re working.”

  “Not sure Mrs. Winston would appreciate being compared to a magic fairy,” Nicky said wryly, rinsing off his toothbrush. “But I see your point. And yes, I understand that it will take some adjustment, but we can make this into whatever works for us. We can have as much or as little help as we decide we need.”

  “I don’t want people in our business all the time. I like how cozy and intimate we are here.” Moving behind Nicky, I wrapped my arms around his waist and rested my cheek against his sturdy back. “I want to be able to sit on your lap and make out with you without worrying that someone’s going to interrupt us.”

  “Then we’ll make sure the only people able to interrupt our make-out sessions are our, uh, oodles of children.” He reached for a towel to dry his face and then turned in my arms to pull me closer. “And aren’t you even the least bit curious about the place Grandpa mentioned to me?”

  “Sure.” I rested my cheek over his heart, letting my eyes drift shut. “Tell me all about it.”

  “Your enthusiasm is overwhelming.” Nicky brushed a kiss over the top of my head. “The reason Grandpa thought of us specifically is that his cousin is very passionate about speculative farming techniques. He actually founded a center for researching new practices, and he has a couple of acres devoted to new sorts of crops.”

  I wriggled in Nicky’s hold. “Really? Are you serious? I’d have my own dirt to play in?”

  “To your heart’s content. As long as you promise not to leave me on my own with our oodles of children for hours on end.” Nicky grinned. “Take them with you. They can learn to make mud pies.”

  “I can’t make any promises.” I stood on my toes to press a kiss to his mouth. “When can we go see this estate? And is it something that we could really consider doing? I mean, can we afford it?”

  “In reverse order of your questions, yes and yes, and as far as when . . . I need to check our schedules, but I think next weekend, we might be able to slip away for a quick visit, after I’ve gotten back from that conference in Scotland. What do you think? Maybe drive up there on Saturday morning and then spend the night with Cousin Anders—he’s the current estate owner. Then we could come back home Sunday or Monday, depending on what’s on your calendar.”

  “A weekend trip!” I almost squealed. As much as I’d dreaded the thought of living anywhere but London, now the idea of this country home was growing on me. The thought of having land on which to play and plant was entirely too tempting. “I can clear my calendar for that.”

  “Wonderful.” Nicky kissed the tip of my nose. “I’ll see what I can do to make it happen. If Grandpa calls his cousin and lets him know we’re interested, I think the old geezer will be more than happy to host us for a night or two.”

  “What do you know about the house? And where exactly is it?”

  Nicky eased me around so that my back was against the wall of the bathroom. I knew he thought he was being subtle, but I barely hid a grin. I was well aware of where his mind was.

  “I don’t know much about the house, other than Grandpa says it’s been well-kept. The estate itself is in East Anglia, near Thetford.” With one sure hand, he stroked down my side to cup my ass.

  “East Anglia.” I tried on the words for size, trying to dredge up my scant knowledge of British geography. “Okay. I assume that’s east of London.”

  “It is.” Nicky’s clever fingers began to insinuate themselves between my legs, making me shiver. “Thetford is a fairly large town. It expanded after the war. But there’s a small village near the estate . . . Grandpa said it’s a quiet place. The kind of location that would offer us some privacy.”

  “Hmmm . . . privacy.” I let my head fall back to rest against the wall as my eyes shuttered to half-mast. “I like that. What on earth would we do with all that privacy?”

  “I’m thinking maybe something like this.” He bent his head and covered my lips with his open mouth. I melted against his body, relaxing and letting him take charge, closing my eyes and enjoying the feel of his hands roaming over me. He paused only briefly before sliding his fingers into the gap in my robe’s neckline.

  “What do we have here?” His eyes widened in pretended surprise. “Unfettered breasts, just out here loose in the world?” He traced one finger lightly around the tip that was already hardened, anticipating his caress. “Whatever shall we do with them?”

  “Seems to me you might have some good ideas.” I arched my back. “Just go with it. I have faith in your creativity.”

  “Thanks for your confidence in me.” Nicky lowered his head, easing the cotton robe out of the way as his lips touched one throbbing nipple. “I’ll do my best to live up to your high standards.”

  “You do that.” I shivered. “Um, not that I’m trying to micromanage your process here, but do you think maybe we should move this party to the nice, comfy bed over there?”

  “No.” He sucked harder on me, and at the same time, his fingers pinched the other nipple. “Not tonight. Tonight, I’m taking you up against this wall. I’m going to pound into you until you’re screaming my name—just as a reminder about the importance of privacy.”

  Before I could do more than moan out my assent—because really, who’s going to complain about her sexy husband wanting it hot and heavy against a wall?—Nicky had pulled the robe from my body and stripped off his own tee and boxers. I stretched one hand down to wrap my fingers around his jutting erection, but he batted me away.

  “No. Tonight, you don’t touch. Tonight, you just . . . enjoy.” His lips traced a path down my neck. “Just close your eyes and feel. I want you to come apart under my fingers.” He brushed his hand down to skim between my legs.
“I want you to explode under my tongue.”

  This time when his mouth took my breast, there was nothing tender or teasing. It was all heat and pressure, the scrape of his teeth over my sensitive skin and the relentless movement of his fingertips just slightly beyond where I needed him to touch me.

  “Nicky.” I gasped his name, clutching his shoulders to stay upright. “You’re torturing me.”

  “Then I’m doing it exactly right.” With a wicked grin, he dropped to his knees and coaxed my legs apart. “Open for me, my Ky. Let me see you. Let me love you.”

  I could no more have denied him than I could have stopped the earth from spinning. I widened my stance, dying just a little when I saw the anticipatory gleam in his eye.

  “Hold on tight, darling.”

  I buried my fingers in his hair and canted my hips to give him better access, groaning as he proceeded to destroy me with his mouth and his hands. When I couldn’t take it another moment, when the pleasure had built to an untenable peak, it was my husband’s name I was chanting as my body wracked and shuddered.

  And when he spun me around to face the wall and thrust himself into me, plunging over and over until I couldn’t form one coherent thought, it was my name he cried out as he reached the pinnacle.

  When my body might have slid bonelessly to the bathroom floor, utterly exhausted from bliss, Nicky scooped me into his arms and took me to our bed, holding me next to him all through the night.

  “THANK YOU FOR COMING TODAY, Your Royal Highness.” The woman standing just inside the doorway of the AfterCare Centre offered me a wide smile as she bobbed in a curtsy. “We’re so honored to have you.”

  It was no longer odd to me, I realized. After a little over six months as a duchess, it still felt surreal that most people offered me a bow or curtsy, but it didn’t throw me the way it had in the beginning, when I’d wanted to giggle like a child each time I saw a woman bob in front of me.

  And the words that came out of my mouth in response to the welcome were second nature, too.

  “Oh, no, thank you for inviting me. I’m so grateful that I could be here.” Glancing behind me, I nodded to my sister-in-law. “Princess Alexandra speaks about your work with so much enthusiasm.”

  “She’s amazing, isn’t she?” The lady beamed. “Such a huge, kind heart she has. And we’re all very excited about the new joint venture you and the princess have cooked up.” My greeter stepped back, sweeping one hand forward as though presenting something to me. “This is our first group of gardeners who will be showing you around today.”

  “Excellent.” As always, I zeroed in on the little ones first, bending my knees until I was at the eye level of the smallest children waiting for me. “Hello, there! Aren’t you pretty? My name’s Kyra. What’s yours?”

  For the next half hour, I moved slowly through the room, shaking hands, smiling and sharing snippets of conversation here and there. I was aware of Alex behind me, doing the same things but making it look so effortless. I wasn’t sure if it was her natural grace or something in her genes as a bonafide born-into-the-family royal, but she constantly awed me with how easily all of this came to her.

  We spent another thirty minutes outside, where the tiny yard behind the Centre was in the midst of being transformed into a garden. AfterCare had been created to help families after the devastating loss of a loved one in military service. Alex had been the charity’s patron for several years, and it had been her idea to involve me by adding a plant and soil component to help children whose worlds had been destroyed by a parent’s death.

  I’d even managed a short speech at the ceremony that had marked the start of construction, speaking briefly about the healing nature of gardening. I wasn’t entirely sure I was doing any good, but Alex was encouraging.

  “That went very well,” she commented now as we both slid into the backseat of the car. “The children are so excited about the prospect of growing food and flowers. You were amazing.”

  “I think you have very low expectations of me, Alex.” I let my head rest on the seat’s back. “I didn’t do much beyond a little chatting with the kids.”

  “They love you because you’re so real, Kyra. You’re yourself, a genuine person, and those you meet—children, in particular—can sense that.” Alex smiled. “That’s why you’ve made such an easy adjustment to this life, to this . . .” She cast her eyes up, thinking. “To this idea of duty and giving back.”

  “Noblesse oblige?” I remembered something my grandmother had told me once upon a time. “From whom much is given, much is expected.”

  “That’s part of it.” Alex lifted one shoulder. “Our family has been very blessed, that’s undeniable. Years ago, there was a clear and unbridgeable delineation between the Royal Family and the world at large, a sense that we had to remain mysterious, separate and aloof. As the royal families in the rest of the world became more accessible and human, we did not. Queen Victoria set a standard by which her children and grandchildren lived for decades. It’s only been in my father’s lifetime that things have changed.”

  “Do you think the change has been a good one?” I wondered aloud. “I mean, the people seem to love you. Us. The family, I mean. From the point of view of someone who lived most of my life so far outside the palace, I can tell you that the rest of the world eats up whatever little tidbits of news are released about the royals.”

  “Yes, I’m aware of that,” Alex replied wryly. “I’m not sure whether opening the doors, even as slowly and as cautiously as we have, has been altogether good, but even if we hadn’t, I think the twenty-first century would have forced us into it. When Granny became Queen in 1952, television was still fairly new and the press was still . . . respectful. We could control situations.”

  “You mean, the powers that be at the Palace could spin things?” Even now that I was officially part of the organization, I still had an uneasy relationship with the business end of the Royal Family.

  “True enough,” she conceded with a sigh. “And it wasn’t always a good thing, I’ll give you that. But the point was that we regulated the flow of information. We released the pictures that we wanted to be seen. But then the press shrugged off its leash, and technology outpaced our ability to limit it. Now, we never know where the next reporter is going to pop up or if the person we stop to speak to is going have a cell phone to snap a picture of us unawares.”

  “But look at all the good you’ve done. That’s got to mean something.” I needed it to mean something. I wasn’t sure why, exactly, except that this transition from private life to that of a member of a very public family hadn’t been easy for me. I clung to the idea that there had to be something positive, some higher purpose, to make it all worthwhile.

  “It’s the only thing that does.” Alex nodded. “The world tends to look at us as living a charmed life, and no one can deny that we’re all quite privileged. But there are sacrifices, too. And I don’t think I could survive those without believing that we’re serving a purpose.”

  We were silent for a few moments as the car motored through the streets of London. I wondered if Alex was remembering the loss of her first love and fiancé, whose death had come about because of her position in the Royal Family. She had fought back from that tragedy and was now happy and fathoms deep in love with her husband Jake, but I knew she’d never forget that horrible, painful time.

  “Remind me where my brother is this week.” Alexandra shifted to face me. “You said something about him being out of town.”

  “Oh, he’s in Scotland—Glasgow, actually—at a conference. He’ll be home Wednesday night, and then over the weekend, we’re going to East Anglia to see the estate your grandfather wants us to consider.”

  “Ah, I heard something about that.” A small frown creased the space between her brows. “The meeting has to do with the environment, doesn’t it?”

  “It’s a European summit on climate change, and Nicky’s speaking about how global warming affects food production.” I set
tled into the corner of the back seat. “I can’t wait to talk to him tonight and hear how it went.”

  “It’s lonely when the husbands go away, isn’t it?” Alex tilted her head. “I’m committed to a dinner tonight, or otherwise, I’d suggest that you, Daisy and I have a girls’ night. Daisy and I used to have them regularly, but we’ve gotten out of the habit.”

  “She’s been a little different lately, hasn’t she?” It was my turn to frown. “Nicky says that she’s just finally growing up and calming down—and he usually adds that it’s about time—but it feels like something . . . more.”

  “I’ve wondered about that, too,” Alex admitted. “And then I shove it to the back of my mind. I think Nicky and I both tend to see our little sister as just that—the one who’s always been a bit of tag-along, someone who’s only looking for fun and perpetually in the mood for a party. She’s so much younger than both of us. Maybe we need to take her more seriously.”

  “Daisy’s got a lot more depth than most people see.” I was trending carefully, aware that what I said could be easily misconstrued. After all, I was a newcomer to this family. “She’s not just a party girl. The art she’s passionate about might not seem as important as the causes you and Nicky champion, but she’s serious about it. It’s where her heart is. And since everything happened earlier this year with Roc, something’s gone out of her smile. Have you noticed that? Some of her joy has disappeared.”

  Not long before our wedding, the youngest of the Westhampton royals had eloped with an unlikely acquaintance who went by the name of Roc. Only after Nicky’s father had insisted on an annulment had we learned that the young man was actually part of the aristocracy.

  “Yes, I’ve noticed that the bounce has gone out of her step,” Alex replied. “Like my brother, I chose to believe it’s that she learned a lesson with that entire debacle. You think it’s more than that?” A thread of worry ran through Alex’s voice.

  “Maybe. Or maybe it’s just my imagination. I’m not her sister, and I haven’t known her anywhere nearly as long as you have, of course. I could be all wrong.” I fiddled with the clasp on my purse. “But I love Daisy, and I want her to be all right. Nicky told me that your family feels it’s time for her to move into the cottage. I wonder if that’s the right thing for her at the moment.”