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Chapter 5
As I walk down the corridor, my mind races with the need to simultaneously be with James, but also to find this Isabelle character.
I’m so caught up in my thoughts that at first, I don’t notice what I’ve just come across until a muffled groan catches my attention. Looking up, my eyes widen in shock at what I’m seeing.
The Queen, Francesca, is locked in the embrace of Richard, James’s best friend and advisor. They are mauling each other like they can’t get enough. I can’t believe the audacity of either of them. They were in the hallway, where anyone could walk by, not even trying to hide what they were doing. I didn’t think James would have them killed considering what she had walked in on this morning, but any other King would have.
Richard’s eyes lock with mine over Francesca’s shoulder as they continue to kiss. He doesn’t look alarmed; in fact, he looks extremely calm. I was now even more confused about what was going on. I was expecting him to threaten to kill me if I told James, to chase me down the corridor, lock me in a cell...I wasn’t expecting him to carry on as if I wasn’t there.
I pinch myself to make sure that I was in fact still here. I was always afraid that whatever forced me to travel across the ages would someday just make me disappear and I would just be a silent observer of the world, unable to have human contact.
Many times in the past I had wanted to just disappear, but now that I had found James again, and perhaps someone who could unlock the secrets to whatever curse I’ve had to suffer through, I don’t want to disappear. For the first time in a very long time, I’m ready to live.
Averting my eyes from the continued stare of Richard and feeling like a voyeur as the couple’s action begins to ramp up, I tiptoe quietly down the hall not wanting to catch Francesca’s attention. I’m sure that her lover will fill her in and then there will be hell to pay.
I find my way back to James’ quarters, and I’m surprised when I find him frantic, pacing back and forth in the room. His eyes widen when he sees me walk in and the panic present in them dims.
“Where have you been?” he asks me, still sounding like he is in a panic.
“Just looking around the castle,” I respond slowly, not sure exactly what is going on and why he is so upset.
“I thought you were going to stay here. You can’t just walk around the castle unattended,” he responds, his worry and panic morphing into anger.
“I didn’t know,” I respond shakily, my own anger rising up in response to his. “We haven’t exactly had a chance to talk yet and go over all the rules I should be following,” I say sarcastically.
“Rule number one, you are not a guest in the palace, you are a prisoner. Behave accordingly.”
“A prisoner? For what reason?” I reply indignantly.
“Treason to your country. Abandoning your king. Should I continue?” he asks, and my shoulders drop, and I turn away from him, hoping to hide the fact that tears are building in my eyes. I take a deep breath and turn back around prepared to fight for him to let me talk. But my words freeze on my tongue.
It’s not because I don’t have anything more to say, it’s because of how he looks at me. The minute our eyes connect, he’s the lion on the hunt, watching and circling—hungry. Danger bristles along my nape. And then the mask falls, and he allows me in, a glimpse at the man behind the throne, and I find his vulnerability speaks to mine.
A painful memory of my past tries to fall into place, but I’m quick to put it back on the shelf. Those are for another time, not this one, with James watching me as if he’s thirsty and I’m the only one who can quench his thirst. Not while his eyes rake over my body and a simmering ache makes me want something, I’m not sure how to ask for... something that I’m not sure that I even deserve.
He suddenly walks towards me and we’re crushed together. Hot and demanding, just like him. He grinds against me and I melt into a pool of need. It’s perfection and I’m at peace. Feelings of inadequacy and insecurity from a past I can’t let go float away until there are absolutely no thoughts of them anywhere. I’m free, because there’s a chance he could forgive me.
I’m free from pain, and it’s because James is where I’m meant to be.
I suck his tongue, hungry for everything he offers. He groans and his tightly bound control slips as he licks and bites into my mouth, driving pleasure from the piercing sting until my cry rebounds against the walls. I’m at his mercy. With his silent insistence, I accept my fate and dive in. Wrapping my arms around his head, my fingers plunge into his hair and I pull him closer, matching him need for need. We’re stuck together in a frantic, pleading kiss. A knock on the door startles me and I make to pull away, but he holds tight. He continues to nip and pull at my lips, his tongue dipping to touch mine seductively. After another moment, he gentles, as if he can’t pull away cold turkey. It’s a slow, sensual descent from heaven to earth.
Another knock at the door, more urgent this time, and he breaks contact. “I’ll be right there,” he calls in a grating voice. Glaring at the door, he turns back to me. His hands move to cradle my nape and his gaze softens when it finds mine. Holy hell. “I should go,” I pant, stunned by the intensity of what just happened between us. He straightens to his full height, releasing my body, yet his hold remains in place. Stroking his thumb over my bottom lip, he whispers, “So beautiful.”
Another knock fractures the pull between us, the one that only seems to have grown in the years since I’ve been gone.
I try to collect myself as he lets go of me to answer the door. I hear soft murmuring for a minute and then James closes it.
“Who was that?” I ask, still slightly out of breath from our brief, but passionate, interlude.
“Just a servant,” he responds and my heart sinks at his tone. Cold King James is back, my lover has disappeared. Whoever was at the door, they must have brought him bad news because his head is not in the room anymore, its somewhere else focusing on some new problem that is now plaguing him.
“I need you at the banquet tonight. The Spanish Ambassador will be there, and I need you to keep his attention on you at all times,” he says to me sharply.
I open my mouth to ask a question, but he shakes his head. “Later,” he says. “The servants will be in shortly to help you get ready.”
“But don’t you need to get ready?” I ask, prepared to argue that I didn’t need servants again.
“I’ll pick you up in three hours. Don’t leave the room until I come to get you,” he says, walking to the door, opening it, and leaving through it without another word to me.
