To Protect a Princess by Jess Michaels

Chapter 17

“Ilaria.”

Ilaria heard the voice through darkness and cuddled into the warmth around her even closer. “No, not yet.”

“Ilaria.”

Her name came again, and this time she recognized that it was Jonah saying it. She’d had this dream before, back in Athawick after his visit there, definitely since her arrival in London. If she opened her eyes, he wouldn’t be there and she’d be empty again. But if she stayed in her dreams, she could pretend he was real.

“Ilaria.”

She opened her eyes and jolted as she found herself looking up into Jonah’s face. Everything came back in a rush and she sat up straight. The carriage was slowing now, and through the window she could see a little cottage outside with whitewashed walls and a pretty blue door.

“What is this?” she breathed.

“It is the place I had during my time in the Royal Navy,” he said, and she heard the strain to his voice.

She glanced toward him. “And you didn’t let go of it after you inherited?”

His jaw tightened and she saw the same pain she had witnessed when he talked to her about being a bastard the previous night. The still waters of his heart ran very deep, it seemed, and she wanted to explore them all. Only he refused to let her.

“No,” he said softly. “This was the last vestige of the life I had before.”

The driver opened the door before Ilaria could push further, and Jonah looked relieved as he stepped out onto the drive and extended a hand back to assist her in her departure. He said something to the driver, who nodded and moved back to pull the carriage to the back where the small stable was located.

“I warn you there are no servants here,” he said. “I was here so rarely, I could not justify the expense. There’s a woman in the village just up the lane who will bring food and do a little tidying for us. But there won’t be fanfare.”

“I don’t think I want fanfare,” Ilaria said.

“You have always had it—I hope that will be true.”

She pursed her lips. “Do you think me an entirely silly person, Captain Crawford? I realize I’ve always been…spoiled might be the word some would use, but I hope that I have enough character to accept new circumstances with as much grace as I can muster. And the idea of not having to be on all the time is actually an intriguing one. I will make the best of this and prove you wrong if need be.”

He shook his head, but he was smiling. “I have no doubt you will prove me wrong a hundred times in during our hopefully short stay here. But on your ability to make the best of things, I actually have faith in you. Go inside while I help our driver unload the rig.”

She blinked in confusion at that idea and then realization dawned. “Oh…yes, because no servants.”

He arched a brow at her and then guided her to the door. He unlocked it and opened it, motioning her inside before him.

She caught her breath. If the outside of the home was charming, the inside matched. The foyer had a tall ceiling and sunlight streamed in through the windows beside the door. There were double doors open to a parlor off the entryway and from what she could see through them, it had pretty white wainscoting and bright corners to sit and read. The house was cold at present, and everything was covered with cloths to keep the dust away, but she was already enchanted. No wonder he hadn’t been able to sell this place when he inherited. Though she couldn’t help but think about his expression when he told her that.

She stepped from the foyer into the parlor she’d been admiring. The brightness of the room came from the sunlight streaming from the bay window which faced out onto the lane. She moved toward it, running her hand over the sheet-covered chair near the fireplace across the room. She tugged and pulled the sheet away. A sparkle of dust filled the air and she waved her hand to clear it. Then she smiled and went around the rest of the room, pulling the sheets away and piling them in the middle of the room until everything was uncovered and ready to be used.

Then she stared at the fireplace. Wood was already laid there, and there was a flint set on the mantel to start it. She’d never done this, but she’d seen it many times. It couldn’t be that hard, could it?

She grabbed the flint and knelt before the fireplace, worrying her lip as she pondered what to do next. She scraped the steel across the flint and a spark lit. She smiled as the mechanism became clear and went about scraping and scraping, letting the sparks fall onto the wood, and yet it never caught. She was beginning to get frustrated when she heard the clearing of a throat behind her.

She peeked back to find Jonah standing there, looking around the room. “You’ve been busy, princess.”

“I thought I could help,” she explained. “Since you said you had no servants. But I can’t seem to figure out the fire.” She scraped the flint again and the sparks fell on the logs. “See?”

His mouth twitched as if he found all this entirely amusing, then he stepped up and dropped down beside her on the floor. “You’re trying to light the logs, but they’re too large. See the smaller kindling and dry matter beneath?”

She tilted her head a little closer to his and peeked beneath the wood. “Oh, yes, I see.”

“That will catch much easier.” He took the flint from her and scratched it, letting the sparks fall. Unlike when she had done it, the lighter elements beneath the logs caught. He blew on them gently and her body clenched as she recalled him doing exactly the same thing between her legs the night before. It seemed like a lifetime ago now.

She cleared her throat and tried to refocus on the fire. “That is helpful. I suppose I’ll have a great deal of practice while we’re here.”

He blinked at her. “Why?”

“Well, I’m not leaving you to wait on me hand and foot. I must try to be useful, mustn’t I?”

Something shifted in his gaze. “What if I want to wait on you hand and foot?”

Their gazes held, and for the first time since she was attacked she no longer saw the concerned protector, but the lover she’d come to long for. She swallowed hard and leaned up toward him.

“Well, I wouldn’t refuse you,” she whispered, and then brushed her lips to his.

He was perfectly still for a moment, and then he made a soft groan in the back of his throat and cupped her neck, tilting her for better access as the kiss deepened. She wrapped her arms around him, holding him closer, letting the desire she felt for him build deep within her chest, her core, her everything.

He wouldn’t allow it, though. He pulled away after far too short a time and scooted back, his pupils dilated and his breath short.

“I…I should show you the rest of the house,” he said as he got to his feet. “Such that it is.”

She nodded and her head no longer ached. Very good, considering how much she wanted to forget the events of the night before and focus on far more pleasurable pursuits. She allowed him to help her up. He released her immediately and didn’t touch her again as he took her through the first floor of the place, which included a small dining room, a study and a kitchen.

“I’ve sent the driver along to the village to take a message to Mrs. Williams there. She’s a widow who occasionally helped me here when I was in residence. She’ll bring supplies and come around here and there to help.”

Ilaria wondered if Mrs. Williams was a young widow or an older one, but had not the heart to ask. She simply nodded to acknowledge what he’d said.

Then he took her up the backstairs and into a hall. “There’s a drawing room there,” he said, pointing to a closed door. “And then the one…the one bedchamber.”

“Oh,” she said softly. “Just the one?”

He nodded. “It has always been my bachelor residence. I thought maybe in the future the drawing room down the hall could be transformed into a nursery if I ever married. But it isn’t that yet.”

She blinked. So he had thought about marriage and children, even in some distant way, in the past. She was rather jealous of that nonexistent woman and her children.

He dropped his gaze from hers. “You will have the bedchamber, of course,” he said. “And I will take the settee in the drawing room.”

Ilaria stared up at him, still seeing need in his gaze. Still seeing emotions that reflected her own. Ones she didn’t want to ignore.

She caught his hand and drew him to the door, through it. “I would rather share the chamber.”

He shut his eyes, and a ripple of emotion worked over his handsome face. Desire and duty, give and take, control and surrender. A war that she forced him to fight and hoped she would win, even though he had far more experience in battle.

“Ilaria,” he whispered.

She reached around him and pulled the door shut. “Please,” she said. “This is a gift, Jonah, this time together. I’m not letting it go, not after coming so close to losing my life last night.”

At that he opened his eyes, and desperation flashed within the gray depths. He nodded. “Very well. This place is like a fantasy anyway, and I can’t deny that I want you. Still. Always. Forever.”

She shivered at that vow and watched as he moved into the room. He pulled the sheets that covered the big bed, and she worried her lip at the way he folded the edges so the dust wouldn’t go everywhere.

“Did I…did I make a huge mess of your parlor downstairs?” she asked.

The corner of his mouth quirked into a smile. “I like your mess, Ilaria. It’s…exciting.”

Heat flooded her cheeks and she laughed. “You’re kind to say so, but I’ll try to learn. I don’t want to be a burden to you, nor to anyone who comes here to help us.”

He set the sheet aside and reached for her. His fingers threaded through hers and he tugged her against his chest. For a moment he simply stared down at her, his gaze darting over her face like he was trying to memorize the lines. Then he smiled again.

“You could never be a burden to me. Never.” He bent his head and kissed her, and she forgot everything else. All the danger, all the uncertainty, everything but the pressure of his mouth on hers and the promise of passion in the way he held her close.

* * *

Jonah’s hands shook as he cupped Ilaria’s cheeks gently and kissed her slowly and deeply. He didn’t want to rush this, even though his body declared a different intention. This whole experience was a dream now, one he would wake up from and far too quickly, so he wanted to savor every moment of it.

She lifted her hands to cup his wrists, a little sound of pleasure escaping her lips as she backed up toward the bed. His bed. Their bed for a little while. In a place where he could pretend they belonged together, that this wasn’t a stolen moment.

She pulled from his kiss and looked up at him, dark brown eyes soft and pupils dilated with desire. “Don’t think about the future, don’t think about the past. Just be here with me.”

He hadn’t realized he’d been thinking so loudly, but she’d caught him. He nodded and then wrapped his arms around her. His fingers found the back of her gown, flipping each button free. He pushed her dress forward, then down around her hips between them so that it fell away. She kicked it aside as her fingers tugged at the buttons of his jacket. When it was open, her hands found their way inside, pressed to his waistcoat. Her fingers flexed there, pressure against his stomach, and it was an electric current through him, sending pleasure to every nerve ending.

This was wrong. Nothing about this had ever been right, not from the first moment he arrived in Athawick and saw Princess Ilaria holding out a hand to greet him and his heart had stuttered. Not since he saw her again and all the longing had come rushing back. Not since he foolishly let himself believe that one touch, one kiss, one night of pleasure would somehow ease this ache she caused in him. He knew now it would never end. It would stay with him forever, long after she was gone.

But none of that mattered when she looked up at him in the filtered sunlight coming through the gauzy curtains, her expression soft and welcoming. The previous evening she had asked why this couldn’t last for more than one night. And now it could.

“You’re thinking again,” she whispered.

He smiled. “I’m always thinking, I’m afraid.”

She sighed. “Then tell me what you’re thinking about and maybe we can take care of it.”

“I’m thinking that if we’re going to do this, if we’re going to let this time together be…this…then we’ll need some rules.”

“You want rules to go with how you—I’ll use the crudest terms possible, Remi would approve—how you fuck me?”

His eyes went wide at that word coming from those pretty lips. Rarely had he heard a lady use it, but it was intoxicating watching her mouth form such a vulgar word. “Yes. That.”

“Of course you do, you military men and your discipline.”

“I think you’ve benefitted from my discipline,” he murmured.

“And I’d like to again, so move along, Captain. We are wasting valuable time,” she teased.

He playfully saluted her and then stepped away. As he spoke, he shed his jacket and carefully folded it across the back of a chair before he started unbuttoning his waistcoat. “We will only be here a few days, I would imagine,” he said, and laid his waistcoat on top of the jacket.

She swallowed. “Er, yes. I assume so. This is a desperate measure taken by my brother because he isn’t sure what to do next. But he’s too clever and strategic not to work out a plan within short order and demand my return, both so he can control how I am protected and to move forward his plans for me.”

Jonah heard the bitterness in her tone and hated how helpless she felt. How helpless he felt.

“So we must assume,” he continued, untying his cravat and slowly winding it around and around his neck to loosen the long swatch of fabric. “That we will have limited time together. We must carefully plan what we will do with it.”

She tilted her head. “What I want to do, Jonah, is stay in this bed and just…pretend like things won’t change. Pretend that we could be like this forever.”

His fingers fumbled as he moved to drape the cravat with the other items he’d already removed, and it fluttered to the floor instead. He made no move to pick it up.

“That is fine with me,” he said softly. “More than fine. I can easily protect you if I’ve got you pinned to my bed, screaming out my name.”

She swallowed. “Exactly. I’ll be very obedient in that situation. And since we won’t be inviting anyone else in…correct?”

He snorted out a laugh. “While that sounds intriguing, I think it best just to have it be the two of us.”

“Very good. Then we won’t have any problems with outsiders threatening us. Unless that widow you mentioned, the one who cleans and cooks for you a bit, is the jealous type.”

He cocked his head. “The lady, Mrs. Williams, is old enough to be my mother. Were you jealous?”

She folded her arms. “Had the widow in question been a beautiful young woman who was offering solace to a handsome former captain of the Royal Navy? Yes, I suppose I can admit that I would have been jealous.”

The sense of pleasure that admission granted him was enough to make him focus on what he’d been doing once more. He unbuttoned his shirt slowly, taking his time because Ilaria had begun to squirm and he liked watching that, especially when she was only clothed in a short chemise.

“So we are agreed then,” he said. “You and I will spend this small amount of time we have been granted exploring all the pleasure we can manage.” He tugged the shirt over his head and she caught her breath, clutching her hands together in front of her. As he draped the shirt with the rest of his clothes, he let out a long sigh. “But Ilaria…”

She shook her head. “Don’t say ‘but Ilaria’…not like that. Not like you’re about to tell me something horrible while you stand here looking like a statue in a garden.”

He shut his eyes. “If we’re going to do this, we must be honest with each other.”

Her shoulders rolled forward a fraction and she sighed. “Very well. Burst this beautiful bubble. I’m ready.”

“When your brother sends for you, when we return to London—”

“Then it’s over,” she said softly. She lifted her chin with defiance and strength. “You made that very clear last night, Jonah. I understood it then, even if I wished to escape it. I understand it now, and I think I have no choice but to accept it.”

He should have been pleased about that. Her fighting the inevitable was useless, and it had led her to danger. And yet there was no relief that she had agreed to his terms. Just a sense of loss.

One he couldn’t take time to evaluate, because she stepped toward him, looping her fingers beneath her chemise straps as she did so and pushing the thin fabric to pool at her feet. She was naked and he stared at those lush curves that he wanted to worship for a while.

“Are you satisfied, Captain, that I understand the terms of the arrangement?” she asked softly.

He forced his gaze to lift to hers and he nodded. “I believe you understand, Your Highness. But I’m far from satisfied.”

She smiled, that little wicked, knowing expression and moved the rest of the distance to him. She pressed her hands to his chest and slid them down slowly. When she reached the fall front of his trousers, she looked up at him.

“I think I can fix that,” she whispered, pressing a kiss to his chest as she unfastened his fall front and let his now-fully hard cock bounce free.