The Billionaire King’s Heir (European Billionaire Beaus Book 3) Page 5

  She closed her eyes, her head falling back ever so slightly, and Rafael felt the urge to ignore the guidelines that had kept them at arm’s length.

  He bent his head to her neck.

  There were rules. Rafael had come up with a strict set of rules for himself. They would not get physical during this time. There would be proximity—of course there would, now that Felicity was living in the palace and Rafael was trying to find his place in Hope’s life. Hugging—that was permitted. A steadying arm around the other person’s waist—permitted.

  But this?

  This crossed the line.

  There was not supposed to be any kissing. He was not supposed to be brushing his lips along the delicate flesh of her neck. Rafael pressed one kiss to the throb of her pulse beneath her skin. Felicity let out a sigh that nearly undid him then and there.

  “Oh, you can’t do that. You can’t be the only one who’s doing that,” she murmured, and then she hooked an arm around his head and pulled him down to her level. She took his earlobe between her teeth, barely applying any pressure, and sheer desire shot straight through his body and to his cock.

  “Unfair,” he said, and Felicity laughed, low and sensual. He still didn’t dare kiss her lips—he still felt those rules forming a structure around them that shouldn’t be breached—but that didn’t rule out tugging down the front of her dress a few inches to expose the line of her collarbone. It was a risk, but one he could hardly bear not to take. Still—he could not risk getting hurt. He couldn’t risk looking weak in front of the country, for one thing, and on a deeper level, he couldn’t risk his heart. Not again.

  He released her dress, pressing it up into place even while she stood there, trembling, her eyelids fluttering. They were in the playroom, which was not exactly a private space. Modesty was going to be important to maintain.

  “Rafael.” Felicity said his name, and there they went—all the rules. Or at least most of them. “Please.”

  They were done for.

  “What are you asking me?” He had to force out the words, because he wanted her so badly that it was all he could do to make himself speak. “Tell me what you’re asking for, Felicity.”

  “Kiss me.” She tilted her face toward his, and that was all the invitation he needed to take her face in his hands and kiss those pouty lips.

  Felicity was unleashed.

  She tightened her grip around his neck, adding another arm, and when he coaxed her mouth open with his tongue she made a little noise in the back of her throat.

  He tugged her over to a sofa, right there next to the table where she’d just hosted the tea party. Rafael felt blinded by how much he wanted her, wanted this. His ideas about the rules, about propriety, clamored in the back of his mind but couldn’t break through that haze. He didn’t want to break through the haze. She tasted so good.

  Felicity raised her legs and wrapped them around his waist, and the sensation was so intimate that he forgot to breathe.

  Clothes. There was the matter of clothes. Hers had to come off first, and then—

  Felicity rolled over to give him access to the back of her dress and something on the carpet admitted a horrible noise.

  That brought him back to reality. “What was that?” He searched around with one hand and came up with a small squeaking toy in the shape of a tiger. “What’s this?”

  Felicity laughed, pushing herself upright and smoothing down her hair. The mood had been broken wide open, and with more than a little frustration, Rafael tossed the toy back to the carpet. He was not enjoying the sensation of being brought to his senses, but there they were, taking a risk like this on the floor of the playroom. If anyone had walked in…

  He stood up, brushing himself off, and offered her a hand. They were in silent agreement as they walked toward the door, Felicity adjusting her clothes. Before they crossed the threshold, they both stopped, looking out into the empty hallway. Down the hall, someone spoke to another person, voices low, but close enough that a tiny part of Rafael was glad that they’d stopped.

  “That was close,” Felicity said quietly, and when he looked at her it was obvious that she felt just as hot and bothered as he did, maybe more.

  “Very close.” He wanted to say that it couldn’t continue, but she smiled at him and went out.

  It would have been a lie, anyway.

  7

  He’d been going about it all wrong, Rafael saw once his head had a chance to clear and truly process what he’d seen at the tea party. All the velvet ropes and public appearances with heightened expectations had put Felicity out of her element, and that was a miscalculation for everybody. Felicity was in her element when she was with Hope and Joy—actually with them, not separated by official duties and conflicting sets of instructions.

  Which was why he’d agreed when Felicity suggested this outing.

  The official motorcade pulled up in front of the grocery store, a family-owned business that had been in the same location in the center of the capital for a century. Hope clapped her hands as Felicity climbed out and came around to the door to get her out, flashing Rafael a nervous smile.

  “Are you sure you want to be seen grocery shopping with me? Isn’t it a little…” She wrinkled her nose. “Don’t you have people to do this?”

  He did, in fact, have people to do the grocery shopping. “Of course I do. But you’ve been doing your shopping all your life. It’ll be good for people to see it.”

  The press was waiting on the sidewalk behind a velvet rope. “Felicity!” called one man. “Was the food at the palace not adequate?”

  Felicity laughed, a big smile lighting up her face. “I want my daughter to have a good relationship with food and people,” she said smoothly. “That means we can grocery shop for ourselves every now and again.” She gave them a wave and continued into the store, where she put Hope into the seat of the cart. Rafael followed, practically bursting with pride. The sessions with Lydia had been working, and coming up with a makeshift database had helped, too. It let Felicity relax enough to give simple, direct answers that the reporters loved.

  The press wouldn’t follow them into the store—Stolvenian reporters recognized some boundaries, and shopkeepers weren’t afraid to ask them to stand outside—but they would take photos through the window. Felicity frowned. “We need to head for fruits and veggies, first thing. Hope has been turning them down at every opportunity.” She leaned down and kissed her daughter’s cheek. “It would be good if we could experiment a bit without calling down to the kitchen every other minute.”

  They headed to the fruit section, where Hope became entranced with a pyramid of oranges. “Orange,” she said wonderingly as Felicity considered the apples nearby.

  “Would you like one?” Rafael asked her.

  “Yeah!” Her little voice was like a cheerful bell, and her hand darted out almost before he could stop her. She grabbed the nearest orange, almost upsetting the pyramid. Rafael leapt into action, catching the orange rolling from the top and handing it to Hope. She squeezed it as he steadied the pyramid. It was true—life with a toddler was an adventure.

  Between the oranges and the strawberries, Hope spied a sample tray of cheese. “What that?” she asked, blue eyes huge with curiosity.

  “It’s cheese,” Felicity answered.

  “Cheese! I wanna try,” Hope said.

  Felicity was still looking for the strawberries. “Oh, I don’t know about that,” she told Hope, who immediately looked to Rafael.

  He had to admit that it felt good, the way she turned to him. They hadn’t known each other very long and Hope already knew she had him wrapped around her finger.

  He wasn’t, was he? Rafael considered this as she locked eyes with the cheese display.

  “Oh, all right,” he said, going over to get her one of the little squares. It was then that he noticed the sign—jalapeño cheddar. He already had the square in a small piece of paper in his hand, and went back to Hope. “I don’t know if you’ll like
this,” he said cautiously. “It’s spicy, because it has—”

  Before he could finish the sentence, she’d grabbed the cheese out of his hand and popped it in her mouth.

  One chew, then two…her expression changed, going from curiosity to disgust, and then she clapped her little hands over her mouth. “Spicy!” she shouted.

  “Rafael told you it was spicy,” said Felicity, laughing a little. “Here. Spit it out, if you need to.” Felicity reached over and took the paper from Rafael’s hand, getting it back to Hope’s mouth just in time to catch the half-chewed piece of cheese.

  Yes. An adventure.

  They finally ended up by the strawberries, and that was when one of the store employees took the chance to approach. Rafael had no problem with this—anytime he made a public appearance like this, everyone was vetted ahead of time—and Hope was utterly delighted when the man offered to cut up a sampling of the strawberries for them to taste. Hope watched as he cut two strawberries into quarters, handing them to Rafael in a little plastic cup.

  “More, please,” she said sweetly, and Rafael thought his heart would never recover. He put a slice of strawberry into her mouth and her eyes lit up.

  “It’s good, isn’t it?” He had a bite of the strawberry himself. They were perfect.

  Hope gestured to the cup, still with its slices inside. “Cupcakes,” she said solemnly, and Rafael knew exactly what she was asking.

  “As soon as we get home, I’ll help you make strawberry cupcakes,” he promised. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Felicity smiling again.

  Less than an hour later, they were out of the store and back at the castle. Rafael had a private kitchen in his apartments. It had gone mostly unused since he became the king, but now, with Hope perched on the counter and Felicity standing next to him, he wondered why he’d put it off so long.

  “That was a success,” he said, pouring the cupcake mix into a large mixing bowl. Felicity had set out all the other ingredients—eggs, vegetable oil, milk—while Hope played with a set of measuring cups.

  “I have to agree. I’m pretty proud of myself,” Felicity said, pretending to flip her hair back.

  “It almost made me wish we could do that more often.”

  Felicity laughed. “You don’t have time to do the grocery shopping.”

  “I know it.” But still, this felt good. This wasn’t a photo op or a publicity stunt. This was just a man enjoying his daughter—and his daughter’s mother.

  * * *

  Somehow, the afternoon got away from them. By the time the cupcakes were baked, cooled, frosted, and eaten, Hope was rubbing her eyes. They’d had another tea party gathered around Rafael’s table, this time with the cupcakes they’d baked, and one thing had led to another until it was evening.

  “Bedtime,” Felicity said, reaching for her daughter.

  “No.” Hope pouted. “Rafael.”

  He looked over from where he stood at the counter. “Did you call for me, sweetheart?”

  “Go to bed,” Hope said, and Felicity didn’t miss the way Rafael lit up at the sight of it. He was there in an instant, lifting her out of her high chair and into his arms.

  “I’ll take you to bed.” He glanced at Felicity for permission.

  “Go right ahead.” Her heart had never been so warm…and so conflicted. It was one thing to be getting the hang of royal protocol. It was another to think about maintaining it for the rest of her life. What other pressures might they face? Could she stand it if, one day, Rafael wanted to go back to being married in public and living separate lives behind closed doors?

  After he left, she stood in the empty kitchen, surveying the mess. It was all a sign of a very good time, and she hummed to herself as she filled the sink with warm water and tipped in the measuring cups one by one. This was nice, she thought to herself. It felt normal to be here, doing the dishes with all the time in the world. Plus, she’d get to lick the bowl.

  “Cleaning up?” Rafael came back into the kitchen and stepped to her side, the warmth of him evident in the air. He lifted the mixing bowl and tipped it toward the sink.

  “Wait!” she cried. “I was going to lick that.”

  Rafael met her eyes, a dancing heat in his. “Lick what, exactly?”

  “Well.” Felicity could feel the color rushing to her cheeks. “The bowl. There’s still so much delicious mix in there.”

  “Delicious mix,” he repeated, putting it back down on the surface of the counter. “You know, Felicity, if you want things to lick, there are other alternatives. Do you really want to risk your health on raw eggs?”

  “Other alternatives?” She pulled her hands from the warm, sudsy water and dried them on a towel that hung below the sink.

  Rafael leaned in and kissed her, and Felicity found herself reacting without thinking. She swirled her tongue around his bottom lip, then took it in between her teeth.

  “Mmmm. Like that. You’ve got the idea.”

  Then he was lifting her to the counter, and Felicity thought she might spontaneously combust. Rafael kissed her like he’d been waiting all day to do it and couldn’t wait another moment. He pulled back and looked at her. “You’ve got something on your face.”

  “Where?”

  “Here.” Then his mouth was on hers again, and Felicity opened her legs and wrapped them around his waist. Damn their clothing. Why did he have to be dressed? She remembered what his body had been like when they were together, all tight muscles and long lines, and her mouth watered at the memory.

  Her hands went to the front of his shirt…and she hesitated.

  “I want you,” she said simply. “Even if it’s against the rules.”

  He caught his breath. “If we do this…”

  “If we do this, it’s because we both want it, and we can still—” It was overpowering, how much she needed his body on hers. “We can still go back. We can make a new decision every day, if that’s what—”

  He kissed her again, fierce and hot. “I need you, too.”

  Rafael’s hands went to the front of her pants and he pulled her off the counter before yanking them down. He dropped them to the floor. His own belt clinked as he unbuckled it. And then she was in his arms again, being lifted back to the counter.

  Felicity didn’t have another chance to bother with his shirt.

  He spread her wide on the counter and stroked her between her legs. She was already wet, she knew that, she could feel it—but at his touch she fell into a greedy heat.

  “Please, Rafael, hurry, hurry…” She didn’t know why she was begging him to hurry. Was it because someone could walk in at any moment, or because she needed this more than she could find the words to say?

  “Wait for me.”

  He was gone and back in a small eternity, the foil packet of a condom in his hand.

  Rafael entered her in one powerful thrust, and Felicity hooked her legs around his hips. Oh, it felt so good, it felt so good to be filled this way. Rafael was relentless, taking the rhythm hard, and Felicity knew she could lose herself in this for a long time. It felt so deliciously dirty, having sex like this in the kitchen, so dirty…

  He slipped a hand between them and teased at her clit, slowing down just long enough to coax her into a shuddering orgasm, then another. Rafael followed her into his own release soon after, his hands gripping the taut flesh of her bottom tightly, his face pressed into her neck, all of those tense muscles on display.

  She held on tight long after he was done, both of them breathing hard. Rafael lifted his face from her shoulder and looked into her eyes. “That was good,” he said, still catching his breath. “That was so good.”

  “That was like it was at the beginning,” she said with a giddy laugh. “Remember that?”

  “How could I forget?” He pressed his mouth to her collarbone. “I’ve never been that happy. Until right now.”

  “I haven’t either,” Felicity said, wonderingly. She hadn’t. It had been so stressful, with moving, with the pres
s, that it hadn’t occurred to her that happiness could be found right here with Rafael.

  Maybe.

  8

  The trip to the zoo wasn’t just a trip to the zoo, no matter how much Rafael wanted it to be.

  There would be a speech, and open questions from the press. They might not take kindly to Felicity. The media reception of the grocery outing had been mostly positive, sure, but there had been a few articles questioning whether Felicity herself was a stunt. This interview needed to convince the country that Felicity was going to become queen because they were in love.

  Rafael pulled the notecard with his main talking points for the speech out of his lapel pocket and gave it another glance. Felicity didn’t seem to notice. She was talking to Hope about all the animals they were going to see at the zoo. “…bears, penguins, and rabbits…” she was saying. “Won’t there, Rafael?”

  Hope held up her worn teddy bear. “This bear.”

  “Yes, sweetheart,” he answered. “That’s a bear, too.”

  “Mr. Bear isn’t a real bear,” Felicity said with a comfortable little laugh, and Rafael was surprised to find out that he’d come to think of Mr. Bear as part of the family. Almost like a real person. Was that what parenthood was like?

  “Felicity…” They only had a few more minutes before they arrived at the zoo. “I just want to be sure you’re prepared for what’s coming.”

  She patted at his leg, still looking at Hope. “We don’t have to go over this again. I think I’ll be fine.” Then she seemed to realize that this was not a comforting response and turned to smile at Rafael. “It’ll be fine.”

  But he wasn’t sure that it would be. He’d tried to approach Felicity several times over the last week to go over the questions the press might ask, and every time, she’d deftly steered the conversation into a totally different direction.

  “It’s a different kind of appearance,” he pressed on. “Members of the media will have more access this time. Not like at the grocery store.”