Royal Bachelor Read online

  He knelt in front of her and pressed his mouth to her hipbone. The fabric melted, revealing her bare skin, and he kissed her again. The dress fell away, unwrapping Alice like a gift.

  When Alfred looked in on him, the door opened to a loud party and noisy dance music. Luke bolted upright and threw pillows and curses at the intruder. When he realized it was Alfred who woke him up with his inconsiderate racket, Luke unceremoniously leapt from the bed determined to cover his cousin in pummeling blows for breaking off the dream.

  “Go back to your party. I have to get up early tomorrow!” He shouted as Alfred made a hasty retreat.

  At six a.m. he was no longer sleepy. He sat in bed remembering two things he had promised Alice.

  One, that she need only ask and he’d tell her the truth.

  Two, that she’d always be the first to know.

  He nodded to himself and vowed to keep both promises for as long as she’d be in his life. He didn’t know how he could do it or how it would be possible. No one was supposed to know of his visit to the States. He came here as a stranger and would leave that way. Perhaps Alice would make things easy on him; she might tire of his stuffy manners or mysterious past. She may abruptly ask him to never visit her again or reveal that she was secretly married or engaged. Perhaps he would slink back to his island with his secrets and wounds, and maybe one day when Alice was old and tired she would realize she had dined with a prince.

  As he swung his legs to the floor, he was gobsmacked by the realization that right now, just now, he couldn’t imagine Alice out of his life. He’d never felt like this before. He hardly even knew her, aside from the fact that she was an unabashedly critical reader, easy to laughter and hard to please if you didn’t ask for permission first.

  While he struggled to imagine his own life without Alice, he was at a loss as to where she would fit in. He could still feel the edges of his dream, where she glimmered in a cotton-candy gown that melted under his tongue. But could he uproot her from her home? He certainly couldn’t rule a country from a Lower East Side apartment. They had no future. They had nothing…except for the heady connection when their eyes and skin met.

  He showered, rinsing away the cynicism and fatalistic conclusions. He was wrong. They did have something; they had the present. He would live entirely within that small, delicate bubble. He would share it with Alice.

  When he got out, his phone had only just stopped ringing. Who would call him at this hour? His mother knew he’d still be in bed. He picked up his phone and checked the messages. No emergency flags there. Everything was fine. His mother had told him to never dread. It only attracted what you dreaded.

  The missed call was from Jules, a sneering and proud relic passed down from his father. The old man probably misdialed and called his phone instead of Alfred’s. Jules had a habit of doing that and proudly declared himself a Luddite, unwilling to adapt to technology. Luke usually put his phone on silent against it. But last night, he’d been so full of Alice he’d forgotten pretty much everything else.

  Alice made him forget, but not in a mindless way. She also made him think.

  Like what she said about society’s misconception that things we enjoyed doing weren’t jobs at all. Luke didn’t like any of his ‘jobs’. But then, he hadn’t really given himself a chance to like them either. When her eyes sparkled at his mention of children and young adults, something had ignited in him, a spark of passion for those foundations he sat in. Even the one for horses looked not as dull. They deserved happy lives as much as anyone else.

  For the first time in years Luke actually felt powerful. His work was not simply monotonous meetings regarding bureaucracy and budgets, but it balanced people and lives in his grip. He had the power to give them education and happiness, or deny them that.

  He met Andres downstairs at the vestibule. Luke smiled. Andres looked startled before smiling back.

  “Thank you for recommending Otto. We loved it.”

  Andres nodded. The man wore a jacket over his pajamas and was clutching a tray of bagels and coffee. He squinted as though he had forgotten to put in his contact lenses. Probably still not awake.

  “Where are you off to at this hour?” Andres asked just as Luke was opening the front door.

  “Mass.”

  “Oh.” And now Andres smiled. “I go to a ten o’clock Spanish Mass with my abuelita. I’d invite you but…. You look happy about going to your Mass, huh? Meeting someone?”

  “Yes,” Luke said. He waved and left, feeling better after having a more cordial encounter with his neighbor. Without the command of respect that his name gave him, Luke had to earn it around New York. He was beginning to see why his mother suggested he go abroad in the first place.

  The way to Alice’s street was indelibly etched onto his brain. He half-jogged, half-walked there. The streets were oddly deserted in the quiet early morning. Alice was waiting at her doorstep, hands around a thermos of something warm. When she stood up, she took his breath away.

  She was wearing a simple outfit of bright colors. She had a flouncy apple green skirt that billowed from under her stylish lavender pea coat. The puffed sleeves of her coat made her look young and innocent, as did her wide eyes and rosy winter-chill lips. It was the first time he saw her legs. They were clad in patterned knit stockings that were such a warm cream color he imagined them to be her real skin. The legs curved in a milky swoop to the ankle boots that matched the bead pendant at her throat. A green knit beret sat rakishly on top of her curly head, making her both adorable and alluring at once. They also changed the tint of her eyes, bringing out the green hue he hadn’t noticed before. In the sunlight, her hair had textures of silver-white and auburn-red.

  “You’re a color palette this morning,” he said, meaning more than her clothing.

  “I like colors.”

  “I’m sorry I’m not wearing any.”

  She pretended to scrutinize him and his grey shirt and black slacks. “You’ll do.”

  From the slight flush to her cheeks, he understood that she really, truly approved. He agreed. Grey and black suited him. Luke resolved that he’d probably be wearing a lot more of it these days so he’d be sure not to clash with Alice. When he stepped forward to take her arm he caught scent of the hot apple cider in her thermos and his knees softened. That was the smell, that was his Alice.

  She walked fast. Speed walking did great things to the sway of her skirt. Luke liked it. She walked purposefully, charging through rather than intentionally swinging her hips, as was the wont of Elmeran women lingering at court.

  “Religion is nice, isn’t it?” she said as they passed other churchgoers dressed up on their way to places of worship.

  “Yes, it is,” Luke murmured distractedly.

  “Some aspects anyway,” Alice replied.

  “Yes, I know, I remember you being against the outdated aspects.”

  She grinned.

  They arrived at the church in a blur, with time to spare. Alice sat down at the third pew from the altar.

  “Where do you sit when you go to Mass?” she whispered, unbuttoning her coat and removing her hat. She had a pretty white blouse with a lace-collar around her throat. Luke felt a rather un-catholic impulse grip his body but he let it pass.

  Her question was tricky. The few times his family went to Mass with the public, they sat in the royal pews—curtained off because the gawking distracted his father to a temper.

  “I sit at the front,” he said. He’d always tell her some form of the truth, wouldn’t he?

  “Me too. Well, as near the front as possible. They usually save the first two pews for more important people, like nuns.”

  A trio of boys sat in front of them, not nuns but brothers, by the look of them. The eldest was a solid-looking and blond prepubescent. The other two were near each other’s age, likely seven and eight, blond and brown-haired, about the same height; they both wiggled and vibrated on either side of their older brother.

  Alice leaned
over again to whisper, “I like it when this happens. Bored kids in Church is one of my favorite things to watch. You’ll see, it’s entertaining.”

  Oddly enough, to Luke it was. The boys’ parents either preferred to sit somewhere else or the boys were simply sent to attend Mass alone. It was up to the eldest to keep his brothers in line. He did a good job of it. But when they stood up for the Gospel, the smallest brothers whispered for a second, and then subtly maneuvered to sit together for the homily.

  When they all stood up again, the little brother fiddled with his back pockets, and then fiddled with his brother’s. When he discovered buttons on his brother’s pockets, his hand went back to his own, and the boy seemed disconcerted that he didn’t have buttons there. His hand went back to his brother’s back pockets and began to pull at the button.

  Luke almost laughed aloud. He shook with silent mirth instead and Alice elbowed him good-humoredly. She was also stifling laughter.

  The brown-haired boy got tired of his brother pulling at his pants. There was squirming and elbowing. And then their older brother separated them and stood between them again.

  Luke exchanged a grin with Alice. He thought about the committee he sat on deciding how much money to spend on child welfare and education, and he briefly imagined these boys as Elmerans. Luke began to feel powerful, though Alice’s smile still made him utterly weak.

  For the Lord’s Prayer, the two boys were beside each other again, and the brown-haired brother tried to hold hands with his brother, but the blond was holding a grudge for being denied in fiddling with the other’s buttons. Alice was biting her lip and trying to sing without grinning. Luke had to tear his gaze away and back to the altar.

  Her hand was so soft in his. The moment froze and felt like a premonition, a promise.

  They kissed each other on the cheek for the giving of peace. The boys were polite and turned all around nodding to the parishioners before kissing each other as well, the blond and brown-haired younger brothers making up just like that. Alice giggled soundlessly. Luke kissed her on the forehead again.

  Only when they knelt down for the Eucharist did he let go of her hand.

  “Stop looking at me, I’m trying to pray here.”

  Luke nodded obediently, smiling, and bowed his head.

  Mass ended and he and Alice watched the boys run toward the choir. Their parents were there.

  Everyone around them was shaking hands and kissing each other’s cheek. Luke gazed at Alice, who was looking up at him with a sparkling smile in her eyes. His fingers traced the inside of her wrist and he reached out with his other hand to touch her hair.

  “Did you like it?” she asked, regarding the Mass.

  “Why do you ask? Is this our second date?”

  She laughed. “It’s Mass! Why do you ask?”

  “Well, neither of us has eaten anything with onions or garlic this time,” Luke said, cupping his hand to the side of her jaw under her ear and moving his face toward hers.

  Perhaps there was a space of time where she could have pulled away, or perhaps Luke moved too quickly. But he wanted her; he needed to show her that she was more to him than a friendly native showing him the sights. He laid his lips on hers and it was every tired cliché known to man, and not. It was lovely, she was lovely—no—she was perfect. Luke couldn’t believe he’d waited this long to kiss her. He couldn’t imagine stopping either. This was heavenly, and he hadn’t even done more than touch his lips to hers.

  It was a chaste kiss, but it lingered in such a way that he could feel her body relax under his, her chin tilt upwards and angle so as to welcome more of him.

  When he lifted his head, he was almost a little disorientated.

  And so was she. She was clutching his shirt, leaning onto him. Good. He liked to think that their relationship wasn’t one-sided. He wasn’t used to being the weaker one.

  He didn’t know how long he simply looked at her, taking in her face, her eyes, counting four freckles that have sprouted on her right cheek. And then he said, “Did I break any rules as to kissing and dates?”

  She shook her head, regaining her own space and blushing as she looked around if they’d attracted attention. But the parishioners were all out the door by then.

  “No?” he prodded, grinning.

  “No,” she said, mockingly glaring at him. “But you—you don’t kiss me again like that without asking first. You have no right, not yet.”

  “Like what?”

  She half-laughed, half-glared. “Come on. Let’s have breakfast.”

  “Onion bagels?”

  They laughed together. He loved her voice; the sound of her laughter was even more divine. He took her hand and was relieved when she accepted it. It was all right. Alice was hard to read, but he knew she would tell him if he upset her. He didn’t like walking on eggshells around her, wondering if he could kiss her again or not, but he was entranced by her mystery. He followed her through the streets of New York.

  Chapter Eight - Alice

  Their first kiss. In a church.

  Sometimes—very rarely when her mind had absolutely nothing else to think about—she did wonder if the reason why Justin ‘switched’ was because she hadn’t given him anything. Oh, she’d flirted right back and made all the right responses to his sweet messages on the phone, but the most she had given him was a peck on the cheek, and even that wasn’t special, because she kissed everyone on the cheek. She didn’t even hold hands with him. She just didn’t find him that attractive.

  It was as if their romance was segregated to the phone. It was in text messages and calls that they acted like they were together, but in person, Alice had unconsciously erected this fence around her, daring him to make a leap.

  He made a leap, all right, to another fence entirely.

  Luke, on the other hand... She hadn’t even called him on the phone, not once. She didn’t feel as though she were playing a role or acting out a ready-made script. With Luke she felt dynamic and alive. She felt like Alice. And she wanted Luke. She wanted to let him keep going and see what sorts of fire he could provoke in her, but he was like a strong drink and she knew she had to take him in slowly.

  His cousin’s home number was still with Marsha and Alice hadn’t asked for Luke’s cell phone number, and he hadn’t asked hers. Instead, he asked to see her.

  And then he kissed her. Just like that. She was angry that he hadn’t asked but angrier with herself, because a part of her knew she would have turned her head and avoided him. She was afraid of Luke and the power he held over her heart already. Now she had tasted him and he was nothing like the college friendly encounters or half-assed second dates she’d had before. He tasted right.

  Her heart was still drumming like it wanted to burst free of her ribcage. She hoped her hand wasn’t sweating while he was holding it. Their fingers were interlaced; there was no space between their palms. If her hand sweated, it would be pure science, not emotions. She’d tell him that.

  Gods, she sounded ridiculous even in her own brain.

  “What on earth are you making that face for?” Luke asked.

  Alice kicked herself inwardly. “Nothing.”

  “Can I kiss you again?”

  “No.”

  “Why not?” he asked, leaning over so that his nose was two inches away from her face. She flicked that nose. He went back to his own personal space, laughing.

  He was devastating. It was so unfair that he was tugging and tugging at her heart so easily like this. Soon, much sooner than she’d like, he’d break all the knots protecting her heart and it would be completely at his mercy. Then he would break it. It was almost inevitable.

  “I want to see your house,” Alice said suddenly. “A house tells much about the man who lives there. You can feed me there. Or should we buy take-out? I imagine you two don’t have food in the house, unless your cousin has a girlfriend who looks after—”

  “It’s my cousin’s house. Not mine. I refuse to be judged through my cousi
n—”

  “I won’t be doing any judging. You’ve lived there for at least a little while, haven’t you? I want to—I want to see—”

  “How I live?”

  “Well, I don’t have anything to grasp, really. If you worked here, I could learn something about you from your work ethic and what you do away from work but—”

  “But right now I’m away from work, so to speak, so you need to see where I live?”

  “Yes, but only if you want to. You can ignore me; I know it sounds domineering and invasive—”

  “No, it doesn’t. Not to me.”

  “What does it sound like?”

  “Smart. All women should do what you’re about to do.” He squeezed her hand. “Of course, some men probably take care that their rooms are properly staged, you know? No evidence of—”

  “Am I about to see it then?”

  “Sure. But we do have to buy take-away. Why do you call it take-out? It’s food, not rubbish.”

  Alice laughed. “Is your room staged?”

  “No, I didn’t have the foresight. But I think we haven’t even called cleaning services yet, so be warned.”

  “You have a cleaning service for your apartment?” Alice asked. She was only surprised because she did the same. She remembered Luke’s carelessness with cab fare and his ease at dropping extra money on a special bottle of wine at dinner. He had a blithe and assured quality that she recognized from her parents: he was comfortable.

  They ordered sandwiches from Alice’s favorite deli, and then Luke called a taxi to take them to Lower East Side.

  “Have you taken the subway yet?”

  He looked truly uncomfortable for the first time since she’d met him. “I don’t do well underground.”

  Alice smiled and nudged him. “I don’t do well in the dark. I have this irrational fear of blindness. I take eye health supplements. You see these glasses? The lenses are unbreakable and have every protective coating you can think of, especially UV-block.” She shoved them smartly up to the bridge of her nose, but Luke wasn’t laughing.