Royal Bachelor Read online

  “Can I kiss you?”

  She kissed his neck. Reached up and touched her lips warmly to the skin over his pulse, as though he were an apple she was preparing to bite. He wouldn’t mind if she did.

  And then she smiled and went out the door.

  He stood there like a dolt for a few seconds before coming to and running after her. “I’ll walk you home!”

  “It’s all right, Luke. I still have to go somewhere.” She waved. He waved back stupidly.

  He went back inside the apartment with the intent of racing back to pay for the taxi but Jules was there, holding the phone.

  “Your lady mother, my lord.”

  Luke sat down on the sofa and sighed. He’d catch up with Alice later. Jules gave him the phone. “Hello, Mother.”

  “Lucian, how are you, darling? I got Jules on my side and he had the house opened with a small staff. Why aren’t you at the house yet? I was getting worried.” That was probably why Jules flew over immediately.

  “I thought the point of this was for you to not worry,” Luke stated.

  “A mother can’t help it. Go and pretend to be a pauper, but I’d really feel better if you slept somewhere safe. I can’t believe you’ve been sleeping where any common criminal or electrical fire could kill you!”

  “Mother, please. I don’t want to go to the house anymore.”

  “Why ever not?”

  “It’s a long story.”

  “Well, start it.”

  “Jules and Alfred had switched names, how’s that for a start?”

  His mother laughed. “Interesting. Tell me all.”

  Chapter Ten - Alice

  Right. Chores. Chores are good. Even when you don’t really have to restock groceries. They’re good excuses, something to grasp like a lifeline when you feel dangerously close to sinking in foolish, insensible love with a man you met a week ago and have seen only thrice since.

  Thrice! Had it only been three times that she’d seen and talked to and touched Luke?

  Good thing she got away then.

  Chores give you distance from romance and plonk you back in reality. Because Alice was most certainly living inside fantasy. Had she just let some stranger kiss her? In a church of all places? Had she spent a perfect, domesticated morning with this man, feeling natural with him as though they had been together forever? As though she knew him. But Alice didn’t know anything about Luke except that he would eventually leave her. And that he was perfect.

  Alice buried her nose in a towel while something squealed like a school girl inside her brain.

  Oh, she hadn’t done that inside her brain at all. Two sales staff had hurried over to see what she was squealing about. Face burning, she put the towel and another into her shopping cart and walked on. That was undignified.

  But she had to get it all out somehow. She felt better now. Her hands were no longer shaking. And when she went home and faced Rebecca, she wouldn’t blab like a thirteen-year-old, she’d be a picture of poise and detachment, as if she went to church with men like Luke every day. Because Alice was too terrified to admit to anyone, even her best friend that she just might be falling in love. So fast and so foolishly. Not in the way that Luke was a hopeless case, but their relationship would be. He had ties in Elmera. Ties as tenacious and important—if not more—than her roots here and in Italy.

  She could still feel his arms around her after that silly debacle with the gigantic spider. Best case scenario: Luke was the one, but then he would leave for his tiny little island, an island that didn’t have The Strand or the city or any of her friends. She couldn’t possibly go with him and so she’d have to suffer the heartbreak of letting him go. She should break it off now, save herself the heartache in the future.

  But she couldn’t stop wondering what his mouth would feel like on her collar bone or how his bare, sleeping shoulders would look in the drowsy light of morning. She was snared.

  *

  Monday at work was quiet. Mondays were always quiet at the bookstore. Alice hid in the basement level. She’d been tempted to call Luke yesterday evening after she’d held true to her own word and ended up cleaning her brownstone from top to bottom, but Rebecca had come over and asked for all the gory and glorious details and then they had a movie marathon while folding their laundry. It was relaxing and Alice decided she would need her housekeeper less often.

  Alice’s arms and legs hurt from all the cleaning she’d done. She’d slept cursing herself for not giving Luke her number. She was playing hard to get, and she was so muddled that she couldn’t decide whether it was masochism on her part or simple stupidity.

  When she got in to work, Marsha and Clay wanted news as well. And now Alice hid from everyone. They’d all seen her dragging Luke away, and they were all curious in that way reader-writers were curious. They asked too many questions she didn’t even know the answer to. Luke was a private reflection of herself that they had accidentally glimpsed.

  She was so busy wondering about Luke she didn’t notice him prowling the shelves right alongside her. At first, she groaned, her subconscious was putting him everywhere, and then he smiled at her. Alice jumped and turned to liquid at the same time.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.” He raised a finger, signaling her to wait a moment, and then he ran the length of the shelf and around it to get to her. “You were really preoccupied. Are you all right? How are you?”

  “I’m good. How are you and your cousins?” She looked around. They were quite alone here in these stacks. The usual browsers weren’t awake yet that time of the morning. Not good. It was wreaking havoc on her bodily systems. Her body had very clear ideas of what it wanted to do and her mind was tempted to capitulate.

  “Oh, they’re fine.”

  “They are fine? What about you? You’re not?”

  He laid the back of his fingers on her cheek in a feather-light caress. “Why do you look like a mouse caught in a trap? I’m not about to ravage you.”

  “You’re not?” she said again, like a parrot.

  He looked around, waggled his eyebrows at her and theatrically said in a lecher’s drawl, “Unless you want me to.”

  Alice’s brain threw up the white flag. He was wonderful. His hand slid down to cup her cheek and her own hand went up to hold his wrist.

  This time she kissed him. Her balance went into her toes, pirouetting her upward until her swan neck could reach his heights, and he met her. A voice in her head realized that something pleasurable was happening and immediately began calling for it to halt, but Alice put the voice on mute.

  He stroked and rubbed every centimeter on her lips, taking time at the corners. She opened her mouth in a sigh and he slid his tongue into her mouth tentatively. Her fingers crept into his hair, hugging him close to her body. She met him and invited him in with her own tongue. Every touch was incendiary. She was cosmically aware of his breathing, heartbeat, skin temperature, how well he had shaved that morning. She was melting inside of Luke, losing her own identity to become part of him.

  He went back to her lips, nibbling and drinking in her taste. And then back to the butterfly-soft rubs, until he gradually stopped, simply sharing her breath, their mouths still touching. She opened her eyes to find him staring at her.

  “Can you take a week off?” he whispered. “I want to spend time with you.”

  Sex, declared the nun in her mind. The independent woman inside her wanted to balk. Just like that? Just for you? And then the melted part of Alice answered, Why not? It didn’t have to be sex. She’d tried that in college and it had been anticlimactic, whereas just kissing Luke set her skin on fire. A whole week of kissing. She could get on board with that. If sex happened, by gods, she wasn’t about to complain.

  Alice had always wanted to experience her own piece of adventure instead of just reading about them in books. Whatever happened, this could be her adventure. Some gambling was always involved. It wouldn’t be as much fun without the risk, right?

&nb
sp; The only thing at stake was her heart.

  She told herself that if she played her cards right she wouldn’t lose too badly. Maybe she would break her heart but perhaps it would make a good story and she’d be able to smile about it in the end. She’d be sad, but she’d recover. It would be fine. A short story rather than a novel.

  And why did she feel some sort of urgency? Or perhaps that was just the irrational, insensible and already-half-in-love part of her mind being impatient.

  “I’ll tell Marsha. I’ve accrued a lot of vacation days.”

  Luke’s smile was blinding. “Where do you want to go?”

  “Oh, we’re going away? I thought to make you finish the cleaning I’d started.”

  He hesitated. “I wouldn’t mind. You just have to be patient. Very patient. I’m not good with cleaning.”

  Alice laughed. It was like he’d answered what she’d been thinking seconds ago. “I have an idea.”

  “I have to bring my... cousins.”

  “You should. I’m bringing my own cavalry.”

  *

  Marsha approved her leave in an instant. The city was emptying anyway, no one really stuck around after New Year’s. Rebecca was cleared for three days as well. Clay was left to moan about not being able to tag along. His mother and the rest of his family already had plans.

  This left Alice with only one thing left to do.

  “Hi, Mama. Not much news. But I’m coming to Nantucket and I’ll have Rebecca and three men with me. No, Mama, it’s not an orgy.” Alice laughed. “I know. I love you too. Mama, Mama, I’m not getting married yet. Stop that.”

  Her mother was a full-blooded Irish post-graduate education professor working steadily until Antonio Martelli swept her off her feet. She was semi-retired now with a loose schedule and whimsical office hours. While she was always prim and proper in person, she was quite insane on the phone. Not facing anyone while talking apparently loosened her inhibitions. Alice liked talking to her mother on the phone.

  So that was it. It was done. Her parents had bought a small house in Nantucket for their tenth anniversary. This would be the first time Alice was bringing someone other than Rebecca. No wonder her crazy mother had thought she was getting married.

  Please. She’d only met Luke a week ago.

  Oh, gods, her mother would go insane over that one. Bringing home a man she barely knew.

  *

  Her mother did go insane, but on the extreme opposite pole of insanity Alice had expected.

  Angela Finnegan-Martelli adored Luke. Of course, he was so charming in his European ways. Angela was probably already working out how his features would combine with Alice’s in her grandchildren.

  They’d arrived in the afternoon, just as the sun was setting and turning the water red-gold where ice floes caught and reflected the dying light. Rebecca had lost her veil of cynicism and gazed wistfully at the view. The beach was always prettier in the winter, though the winds were harsh. She did make Jules carry her bag, though. Rebecca never rested in making men feel the superiority of women, particularly when she felt she was in danger of begging the guy to take her as a slave. Jules seemed to take it all in stride.

  The Christmas crowds had long gone and all tourists had returned home weeks ago. The whole island was theirs and the beach was quiet and empty. Luke had paused as soon as he got off the ferry. Alice watched him look around. He was probably used to much better vistas and a far friendlier climate but he had a way of absorbing things as if they were new and he was utterly without jadedness. She liked that.

  “You live here?” he’d asked.

  “I usually come in the summer,” she admitted, feeling ashamed of her tourist-inclinations.

  “It’s beautiful. And you carry that beauty inside you.”

  Alice had smiled. Who couldn’t help smiling? “Keep talking like that. My mother will love you.”

  And she did.

  “Mama, tone it down,” Alice said, when Angela offered Luke more of the apple cobbler for the third time. “He’s not a prince or the last man on earth or anything.”

  Luke and Jules coughed. The older Elmeran smirked.

  “You know, I’ve been to Elmera,” said Alice’s dad. Alice looked fondly at him. It took Antonio longer to warm up to strangers, despite being Italian. He liked to watch people first, and see how they interacted with those dear to him. Luke and company had probably done right in not refusing anything Angela offered them. This was the first time Antonio spoke directly to them. He had only smiled and made general comments earlier. “Beautiful country. I’m not surprised you keep to yourselves. You’ve got everything there.”

  “That’s right, sir. But I can’t say I regret going abroad for a change of scene,” said Luke, glancing at Alice briefly before shoveling more cobbler into his mouth. Angela beamed at him and at Alice. Alice rolled her eyes and hoped she wasn’t blushing. She was getting used to Luke’s uninhibited compliments and she kept telling herself it was part of his effusive personality, nothing at all special or just for her, but she couldn’t help being pleased all the same. So pleased she had a mild ache in her cheeks from smiling.

  Chapter Eleven - Luke

  “Get to know her. Take her away somewhere. Show her who you are. And see who she is. That’s how you do it. Befriend her rather than court her. Don’t give her gifts, not material ones. Let gifts come up from your time together. Those are the most meaningful. Alfred Kilmartin Neville, I heard you snort. Lucian, ignore him. You like this girl in more ways than the usual ones, don’t you? Well, you won’t be pursuing her in the usual ways you pursued the others, then, will you?”

  Luke heard his mother’s words as he padded across the hall and saw Alice through the glass doors leading to the porch. She was wearing an oversized coat bundling her against the cold with her knees tucked to her chest and a mug of hot cider clutched in her hands. She was splendid, her dark hair being softly teased by the breeze as it escaped in wisps from under her hat. Yes, he liked Alice in more ways than the usual ones. Oh, he wanted her, but it felt so much more than that, too. He felt that if he knew her like that, he’d only crave for more rather than have his craving sated.

  She jumped, nearly spilling her drink, when he slid open the door and joined her.

  “You’re up so early,” she said, blushing and subtly checking if she’d splashed herself. Luke grinned and kissed her on the forehead, feeling the warmth of blood beneath her skin and inhaling her scent.

  “Ever since we went to Mass together, I’ve been an early riser.”

  “And before that? What time do you get up?”

  He ran his hand through her hair once and then leaned on the railing beside her, bumping her shoulder with his gently. “Around nine. I do have jobs, too, you know.”

  “Do you see that tree? I used to have a swing there. But I was much too big for the tree. Or maybe it was just because I swung like an ape. I broke my arm when the branch snapped.”

  Luke grimaced. “Which arm?”

  She gestured with her left arm, hidden and secret beneath her coat.

  “You could have gone blind. If you’d hit your head wrong or if your glasses had shattered—”

  “Don’t say that!” She punched him and visibly shuddered. He stifled a laugh and rubbed the arm she’d mangled. She certainly didn’t hit like a girl.

  “You do get on well, don’t you?” said a voice behind them. It was Mr. Martelli. Except for the height and some features softened or changed in color by the genes from Mrs. Martelli, Alice was completely his father’s daughter. Luke had felt the man’s protectiveness of his child, even if he wasn’t like other fathers who thought they could only show they cared if they threatened all men who approached their daughters. Mr. Martelli’s threat of retribution was much more subtle and all the more effective for not being voiced.

  “Good morning, sir.”

  “Come out to enjoy the cold, Daddy?”

  Mr. Martelli put an arm around Alice and kissed her on the che
ek and on the temple. “I missed you, carissima.” Luke was just about to leave them when Mr. Martelli said, “Did you offer our guest breakfast instead of punching him?”

  “Oh, I don’t think I’ll have to eat until dinner,” Luke said. “You fed me so much last night. Not that I could help it. Everything was so delicious.”

  Mr. Martelli nodded, smiling a little. “You haven’t tasted anything yet. Wait til later. If you’re not hungry, why don’t you kids take the boat?”

  It was a simple speed boat, one that Antonio sometimes used to pick up Angela whenever she’d kayak too far away from the shore. Alice insisted on steering, Jules and Alfred insisted on coming, and when Rebecca heard that she tried to invite herself along.

  “We can’t leave Alfred behind and we can’t fit that many comfortably,” Alice said. “We’ll just take Alfred and leave Jules with you, okay Rebecca?”

  The real Alfred gave Luke a grin and moved as if to follow him and Alice to the boat. He loved lording his power over the prince whenever he had to do ‘babysitting’, as he called it.

  “Where are you going?” Rebecca asked, “Jules! You’re supposed to stay here with me.” She turned to the real Jules. “Go on. I hope you know how to swim, she’s a maniac with the motor.”

  The three of them bundled up tightly against the wind and the real Jules was in charge of dispensing hot mugs of cocoa, cider and tea throughout the trip.

  “I feel like a nanny,” he grumbled.

  Alice started up the motor with a whoop and steered the boat free of the shore before increasing the speed. They had moved beyond the ice floes and out into the open space of the water. Harsh, biting wind whipped at their faces but Alice laughed into it, alive and bright. She was wearing her prescription sunglasses, double protection against the January winds.

  Luke watched her in amazement. She was free and wild, skipping the boat along little waves and executing sharp turns that brought Elmeran epithets from the normally staid Jules.

  “You’re crazy!” Luke laughed.

  “I’m safe, don’t worry about it!” she called back. Hell, of course she was safe. What was he doing? Why hadn’t he told her yet? He hoped he wouldn’t regret his stupidity.