She had spent the entire day in her room. Praying. Hoping. Scared out of her mind at what tonight held for her. Maxwell had sent Hannah in with a new dress. It was beautiful. Soft and light. The light cream fabric set off her hair and eyes. Letting her face be the star. It flowed gracefully down every curve of her. Not tight, but enough hug from the fabric to show off her figure. And it was breathtaking.
Breathless, Maxwell smiled at her, "You look ravishing, Katherine."
She smiled, "You really think so?"
She looked every bit like a Queen. If the king couldn't see that he was blind. He took a step backward, needing to put some space between them.
"Absolutely." He cleared his throat and bowed his head. Realizing he was staring. He quickly regained his composer. "Uh, he — the king that is — wanted me to offer you any of the crown jewels to wear this evening."
"I'll wear whatever you think best."
Maxwell caught himself staring again and gave her a half-grin, "I don't think any of them would do you justice. You look perfect just the way you are."
She blushed at his flattery, "Then I don't think I'll be needing them tonight."
Maxwell gave her an encouraging smile, "He's waiting." Taking a deep breath, she nodded yet did not move. He gently brushed her hand with his, "You'll be just fine. I won't be far if you need me."
She stared at him for a moment, questioning him. "You're not coming in with me?"
"No."
That was all he offered, leaving her limbo about his motives for staying nearby but not entering. Was he simply being a good Samaritan knowing what the evening might hold — or did he have a more personal interest in her well-being?
Finally, after a long pause, she gave a small nod and stepped forward ready to meet the king for the very first time.
As Maxwell led the way, she wondered if the stories she had heard where true. If the king was indeed a womanizer. If her purpose here was only for his pleasure and if all her hopes and dreams for finding love were just that — a dream.
Finally, in the West Wing, Maxwell stopped at the large, grand oak doors and turned to her, "I will come for you in the morning." He gently pushed open one of the doors, "Enjoy your night with the king."
Katie stared at him, shaking. She was more scared than she had ever been to meet the man on the other side of that door, yet she stepped through it anyway. Maxwell called to her, "It's the second door on your left."
At the door he had indicated, she took a deep breath and knocked. A few moments passed and finally on the other side of the door she heard a familiar voice, "The door is open."
Closing her eyes, she drew in a shaky breath and eased past the open door, focusing on the soft neutral carpet beneath her feet. She took a quick inventory of the large bedroom.
A European Saint Germain sofa set collection inspired by the majestic imperial style took up a small section near the fireplace. She silently admired the Italian design enriched by the refined details and contrast offered by the hand-carved flowers in the Mahogany wood finished in a Parisian brown with blended light gold and antique silver. The special attention to detail emerge in the finishing of the fabric upholstery clearly achieved through hours of work by a trained craftsman.
Never looking up, the king sat on the sofa facing the fire, reading a book. He just sat there. Fear coursed through her. His face seemed kind every encounter she had with him...but she was terrified of the man sitting in front of her. Absolutely terrified.
He turned the page and sighed, "It's better for sitting than staring at."
Her hands shook as she gently ran her fingertips across the individual nail-head trim that lined the back before claiming the seat opposite of him.
She had never seen a sofa like this in real life, only read of them. He closed his book and watched her intensity as she admired the sofa, hands trembling and his features softened, "I know its a nice sofa, but I have a hundred more just like it."
She dipped her head, cupped her hands together, and blushed in embarrassment. "I suppose it must seem silly — my admiring a sofa of all things."
"If you like it so much, I will have a set delivered to your room."
Katie took a deep breath and let her eyes meet his gaze, "Oh no, I couldn't ask you to do that."
A chuckle rumbled through his chest, "You didn't ask me. I volunteered. There's a difference."
Katie smiled nervously, "I'm Katherine."
Grinning he laid the book down beside him, "Yes, I know. I'm Alexander. I'm glad we are finally getting to speak."
She nodded and sat there in an awkward silence staring at her shoes as he surveyed her with his glare.
She was so beautiful. He couldn't take his eyes off her. Dipping his head, he sighed, "Are you afraid of me, Katherine?"
She hesitated, stood, and walked towards the window, "Yes. A little....but I never did get a chance to properly thank you for your kindness to me. Back at the hotel, in the hall with the cart. It was you wasn't it? With the Prime Minister, when I ran over his foot. Your voice is quite unforgettable."
Arching his brow, he questioned, "That was you? So that's why Henry was being so hard on you."
She blushed and leaned down to smell the roses in the vase resting on the pedestal in front of her, "No, it was my fault. I wasn't watching where I was going."
Alexander leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, "No, you are far too beautiful for anything to be your fault."
She shook her head and turned from him again. Seeing her overcome with his flattery, his eyes soften as he smiled at her once more. She acted as though she was unaccustomed to being told the truth about her beauty, and that amused him greatly.
So much in fact that he continued to praise her, "I must say that I found it quite refreshing to see such a rare display of courage in putting Sir Henry in his place. Its a right reserved usually only for me, but I quite enjoyed witnessing you do it at the stables without a tread of remorse. I think it takes a great amount of bravery to stand up to him...so tell me, if he doesn't frighten you — why do I? I didn't frighten you in the stable. You spoke quite freely with me there, when you thought I was just a stable-boy."
At his question and the realization of what he was telling her, she jerked, startled, knocking over the vase beside her. She tried to catch it, but it was too late. The vase crashed onto the floor and shattered, splashing water all over her dress.
She dropped to the floor and hurriedly begin picking up the pieces, "I'm so sorry! I know its terribly expensive. I can replace it."
Kneeling on one knee beside her, he gently touched her hand and forced her to drop the pieces. Taking her hand in his, he helped her stand, "You don't belong down there." Her lungs stalled.
At five-six, she considered herself on the tall side, but she had to look up several inches to meet the man's chestnut eyes. She was surely to be punched. Tears swelled in hers, "I—I'm sorry."
The scent of her hair drifted upward causing his gaze to follow its long, silky waves down to the small of her back — it looked soft and luxurious and...touchable.
He brushed a strand of hair behind her ear that had fallen out of place. Gently he traced his thumb over her cheek and sighed as his gaze fell on her damaged dress.
She was so frightened, yet she wanted to kiss him.
No!
It was one thing to return his kiss; she'd been prepared for that. But it was another thing entirely to want his kiss...to desire his affections. To melt into the arms of a man who's only intent was to force her to be with him or be the cause to her death. That was another thing altogether.
She apologized, "I'm sorry about the dress." He pinned her with those intent, assessing brown eyes and whispered, "Stop apologizing."
He walked across the room and grabbed a robe that was draped over his bed. He handed it to her, "Here. Take that off and put this on. I'll step out."
She was grateful he allowed her a moment of privacy. What a grand first impression she was making...she was sure he was regretting he had ever asked her to come.
She took off her soaked dress and carefully slid on the dark charcoal cashmere robe with contrasting blue piping. And tightly tied the belt around her waist. The scent of his cologne that resided in the fabric from extensive use rifted upward. The deep, earthy scent of lavender and masculine cedar reminded her of the man who's robe she was wearing.
Alexander gently tapped on the door before reentering jogging her from her thoughts. A maid joined him and took the wet garment from her and whispered, "Congratulations, you're the first one that's been able to make him laugh or smile."
Katherine didn't know whether to take that as a compliment or not. The maid quickly cleaned up the mess with practiced precision.
Alexander placed his hands on his hips, growing impatient, "Thank you, Miss Tucker. That will be all." She curtsied and retreated from their presence.
Once the door was shut, he turned to Katie and surveyed her with his eyes. A grin tugged at the corner of his lips. She looked perfectly at home in his robe.
She turned from him, feeling the intensity of his stare. Her cheeks grew warm. He sighed, "You never answered my question."
Hands trembling, she drew in a shaky breath, "Why I'm a little afraid of you?"
He nodded, "Yes...have I ever done anything to cause you to fear me?"
She shook her head, "Well...no, its just fearing what you are capable of."
He studied her for a moment. Saying nothing. Then finally he bowed his head and sighed, "We are all capable of hurting others, Katherine."
She nodded, "Yes...but not all are as powerful as you."
He made eye contact with her. What was that in his eyes? Anger, sadness, regret? Maybe a mixture of the three? She couldn't be sure.
"For tonight..." He paused, considering his words. "Don't think of me as the king alright? I'm just a man. Just Alex."
That was a hard request, but she nodded. "Do you have any request for the evening?"
Her mouth went dry at his question and she shuddered, "I, uh...I had hoped that we might get to talk to each other awhile be—uh, before you took me to bed."
When no response was made, she turned to him. Scared. Shaking. Afraid she'd already displeased him with her simple request.
His brow was furrowed and he sighed, "What you must think of me..."
Confused, she questioned, "I'm sorry?"
He shook his head, "They must paint me to be a monster out there...and not that it hasn't crossed my mind, the truth is it's incredibly tempting — but I have no intentions of taking you to bed tonight."
She studied him, not understanding, "But I thought— "
He held up his hand to silence her. "I'm not going to lie to you. If you had been here a few years ago, I wouldn't have hesitated in doing just as you suggest but now, I want more — more than just a one night stand."
She drew in a shaky breath. Relieved.
Ashamed, he dipped his head, "Have the other women been saying they've slept with me?"
She hesitated, "Well...not exactly in those words."
He exhaled deeply and quickly made eye contact, "I promise you, they haven't." He assured her. She smiled, "I believe you."
She didn't know why she believed him, but she did. He smiled back at her, "I hope so."
She bit her bottom lip and dared to ask, "So what have you been doing with them?"
He grinned, "Interviewing...and every one of them are extremely dull and boring."
She chuckled, "Surly not all of them." He grinned, "Yes, all of them...well, all but you."
She fiddled with the belt on the robe. She felt the heat rising on her flushed face as he eyed her. Changing the subject she asked, "What book were you reading when I came in?"
He smiled and headed for the book to show her, "The History and Social Influence of the Potato. It's less boring than it sounds."
She chuckled taking the book from him and examined the cover, "Not what I imagined, but very educational. Dr. Salaman's work is quite an eye-opener and it amazes me how a simple vegetable, once considered a garbage food, had such a profound impact on humanity. Potatoes are a lot like people, you know? All being different colors and shapes with scars and bruises, yet if you peel back the skin, we are all the same underneath."
She raised her eyes to meet his. He just stood there, staring at her. Studying her and a small smile began to tug its way into the corner of his mouth. She handled the book back to him, "I'm sorry — I'm sure that was much more insight than I should have shared."
He graced her with a smile, taking the book from her, "You're, uh...you're not like the others." With a faint smile, she asked, "Is that a good thing?"
He brushed her hand with his, "It's a very good thing."
He withdrew his hand and walked across the room to a small minibar, putting some distance between them, "Can I get you a drink?"
She shook her head, "No, thank you though."
He questioned, "Are you sure? I have a large assortment. It kind of goes to waste now."
She smiled, "To be honest, I don't drink. But I do like a hot cup of cocoa or Folgers sometimes in the evenings."
He snarled.
She chuckled, "What's that face for?"
"Folgers. Who hurt you?"
At the comment, she placed a hand over her mouth as she laughed. A sound that made him want to rethink his effort to put a space between them. It was warm and inviting. A sound he was not often accustomed to.
She inquired, "Then what kind of coffee should I drink?".
He leaned back against the counter-top and wrapped his fingers around the edge. Her uniqueness and innocence in every aspect were charming. Then he had an appealing idea for any evening. Sitting in front of a fire with Katherine beside him...a cup of hot cocoa...soft jazz in the background.
She shifted her position, pulling him back to the present, and he realized he owed her a response. Clearing his throat he pushed off from the counter. "Freshly ground."
A knock cut their conversation short. He gave her an apologetic smile, "That will be dinner." Turning from her, he gave the word for them to enter with the meal.
Two servants quickly transformed the lounging area into a place for dining. Complete with candlelight. As they exited, the king gestured towards the elaborate meal set before them, "Would you care to join me?"
Katherine smiled, "I would love too." Alexander pulled out a chair for her. She smiled, "I'm not used to this kind of service."
You should be.
He kept that response to himself as she slid into the seat. He switched gears, "I don't usually have dinner in my room, but I was researching first dates and I read that a traditional first date is dinner, and a movie...but since we can't really leave the palace without being notices or without being unfair to the others, I tried to have it recreated for you. A little café a la palace."
A husky chuckle rumbled through his chest as he made the joke, setting off a pleasant quiver in her nerve endings.
"You were researching first dates?" She asked, somewhat confused.
He nodded, "Yes, I suppose that sounds silly...but I've never actually been on a date. I've never had a reason for one. All of my encounters with women have been arranged with an understanding or agreement attached."
Katherine's eyes darkened as her pulse took an unsteady leap. Women. Plural.
He had admitted earlier to past transgressions, but he didn't seem to have that agenda tonight. Perhaps that was a hopeful sign.
"No." She confessed, "I don't think it's silly. It's sweet. Did—did you do this for all of us?"
He shook his head, "No. Just you. I, uh...I know that this must all seem a bit intimating...all the ceremonies and rules. I thought that perhaps a little of something normal to you might help you relax. And allow me a chance to get to know you better."
Katherine dipped her head as she wiped a tear from her eye. The King's brow furrowed and he inquired, "Have I upset you?"
She shook her head, "Oh no, its just...no one has ever done something this kind for me before."
That comment puzzled him. He couldn't understand how a beautiful woman like Katherine was still unspoken for or how any man could resist giving her anything she desired.
She tipped back her glass and took a long swallow, giving him a perfect view of her long, slender and delicate neck and the graceful curve of her jaw.
He found himself staring.
And he continued to stare as she set the glass down and dabbed her lips with her napkin. When she lifted her chin, his lungs stalled as her jade eyes locked on his. She shifted in her seat, anxiously. "Is something wrong?" she asked.
Clearing his throat, Alexander looked down and picked up his own glass. Get a grip, Alex. She is your potential wife...a Queen. Not some girl looking to be picked up. Besides that, she's afraid of you. You really are a monster.
He gave her a half-hitched smile that set off a tingle in her stomach. "No...I was just admiring the view." At his comment, she blushed and dipped her head.
He lifted his glass to her, "A toast — to the most unforgettable woman I've ever met." Her shoulders relaxed. He was quite the charmer, but she reminded herself he was a pro at it.
"You said you were interviewing the others. Interviews usually have questions. Do you have any you wish you ask me?"
Placing his glass down on the table again, he let his weight settle into his chair, "Yes...do you feel that you could be Queen? Truly? There are many expectations. Not just from me, but the people of Gardonia and the royal court."
Carefully she folded her napkin and placed it beside her plate. "If I had a husband that loved me, then yes. I know I could handle any obstacle that we might be forced to face."
A flicker of a smile crossed his face. Then his brow furrowed and he stared at his feet, "Children would be expected. A hire and a spare at least."
"I love children." Her response was warm and understanding. It calmed him. And he felt compelled to tell her the truth, "I half to confess to you that I have had many regrettable decisions in my life. I was very weak in my own self years ago. I don't think I need to elaborate on it, but knowing that I haven't always been honorable — would you still be willing to marry a man with such a past?"
She hesitated, then fixed those green eyes on him and her gaze didn't waver, with a warm smile she assured him that her intentions were pure and of the highest standard, "Maybe I'm too late to be your first, but I am preparing myself to be your last. All I ask is that you be faithful."
Whoa!
And he'd been worried about being too direct. Blindsided, Alex took a moment to regroup. He was used to flirty come-on's, but there was something completely different in Katherine's comment. It touched him in a way no one ever had. She was willing to be what he wanted, and yet, not seeming to understand that in some way she was already everything he never knew he needed.
He wanted to take her in his arms and swear to her that he would never hurt her. That she was the only one his heart desired. But it wouldn't be proper, he reminded himself. So he promised her only this, "As do I. I want a partner in life, not a servant."
That was a lame response. He told himself. Before she could respond, he moved on, "Would your family be for the marriage or against it?" His eyes meeting her gaze.
She smiled softly, "Well you don't have to worry about crazy in-laws if that's what you are implying. My parents died when I was very young. The only family I have is an older cousin that raised me. He would be very supportive."
Grinning, Alexander informed, "Well you wouldn't have to worry about much family on my side either. My mother is the only immediate family I have, but she enjoys living at one of my other palaces in the countryside so I don't see her very often."
A lump swelled in Katherine's throat and she dared to ask, "Would she object to you marrying a maid?"
Reaching across the table, he grabbed her hand, "Katherine, I don't want you to ever call yourself that again." She sighed, "But that's what I am."
His brow furrowed and he said sternly, "I don't like the way you said it. Don't belittle yourself. That is what you did, that is not who you are. Besides, the decision is mine. If she has a problem with it, she'll get over it."
With a gentle squeeze, he released her hand and stood. Crossing the room he fiddled with an old music box. The tune of Lavenders Blue filled the room. As he turned to her again he smiled, "I believe this should sound quite familiar."
She felt her pulse increase. Standing before her, he extended his hand to her and helped her rise.
He led her over to the middle of the room and bowed, "May I have the pleasure of a dance?" Her heart skipped a beat. She curtsied deeply, "It would be my pleasure, my King."
My King. Two simple words that left him breathless. He wanted nothing more than to be hers. Fully. Completely. He was used to being called the King...but there was something completely different and personal in the way she used the term.
Taking her in his arms, Alex gazed into the face of the woman he'd hoped was destined to play a major role in his life. "I've been wanting to share a dance with you since the ball."
Suddenly and all at once, she was no longer afraid of the man in front of her. He wasn't at all as she had feared him to be. He was kind and every bit a gentleman. She felt completely and utterly safe in his arms. It felt like home.
She laid her head on his chest. Causing the speed of his heart to increase as did her own. Neither of them expected this. At the thundering of his heart, she smiled and whispered, "You have a beautiful heartbeat."
He finally released the breath he had been holding and smiled, "And you have a beautiful heart."
Her lungs stalled and he stroked his thumb over the back of her hand and he led her unto the balcony.
Meeting his eyes in the moonlight, she gently caressed his face. His stubble rough and fresh under her fingertips. He hadn't shaved today.
His gaze met hers as the moonlight danced across her face. "Katherine, I —" He hesitated. She moistened her lips, awaiting his words. Carefully he studied her, his eyes fell to the lush fullness of her lips.
He debated what his next move should be. He wanted her in the worst way. He needed her in a way he had never needed anyone. He craved her.
It was as if a war was going on inside him. He could break his promise, give in to the monster and do exactly what he wanted or he could maintain it and send her away— certain he would regret either decision.
Suddenly, it was as if a dam broke within him, and instantly protocol, regulation, and promises didn't mean a thing. With one swift motion, he wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her close to him. So close she could barely move.
Cupping her neck with his other hand, he hungrily captured her lips, kissing her long and hard. Finally sharing a kiss that had been exchanged between their eyes a thousand times before it had ever reached their lips.
It was the kind of kiss one dreams about sharing with one special person again and again for a lifetime. The kind novels are inspired by and fairy-tales are made of — but it didn't satisfy his craving, it only increased his desire to be with her.
Drawing back from him, Katherine placed a hand on his chest. Breathing heavily. Through his shirt she could feel the thundering of his heartbeat against her hand.
She had never been kissed so passionately — she wanted more, more of his kisses and more of him.
It would have been easy to give herself over to him, to allow him to take possession of her heart, but she knew better. She questioned, "Your Majesty?"
He brushed her hair, smiled, and whispered, "He's off duty.."
She chuckled, "Alex — what if someone sees us?"
"Let them see." He held her tightly against his chest as if clinging onto life itself.
Just one kiss. Sometimes that is all it takes for the heart to lose its balance. The smell of her hair, the taste of her lips, the touch of her skin — it seemed to have gotten inside him or in the air around him. It was as if she had become a physical necessity. Like he had been suffocating for years and she was the oxygen his lungs so desperately needed.
Nothing existed in the mist surrounding them but her. There were no sounds, no movement in the air. All was still and quiet. He ran his thumb over her lips. He had never wanted something, someone, so much before in his life.
He wanted to scream from the rooftops and tell her how much she was suddenly becoming to mean to him, to take her and show her — but he could only whisper, "Marry me someday."
Tears formed in her eyes. Not at all what she was expecting. She wasn't sure she hadn't imagined it. It was too sudden. Surely she was mistaken.
"What did you say?" she asked, still doubting herself.
He drew in a shaky breath, "You're the one I want, Katherine. I only hope one day I will be worthy of you..."
Worthy of me?
The brisk February wind blew through her, making her shake involuntarily. With remorse, he sighed, "Let's get you inside."
In the room, he released her and stoked the fire. Placing his hand on the mantle as he stared into the flames. Questioning if he had pushed too far or if he had spoken too soon. If perhaps he was wrong with sharing his true feelings with her tonight.
But what other choice was there? He had none. He had to make a decision and she was it. Though he had hoped in his heart she would want that too. He didn't want to force her into anything, regardless of what he wanted. If she didn't then it wouldn't matter anyway.
Perhaps he should give her an out. She shouldn't be cornered into anything. He turned to her and sighed, "I will have Maxwell come to take you to your room."
"Have I done something that displeased you?" He shook his head and hesitated as if debating his response. When he spoke, his words were slow and measured, "No, never...its just that, if you stay — I might be tempted to take things further than I should."
She smiled, playfully, "No, you're a King and you already said you wouldn't. I trust you."
He smiled ruefully, "Yes...but I am also a man — and I have a feeling you will be my weakness."
She sighed. He was right. And in her heart, she knew the truth. If she stayed, she might unable to tell him no.
With a low curtsy, she thanked him, "I have very much enjoyed my evening with you, Sire."
He took her hand, "I told you, it's Alex."
"Don't bother Maxwell. I can see myself to my room."
She turned from him and he stopped her, "Katherine." She faced him again. "I — I'm sorry if I was too forward with you out there." He cocked his head towards the balcony.
She smiled, "Did you mean what you said?"
He kissed her hand, "I meant every word."
She smiled again, "Goodnight, Alex. Thank you for a wonderful evening."