James looks confused. "I’m not sure what the issue is. It appears that he was as taken with my Juliet’s charm as I am," he says, that same amused smile on his face.

  Her face gets even redder. She begins to open her mouth again, a loud screeching indicating that we wouldn't be happy with whatever came out of her mouth.

  "I suggest you go back in there and finish entertaining the Ambassador as is your duty," he says, the suggestion coming out as more of an order. “Although I would suggest keeping away from his bed. Your lackluster bedroom skills would probably do more harm to the relationship between Spain and England than anything else would.”

  "I would sleep with one eye open," she spits out, shooting me a look of such revulsion and disdain that my goosebumps pebble across my skin. She’s a lunatic.

  James turns us back around and begins to walk us away from a still seething Francesca, signaling the end of the conversation. I don’t relax until I hear the banquet hall doors close behind her.

  We walk the rest of the way back to his chambers in silence.

  Soft candles have been lit around his room and I take a moment to bask in the romantically lit room, savoring the lovely smell of James that is always present in the room even when he’s not here.

  I turn to ask James to start explaining what happened tonight, and I’m stopped in my tracks before I can say anything.

  There are many defining moments in life; I’ve had my fair share, James featuring in many of them. When his eyes met mine for the first time in that apple orchard was one of them, another when I knew I loved him, another when I lost him. The truth is, love is a puzzle piece. It either fits or it doesn’t, and we did. He became my life so easily, and with a resounding pop every other possibility vanished from existence. All of my tomorrows used to be in his hands.

  That’s no longer the case, its split up in five sets of hands now. But still the thought of losing him again . . . it’s unthinkable.

  I know though, standing in that room that’s flickering with candlelight, while he looks at me as if I’m the sun, the moon, and the stars all in one...I’ll remember this moment forever.

  “I love you,” I whisper so softly that at first, I don’t think he can hear me. I say it now, knowing that I meant it the first time I said it to him, but what I feel now with all the experiences that I’ve had… it’s made it mean more.

  It means now that I know what it means to find the kind of love that fills all of the gaps and makes you whole.

  There’s perfect silence in the room for a moment as James absorbs what I just said to him, the tremor in his lips the only signal that he heard me.

  Then...his nostrils flare. In a fractured heartbeat, he’s in front of me, his hands weaving in my hair and his mouth on mine, hot and heavy.

  One kiss is all it takes to set my soul on fire. I pull back, out of breath, and feeling out of control. I should stare at the floor, his boots, not his legs that are hardly contained in his black breeches, or his biceps that bulge as he crosses his arms in front of him.

  Every single muscle on this man is tight and thick. I squeeze my thighs together and he growls. He growls. I do it again and he’s on me again in a second. My head snaps back as his hands grip me above my waist and he hauls me up. I’m plastered against him with my fingers in his hair—every luscious silk strand. His mouth slams into mine. Bloody hell.

  Hot, sweet like wine and sexy as hell, his tongue sweeps in to taste me. Deep lashing licks to shorter strokes, and my heart leaps into next year. It’s happening. He’s finally letting me back in. I want it like I’ve never wanted anything before. I’m taking a new path and he’s leading the way. No matter what happens between us, he will become a part of me again and I’ll take him with me forever.

  He breaks away, breathless and pleading with his eyes. “Tell me to stop, Juliet.” His chest heaves beneath my hands as I run them all over him and then his shoulders, feeling the rippling veins on the side of his neck and up to his jaw. I hold him as a struggle plays out on his features and in his gaze.

  “Talk to me,” he whispers.

  I brush my lips against his. “I want this.”

  He groans his agreement and tugs on my dress, trying to figure out how to loosen the bodice. He finally pulls on the right thread and the dress slides down my shoulders and then down my arms until it falls to the floor. Left in practically nothing, I wonder what he’s thinking.

  (James)

  “Tell me to stop and I will.”

  I give her a chance to end this game, to stop the madness, because she needs more time or maybe I do. “Say no or push me and it’ll be done.” Juliet comes to a standstill, reaching forward for my fists and placing them on the very thin strings of something that barely covers her perfect arse. A contraption that I’ve never seen but that makes me want to order a million more to be made for her.

  Her smile is devious. “I like your hands on me. I will like them even more when I can feel them there tomorrow.”

  On the tip of her toes, she presses her lips to mine, watching me as she always has.

  “Don’t be gentle. Be mine.”

  “Hell.” I groan and lean in to devour her mouth.

  Without hesitation, she opens to let my tongue fight with hers. There is no thinking, no planning; I want her mouth everywhere, and so it is, sucking my lips, my jaw, my neck, and then she falls to her knees. She trails her hands down my chest as her teeth pull at the waistband of my breeches.

  I warn her with a look, my head tilted with a small shake—don’t do this.

  She smiles.

  She fucking smiles and tugs until I spring free. I change my stance, opening my legs so she has access everywhere, and my hands slide into her hair.

  “Okay?” I ask, and clench my eyes shut because her answer is to put her mouth on me, flicking her tongue in a way that would put any Parisian whore to shame. I try not to think how she became so skilled.

  She takes me in, sucking so hard that when she pulls away, I let out a growl. She does it again. This time her moan vibrates around me, and my body starts to tremble. I don’t deserve her, and I tell her that as she continues to perform magic.

  “Juliet,” I moan her name in warning. I’m embarrassingly close.

  I’ve fantasized about what it would be like to feel her, to be this close to her. It’s been a dream that’s been repeated every night since she was gone, torturing me with images of what could never be. I’m still having trouble comprehending that she’s really here. The urgent swipes of her tongue, the way her delicate touch dances across my body has me on edge.

  Desperation comes out in the punch of my hips. It’s too soon. I’ve wanted to be with her for so long that I can’t remember what it feels like to not want Juliet. Now that it’s happening, I’m certainly not going to let it be over this soon.

  I tug her hair to pull her up although it takes everything in me to stop her from continuing her perfect ministrations. I bend to take her mouth, her tongue, and strip her bare at the same time.

  I have her in my arms and our kiss goes on as we stumble to the bed. In seconds she’s on my silk sheets, hands above her head, a step up from the floor which is where we nearly landed in our frantic need to touch and lick skin. Juliet sighs, as if this is the exact position she’s dreamed of: naked, spread out before her King, with the shredded evidence of her beautiful dress on the floor.

  “What do you want, baby?” I ask, sinking to my knees as I stare at her laying there—as regal as any queen. She moans and arches, her hand falling from its grip on the sheets to stroke my hair.

  “You—all over—everywhere.”

  “What do you want?” I ask again, unable to not torture her now that I have her displayed before me in such an enticing tableau.

  Her nostrils flare and she sucks on her bottom lip, biting it as she stares beseechingly at me.

  “You.”

  “I’m already here.”

  “No.”

  She drops her hand, making sure my eyes follow it as it makes its way steadily down her body. My groan blends with hers as I watch her. I feel drunk on the perfection that is Juliet.

  “I don’t want mere kisses. I want you to lose yourself. Make me know I belong to you in every way—in this way.”

  My eyes burn into her and over her decadent body—rounded curves, flushed, ripe and full—trying to hold on to the one thing she’s asked me to give up: control. The beast within me shakes in triumph as I let him follow her command. My lips, and hands trail all over her body. My movements aren’t meant to tease or coax her pleasure to the surface; this is a demand for it.

  Her cries are not quiet, and I know the guards walking the corridors can hear her. With a sick, prideful satisfaction, I continue until she’s screaming. Let them know what this goddess sounds like when I give her pleasure.

  I talk to her. “Is this what you want, my perfect Juliet?” My movements pull out a litany of fragmented pleas, and I do everything I can to push her over the edge.

  “Please.”

  “Please,” she says again—as if I would let her suffer with the misery of want. I’d give her anything even after all that has happened.

  I finally sink into her. It’s beyond anything that I’ve ever imagined. Better than anything I’ve ever felt.

  We move together, finding a rhythm that I know is unique to us. I don’t know how I’ve lived without this my whole life. “I’m . . . yes, please, please, please,” she says, writhing beneath me in a jerked cadence. She arches beneath me, pulling my hair and pressing her lips to mine, she screams as a wave passes over her.

  Her orgasm only seems to spur her on. She’s in a mindless race beneath me with her head thrown back and her hands in my hair.

  It’s amazing.

  I grab her hips to push and pull her faster, harder. What have I done to deserve this woman? The tables have turned, and she’s the one commanding me. She’s now the lion, and I’m the sacrificial lamb. She’s fierce, intense as she finds a frantic pace, back and forth. Finally, she looks up, recognition dancing in her eyes and her spontaneous smile.

  “So good,” she whispers.

  It’s too much, she’s too much—the pace, her hips, the clench she has on me, it’s the sweetest torture that I’m going to give in too soon—it’s too soon, but it builds in my spine.

  “Juliet,” I pant, breathing in deeply to try and hold myself back.

  Throwing my head back, I close my eyes and think about all of my responsibilities, the looming danger of Spain...anything, but nothing can stave off the pleasure I’m feeling.

  I groan and open my eyes. She’s beautiful beneath me, flushed and glowing with a light sheen of sweat. I pull her hands above her head and hold them in mine, slowing us down as I do so.

  “There is never an end to us, my sweet Juliet,” I tell her, and I’m gratified to see a tear trail down her cheek at my words.

  From the first moment she spoke to me in that orchard, when I heard the strong lilt of her voice, I knew I would need to hear it for a lifetime.

  I need her like I need air to breathe. The sigh that meets mine and her serene smile belong to me. I won’t let the past determine our future. It won’t work that way for us. No one, nothing will ever take her away from me again.

  “Tell me how you feel,” I order.

  She swallows and shakes her head. “I . . . so good.”

  Arching up, she moans. “So good.” She grabs my neck when I begin to tease her, dipping in over and over until she growls and tugs my chest against hers, no separation from her mouth to mine. A blush stains her chest and cheeks. Her mouth parts, her eyes widening in surprise. Everything stills: her fingers in my hair, her legs around my arse, and her shoulders and arms stiffen. She breaks apart again. Arching her neck, she turns her face away as spasms roll through her frame and clench around me in an almost painful grip.

  “Oh, Juliet,” I moan against her neck, pressing my teeth against her neck. “Yes, baby. Give me everything, all of you.”

  When she relaxes, murmuring her appreciation, I lose myself in her body, bucking wild, deep frantic thrusts that drag the heat down my spine and expel it in a rush of hot, desperate satisfaction that threaten to tear me apart. I collapse on top of her, spent and thoroughly taken by the woman I never thought I would see again.

  I could care less about the state of the Kingdom, about anything else at all beyond the woman that’s underneath me. We’re tangled up, sweaty, and perfect.

  “Let’s stay like this forever, with you on top of me,” she says, scraping her fingers through my hair. “And with me loving you more than I did when the sun met the sky this morning.”

  I lean up to find her mouth, threading my fingers through her curls and pulling, kissing her with what I hope is a lasting intensity.

  “I begin and end with you, Juliet. There is no separation from my soul to yours. Even if you wake alone, I am with you,”

  I murmur into her lips.

  “Don’t underestimate the power of my love.” She hums and runs her nose along mine.

  I just want this to last forever. I’ll never be satisfied with anything, or anyone else.

  The whisper of my dream tickles my mind. In it, a gaping hole grows bigger until I can’t see James on the other side of it. The memory suffocates the happiness out of my lungs, and I wake up with a gasp, a sense of uneasiness rushing all over me.

  James wraps his arms around me, his chest to my back with his chin resting on my shoulder as we’re tangled together.

  “What’s wrong, my sweet Juliet?” he asks in a rough, sleep clogged voice.

  “Just a bad dream,” I whisper. “I have a lot of those.”

  “Go back to sleep. Everything is alright, my love,” he says, his words fading out as he drifts back into a deep, satisfied sleep.

  I wish everything was alright. Tonight was perfection, but I want more. It’s an enticing thought, the word more. And it’s also problematic; who I really am, and the fact that I also love four other men is currently a complication I’m not certain how we can overcome.

  I turn around so that I can watch James sleep. When would the end come? He opens his eyes as if he can feel me watching him. He stares back at me intently. He inches closer until our lips are just a whisper apart.

  He’s truly a beautiful man.

  But beyond the chiseled godlike masterpiece of his face and body, he’s the real deal. Under the crown lies a sweet vulnerability that the world doesn’t see, but I do. Looking into his eyes, my heart shreds into pieces because I’m not certain that I see a happy ending for us, not matter how much I want it, or how much I try... My curse and my past will ruin the possibility of more with James.

  “Juliet,” he sighs, reaching for me. I fall into his chest and my nose meets his neck. Breathing him in, I melt into his hard lines.

  “Don’t leave me.”

  His whispered words are a mirror of my thoughts. I might not have a choice.

  Chapter 7

  I wake up, my body feeling a languid laziness that speaks to a soul that is slightly more put together than it was before. It’s the same feeling I had when we made love. Like pieces of myself have left my body and latched on to his. It’s an otherworldly sensation.

  His eyes are open when I turn to look at him.

  "I'm ready," he murmurs to me, brushing a kiss across my eyelids as we face each other, only an inch apart.

  It takes me a second to understand what he’s saying. I quickly come back down to earth when I realize that he’s ready to talk. At last.

  Nervous energy shoots across my body as I remember Liam's reaction. The phone call that really set all of this in motion. I take a deep breath.

  "What if I told you that it hasn’t been six years since I left you. What if I told you that it’s actually been hundreds of years and several lifetimes?"

  "What are you saying, my love?" he asks gently as he softly pulls a piece of hair away from my face.

  "I'm saying that I was taken from you, not by someone, but by time itself," I respond as I begin to tremble, my voice begging him to believe me.

  He pulls away from me, looking angry. "You can tell me the truth. I won't be mad at you, I'm just glad that you're back," he says frustratedly.

  I sit up on my knees in front of him, clenching my hands together like I was in fervent prayer. And maybe I was, I was praying just for once that someone would believe me.

  "I’ve been to the future. I've seen countries rise and fall. I've been to a place called America. It’s a whole empire that will eventually rise up across the seas."

  I rush on and on, trying to give him so much detail that he has no choice but to believe me. I tell him about airplanes and cell phones, and spaceships that fly to the moon.

  He rolls away from me and gets off the bed stiffly. "America. Men that land on the moon. Time Travel. The rise and fall of new empires. Why are you talking like this?"

  His hands clench so hard that I’m afraid he is going to explode.

  "Just tell me the truth, and we can move on,” he says desperately.

  "I'm telling you the truth,” I tell him beseechingly.

  I beg and I plead, but after an hour, it’s clear that there’s no way that he’s going to believe me. Everything we’ve built last night has been shattered. I hang my head dejectedly and flop down on the bed.

  He surprises me by kneeling next to where I’m now laying on the bed, tears flowing in rivulets down my face. His face has somehow become devoid of anger.

  "My love, it seems like you believe that this happened. Maybe you hit your head and it was all a dream. Maybe you’ve been in one of those...those long sleeps, whatever they're called, for the past six years and you’ve just now found your way back to me. I'm sorry I didn't find you,” he says gently.

  I sigh. “Liam didn't believe me either," I say absentmindedly.

  An all-encompassing jealousy flashes across his face and he pulls away from me as if he’s been stung.

  "Liam," he spits out. "Why didn’t you just tell me you left me for another man,” he says angrily, pulling at his hair in an anguished way.

 

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