Page 28 of Her Red Hot Secret Royal Fling

For a start, things were still messy with Louisa. It wasn’t like she would ever want to get back together, but the media was still hounding her, speculating on her whereabouts, writing countless articles, buying into a reunion narrative. So many ‘close sources’ had been quoted dropping hints that the lovers’ tiff might resolve quickly. Which of course, it wouldn’t. Louisa had been emphatic about her need to leave him. “This is important, Ares. For the sake of my mental health, I have to do this. Please, if you care about me, you’ll let me go.”

What could he say to that? He didn’t want to be responsible for putting her in a position that was ruining her life. The pressure she’d been under had been immense, but he hadn’t realised how badly it had been affecting her. He’d offered help, counseling, whatever support she could make use of, but in the end, it was too late. Louisa had voted with her feet. Except, she wasn’t completely off the hook yet. Her name was still in the papers here, most days. It would be rude and callous to publicly date anyone else so soon after their breakup—Louisa deserved at least a period of grace before he moved on and began thinking about his responsibilities to marry and have children.

Things that Sofia wouldn’t ever be interested in. With anyone? Or just with him?

He stroked her naked hip absentmindedly, relishing the soft silkiness of her skin. “That tickles,” she surprised him by whispering.

“I thought you were asleep.”

She rolled over in their sleeping bag and faced him. “Nope.”

“You’re not tired?”

Her teeth grazed her lower lip. “Not really.”

He nodded, his mind racing. “Can I ask you something?”

Her eyes scanned his face. “Sure.”

“That first night?—,”

She made a sound of throaty agreement, and a smile tugged at his lips. It was burned into his memory too, as was every time they’d been together—without properly being together—since. It had been an exercise in unbelievable discipline, but also, a form of tantric foreplay. He couldn’t wait to bury himself inside of her and exalt in that closeness and fullness. Stirring to hardness, he forced himself to concentrate on the question he’d been building to ask.

“You said falling pregnant was the last thing you wanted.”

Silence weighed heavily around them. “Is that a question?”

“Did you mean with me, or in general?”

Her eyes dropped a little, shielding herself from him. He couldn’t make out her features that well, anyway. Aside from the light cast by the full moon, it was dark.

“I’m not interested in having a family.”

Having a family. It was an interesting distinction. She hadn’t just said ‘becoming a mother’, but rather, she was including a husband in there, too.

“I see.” He didn’t. The mystery deepened. “Is that something you’ve felt for a long time?”

She pursed her lips and he would almost have put money on her reminding him that they’d said they wouldn’t do serious conversations. That they’d keep things light and casual.

But then, she surprised him by glancing right up at his eyes and answering, “Yes.”

It didn’t really tell him much—like why she felt that way—but he appreciated her for not shutting him down completely. He decided to push his luck. “For any reason?”

She let out a small sigh. “People usually have reasons, don’t they?”

“And what are yours?”

Another sigh. “You really want to do this?”

“I’m not afraid.” It was a strange thing to say, and yet, it was apt. As he spoke the words, he realised they’dbothbeen acting out of fear, by trying to contain their relationship, to keep it to the purely physical. They could relax, and let things play out, whilst still knowing that this was temporary. It just didn’t have to be casual as well. “I know you’re leaving at the end of the week. And you know why I can’t offer more than this,” he pulled her a little closer to his body, enjoying the moment her eyes flared wide with desire. “But I get the feeling, that one day, when I’m old and grey, and thinking back to this time, I’ll really regret not taking the opportunity to know you. To really know you.” He ran his finger from her shoulder to her breast, lower to her nipple, which he traced a circle around with the casual possession of a devoted lover. “It doesn’t change anything, Sofia.”

She bit into her lip and then nodded, once. Tentative agreement—it was better than nothing.

“It’s not a big deal, anyway,” she said, but the tremble in her voice made a liar of her. “After my dad died, I went into a complete grief spiral. I was utterly traumatised. Not only had I lost a father I completely adored, but I also actually saw it happen. I couldn’t get the moment out of my mind. I was a mess.”

“I didn’t know,” he said, hugging her tighter, stroking her back as though he could erase that pain, touch by touch.

“He was crossing a road, and a car struck him. I was on the other side, waiting for him.”

---