Bon Voyage

I had to admit that I was pretty nervous. The last time, I’d just let myself go with the flow. Now, I was all too aware of the possible expectations.

Would I be good enough for the Crown Prince of Anchy? With his title, money, and looks, he’d surely sampled Europe’s finest. Wouldn’t I pale in comparison?

I carefully knocked on the door and waited for five minutes before Jean Pierre let me in.

“I’m glad you came,” he said softly.

“Did you expect otherwise?”

“Sometimes people get cold feet around…”

“A prince?”

“An inherited title shouldn’t be the only measure of who a person is. I’d like for you to get to know me: Jean Pierre.”

“Okay,” I said, a kind of weight falling off my shoulders.

Jean Pierre poured an amber liquid into a large snifter and handed it to me. “It’s Guillaume XI, a brandy made exclusively in Anchy.”

I took a sip and felt the soft burn flow smoothly down my throat.

“It’s nice,” I said.

He chuckled at my response and said, “I should hope so. It goes for sixteen hundred dollars a bottle.”

Now, I felt stupid and gave him a nervous laugh.

“Join me on the balcony?” he said, opening the sliding door.

We sat down in comfortable bamboo chairs and admired the starry sky.

“I had a crush on the son of Lucy Forn in my boarding school in Switzerland,” Jean Pierre said, breaking the silence.

“The Hollywood actress?” I asked in surprise.

“Yes. I wasn’t sure if he would be interested but I tried my luck anyway,” he said, looking at the stars.

“And?” I asked, desperately curious.

“He broke my nose,” Jean Pierre said with a sigh. “My dad was going to press charges but I didn’t want the reason why to become public knowledge. Instead, he signed an NDA and I changed schools.”

“Fuck! And here I thought my first experience was a nightmare.”

“Will you tell me about it?” he asked.

“Hmmm, no,” I said, holding out my glass for a top-up.

“I was fourteen when we lost Didier, my brother Nico’s twin,” Jean Pierre said quietly.

I didn’t know what to say to that, so I let him continue.

“Everywhere we went, reporters, bloggers, and sensationalists demanded to know how we felt, how we were coping. I wanted to lash out, tell them to leave us the fuck alone but I couldn’t. As heir apparent, my actions were constantly scrutinized and analyzed.”

“What a horrible time to feel trapped,” I said.

He looked at me as if I had said something profound.

“My parents become emotionally distant over losing a child, leaving Nico and I with only each other for support.”

“How is your relationship with your parents now?” I asked.

“They don’t want me to go to the US because they’d miss me too much,” Jean Pierre said with a chuckle.

“So why go?”

“Because people have started to ask questions that nobody wants to answer. I need some time away to be myself.”

“Did you find a university you liked?”

“There were a couple, Hargrave is probably at the top of my list.”

“You’re kidding?! I’m studying economics at Hargrave,” I said.

“Really?” he asked in surprise.

“Didn’t you already know that from your security report?” I said, suddenly curious how much he really knew about me.

“I don’t get a file on anyone, Killian. All I know is that you aren’t a threat.”

“So…if no one is supposed to know about you, aren’t you worried about what I might say? I haven’t signed any papers or made any promises.”

“Do you want a brutally honest answer?” he said. “Don’t take this the wrong way but who would believe you?”

That statement hit hard.

“Is that why I’m really here? Because…” It all started to make perfect sense.

“No!” he said forcefully. “I told you. You’re here because you showed interest in me without knowing who I was.”

My jaw unclenched.

“Then, in the library, I watched your lips subtly move as you read your book and I’ve been wanting to kiss them ever since.”

I did not see that one coming.

“Hmmm, I’m wondering whether I should let you,” I said, gliding my finger along the edge of the glass seductively.

“I think you should,” he said, standing up and holding out his hand.

I made him wait, before getting up. I closed my eyes and pursed my lips. The moment I felt his touch mine, I quickly pulled back and asked, “Are you going to turn into a frog?”

We both laughed, as he wrapped his arms around me, and then, just like that…

I kissed a prince.

“Do you mind if we go inside? It’s getting a bit chilly,” I said, my brain flooded with oxytocin.

“Would you like to move to the living room or…” Jean Pierre left the question hanging. Was he asking for permission to take things further?

The brandy had done its job well, I was pleasantly tipsy. Should I play hard to get a little bit longer?

“How about a game?” I said, finding a spot in the middle of his living room. “I’ll take one large step toward your bedroom for every question you answer to my satisfaction.”

Jean Pierre was grinning deviously and nodded his agreement.

“Question one, how many guys have you been with?” I asked, needing to know what I was up against.

He was quiet for a moment before answering, “Five.”

Five?! That was a very reasonable number. I could at least try to make an impression as number six.

“How many have you been with?” he asked.

“If I answer, I won’t take the step,” I said, making up the rules as I went.

“Okay. Tell me,” he said. Why did he suddenly seem worried?

“Two,” I said and saw his face visibly relax. I took a large step toward his bedroom anyway.

There were only three steps left, better use them wisely.

“Have you ever slept with a girl?” I asked, wondering if he’d ever felt the need to test the waters.

“Yes,” he answered, his head tilted. Was he going to ask me the same question?

I took another large step and asked, “What is the most exotic place you’ve had sex?”

“The shower,” he answered. Okay, so pretty much vanilla.

“Last question,” he said, indicating the distance between me and the door to the bedroom.

Let me think.

Jean Pierre hadn’t moved an inch, he just stood there smiling at me. That was when it finally hit me.

“I’m not this person,” I whispered, covering my face with both hands.

He quickly closed the space between us and grabbed my arms.

“You’re trembling,” he said, pointing out something I hadn’t even noticed myself.

“I thought I could, but I can’t,” I said, averting my gaze. “This is too fast.”

“Can I admit that I feel the same way?” he said carefully.

I looked up at him to see if he wasn’t just saying it for my sake. His eyes didn’t seem to be lying though.

“I haven’t had a relaxed, pleasant evening like this in forever,” he said, pulling me in for a hug.

“Would you like to crawl under the covers and make out?” I asked. The earlier tension was now completely gone and I didn’t want to leave.

He nodded his head enthusiastically and followed me into the bedroom. We both stripped down to underwear and T-shirt and disappeared into the thick blankets.

Kissing Jean Pierre was exciting, his tongue wasn’t a fan of monotonous circling. My fingers curled through his hair, while his delicately teased my neck.

Wrapped in his strong arms, I fell into a sleep filled with dreams of what could be.