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A Royal Pain (Montrovia Royals Book 1) by Kit Kyndall, Kit Tunstall (7)

Chapter Six

Bennet was done with his physical therapy for the day, and she should probably just let it go, but she was confused why his stamina hadn’t yet improved. He wasn’t out of shape by any means, but she knew he could do better. He needed to do better to give his physical therapy his all.

She’d almost brought up the discussion while he was working out that morning, but he’d been so focused on his goals that she hadn’t bothered. He’d been like that for the last three days, and their sessions had been textbook perfect. He was doing everything she asked of him, and while he was not hitting his goals, he was certainly making progress. She should’ve been flush with satisfaction, instead of vaguely discontented by the emptiness of the time she spent with him.

How ridiculous was that? He was her patient, and it shouldn’t have affected her on an emotional level at all, other than hurting when he failed, or celebrating when he succeeded. That was second nature for her with all of her patients, but this was something different. They seemed to have achieved the aloofness she needed to be the best physical therapist she could, but conversely, it seemed to be making her own performance suffer too. She was too busy worrying about what he was thinking, or thinking about the kiss they had shared, and it was causing her to lose focus too.

In an effort to shy away from that thought, she was determined to fix whatever element kept him from increasing his endurance. She knocked on his door, but there was no answer. She opened it gingerly, since he wasn’t expecting her. If he were napping in his room though, he probably wouldn’t hear the door. She used that flimsy excuse to justify entering his room without his permission as she walked down the hallway.

At the sound of a female giggling, she froze. It was definitely flirtatious, and it should have prompted her to turn and leave immediately. It certainly shouldn’t have caused a swell of emotion in her that she refused to identify as jealousy, and she positively shouldn’t have continued walking down the hall, albeit with quieter footsteps to avoid being noticed. She certainly shouldn’t push open the partially closed door for a better view. She did it anyway, and let her hand close around her mouth as she observed the maid taking care of Bennet.

She was holding out a cut crystal glass full of some amber liquid and flirting shamelessly with the prince. He took the glass with an appreciative nod and tossed it down neatly before handing it back to her. The maid refilled it without blinking before audaciously sitting on the edge of the bed. “How else can I serve you today, Your Highness?” As she spoke, her hand drifted down his stomach.

“This will do, Letty.”

Harper clenched her teeth in anger as she watched the maid lean closer, her lower lip protruding in a pouting fashion as she deliberately brushed her large bosom against his chest. Even the demure white and black outfit could do nothing to hide just how well-endowed the maid was.

“Please, Your Highness? It would be my honor to serve you. Have I done something to displease you? You haven’t sent for me in a few weeks.”

“I’ve just been busy, and it’s nothing personal.”

Anger spread through her as she marched into the room, hands clenched in fists at her sides. “The prince has been busy focusing on his recovery. He doesn’t need any distractions, and he certainly doesn’t need you bringing him alcohol. You’re dismissed.”

The girl’s lower lip trembled, and she looked like she might actually cry. When she shot a glance at Bennet, she seemed surprised when he nodded his agreement. Harper didn’t admit that she was surprised too, having expected him to intercede and insist she leave and the maid stay.

With a new air of professionalism, the young woman got to her feet and smoothed her uniform. “Please let me know if you need anything else, Prince Bennet.” Her tone was chilly, and she didn’t even glance at Harper as she left the room, head held high.

Harper didn’t wait for her to clear the area before turning her ire on Bennet. “What are you thinking? You’re on a special diet that’s high in protein for a reason. It will help you heal faster and maintain stamina. No wonder you aren’t meeting all your goals if you’re drinking like this every day.”

He shrugged a shoulder. “Every day… Every other day. What does it matter?” There was definitely a slur in his tone, indicating he had overindulged already.

She glared as she stormed closer, looming over him. “It matters because it’s hindering your ability to recover. If you want your best opportunity for Dr. Rhodes’ treatment to work, you have to take better care of yourself.”

He shrugged again. “And if it doesn’t work? Then I’m stuck in that chair for the rest of my life. I’d rather drink myself to death.”

She let out a long sigh. “Don’t be so overdramatic. You’re alive, reasonably healthy, and you might or might not be completely able to walk again, but that doesn’t make you worth less as a person. You might have to change your future plans, but you still have a future. At least you will if you give up the alcohol and stop with the afternoon blowjobs.” She blushed as she said the words, having intended to skirt around the issue of his dalliances with the maid.

He put down the glass of alcohol, having only finished half of it while she tore into him. There was an expression on his face that was difficult to read, but there were certainly elements of amusement, and perhaps interest that was too keen. “I’m not sure I see how afternoon blowjobs will hinder my recovery, Harper. Perhaps you’d like to explain that to me?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I meant the drinking.”

He arched a brow. “Did you? Yet you still brought up the other part too, and I’d like to point out that I was in the process of refusing Letty’s generous offer.”

“Why is that?” She closed her eyes as she asked the question, realizing how revealing it was. “I mean it doesn’t matter. It’s your prerogative, and certainly none of my business. The only thing I care about is the drinking. It’s not in your diet for a reason.”

His grin was predatory. “I can give up the cognac easily enough, but I’m not sure about the afternoon delights. Maybe you’d like to assist me with that?”

“I have to go.” As she started to leave, she paused when his hand clamped around her wrist. She probably could’ve pulled free, since he wasn’t holding her tightly, but she didn’t want to. As much as she wanted this uncomfortably awkward conversation to end, she also didn’t want to take the steps that would lead her from his room. It was that perplexing need to be close to him even while knowing how bad it was for both of them.

“Since you asked, I’ll happily tell you why I was gently rejecting Letty.”

She didn’t look down, but couldn’t stop the shudder that went through her as his fingers traced her wrist in a teasing fashion. “It’s not my business.” But there was no conviction in her tone when she spoke.

He tugged lightly on her wrist, getting her to turn in his direction. “It has everything to do with you. I had no response to Letty when she made the offer. She could have put her lips around me, and I still don’t think I would have gotten hard for her. I have in the past, but couldn’t today.”

Before she could think better of it, her gaze moved to his lap, where he was clearly hard against the outline of his shorts. “You don’t seem to have that problem now.”

He grinned, looking rueful. “No, I don’t. You’re here, and that seems to be my natural state around you. It makes things awkward and inconvenient, doesn’t it?”

She nodded, still unable to speak. Somehow, she forced her gaze to move away, going gradually up his body until she could look into the purple-blue of his eyes. The sincerity there rocked her.

“You have nothing to be jealous about. Letty can offer a hundred different ways, but I have no interest these days.”

“I’m not jealous.” It was obvious to her, and certainly to him, that she was only paying lip service to the words. She didn’t mean them at all. She was fiercely jealous, an emotion to which she had no right, especially for her patient.

“Of course you are.” The mockery in his tone was tender, as was the way he tugged lightly on her wrist. There was no compulsion or force to make her join him on the bed. It was simply an invitation.

An invitation she wasn’t strong enough to refuse. With a small sigh, Harper sat on the bed, swaying closer to him, though she didn’t allow herself to touch just yet. “You shouldn’t spend the day in bed. People will think you’re an invalid.”

He chuckled, which sent a surge of relief through her. She was afraid he would take her teasing the wrong way. “I was just having an afternoon nap when Letty kindly brought me the cognac, which I was happy to see, and her invitation, which I reluctantly refused.”

“Reluctantly?” She tried to sound unaffected when she asked the question.

“Only because I didn’t want to hurt her feelings. I was serious when I told you there was no temptation there. I speak as someone with complete authority on temptation after the past few days with you here.”

“This is such a bad idea.” As she uttered the words, she leaned closer and brushed her lips against his jaw. “You should fire me.”

He frowned. “Why would I do that?” He peppered light kisses against her cheek, punctuating the words in the sentence.

“Then at least this wouldn’t be an ethics violation. I really can’t do this, Bennet.”

“How about a compromise? During the mornings, I’m strictly your patient. I’ll do my physical therapy to the best of my ability, and I’ll even try to listen to you.”

“That sounds fantastic.” She drifted higher, gently biting the lobe of his ear and eliciting a moan before she pulled away to ask, “What’s the catch?”

“The afternoons and evenings, we’re friends, possibly more, but I’m not your patient, and you’re not my physical therapist.”

“I’m pretty sure the American Academy of Physical Therapists wouldn’t view it as appropriate. There’s a clear delineation between what’s advisable and allowed, and what isn’t.”

“I did mention a compromise. This is our compromise on their stifling rules. The clear delineation can come from the time of day, can’t it?”

She shook her head, even as she nibbled again on his ear. “It doesn’t work that way.”

He moved closer, putting his arm on the middle of her back. “Let’s make it work then.”

Ostensibly, he was talking about rules and guidelines, but she was certain it was more than that. She should continue resisting and pull away, gently rejecting him and trying to return to a more professional footing. That’s what she should do, but as his mouth moved to hers, she knew that wasn’t what she was going to do.

Instead, she parted her lips and dipped her tongue in to taste him, finding a slight burn from the cognac accented his normal flavor. She shouldn’t remember exactly how he tasted, since it had been a simple kiss three days ago, but she did, and she was clearly able to contrast the difference between when he was and was not drinking. Pulling back, she smiled slightly. “I think I figured out a way to detect if you’ve been drinking or not. I’ll know if you cheat.”

His hand moved up and down her back, and his other rose to cup her cheek. “I’m a lot of things, but I’m not a cheater.”

As his mouth settled over hers again, she was certain he was referring to far more than alcohol. She didn’t know what they had forming between them, but he seemed committed to seeing where it could lead without the addition of others. Was it a promise of exclusivity? She didn’t know for his part, and perhaps she would probe further, but it certainly was for her.

She had touched him before, but that had been in a professional capacity. This time, there was no need to temper her response, or force her attention to remain strictly on his physical performance and try to blot out her awareness of him. Instead, she could surrender to the need to touch him in a far more personal and intimate way. Her hands moved over his body as their kiss deepened, and he leaned back against the pillows.

Somehow, she managed not to break the kiss as she followed, straddling him while supporting her weight on her knees. Her hands were too busy tugging at his tank top to provide any support. When she had it pushed up under his armpits, she let her hands wander across the sharp planes of his abdomen, admiring his six-pack in a purely feminine fashion that had nothing to do with appreciation for his athleticism.

Bennet’s hands weren’t docile either. One remained firmly anchored in her hair, alternating between lightly tugging and gently stroking the strands. The occasional bite of pain in her scalp only served to heighten her awareness, and she barely noticed the sharp tug when she lowered her head unexpectedly, wanting to run her tongue along the planes of his chest.

Bennet groaned, his body stiffening beneath her, when her teeth found one of his nipples, and she raked it lightly. His hand on her hip tightened, but he couldn’t hold on to her as she continued sliding downward, until her head was level with his stomach, and his hand rested on her breast. He massaged gently, testing the contours before plucking lightly at the nipple through the fabric of her T-shirt. She briefly thought about taking it off, wanting to feel his hand on her bare skin, but was more compelled to taste him than she was to strip.

She focused her attention on the waistband of his loose gym shorts, slipping it down below his waist, along with his sinfully tight briefs. At that moment, she wasn’t entirely certain where his sense of sensation ended, but she knew it wasn’t in his cock. It was upright and thrusting toward her, visibly twitching as though seeking her out. A drop of pre-cum glistened on the tip, and she couldn’t resist the urge to stick out her tongue and catch it before it could fall. It was like a small burst of salty sweetness on her tongue, and she waited for the next drop to flow into her mouth before molding her lips to his erection and slowly taking him inside her mouth.

Bennet’s hips bucked, though his legs remained inert beneath her. He groaned and arched his back, thrusting up against her as hard as he could and pushing the length of him into the back of her throat. She almost choked, but managed to control the impulse as his hips stilled, and he slowly relaxed.

“Sorry,” he said in husky tone. “I just lost control.”

She nodded, not bothering to remove him from her mouth so she could answer. She understood, and she was determined to drive him to that point again.

Harper started slowly, rhythmically squeezing her cheeks around him before she started massaging him with her tongue. Each slow inch she gained before retreating, only to conquer it again, made his face flush, and his breathing became erratic. He was soon arching his hips again and had clearly lost all thoughts of maintaining control. She sucked, nibbled, and licked until he was pulsing in her mouth, the spurts of seed hitting her tongue and sliding down as she swallowed.

When she finally let go, he collapsed against the bed as she sat up and discreetly wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. She grinned down at him, enjoying seeing him so replete. “Maybe you’re right about the afternoon blowjobs. I don’t see how they’ll do any harm to your physical therapy.”

He managed a small groan. “I’m not sure I could survive these every day and still continued to give my all to physical therapy. I think you wrecked me.”

With a purr of satisfaction, she curled close against his side and laid her head on his chest. “I’ve been told I’m pretty good at that.”

He stiffened, and his tone sounded more serious as his hand moved to her shoulder and clinched slightly. “Did Tucker tell you that?”

She frowned, sensing the playfulness of the moment was over. With a sigh, she sat up and looked down at him. “I shouldn’t have said that. It wasn’t an invitation to talk about my past or yours. I was just kidding, but the topic of Tucker is off-limits. We were engaged to be married, it didn’t work, and that’s the end of it.”

“It would be the end of it if he wasn’t right across the hall. You could take up with him again whenever.”

Annoyance surged through her, and she tried to remind herself he was in a vulnerable position, and she had inadvertently introduced the topic. For resolve, she reached out and took the glass he had left half-filled and swallowed it all in one long sip. She almost choked, despite the smoothness of the alcohol. It was still stronger than she was used to. “I’m not going to take up with Tucker again. I’m not a cheater either. Whatever this thing is between us, it’s just between you and me. I assume that’s what you want too?”

After a moment, his obvious agitation faded, and he looked mollified. “That’s exactly what I want. We don’t have to do the whole talking about the past conversation as long as it’s in the past.”

She reached forward and took his hand in hers, bringing his knuckles to her lips to brush against them. “Letty and Tucker and whoever else are firmly in our past. We might still see them, but that doesn’t mean they’re going to be an impediment between us, does it?”

He looked a little grumpy when he said, “Not for me, but I was never planning to marry Letty.”

She bit her tongue and forced a calm response. “And I’m no longer planning to marry Tucker. Like I told you before, we just weren’t good together as a couple. He’s one of my best friends, but that’s all. If we’re going to do this, and I’m going to risk my professional standing, I’m certainly not going to do it lightly, or with the thought of getting back with my ex-fiancé. My attention’s on you, and I hope you can handle that.”

He looked cocky as he leaned back farther, putting both arms behind his head so his hands cupped his head. “I’m certain I can handle it. I’m up for anything.”

She darted a gaze below his waist, where he was starting to harden again. “Don’t get up for that just yet, because we’re nowhere near that point.”

He frowned, looking disconcerted. “I thought we were going to do this thing.”

She stifled the urge to giggle at his less than graceful description. “That’s the kind of thing that we lead up to. I need to get to know you better and have a bedrock of trust before I completely share my body with you.”

He cocked a brow. “Are you trying to tell me that you’ve never had a one-night stand or just a fling?”

She shook her head. “Not at all. I don’t want to hear numbers, and I don’t want to share them, but I assure you that I don’t do casual sex, and I have to care about the person I’m with and not just be attracted to them.”

He seemed put out by her words, but didn’t argue. “I guess some things are worth waiting for. Not that I’ve ever had to wait for anything I wanted.”

“It will do you some good then. You’re already too much of a spoiled brat.”

“No one impugns my honor like that.”

Before she could tease him about using the word impugn, he had grabbed her and was tickling mercilessly. She howled with laughter as she tried to escape, wincing when it sounded like she was a braying donkey before she managed to get free of his tickle torture. She hopped off the bed and out of range, putting up a hand. “No more of that. You can throw me in the dungeon or torture me with hot wax, but no tickling.”

He grinned at her. “I thought you said we weren’t at that point yet?”

With a groan that almost covered her laughter, she shook her head and headed to the door. “I’ll see you later. I’m not getting within tickling range again just yet.”

“I’d promise never to do it again, but that would be a lie.” He put a hand over his heart. “And I’ll try never to lie to you.”

“Ditto,” she said in a thick voice, still struggling to maintain a teasing tone, while hoping to hide just how serious she was. That she was already feeling so intensely for him was worrisome, but didn’t concern her enough to make her regret the afternoon, or the change in their relationship. It might be a mistake, but it was a mistake she intended to see through to the end.

***

When she stepped out of his room, she almost walked directly into Fiona. Only her quick thinking made her stop before she collided with the other woman. She struggled for a smooth smile as she closed Bennet’s door behind her. “Hello, Miss Claremont. Did you need something?”

Fiona was scowling at her. “I needed to remind you that you’re an employee, and you have no business in this part of the castle at this time of day. You do physical therapy in the mornings with the prince. That’s all.”

Though Fiona was several inches taller than her, Harper squared her shoulders. “I know what my job is, and I don’t need the reminder.”

“Then do you need the reminder that you aren’t here to have an affair with him? I could hear you laughing in the hallway, and it’s obvious there’s more than medical care taking place between you.”

“It’s not your business.”

Fiona scowled again, moving just a step closer in an intimidating fashion. “Everything about this family is my business, and it’s my business to make it clear to you that you don’t belong. You’re just a commoner, and an American at that. You can’t be anything more to the prince than what you are.”

The reminder stung, and there was more truth to it than she wanted to admit, but she wasn’t about to think about it at the moment with Fiona watching her so closely. “I know exactly what I am to the prince, and I’m here to do my very best for him. I want to make sure he walks again, but that doesn’t mean I plan to walk down the aisle with him. So back off, please, Ms. Claremont.”

After a moment, Fiona took a deep breath and nodded before taking a step back. “Just so we understand each other than, Ms. Gaines.”

She didn’t bother with a response as she turned from the king’s assistant and made her way down the hallway, determined not to look back. She tried not to let the other woman’s words get to her, or to deflate the bubble of happiness in her that had formed that afternoon when she and Bennet had made their pact.

She wasn’t planning to marry the prince, and none of the issues Fiona had brought up mattered, did they? They were nowhere near that point, and should they reach it, would it really matter that she was a commoner? He was the youngest prince, and third in line for the throne, and she had a fairly respectable upper middle-class upbringing. It was rather like Prince William and Kate Middleton.

Well, maybe not, but either way, it was the least of her concerns at the moment. She had far more pressing matters to worry about, like ensuring she did her best to help Bennet walk again without allowing her personal feelings to interfere with his therapy, even as she let her personal feelings for him grow. It was a delicate balance, and there was no room to worry about Fiona Claremont’s concerns.

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