The Prince's Bride. Lisa Laurel Kaye
on the outside. She had no thought of being the belle of the ball. Even to turn one head was too much to hope for. Just being there in the room with him was enough.
After all, every good fairy tale has a handsome prince, and Julie’s was no exception. One glimpse of him from across the crowded ballroom kicked off a frantic fluttering in her chest. She still wasn’t used to the strange and wondrous feeling she got whenever she was near Prince Erik. His very presence was magnetic. Her eyes simply couldn’t look away from him; her ears strained for the sound of his voice; her skin tingled at the thought of his touch; and something inside her felt helplessly drawn toward him, as if caught by the mysterious pull of a current in the ocean. She had no idea how long she stood there, wholly absorbed in watching his fluid movements as he danced partner after partner around the floor. She rejoiced that it was his duty to dance with the most prominent of his father’s guests, because it kept him within sight on the ballroom floor. He didn’t notice her standing there, drinking him in with her eyes. But then, there was no reason that he should.
Near the end of a song, someone jostled into Julie, and she stepped on the hem of her gown. That brought her out of her fog. She pushed the long folds of her dress out behind her, looking over her shoulder to make sure nothing had torn. Assured that all was well, she turned back around, her gaze finding Prince Erik like the needle of a compass finds north.
He was looking at her. When their eyes met, it was like a physical touch. Julie’s heart thumped so hard it hurt. She tried to take a breath but her lungs seemed frozen. Time ceased as he made his way through the crowd, never taking his eyes from her. When at last he reached her, he bowed formally.
Hours of practice in front of her bedroom mirror had paid off, and Julie executed a perfect curtsy even with jelly-filled knees.
At the sound of his voice, warmth uncurled in the pit of her stomach. “Please allow me to introduce myself,” he said. “I am Erik Anders.”
Julie’s eyes widened. Had her transformation been so complete that he didn’t know who she was? “I know,” she said, offering him a tremulous smile. “I mean, you and I…” She took a deep breath and began again. “We’ve met before, Your Highness.”
He stared at her then. “Julie? Julie Britton?”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
The shock of recognition in Erik’s deep, brown eyes told her that he had remembered her as the coltish teenager she had been the last time he’d seen her. His expression never changed, but his silent gaze made her feel all the more like the ugly duckling that had turned into a swan.
The silence began to feel awkward. Wasn’t it his turn to say something, since she had spoken last? Feeling as if she were playing a game whose rules were written in another language, Julie said, “The ball…it’s wonderful. And you dance so…beautifully.” At her words she felt her cheeks grow hot. What a stupid thing to say to a prince! And what a time to blush! She looked away, both hoping and dreading that he would excuse himself and find his next partner, leaving her in her pink-cheeked misery to watch him from afar. But the sound of his voice drew her eyes back to his.
Up close he was so heart-stoppingly handsome that it took a moment for the words he spoke to register with her. And those words were magical. “Would you do me the honor of dancing with me?” he asked softly.
She looked at him in disbelief. Could it be true? Prince Erik wanted to dance with her! All of the fervent, silent longings of her heart had come true. Almost paralyzed with nervousness, she managed to loosen her tongue to answer. “Thank you for the kind invitation, Your Highness,” she said, regaining her poise. “It would be a pleasure to dance with you.”
She placed her hand on the arm he held out to her, the feel of hard muscle under his tuxedo jacket sending a warm thrill coursing through her. As he led her onto the dance floor, a sudden panic seized her—which hand was she supposed to give him to hold? She had practiced dancing with her girlfriend Drew, but they had taken turns leading, so that both ways seemed natural to Julie. Her alarm was needless, though; his movements were so smooth and sure that without her realizing quite how it happened, she was in his arms.
With all she was feeling, it was impossible for Julie to concentrate on the steps she had practiced, but she found that she didn’t need to. Dancing with Erik seemed effortless; following his lead, as natural as breathing.
He held her away from him, as if she were both fragile and priceless. “Are you all right?” he asked.
Julie wanted to laugh out loud. Whatever she had imagined her prince might say during a dance, it was not those words of careful concern. Was she all right? It was like asking the sun if it felt lukewarm. She let her answer beam out in a smile that seemed to melt away some of his reserve. He broadened his steps, sweeping her across the ballroom, naturally tightening his embrace and pulling her closer.
Her poise gave way as a wild restlessness swirled through her, and it seemed to Julie as though she had discovered all of the wonder of life right there in his arms. The sureness of his step as he guided her, the hardness of his muscle under her touch, even the subtle fragrance of his aftershave were constant reminders to her that this was a man who was holding her—not an almost man, like the boys at school, and not a fairytale prince—a real man. And she found herself responding to him like a woman, for the first time. Her body became soft and pliant, her curves nestling against his solid muscle; her insides went warm and liquid; and she couldn’t look at his mouth without licking her lips. It was as if her body had been dormant and was now gradually coming to glorious life.
After what seemed a lifetime—or was it the blink of an eye?—the song came to an end. She looked up at Erik, and when their eyes met he pulled her closer. All around them couples were talking and walking, but amid the flow they stood like an island, silent and motionless, locked in an embrace. The intensity of the moment was almost overwhelming for Julie, and she knew instinctively that she could not be feeling something so powerful all by herself.
Strains of the next song filtered through, a slow song. Julie had no thought but to remain in his arms all night, but the music seemed to be a kind of a signal for Erik. He pulled back and excused himself abruptly, murmuring something about his duty as a member of the host family. Julie watched him disappear into the crowd, then made a sudden departure of her own, out of one of the French doors that lined the side of the ballroom.
Once outside, she gravitated toward the sanctuary of her secret place on the castle grounds, a rocky ledge above the ocean that was secluded from sight by trees. Alone at last, she clamped one hand over her galloping heart, which did nothing to stop it from carrying her, in her mind, at a breakneck pace over beautiful and terrifying new ground. And deep breaths of the brisk ocean air did not purge her feeling that one dance with Erik Anders had shifted the axis of her world forever and always.
She heard a noise behind her and turned to see a man leaning against a tree. With an easy movement, he started toward her.
It was Erik.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, taken by surprise. “Did you follow me?”
“No. I was here first.” His voice was a deep rumble beside her in the dark.
“I didn’t know anyone else knew about this place.”
“I’ve always known.”
He said no more, but just having him so near was unsettling. At last curiosity overcame her. “Why did you come out here, Erik?” she asked.
“Probably for the same reason you did.”
Her heart began to pound. She knew why she was there, and she saw her feelings mirrored in his eyes. But she needed to hear him say it, to have him put it into words. “And what reason is that?” she asked softly.
He tore his gaze away from hers and turned it to the ocean. After a pause he said, “To get a breath of fresh air, of course.”
Disappointed, Julie looked out over the edge of the rocks. She sensed that, here with Erik, she was poised on the brink of a chasm. She could take the no-risk