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It hurt his heart to even consider this, especially knowing how passionate Anna and her team were about what they were doing. He felt dirty, like he’d betrayed her, but if this was the only way to get the legislation through then what other choice did he have?
He adjourned the meeting and went back to his rooms, hoping the senators would find another place to make cuts—somewhere that wouldn’t break the heart of the woman who was starting to mean everything to him.
12
Eric arrived at Anna’s house that night to find an open bottle of wine and two glasses already on the table, with Anna herself nowhere to be found.
He sat down and poured himself a glass. He needed it, after a day like today. The five o’clock news had ran with the story and Anna’s quote, and he and Simon had been putting out fires all day. As a result he’d been out of touch with Anna—after he’d briefly texted her to verify that she actually had given the reporter that quote and asked to meet tonight, he hadn’t gotten the chance to talk to her further. He knew she was probably mortified about what she’d said and how the press was interpreting it. It wasn’t her fault, and he wasn’t upset with her, but it was clear she needed a bit more training on how to deal with the public now that they would be quizzing her more often in hopes of nabbing another juicy quote.
Anna strode out of the living room, pulling her hair out of its braid. She froze when she saw Eric. “I am so sorry,” she blurted before she even finished entering the room. “That guy ambushed me and I didn’t even know who he was, and I was so nervous about the whole rugby thing and so happy when he started asking me about research, which I did know how to talk about—or I thought I did—but I have no excuse. I’m so sorry. I hope your campaign can recover.”
Eric waved her to the table. “Come have a glass,” he said, and drained the rest of his. “I think you need it as much as I do.”
She sat and poured some for herself, shooting him little glances like she was still anxious. He moved his hand across the table and rested it atop hers. “Hey,” he said, “I’m not mad. And I think the campaign will be okay, or at least, as okay as it was before all this. I just thought maybe you could use a little refresher course with the small talk, that’s all.”
She blew out a breath and sat back. “I definitely could,” she admitted. “I’m still terrible at it, apparently.”
“Nah, you’re not bad at all once you get to know someone. And you’ve improved a lot since we’ve been working together. You just need a few more tips.”
She gulped down her glass of wine, and they both poured another. “Okay,” she said when half that one was gone too. “I’m ready.”
He laughed. “If you have to get drunk before you can make successful small talk, we may be doing this wrong.”
“I’m not drunk yet,” she protested. “This has thirteen percent alcohol content, it’ll take at least two glasses for me to get buzzed. I’ve tested it.”
That was so Anna, he had to laugh again. “Okay then,” he said, “let’s practice. Maybe some role playing would help. You be the reporter and I’ll be the subject.”
“Right,” she said, a little uncertainly. “So, Prince Eric, do you…have any hobbies?”
They continued in that vein as the level of wine in the bottle got lower and lower, and Anna loosened up and made some good progress in her small talk skills. Somehow, though, the conversation came back to their project.
“I’m worried,” Anna admitted. “This is my first foray into major research, and I don’t want to fail on such a large stage, with something that matters to so many people. I mean, your funding has helped a lot—but it’s also raised the stakes so much higher. It’s nerve-wracking.”
“I know what you mean,” Eric answered, staring grimly at his empty glass. “All my life, everything has come easily to me, and I loved it. I loved being the spare, the charmer, the life of the party. But now I’m being asked to help clean up my family’s reputation, and not only that, this bill means a lot to me on a personal level. And everyone’s watching, everyone’s judging me, everyone’s waiting for me to fail as a serious politician.”
“I don’t think you’ll fail,” Anna said. “I think you’re amazing.”
“You’re biased,” he accused, but with a smile.
“Maybe,” she allowed, “but you are. Everyone loves you. Even if you did fail—which you won’t—they’ll still love you. If I fail, I’ll lose my reputation, and it’ll be so much worse because that’s all I have.”
“No, it’s not. You’re much more than just your professional reputation,” he declared hotly. “You knit all those blankets for the babies at the neonatal care unit. Do you think their parents care about whether your research fails? No. They care that some kind, talented, incredibly generous woman has given their child a beautiful gift that will keep them warm for years to come. And what about Anderson, and the rest of your team? Those people love you. You know they’ll be in your corner no matter how this project turns out. You might not be the life of the party, but you’re the heart of whatever room you’re in.”
She stared at him, her eyes suddenly shining. She pushed her chair back, came around to his side of the table, leaned down, and kissed him. “Thank you,” she whispered. “That’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said about me.”
“It’s true,” he said staunchly.
“It’s true for you too,” she said. “You’re like the sun, and everyone else, they’re flowers. Anywhere you are, people are always looking to you—not because they’re watching and judging you, but because they admire and respect and genuinely like you. I genuinely like you. I always have, even at first when I didn’t want to.” She kissed him again, then sat in his lap to get a better angle. Overwhelmed by her praise, he reciprocated and deepened the kiss.
She leaned back, eyes bright with emotion, and pulled off her shirt. He eagerly followed suit. Soon they were naked and she was rolling a condom onto him, and he was holding her hips as she lowered herself onto him in the chair. She tilted her head back and gasped, a look of wonder on her face as he entered her. He remembered the fantasy he’d had long ago, imagining this very moment, but it was so much better than his daydreams ever could’ve produced: the erotic curve of her neck, the cascade of her hair against her naked breasts, the way the connection between them strengthened with every moment they spent together.
She shifted her hips, wriggling on his shaft, and he let her set the pace. She moaned, settling herself deeper, winding her hands through his hair, reaching around to palm his balls. He kissed one breast and then the other,
worshipping them. He spanned his hands across her hips, watching the awe play across her face at each sensation of this new position. He would never get enough of watching this woman try new things.
He reached down, touched her, watched her catch her breath and bite her full bottom lip. “Fuck, that’s good,” she whispered, trying out her new cursing skills, and he couldn’t help but kiss her. She tasted like wine and sex and wonder.
She lifted herself up then, grabbed onto the top of the chair behind him, and drove herself down hard onto his cock. He grabbed her hip in one hand and her hair in the other, anchoring himself, unable to stop himself from meeting her thrusts now. “Yes,” he whispered, “Anna, yes.”
