Read Chapter 7 Episode 7 - Love Beyond

"Obviously not," I breathe, frustrated. I close my eyes when the line remains silent for a couple seconds. Great, now I'm acting like a total bitch. "I'm sorry, Ida. I'm just tired... I'll see you when I land."

She sighs, heavily. "Alright."

I hang up, madder than before I called. I push down on my luggage, trying to zip it shut with the gown from the concert inside. For once, it's not working. I push and pull, turn it, but nothing works. I growl, shoving it before I give up, taking a seat on the edge of the mattress.

I'm angry. I'm upset. I'm confused. I'm frustrated, sexually... unbelievably so. I don't even feel like myself. I can't stop thinking about him, about last night. About the night we met. I'm angry I'll never have that again, never feel the connection we shared again. Which is crazy. We've known each other two days. Two fucking days.

I shake my head, pressing my lips to my swollen mouth. An arranged marriage... He doesn't want it. He doesn't want to get married.

Suddenly, there's a loud knock filling the air. I stare at the door, unmoving until there is another- and another. I know who it is.

"Mia, I know you're in there. The attendant hasn't seen you since this morning."

I stand up, rubbing my hands against my thighs as I walk towards the door. My feet shuffle at the entrance as I try to get my bearings before seeing him. However, when I open the door slowly and find him there, with Ivan behind him, I feel myself quickly begin to panic. He's in a navy suit, tailored and vibrant. My mouth seems to go dry, I can't speak.

He breathes in, pressing his lips together. "I'd have come sooner, if I hadn't had a prior appointment at Buckingham."

I shake my head but he holds up his hand. "Please, just hear me out."

I keep a firm hand, holding the door. "What is it you'd like to say, Your Highness?"

He doesn't like the formality, I know that. "Well, first, I'd like to say that I have no control in what my family wants for me. You were not the first woman I've slept with since the announcement, and that is because this marriage is not for love. It's designed to root me into my duties, since my family believes I squander my time. I took you on that trip because I was expected for a dinner with my family that she would be attending as well and didn't want to go. It was childish and I had no good intentions... until you were in my arms that morning."

He shakes his head, looking down at his feet. I stare at him, hating that my heart is de-thawing at a rapid pace.

"Last night was different, Mia... You are different. I trusted you implicitly, the moment I met you. That doesn't happen in my world. And I'm not saying that this is true love or that we are meant to be, but I'm not ready for this to end... and I... I don't think you are either. You felt what I did when we were together last night, I know it. You know it's special."

"You're mistaken," I lie, stubbornly. His brows rise.

"Am I?"

His gaze is intense, strong, and unwavering. I hold it, unable to look away. He's right... I know he's right. I don't want this to be over but what he's asking for, I can't give him. I'd be going against everything I believe in. "Am I mistaken, Mia?" he asks again, deliberately slow. It's as if I go blind. My feet practically stumble forward, despite myself. I'm still struggling to breathe as my mouth collides with his. He moans as his hands reach up immediately, clasping my jaw tightly.

Within seconds, we're moving backwards into my hotel room, shutting the door on Ivan.

...

I hear horns honk loudly from the open patio door. That and the sound of thunder and rain is the only thing helping block the tempestuous storm occurring in my brain. I raise my cigarette to my lips, realizing my fingers are shaking violently.

I'm scared. I'm sitting on a loveseat, wrapped in a sheet, hair wild and sex-crazed. We've been in bed together for hours. I truly had no thoughts but him. It wasn't until he dozed off to sleep that my mind cleared.

I'm a home-wrecker and the worst part is I don't have it in me to stop wanting him. We're so good together. When I hear him come, I feel invigorated. I feel power. I feel wanted. He makes me feel wanted, desperately so. I lift my knee to my chin, sighing. Oh Mia, you naive, naive girl.

I keep remembering the picture of them. She had her hand on his chest, they were at an unveiling of some sort. He was smiling. She has blonde hair, blue eyes. Perfectly debutant.

"This isn't one of those moments, Mia," I hear suddenly. The cigarette is removed from my hand by a pair of long, slender fingers. I look up, finding Henry coming around the couch, in briefs. He presses the bud into the glass tray, looking down at me. I stare at him.

"It is one of those moments."

He sits down across from me, onto the coffee table. "Mia."

"Don't 'Mia' me. You know what we just did is wrong."

"Yes, I know it's wrong. I know you feel used. I know you're too good for me. I know I should leave."

I close my eyes, hating the thought of it. Something in his eyes tells me he's unable to leave either. "Why is this so hard?"

He reaches for my hand. "M-Mia... Are you going to extend your trip?"

That catches me off guard. I gape, slightly. "Are you asking me to?"

He presses his lips together, but nods, exhaling. "I am."

I glance at my suitcase on the floor beside the bed. It's contents are scattered, a victim of our desperation. I shake my head, swallowing as I pull my hand from his. "I think I should still leave in a week, Henry. It's- not like this, us, can go anywhere."

He closes his eyes, pressing his hands to the glass. "And... until then?"

I look down. He stands up, moving to the spot beside me. He reaches for my hand and I immediately turn to him for comfort. I lay my head against his chest, closing my eyes as his cheek rests against my hair.

"We have one week," I whisper, resting my hand over his, going against everything I believe in.

...

I hang up, setting down my cell after having cancelled my flight. I texted Ida, too weak to call. She'd have too many questions. Henry is adjusting his tie beside me, his gaze towards the vanity.

It's late, almost midnight now. There shouldn't be anyone in the lobby to see him leave. I come up beside him, crossing my arms over my chest. He glances down at me, smiling softly. I blush under his intense gaze.

"You are- utterly beautiful."

I smile, pleased. "So are you."

"You're good inside, though. It adds to it," he adds, looking back into the mirror. I hear his own disdain in his voice. "You are a good person inside too."

He smiles, turning to me. He bends down, kissing my lips gently. "If only that were true."

He pulls back, breathing in. "I will be in Oxford tomorrow for most of the day. I would like to see you for dinner, if you're free?"

I chuckle, rolling my eyes. "I only know you here, so, yeah, you could say I'm free."

He nods, clasping my face gently. I stare up at him, until his gaze makes my stomach flutter. I look away then.

"I-I'll see you tomorrow."

After a moment, he lets go, turning for the door. "Goodnight, Mia."

"Goodnight," I breathe as he opens the door. Ivan is still there. Henry glances back, smiling unsurely as he closes the door, probably wondering why I can't move from my current location.

When I'm finally alone, I finally let myself go, breaking down into my hands.

...

We saw each other the next night, and the night after that. We even saw each other the throughout the days, usually to get into bed together. To my shame, it became easier and easier to push back just what I was doing. Between my days as a tourist, I would find the time to meet up with the youngest Prince of England.

Every experience different. There would be days when he'd be tender and gentle, days when he'd come at me full-force. And I was there, completely available for all of it.

I've grown attached, unbearably so. I wait for his call, hating every moment. I feel cheap when he leaves but can't help asking how soon I'll see him again. And it's not him. He's romantic, affectionate, devoted to me when we're together, he does nothing to make me feel this way. He never sees Annabelle. I am convinced there is nothing between them but it doesn't dismiss the fact that he is engaged to her.

Deep down, beneath the smiles, we both know this is wrong. We both know if he's caught, we'll ruin lives. Actual lives. And that weighs upon our brains, both of ours. Face against the pillow, I shiver as Henry runs his hand over the length of my back, exploring. We're in his large, elegant bedroom.

"I want to hear you sing jazz," he whispers, breaking the silence. I open my eyes, smirking.

"What?"

"You said you sang jazz."

"I did."

"Sing for me."

I roll my eyes. "Yeah, right."

"Why not?"

"Because it's been a long time."

"You sing on the daily, Mia. You were belting Pat Benatar in the shower last night."

I grin, biting my lip. "I thought you were asleep."

He kisses my spine gently. "Sing for me."

I smirk. "I have no music."

"So?"

I breathe in, nervous within seconds. "You... can't look at me then."

"Hm, that's a hard bargain... but I guess I'll give in- this time."

I swallow, trying to think of one that I won't completely botch. I open my mouth, uttering softly the lyrics to Till There Was You . I can't reach Etta Jones level, but it's a sweet song. My heart is jumping at the feel of his touch, and I begin to feel the words I'm crooning light someplace inside of me, ringing true.

I'm seeing the whole world in a different light. My bad days aren't even bad. My happy days are unreal. I barely know him. I barely know anything about him. How can I be feeling this way? I try to muster a smile. "I'm going to go."

"No, you don't have-"

"Please," Richard says calmly, pressing his lips together. Henry turns back to look at him and I take that time to grab the door, pulling it open. I hurry down the hallway, pressing my hand to my chest, sure I'm having a panic attack.

Oh no. Oh, this was bad.

...

I'm combing through my wet hair when I hear

Chapter 7 Episode 7

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