Chapter 2

The beauty of the lake was soothing to Angelina's frazzled nerves. She'd been cranky and out of sorts the entire day, snapping at her sisters and unable to concentrate on even the simplest of needlework. An afternoon nap had helped ease some of the tiredness, but her waking hours had been filled with urges and lusting needs that she had been unable to control, appease or even totally comprehend.

Finally night had fallen and her dream prince had returned, to row her across the lake to the glittering castle in the distance. If only all her dreams were this nice.

Dante studied his princess as he rowed. The dark circles under her eyes were clearly visible against the slightly paler than usual skin tone, the stress obvious in her face and the way she held herself. He smiled secretly, knowing it was the result of his handiwork.

He had enjoyed last night immensely and had no intentions of losing the game so soon. He'd carefully laid the ground work for weeks to reach this point. Now the fun could truly begin.

So he watched intently, waiting for her night memory to return, not wanting to give her too much thinking time. As Angelina's blank expression turned to bewildered hurt, he internally cheered, but carefully kept his face neutral.

"Why?" She was almost in tears. "Why didn't you—"

Her voice caught in her throat and her eyes snapped wide as Dante's invisible hand seized her between the legs.

"It doesn't matter, little princess. We're together now." His magical fingers were tickling and teasing her as he rowed, his eyes never leaving her face.

Angelina struggled to maintain her composure. "But it ... it does matter. You ... just walked away."

"Do you think I wanted to leave you? It was all I could do to keep my hands off you and then we wouldn't have got you back to the other side in time." He let his gaze fall to the bottom of the boat, stilled his magic fingers but kept them cupping her. "I stuffed up. I thought we'd have more time before you had to go back. Now you hate me, don't you?" He dramatically slumped his shoulders, let the oars go slack in the water and withdrew his invisible hand.

"No! Oh, Dante! Of course I don't hate you!"

It was lucky for both of them that Dante had anticipated this response or Angelina's wild leap at him would have resulted in them both going in the water. As it was, the boat rocked wildly and shipped enough water to slop around their feet.

"I love you. I love you, don't say things like that!" She kissed him hard and fast on the mouth between exclamations. "I'm sorry, Dante. I thought ... I don't know what I thought."

The pent up emotion of the past twenty-four hours spilled over and Angelina burst into tears, covering her face with her hands.

Dante cradled the sobbing princess, then settled her back in her seat and retook control of the boat, rowing steadily to shore, some distance from the castle but still within the manicured gardens surrounding it.

He ran the boat up onto a small beach and helped Angelina ashore, miraculously remaining completely dry, whereas her slippers and the hem of her dress were sodden from the water sloshing about in the boat. She didn't notice, still trying to get her emotions back in order. Dante led her away from the lake and onto a path that meandered through the gardens from the castle to a small stone cottage.

Angelina was almost back in control, furiously dashing away the tears and wiping her face, wanting to appear fine by the time they arrived at the ballroom. She looked gratefully at Dante; it was so thoughtful of him to bring them to shore away from the main dock, giving her more time and a walk to calm herself.

Dante hesitated on the path, looking toward the silent, dark cottage. He had planned to go straight there tonight, but perhaps it would be better to delay a while.

He turned away from the cottage, a firm arm steering Angelina in the right direction. A dance or two should settle things, calm the princess and would only postpone his plans a short time. He smiled behind her back — anticipation adding a sweet ache he hadn't considered. Indeed, combining his plans seemed like it would work to his ultimate advantage and total enjoyment.

By the time they reached the castle, Angelina's gown had mostly dried, the damp hemline looking merely like a darker accent. Her slippers no longer squelched, but they no longer looked quite so delicate.

They danced, twirling around the dance floor, arm in arm in perfect synchrony. Angelina floated around the room, lost in the feel of Dante's strong arms guiding her.

She sighed, content in Dante's arms, and just a little excited. The memories of last night sparked a warmth within her. She wanted to feel those hands again, this time with her prince visible and attached to those deliciously devious fingers.

She didn't see the signals that flickered between him and a couple of flashily dressed noblemen who lounged around the room, watching the action on the dance floor with lazy, bored expressions. She did not see those dandies nod to Dante, their expressions coming to life as they melted into the night. She was caught in the sheer joy of being in the arms of her gorgeous partner.

The orchestra began playing a number from the previous night, a not uncommon occurrence. Some dances were far more popular than others and so their music was heard more frequently. But Angelina blushed as it began, reminding her of the previous night's dance — in the arms of a relative stranger, with Dante's invisible presence, his fingers magically toying with her as she struggled to remain calm and in control, her partner oblivious to her growing excitement.

Dante held her a little closer as he felt her change in mood and posture, concentrating on keeping his touch feather soft, almost undetectable. His magical breath flickered across Angelina's nipples, his invisible fingers teased her skin, barely touching it. He watched the flush spread across her delicate skin as he spun her around the room, to the tune from the night before — his special request.

As the dance wound down and Dante leaned in close to kiss her, suggesting softly that they find somewhere more private to continue their evening's entertainment and lightly licking her nipple with an invisible mouth, Angelina was more than ready to agree.

They left the ballroom, Dante allowing Angelina to lead him from the room into the cool night. Again the smile drifted onto his face as he imagined the feel of her arse in his hands. Her accompanying gasp turned the smile into a full grin, which quickly disappeared as she turned to face him.

"Don't, Dante. Please, someone will see."

"Not if you don't react. There's nothing to see, remember? It's magic." His eyes glinted, watching her jaw clench as he let his fingers explore.

"I can't keep this up, Dante. It's ... oh god..." She stumbled against him, composure faltering as the fingers teased across her mound and tickled around her now wet entrance.

Dante put an arm around her, leading her off the balcony and into the garden, retracing their steps on arrival. "I know just the place."

Her relief at getting out of sight was such that Angelina barely registered the light in the cottage windows. She just wanted to get inside, where she no longer had to try and pretend, where she could give herself over to the delicious sensations once again boiling within her.

Dante did notice, and again smiled. He had chosen his companions well, it seemed.

Or not. The magic died in his fingers as he ushered Angelina into the room, spying the cheery fire, the thick, shaggy white rug, the ice bucket, bottle of champagne and chilled glasses, the pile of gaily coloured cushions, the candles scattered around the room.

Damn! Could it be any more cliché? Not even Angelina would fall for this sappy display. He steeled himself for a smacked face, a tirade and a lonely, frustrated walk back to the castle. At least it wasn't a blasted bear skin — probably only because they couldn't find one at short notice. Idiots! They'd ruined everything he'd been working so patiently towards.

The softest inhalation drew his attention back to the princess. Surely not? She couldn't, could she?

Angelina was transfixed. It was beautiful, magical — the firelight flickering on the walls, reflections sparkling off the wine glasses, the luxurious rug just begging to be laid on.

"Oh Dante," the firelight made her eyes sparkle at him. "It's perfect. Did you do this?"

Be damned! She really had fallen for it! "Well, I had to make up for yesterday somehow." He tried to look vaguely sheepish. It seemed to work.

"No, you didn't. I was just silly. I should've known you weren't the 'wham bam thank you ma'am' type. A man like that couldn't have organised anything so beautiful and romantic."

He stifled a snort and watched, amused, as she attempted to sit comfortably on the rug in her evening gown, piling up the cushions and then rearranging them again and again. He didn't offer assistance, instead busying himself with stoking the fire and giving a silent thumbs-up to the two faces that peered around the door from the second room.

When he turned to her, Angelina was perched awkwardly on a stack of cushions that threatened to topple at any moment. Her gown bunched and rumpled under her and she had one foot hooked in the underskirts.

"Wouldn't you be more comfortable out of that dress, little princess?" He managed to suppress a smirk. "I don't think it's designed for casual fire-side wear."

To emphasise the point, he magically ran one hand up the inside of her leg. Angelina squeaked and overbalanced, sprawling across the rug. Dante grinned down at her. "See?"

His hand cupped her, one finger exploring, tickling and probing. The other phantom hand slid over her belly and up, to tickle and pinch one nipple as an invisible tongue began playing with the other.

Dante leaned against the mantel as his mind toyed with the princess. Now in private, away from the crowded ballroom, she made no attempt to hide her enjoyment, closing her eyes and floating along on the waves of pleasure he was producing.