Crazy Fantasy: Part 3b-1

"If you had asked me last year what I'd be doing for reading week I'd never guess I'd be spending it at Balmoral," I confess as we pull up in front of the country estate I'd only seen in pictures.

"Are you disappointed?" Wills asks, surprising me with his uncertainty.

"Not at all," I smile, enjoying the beautiful scenery that so few people get to see. "It's beautiful."

"It's better in the summer when everything is green and Dad's gardens are in bloom."

I see through his nervousness and explainations easily. Trying to reassure him, I place my hand on his thigh and gently rub.

"You're forgetting I live in the land of ice and snow. It makes it more cozy and homey. And there is so much you can do in it," I explain, putting a suggestive tone in my voice.

Getting the idea, he agrees, "We could have fun," a devilish look appearing on his face as we pull up in front of the main entrance. The doorman approaches to take the car from us after we remove our luggage from the trunk. Wills explained to me before that the staff will give us as much space as we want here. They are paid to be exceptionally discrete.

The two men refuse to let me carry my luggage in and each take a suitcase (Wills' and my own); the doorman also takes my carry-on. I send Wills a look but he just smiles at me. I know well enough to not protest in front of the staff, but I hate feeling like the weak female.

We walk up the snow-bared steps and Wills opens the door for me. I'm glad Wills didn't let me carry a bag and stop just inside the doors to enjoy the view. It is much simpler than St. James, where we stayed at the end of the summer, but, to me, it is more stunning.

"Welcome to the cottage," Wills whispers in my ear with a laugh.

"It's beautiful," I say, admiring the more ‘rustic' look of the Royals' country palace.

Wills sets down the bag he brought in and removes his coat and shoes, then offers to take my coat.

"I think, whether or not the servants are around, I'm going to be spoiled this week," I smile while Wills helps me out of my coat.

"I'm at your service," he says with a grin as he hands our coats over to the waiting butler. "Would you care for a tour?"

"I'd love one. Though I may still need a map."

Wills wraps his arm around my waist and begins to lead me out of the entry.

"Why? I don't plan on letting you out of my sight all week."

"I could enjoy this," I lean in closer to Wills, placing a bit of weight against him. He holds me a little tighter and begins to lead me around the maze of halls and rooms, explaining some of the history behind the pictures and the rooms.

"And Harry wonders why you chose to go into history," I laugh as he points out another odd fact. "You live in a museum."

"Yet another ‘advantage' of being born a prince," Wills smiles, but I can sense his dislike of the ‘museum' he lives in.

"What about me?" I question with mock-innocence, staring up at him wide-eyed.

"You, my dear," he says while turning to me and wrapping his arms around my waist, "you are a true gift, no matter my station."

Staring into his loving eyes, I blush. "Charmer."

Wills smiles. "And you love me all the more for it," he whispers as he moves in for a short, gentle kiss.

"Someone is confident," I laugh, pulling his head down for a much longer kiss.

Rather than protest my forwardness as he would have six months ago, Wills takes full advantage of the opportunity. Wrapping his hands around my waist, he bends down while pulling me up onto demi-point. I am grateful I kept up with my dancing as he holds my head close to his, a position not easily maintained without one, or both of us stretching.

"Confident, maybe. I prefer 'In love'," he wispers before Kissing me senseless.

* * *

Hidden deep in the back rooms of Balmoral, I happily take advantage of the lack of human life. Lifting Gen, just before our lips meet I whisper a correction to her statement,and proceed to show her how much I have missed having her in my arms since Chistmas.

The feel of Gen's slim body in my arms, pressed against me for support is intoxicating. The delicate perfume of her hair fills my lungs as I drown in the sweet touch of her lips.

* * *

Continued.