High School Duke

"I know he is staying here. Adakah apa yang saya apa yang saya memberitahu anda untuk melakukan! Just tell me what room he is in!"

I smiled as I gave a head nod to Harriet. It was my way of showing that at least some of her patrons were grateful for all that she does.

Harriet replied in kind, a soft smile and a slight nod in my direction before continuing with the disgruntled client before her. "I told you, I cannot give out the room number of our guests, Ma'am. I rang the room and no one responded so all I can suggest to you is waiting in the lobby or perhaps the restaurant. We do have excellent snow crab this evening."

Harriet's nod, however, did not go unnoticed.

The young woman had followed the concierge's gaze and that led her to me. Her facial expression, which was masked in anger and fury, immediately contorted into one of elegance.

An obvious façade.

I didn't give it a second thought and continued my walk through the lobby and toward the elevator. I must admit, though, now the thought of snow crab for dinner tomorrow sounded delightful.

"You're the new Duke, aren't you?"

I stopped in my tracks. I had felt bad for Harriet but that didn't mean I had wanted to deal with this person. I turned around, slowly, deliberately.

"I see you already have a bodyguard," she continued. "I have five with me right now."

Was this a competition?

I glanced around the lobby and saw the other four men in different areas, all looking out for possible threats. "Congratulations." I drew out the word, still unsure as to what to say or even what this woman wanted with me.

"You're funny," she half laughed. "I like that."

"Thanks," I responded as I eyed her curiously. "I think."

An uncomfortable silence grew between us.

"Oh, where are my manners?"

Manners? She actually has them?

The woman held out her hand at chest level, palm down, "I'm Princess Melati of Brunei."

I guess I do have a Princess coming to see me, albeit not bowing at my feet.

Though I felt the placement was high, and though I wasn't keen on touching her physically, I accepted her proffered hand, lightly, and shook it, "Dean Franklin." The Princess had an awkward expression at my action. I thought for a brief moment and then added my title, "Duke Dean Franklin."

"You were supposed to kiss her hand, not shake it, Sir." I turned to the voice to find Abigail had just come from the restaurant.

"Oh, sorry," I immediately reached for her hand, hesitated just before impact, cringed, closed my eyes, and then kissed it, barely making contact.

"I apologize, Princess Melati," Abigail shook her head at my insecurities. "We are still teaching him the finer points of sophistication."

"That's forgivable... this time," Princess Melati gave a gracious smile at Abigail. "I wish you well in continuing his refinement."

"I will do my best," Abigail smiled. "So to what do we owe the pleasure to have Princess Melati of the great Nation of Brunei, sixth in line from the throne of the fifth richest nation in the world, visit with us here today?"

"Why, my betrothal to your Duke, of course."

"Pardon?" Abigail and I spoke the word simultaneously in utter shock.

"Yes," Princess Melati continued, completely ignoring mine and Abigail's astonishment. "I have come to wed Duke Dean Franklin of Sutherland. My Father, the Sultan, has already approved."

I coughed to compose myself, but that still didn't feel like enough. "Did you say betrothal? As in marriage?"

"That is the definition of betrothal, yes," the arrogance seemed to ooze from Princess Melati.

Abigail was far better at getting over the surprise declaration than I was or at least she appeared to be, "Sir, perhaps we should finish this conversation somewhere more private. Invite the Princess to your suite."

I glanced around to notice we had a few spectators intrigued by our conversation. "Of course, you're right," I nodded my affirmation to Abigail before turning to the Princess. I thought about my choice of words for a moment; after all, I really don't want to start an International incident. "Princess Melati, would you care to accompany me to the office area of my suite so we can continue our discussion in private?"

"No," Princess Melati decreed. "We will discuss this properly over dinner tomorrow evening. Where might you be taking me?"

Me? "Uh..."

Princess Melati rolled her eyes at me, "Perhaps I should inquire with the female as she seems better acclimated to your job than you?"

"Let us dine at Moreau's," Abigail did step in and save me. "I am confident the Princess will find it more than satisfactory."

I guess I'm not having snow crab tomorrow...

"We shall see." Princess Melati turned on her heels and promptly left. No goodbye, no wave of the hand, just her leaving her snobbish rudeness in her wake.

I found the nearest chair and slumped into it. I took several breaths and ran a hand through my hair.

"That was interesting." Abigail came up behind me and started massaging my shoulders. "A Princess has come a calling. You could be a prince. Think of the good you could accomplish as Prince of Brunei and Duke of Sutherland." I could hear the giddiness in her voice.

I glanced up at Abigail in utter disbelief. The thought of her notion, however, quickly dissolved and a more pressing issue sprung to mind, "Why did you disappear?"

"How was your date with Penelope?" Abigail had a beaming smile.

Being stubborn, I see. Two can play that game. "Why did you disappear?"

"Sir... Your Grace," Abigail stopped all movement and stared me down to let me know that subject was off limits. "How was your date with Penelope?" she reiterated much more sternly.

I will never understand women. I looked away and my head seemed to fall into my right hand as my arm was braced by the chair I was in, "It was good, I guess."

"Just good? Hmm..." There was something odd about her voice - part melancholy, part happy - as Abigail started massaging my shoulders again. "Then perhaps Princess Melati came at just the right time to give you a choice."

I shook my head. "So why did you choose Moreau's? We just ate there," My voice was partially muffled by my palm, but I didn't care.

"Because we just ate there," Abigail slightly giggled. "If need be, you can speak in an educated manner about the menu."

Friday... I was grateful that this was the last day until the weekend. This week has been one giant rollercoaster, physically and emotionally. Unfortunately, I have to get through today first before I can experience any sort of relaxation.

But the day started well enough. Abigail was once again by my side, allowing my teachers to rest at ease. My fellow students finally learned not to get near me for fear their arm will get broken or worse (I'd be rooting for worse). All was as it should be when I arrived for Mrs. Proctor's Advanced Placement English class.

Or it was.

Penelope was sitting in her typical seat, wearing one of her typical outfits, with the same typical hairstyle. What wasn't typical was her demeanor. Her eyes lit up when she saw me; her body was fidgeting as if she was a jack-in-the-box about to pop, and her smile resembled Christmas morning.

It caused me to give her a curious smile, "Hello, Penelope."

"Hi, Duke... I mean Dean," Penelope gave a slight giggle at her slip of the tongue.

I playfully shook my head, "That's all right."

Finally the dam burst and Penelope's excitement boiled over, "So what are you doing tonight?" Her jack had escaped its box as she uttered that sentence as one word.

"I am to have dinner with the Princess of Brunei."

Penelope snorted and upon doing so, she put her hand to her mouth in an attempt to cover her perceived transgression. "No, really, do you have any plans for this evening? It's Friday, the biggest party day of the week."

I looked at her dead serious, "I am to have dinner with Princess Melati, sixth in line to throne of the Nation of Brunei."

"Really?" Penelope's expression went from one of excitement to one of completely stunned.

"Apparently, I have to discuss with her our possible betrothal."

The air went out of Penelope's balloon. It was really tough to see my friend go through the gambit of emotions as she did. My heart really went out to her.

I reached over and put my hand on top of hers, "The Princess just appeared at my hotel last night. Neither I, nor my people knew of this and like I said, it's only going to be discussed. Nothing is set in stone. I'm really only going so I don't accidentally set off an International incident."

"I get it," Penelope wiped at her eye with the back of her hand, "So you're only going because you have to."

"Precisely." I pulled my hand back and opened my Animal Farm book to prepare for class. I then rolled my eyes and shook my head, "Diplomatic, ugh."

It made Penelope feel better to know I didn't want to go. She acted like her normal self the rest of the day but I could still see she was still nervous.

The rest of the school day seemed to race by like a speeding locomotive. Why does the clock crawl when you are excited to do something later but fly by when it's going to be something you dread? And then the opposite occurs and when you are doing something enjoyable it flies by and then seems to stop when it's something you despise? Does the space time continuum really hate humans that much?

All too soon, I was at the front door of the elegant, upscale French restaurant. I took a heavy breath before reaching for the door.

"Sir," I paused at Abigail's interruption. "A Prince does not open his own doors. Allow me." She proceeded to pull the door open as I looked at her suspiciously. She smiled, "See, this is the treatment you deserve."

The maître d sat Abigail and I at a secluded table in the back. The candlelight ambiance was nearly breathtaking. I know because I had plenty of time to memorize my surroundings. Princess Melati was late and I patiently waited. And waited. And then waited some more. Abigail did her best to keep me entertained but all she discussed was how I deserved to be treated like a Prince and what positives I could put forth unto the world in a duel titled capacity.

But all of Abigail's droning on the subject really did get me thinking... I had never thought of myself as someone who could change the world. I mean I was just a simple kid with a girl complex. Two positions of major influence to help navigate the world for the better? Save the planet? Save mankind? All if I just marry... My eyes fell upon the Princess as she sat down.

"This is the place that I should find more than satisfactory?" The Princess lifted her arms slightly and allowed her bodyguard to place her napkin. "What a pathetic excuse for a restaurant."

Well, here goes nothing... "Good evening, Princess Melati."

"I do declare; they at least better have a decent wine."

Let's try this again... "So Princess Melati, what type of activities do you enjoy?"

Princess Melati stared at me as if wondering why I am even asking her a question. "I do enjoy the island I own for vacationing as well as ordering my servants to shop for me."

"Interesting. So you enjoy vacationing and, in an odd sense of the term, shopping. My hobbies include..."

Princess Melati interrupted, "Perhaps the foie gras will not make me vomit."

"As I was saying, my interests include..."

"Now, what wine to pair with it?"

Did I even need to be here for this?

The evening steadily raged on. I had learned my lesson in regards to attempting to communicate with the Princess. If I even uttered a sound, as I coughed after taking a bite of my entrée, she immediately spoke about something - anything other than what I was commenting. Dessert could not come fast enough.

"This creme brulée better be good."

Our server, Liz, was doing everything to not completely lose her composure. "Our creme brulée has been given high remarks by several world renowned food critics."

"That's what you said about the foie gras."

Liz didn't respond and was making a hasty retreat before the Princess' first bite.

"Disappointing."

This was getting old. Princess Melati was beautiful, yes, but her smile, that conceited smile that she always seemed to sport, was irritating. She truly believed she was better than everyone else and cut down everyone with her sharp tongue. I decided to cut through the bullshit. "Why me?"

"Pardon?" Princess Melati's expression was one of pure annoyance, as if sincerely offended that I had the nerve to question her.

"I need to know why you want to marry me, someone you have never met before and by the looks of it, someone you despise." I folded my arms and stared her down. I'm sure she wasn't used to anyone displaying defiance toward her, "Now tell me, why?"

Princess Melati glanced to Abigail, her bodyguard, and the two tables that seemed to be in hearing range. She had a genuine look of fear in her eyes and I now wondered who is Princess Melati?

"Everyone," my eyes never wavered from the Princess as I spoke, "leave us alone for a minute."

"Princess?" Her bodyguard leaned in to his duty.

Princess Melati's head slightly nodded.

"All right, you heard the Princess, give her some privacy!"

I didn't understand why the brute felt the need to repeat what I said since Abigail was already leaving nor did I know why he needed to credit Princess Melati with my suggestion, but what did surprise me was that the bodyguard forcibly removed the patrons of the two close tables from their meals. Once the area was cleared, however, I felt like I might be able to understand the woman before me and not just her title. I moved from my seat from across from her and sat in the chair next to the seemingly petrified Princess.

My voice was as soft as a whisper, "What's going on here?"

I was a little more than stunned when she started crying. I gently, cautiously put my arm around her shoulder. When her bodyguard didn't break it off, I let it rest more firmly and began to rub her shoulder in a consoling manner.

"Every man I have met only wants me because of my money and he would be able to have a harem of girls," Princess Melati shivered at the thought. "No one wants me for me." She then looked graciously in my eyes, "I figured my only chance was to find someone with a title, who is young enough to where I can be the dominant in the relationship, but then you became a possibility and I knew you were my savior. A man with a title who did not grow up with a sense of entitlement. I really need you, Duke Franklin of Sutherland. I need you to save me."

Save her? I sighed as I sat back hard in my chair. My heart went out to the woman before me as it sounded like all she has ever met were assholes who wanted to take advantage of her. Can I really save a Princess?

"When is a good date to get married?" Princess Melati gave me an unusually soft smile. "We can stay anywhere you want in the world as long as I approve of the accommodations."

"That was a lot to take in," I ran a hand through my hair. "Please give me some time to decide. I will let you know soon."

Princess Melati briefly bit her lip before her conceited smile returned, "Of course. I was hoping to be wed sometime this weekend but we can hold off for another week or two." She stood from the table and glanced to her bodyguard. "I am ready to adjourn to my hotel."

I couldn't help it. I just had to do it. My mind was racing like a bull through Pamplona. Every thought was about a girl. Penelope Sanders or Princess Melati. Friendship or Title. Love or duty. I couldn't take it anymore and hit the emergency stop button on the elevator.

"Your Grace," Abigail's expression was one of confusion as she turned to face me, "Why did you do that? Are you all right?"

"No," I shook my head, "I am most certainly not all right."

"Having trouble picking between Princess Melati and Penelope?"

Abigail knew me so well. "I just don't know. One is my friend and the other is, well, I just feel bad for her."

"Let us break it down and see if we can make the decision easier," Abigail rationalized. "On one hand, you can spend the rest of your life with a friend and have solace in a mutually understanding relationship and on the other, you can be a Prince."

"My eyes narrowed in a moment of seriousness, "Can money, or in this case, more money and a higher title truly grant happiness?"

Abigail smiled as she shook her head. "I think you made the right choice and I will inform Penelope first thing in the morning."

"Abigail," I smiled back, "I choose love over friendship."

"What?"

I kissed Abigail. I kissed her just as I had remembered before - full of passion and love. Abigail was tentative, and took a small step back. I followed. She did it again and I followed. She tried one more time to find she couldn't back pedal any further.

Abigail's defenses began to crumble. Her hands then fell to my hips. Her lips began to reciprocate and electricity seemed to course through are bodies. It was becoming euphoric.

Abigail pushed at my shoulders to cause separation. One last gasp to prevent the inevitable. "But Sir," she breathed out and without her fake British accent. "You can't possibly want me. I'm damaged goods. And if the press ever became aware of my background... It will ruin you."

I noticed she did not once say no. "So that's why you disappeared," I chuckled. "You love me too." I then began caressing her cheek, "I can see it in your eyes. Just as money can't buy happiness, neither can the press. And if they ever found out, I will support you, I would stand beside you, and I will still love you."

"Oh Dean!"

Abigail initiated the kiss this time but I have to admit, hearing her call me by my name was far more exhilarating.

I never noticed the elevator had started moving again as Abigail and I was caught up in our own little heaven. When we reached our floor, I almost didn't notice Smythe waiting with a worried expression in fear something had happened to us because the elevator alarm had gone off. What I did notice was that by the time we reached my bedroom, Abigail had somehow maneuvered us from our clothing. But the most memorable sight was her eyes as we fell to the bed. Her sparkling emeralds expressed more to me than words ever could. Love, compassion, lust... they were just a few emotions described by her eyes. I soaked in every feeling she offered and radiated my own sense of love and caring back to her.

I closed my eyes as we embraced in yet another impassioned kiss. When I opened them, I found that somehow Abigail pulled me on top of her. And I was staring at the first nude woman I had ever bared witness. She was beautiful. A smooth, pale complexion. Her body sculpted like an hour glass. And of course, two soft mounds with two pink nubs so hard they were pointing at me.

I surprised myself by not drooling.

Abigail reached between us and placed my tip right at here entrance. She gave me her soft smile, "I'm ready."

A brief sense of panic swept through me. I've never done this before; what if I'm not good?

I was pulled from my thoughts by her hand brushing my cheek. "We have our whole lives to figure out what each other likes and we'll spend a lot of time perfecting it. Just follow your instincts and enjoy this first time together."

I gave a slight nod as I pushed forward.

Oh Wow!

I have never felt anything so miraculous in my life. My manhood felt encompassed in a warm velvet sheath and it felt like every nerve in my body pulsed with pleasure. I slid back and then pressed forward again and the sensations grew tenfold.

I was having sex. I was having sex with a woman. I was having sex with a woman and I wasn't freaking out.

I'm cured.

Or that feeling was something else.

My instincts were telling me to go faster and as I thrust faster, Abigail bucked into me. She matched every movement of mine and it was causing the fast acceleration of the inevitable.