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A Prince For Sale	By : FaTaLfURy Category: Final Fantasy VII > Het - Male/Female > Cloud/Tifa Views: 4010 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy VII or the characters in it. Nor do I make any profit from writing this story. Everything else is the product of my over-active imagination.

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A Prince For Sale
FaTaLfURy
Chapter Four – Storm Before The Calm
He kissed her again to shut her up.
It was a good thing his intended melted in his arms every time he kissed her… literally.
Cloud was trying really hard to keep a clear head even as he locked lips with Tifa. Her responsiveness made him want to forget about duty and to hell with everything else, but he knew he couldn’t do it. A scandal about their engagement would ruin them both.
So he squelched his conscience down and proceeded to use her seeming fascination with kissing him to get her out of there. Without breaking the delicious kiss he was giving her, his eyes found Vincent Valentine’s. A signal from him and his bodyguard immediately cleared a path for them. Scooping Tifa into his arms bridal-style, Cloud walked out of the ballroom still kissing his fiancé amid the thunderous cheers and the multitude flashes of various cameras trying to capture the moment.
Tomorrow’s news will be sensational. Gossip columns everywhere will be titillated by the fact that the ‘Ice Prince’ could be unbelievably hot. Instead of the humiliating fact that he was going to marry the Lockheart heiress because of money, he gave them a much better means of talking about their outrageous engagement.
Diffusing his bride’s fury would be another matter entirely.
Vincent stopped in front of a set of double doors and motioned for Cloud to go inside. He could see the amusement in his friend’s eyes and knew Vincent would be needling him endlessly of his behavior tonight. He stepped inside the room and the door closed behind him resolutely. Vincent wouldn’t be coming inside; he would make sure the prince and his bride weren’t interrupted.
Finally they were alone.
Cloud broke the kiss, fully expecting for Tifa to rage at him once he did. Breathing heavily, he leaned back against the door and just held her for the moment.
Tifa was disoriented for a second, her senses slow to come back to reality. But the minute she did, she hated herself for being the weak, susceptible fool that she was. Just his kiss was enough to turn her brain into mush and make her forget about everything! No man ever made her feel that vulnerable. And because he did, she decided she hated him more than she hated herself and was going to make him pay for it.
Just as Cloud was about to sigh in relief, Tifa’s cold, hard voice reached him.
“Take your hands off me right this very minute or I won’t be responsible for my next action,”
The prince was unsure on how to proceed. Tifa was livid, no doubt about it. To what lengths her rage would push her, he didn’t know. Instead of risking another scandal where his bride calls off their engagement, he decided to risk his self in its’ place. He tightened his hold on her before he answered.
“I think not,”
He said in a most calm, matter-of-fact voice. He fully expected her to throw a full-throttle tantrum right then and there, starting with the waterworks. But Tifa didn’t have any plans of crying. She was going to show this arrogant, self-absorbed son-of-a-bitch just what happens when you mess with Tifa Lockheart. His face wouldn’t remain so pretty after she’s through with him.
“Then I’d just have to take them off myself, wouldn’t I?”
She said in the sweetest voice she could muster. Belying the tone of her voice, Tifa swiftly made her move. Grabbing the hand that was hugging her to his chest, she twisted to his side, inserted her hips and executed a perfect judo throw that had him flying over her head and flat on his back on the floor in no time. There she stood above his immobile body, surveying her handiwork, no doubt. A malicious glint of satisfaction was there in her sherry-colored eyes. She probably expected him to stay down indefinitely.
He hated to disappoint the lady, but disappoint her he will.
Putting his hands palms-down on the floor, Cloud lifted his legs and kicked himself back up standing. He wasn’t even winded. Before the shock of it wore off Tifa, he goaded her again.
“Care to try that again, princess?”
THAT did it. Whatever miniscule hold Tifa had over her control vanished in that instant. Vowing to kick his royal ass, she went on the offensive.
“I am not a princess, damn you!”
Her first punch landed on his open fist.
“Oh, but you will be. You’re engaged to me now, remember? That makes you MY princess,”
Letting out a scream of pure, unadulterated rage, Tifa threw punch after punch, kick after kick, combo after combo. All of which were either blocked, dodged or defended by the prince.
“I will never belong to you, do you hear me? Never!”
Cloud thought the whole villa probably heard her. Ears ringing, he prayed that the sound-proof system of the room will hold as he continued to parry with his bride.
==============================================================================================================
~Meanwhile, outside the very room they were having their ‘discussion’…~
Vincent had his hands full keeping the Lockheart couple out of the room. He supposed he should be thankful it was just Ms. Lockheart’s parents who were trying to get inside the room (the guests and the paparazzi were being handled expertly by the guards in the Lockheart’s employ) but God, were they stubborn as hell. That’s probably where the prince’s bride got her stubbornness as well, judging from the sounds emanating from the room in question.
“Let me assure you, sir, madam that—”
He was cut off by a soft thud as something hit the wall followed by a muffled scream. The Lockheart couple looked terrified by it all.
“Oh my God, what was that? That sounded like a body thrown against the wall! Darling, do something!”
Mrs. Lockheart was near hysteria as she ordered her husband to remove Vincent from the door.
In Vincent’s opinion, it was probably the settee hitting the wall. But he couldn’t very well tell them that as it could add to their anxiety. He supposed their concern was understandable. It was of course their daughter’s safety they were worried about. But he knew the prince would never harm a hair on the Lockheart heiress’ head, of that he was sure.
Now if he could only convince them too…
Vincent tried again. In a soft, reassuring voice he told them how their fears were unfounded.
“The prince would never raise his hand against any woman, even more so with your daughter. She is his bride. Ms. Lockheart is completely safe with him,”
The Lockhearts’ reaction to his assurances was baffling. First they looked at him as though he has lost his mind completely, then they redoubled their efforts to sway him into letting them in.
“Now look here, son, don’t make me go summoning the guards—”
Vincent cut him off with a chilling tone.
“That would be a waste of time, Mr. Lockheart. They would try to remove me from this door and it would all end badly for them. I’ll try not to kill them, but I’ll hurt them like hell,”
Mr. Lockheart had to swallow before continuing.
“You don’t understand! You have to let us inside that room. Tifa is—”
Now Vincent was plain exasperated.
“I just told you that no harm will come to her with the prince! Now—”
It was Mrs. Lockheart’s turn to do the interrupting.
“We’re not worried about our daughter getting hurt! Just the opposite, you odious man! Tifa is going to kill him!”
Now they’ve got Vincent’s complete attention.
“What do you mean, kill him? Kill him how?”
Mr. Lockheart started pacing back and forth as he gave the explanation.
“Our daughter has a horrible temper. Most of the time, she can’t control that monstrous rage of hers. And Tifa is… well, unique. She has a complete set of mixed martial arts skills that could seriously injure, if not kill, anyone who crosses her. So we’ve got to calm her down now before she kills her future husband, do you understand now?”
Instead of complying immediately to their request once he knew the Lockheart heiress was a serious threat to his employer’s health, Vincent instead folded his arms across his chest and gave them one of his rare smiles.
“Then they are perfect for each other. Do not worry so; His Highness is more than capable of being a match for her,”
The Lockheart couple threw their hands up in despair.
==============================================================================================================
~Back inside the room…~
He was hot— sweating profusely as he held off the she-wolf that was hell-bent on chewing him to pieces. His tux was already torn and soiled in some places. He was using all of the techniques that was handed down to him by his masters just to avoid getting maimed, or worse yet killed, and he was starting to feel the bruises that would probably cover him from head-to-foot by tomorrow.
Yet one thing was undeniably clear:
Prince Cloud was having the time of his life.
He never had such intense sparring since… well, almost forever, what with most of his sparring partners careful of not hurting him too much. No matter how hard he pushed them, they always curbed themselves with him. Vincent was the only exception and his masters of course, but being the busy prince he was at the moment, he never had the time to spar anymore.
Until now.
And doing it with such an exquisite looking woman was playing havoc with his libido. Looking at her now— her dark hair tousled ravishingly, her beautifully sculpted cheeks flushed with exertion, her luscious lips parted as she breathed heavily, and her breasts— dear God, how her succulent breasts almost spilled out of her gown with every ragged breath she took— he realized that he was just a man, after all. A perverted, masochistic man at that.
Who else would have a hard-on while on the verge of getting killed by a violent woman?
Shaking his thoughts almost disgustedly, Cloud focused on calming his fiancé down. He was wearing her down, he knew. She was tiring slowly, her strikes a little slower now and the power behind it reduced. If she managed to hit him with her full-power still active, he knew he was a dead man. Luckily for him, all of Tifa’s attacks only managed to graze him.
“Hit me back, damn you!”
Tifa’s angry command shocked the hell out of him. She must be masochistic as well.
“What?”
“You heard me! All you’ve been doing so far is dance around me. I’ve hit you plenty of times, so retaliate all you like, you jerk!”
Her stupendous tenacity amazed him greatly.
“I could never hit such a beautiful woman, princess,”
Tifa’s eyes narrowed furiously at that. Cloud thought she would launch herself at him again. But she clearly had another idea.
“Then pretend I look like one of those muscular, weight-lifting women! I’d probably look more like a man than you do,”
The picture was enough to bring a smile of pure delight to his lips, but he suppressed it brutally. He gravely shook his head at her instead.
“What’s the matter, o prince charming? Afraid you might break a nail?”
She said it while batting her eyelashes outrageously.
That did it for him. Cloud suddenly burst out laughing at what she was implying.
“You can goad me all you want, princess, but I will never hit you. Ever. You have my word on that,”
At his response, she slumped down to the floor, seeming to have the very life in her taken away. He was instantly alarmed by it and was at her side in no time.
“Hey, are you okay? I thought you still wanted to have a go at me,”
She lifted her shoulders in a dejected shrug.
“What’s the point? You’re never going to hit me back so I’m done now. You’re no fun at all,”
That had him chuckling again.
“So what’s the deal with us being engaged?”
Cloud cleared his throat before he answered. Things were getting awkward now.
“Well, your parents thought it was a grand idea—”
Tifa’s eyes fired up with that.
“I knew it! Of all the careless, scheming—”
He held up a finger to interrupt her.
“Please listen first. Your parents only have your well-being in mind, so I believe you shouldn’t hate them. Just as I have Costa del Sol’s welfare in my mind too,”
She blinked up at him confusedly.
“What? What does that have to do with anything? How does marrying me secure your country?”
He didn’t answer. The silence was uncomfortable as he waited for her to draw the correct deductions. It wasn’t slow in coming.
“Oh, now I get it. Mom and Dad probably dangled our fortune in front of you in exchange for my being a princess, and your country must be really poor for you to agree to marry a commoner. You must be so desperate,”
Tifa said scathingly, the disgust there in her eyes. Cloud fought the urge to flinch. He was the one with royal blood here, for God’s sake!
“Even so—”
She cut him off ruthlessly.
“What if I told you we don’t have to get married for you to get your money?
Tifa asked coldly.
“What do you mean?”
“I meant, you stupid prince, that with the financial stability I have now I could probably support your little country for the next twenty years or so! And that’s just with my money, mind you. My parents wouldn’t have a say in it. So, let’s get talking,”
Tifa rubbed her hands in anticipation of a deal of a lifetime.
“I’ll have my lawyers draw up some papers stating that I will support your country in all of its’ financial endeavors for a full fifteen years, with the express condition that you retract your previous arrangement with my parents concerning our engagement. Deal?”
“You said twenty earlier. I definitely heard you say you could support my country for the next twenty years,”
Cloud said in a matter-of-fact voice. No expression could be read in his face. Tifa glared at him disgustedly.
“You greedy son-of a—”
“Insulting me won’t get you anywhere, princess,”
Tifa huffed as she crossed her arms over her well-endowed bosoms.
“Alright! I’ll support your country for the next twenty years. There! Are you happy now? Do we have a deal?”
He pondered the situation he was in gravely. Here lies the answer to all of his problems. He’ll have the financial support his country desperately needed, and he didn’t even have to marry to get it.
Only, now that he’s found out how extraordinarily unique his bride-to-be was, he’s having second thoughts about the whole matter. He has never met any woman like Tifa Lockheart. And believe him, he’s met plenty. It was like she was in a league all by herself. No other woman has gotten to him the way she did, not even Aerith.
Aerith was special too, of course, but she never would’ve flown into a rage and attacked him the way Tifa did. It was probably the princess in her, but she probably would’ve given him the ‘silent treatment’ to show him her displeasure.
He loved Aerith with all his heart, but sometimes like right now, he suddenly realized what a safe and boring life he would’ve had if he had up and married her.
Tifa was another story. She was a woman whose passions ran hot, and there’ll probably be no safe or boring day with her at his side. And just thinking of discovering how much hotter she could get… well, that was just simply too good an opportunity to pass up.
So discarding his princely conscience aside, he lied.
“Well, even though the odds you just told me are so very tempting, I’m afraid I would have to decline. So no, we don’t have a deal. All bets are off, princess,”
Her reaction was really something. Her eyes grew so wide that he thought the would bulge out of their sockets and her delicious mouth hung open in shock a fly could’ve actually gotten in and out of there safely.
“Wait, what? What! Why can’t you accept the terms that I gave you, you bastard!?”
He shrugged nonchalantly.
“Sorry, I forgot to tell you but it so happens that I’ve already signed a waiver from your parents declaring that it’s either I marry you or I don’t get anything at all,”
“But that’s completely irrelevant! I just told you I’m going to use my own money—”
“It’s not that I don’t trust your own wealth, princess, but financing a kingdom could be really expensive. I doubt your own wealth alone will be able to handle it. Besides, the waiver I signed is non-revocable. I’m afraid they’ll take drastic measures once they find out what we’re planning,”
“Such as? They have no control over my personal funds,”
Cloud arched an eyebrow at her. Surely she couldn’t be that secure.
“Are you a hundred percent sure about that?”
Tifa’s brain started working overtime. Of course she had her own money, but he was right. She’d better learn how to be a frugal woman fast if she had any hope at all of fulfilling the conditions she just told the prince were he to agree. And she had her trust-fund of course, but it wouldn’t be released until after her twenty-third birthday, which was exactly eleven months from now. Damn it, her parents could freeze it, or even worse, dissolve it altogether!
She wasn’t an overly-materialistic girl, but she was very thankful she’d been born rich because of its’ privileges. And she had no plans of experiencing what it was like to live without money, thank you very much. So she had to have a back-up plan.
Shoulders slumped in defeat, Tifa racked her brains out to try and think of something. Luckily, the prince had some ideas of his own.
“I’ll give you another proposal. One you won’t have any difficulty accepting,”
Cloud said, his glowing blue eyes full of promise. Tifa could swear he was trying to hypnotize her with it. Swallowing hard, she was half-afraid to ask what his plans were but knew she had to.
Anything to get out of this ‘arrangement’.
“Yes, you were saying?”
He gave her his full attention then.
“Marry me,”
“What? Are you insane? That’s just what I’m trying to avoid doing and—”
He lifted a finger to stall her.
“You didn’t let me finish, princess. Agree to our engagement. Play the role of loving fiancé in front of everyone, and then marry me. We’ll stay married for about a year or two just to satisfy your parents, then we could get a divorce and go our separate ways after that. This way, everyone gets what they want and we all walk away happy. Besides, they never said we’d have to stay married forever, right?”
Cloud could almost hear the gears in Tifa’s head whirring. His demeanor was calm, almost to the point of being bored, but deep inside his heart was hammering wildly against his chest as he waited with bated breath as to what her answer would be.
It wasn’t long in coming.
Tifa laughed that throaty, sexy laugh of hers, throwing her head back in abandon and exposing her silky, white throat to his salivating gaze. It was like being punched in the guts as he watched her. Man, but what just her laugh could do to him.
“I accept. God, but I love how that devious mind of yours work,”
She said, flashing him another wicked smile.
“And they’ll never know we planned this from the start! We could just say it didn’t work out for us, you know? Hey, what’s the matter? Why are you staring at me like that?”
There was uneasiness in her voice as she noticed the intense way he was looking at her. It was like he wanted to kiss her again.
“Stop! Stop it right now! No more kissing, do you understand?”
Her demand took him by surprise.
“Why not? Didn’t you like it?”
Tifa was now looking ill at ease.
“Of course I liked it. Oh God, what am I saying?”
She moaned in despair and buried her face in her hands. She then rapped a hand to her forehead as though telling it to make sense. Cloud had to smile at her antics. Her honesty was delightfully refreshing. He found most women twisted the truth to suit their needs.
Another one of the reasons as to why he MUST have her.
“Look, I enjoy your kisses… a lot. And therein lies the problem,”
Cloud scooted closer to her, and Tifa moved back in reaction.
“What problem could that be?”
She tucked some wayward strands of her glorious hair behind her ear in a distracted gesture.
“Well, when you kiss me all I can think of is how wonderful it feels and how I don’t want to stop. You make me lose myself, and my control. So it won’t do,”
“Won’t do what?”
He said almost in a whisper, his face inching closer to hers slowly. Any second now and his lips will be on hers…
In her panic, Tifa pushed Cloud away, sending him sprawling on the floor. She stood up in agitation and went to the other side of the room to avoid him.
“That’s my condition. No more kissing until all this is over. I can’t let you blindside me like that again,”
Cloud stood up slowly, not really understanding but knew there was nothing he could do to change her mind. Besides, she’ll have to give in eventually.
“Alright. No more kissing, except when it’s needed,”
She sent him a questioning look.
“Look, in public we’re expected to kiss each other. And you can’t very well tell me I can’t kiss you when the priest says ‘you may kiss the bride’,”
Tifa looked disgruntled, but grudgingly conceded he had a point. Their charade wouldn’t be believable if they didn’t play it to the hilt.
“That… and I’ll only kiss you when you want me to. You have my word on it,”
The dubious look she gave him made his hackles rise indignantly.
“I’m not one to force a woman unwillingly. You have no reason to doubt my word, unless of course it is your own self-control you’re doubting?”
His seemingly off-handed question sounded like a challenge to Tifa. And she never, ever backed down from a challenge. Narrowing her eyes into slits, she held out her hand to seal the deal.
“Game on, Your Highness,”
============================================================================================================
After what seemed like forever to those who were waiting with bated breath outside, the couple finally emerged from the room. An irate Mr. and Mrs. Lockheart and a silent Vincent met them.
“Are you alright, Your Higness? She didn’t hurt you, did she?”
“Tifa, you must apologize! How could you do this to your future husband?”
Their eyes met over the scolding and apologies Tifa’s parents were giving. Tifa looked so disgruntled that Cloud couldn’t resist pulling her back to his side and putting his arm around her shoulders. His kiss on Tifa’s forehead brought a blush to her cheeks and managed to shock her parents into silence.
“There’s no need for apologies. I find your daughter utterly delightful. She and I have come to an understanding. Our engagement is now official. The wedding will be held six months from now,”
Hearing that, the Lockheart couple couldn’t be more happy or relieved.
“Good! That’s good to hear. We are so happy for you both. Now we have to go back to the party and—”
“I’m sorry, Mom, Dad. But it’s been an… exciting day for me, what with getting engaged and all. I’d like to go home now,”
“But—”
Mr. Lockheart squeezed his wife’s hand gently to silence her. He nodded in understanding to his daughter, his eyes reflecting some of the guilt and apology he knew they owed her.
“Of course, love. Don’t worry about the party; your mother and I will handle it. Good night, then. Come along now, dear,”
He said the latter to his still-stupefied wife, dragging her along with him back to the direction of the ballroom.
“You shouldn’t hate them. They only want what’s best for you,”
“I don’t hate them. But it’s going to take me a while to forgive them for pulling a stunt on me like that. Now if you don’t mind—”
“I’ll take you home,”
Tifa shook her head emphatically.
“Don’t bother. I have my own chauffeur so there’s no worry over me driving off a cliff. Tomorrow’s going to be a crazy day for the two of us, so I suggest you go back to your hotel and rest too. Good night,”
Before Cloud could stop her, she was already briskly walking away from him. In a last-ditch effort, he called out to her.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, princess,”
Tifa waved her hand in acknowledgement, but didn’t bother to look back at him. She rounded a corner and was out of his sight before he knew it.
“I was right. It was the settee that hit the wall and not you,”
That came from Vincent who just walked out of the ‘battle room’. Choosing to ignore his friend’s amusement, Cloud ordered them home.
Tomorrow’s going to be hectic.
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A Prince For Sale