Читать книгу His Majesty's Temporary Bride - Annie West - Страница 13
ОглавлениеALEX TWIRLED THE stem of his water glass, surveying his lunch companions. Lady Enide who, according to his mother, was warm-hearted despite her frosty demeanour, kept the conversation rolling. They’d skated over the tragic deaths of King Michel and Queen Irini to discuss Alex’s mother’s health, upcoming celebrations, trade talks, the economy, the weather and even his yachting holiday.
His query about young Prince Sébastien, now an orphan, was met with the news he was staying with family friends away from prying eyes. The news surprised Alex who’d assumed, like everyone else, that the boy was being cared for here by his aunt. All reports indicated the two were close, had been close even before the tragic accident that killed the boy’s parents.
Alex picked up tension in the room, camouflaged by the polite small talk. Tension because he was here, sooner than expected? Or because of something else?
The fact Princess Amelie... Cat clearly had no intention of mentioning they’d met already intrigued him. Why hide something so innocuous?
Unless the sudden blaze of attraction between them made her uncomfortable. Something did.
Beside Enide, Cat sat silently cutting her meal into ever smaller portions. It was only occasionally he managed to catch her eye.
What had happened to the confident, fascinating woman he’d met in the bay? She hadn’t been daunted by an emergency situation or the sudden lightning strike of desire hammering the air between them. Instead of shrinking away, she’d returned his regard with clear interest.
Now, on the rare occasions their eyes met, she inevitably looked away first. She seemed in some way diminished, despite how beautiful she looked in a pale green silk dress that rustled provocatively when she moved.
Those soft sounds as she shifted interfered with his concentration. Alex kept remembering her sleek curves in the black bikini, tempting him through the light cover of his shirt.
‘Do you swim often, Amelie?’ He forced himself to use her proper name, sensing she wouldn’t appreciate his use of her nickname here.
Her head jerked up and her eyes widened. Was that fear in those green depths? Again, she made it obvious she didn’t want Enide to know they’d met. Fascinating.
At twenty-nine Amelie was a capable woman, soon to be proclaimed Regent for Prince Sébastien till he came of age. Surely there was no reason to hide their unconventional meeting.
‘I enjoy swimming but I don’t get a lot of time for it.’
‘Perhaps while I’m here you could show me your favourite swimming place.’
She paused and Enide answered first. ‘The cove immediately below the palace has always been the royal family’s favourite.’ She turned to the younger woman and Alex read a hint of stiffness. ‘Hasn’t it, Amelie?’
Amelie nodded. ‘Yes, it’s beautiful there.’
What it was about the exchange that put him on alert, Alex didn’t know. Yet he knew something was wrong. There was a constraint about Cat... Amelie that hadn’t been there before.
‘And I see you have an extra-large swimming pool. Which do you prefer, the sea or the pool?’ He was talking idly, trying to fathom what was going on.
Did he imagine Cat’s flickering gaze towards their chaperone? For it had become clear Lady Enide was just that—keeping a watchful eye on them. Alex didn’t know whether to be amused or annoyed.
Did the St Gallans think because they’d suggested a royal marriage, he’d take that as carte blanche to scoop Cat up and into his bed before the banns were read? He wasn’t that medieval.
Yet the idea was ridiculously tempting.
Despite not wanting a wife.
‘I usually do laps, but there’s a freedom about swimming in the sea, don’t you think?’ This time when her gaze met his there was the hint of a smile and response tugged deep in his belly. Whatever this was between them: lust, fascination, the temptation to cut loose after three long years with his nose to the grindstone, it fired his libido like flame to pure alcohol.
‘I couldn’t agree more. There’s nothing more invigorating than an early morning dip in the sea.’
Was it imagination or did something ignite in that clear gaze? Did she too remember how it had been between them—he naked and she as good as with her sopping clothes—as arousal roared into life?
Alex wanted that again. Wanted it more than he’d wanted anything for years.
Because he’d denied himself so many things since inheriting the throne? Because his responsibilities didn’t leave time for anything as selfish as uncomplicated sex with a beautiful woman?
Or because there’d been something about Cat that he’d connected with instantly?
How long since he’d bantered with a woman, flirted and enjoyed that frisson of sexual desire? He’d been too busy delving into the murky morass of his father’s financial affairs, the contracts given to friends and those offering backhanders. His father had run the country as if it were his personal piggy bank to be plundered. Alex had spent three years turning the tide, avoiding national bankruptcy by the skin of his teeth and slowly clawing back control of the national finances from his father’s grasping cronies.
Now, on vacation for the first time in years, he was ready for a little dalliance. The problem was he’d set his sights on the woman his mother and all his advisers had pegged for his wife.
No way would he make a move on Cat... Amelie. Not when it would be construed as a statement of marital intent.
An affair, on the other hand...
A mutually enjoyable short-term affair for the length of his stay...
Lust corkscrewed through his belly as their eyes met and that high-octane blast of awareness reverberated.
‘Perhaps we could swim together tomorrow?’ he suggested.
Cat opened her mouth but Lady Enide spoke swiftly, her tone cool. ‘Unfortunately the Princess will be busy tomorrow.’ Alex stared and, seeing his surprise, Enide hurried on. ‘It’s regrettable, Your Majesty. Unfortunately we weren’t expecting you quite so soon.’
There was more to it than that. But what? There was something more than officious about the way the older woman hovered over Cat. It reminded him of the anxious way his mother had watched his father when he was in one of his moods. As if preparing to deal with his freak tempers.
More and more intriguing.
Cat seemed anything but highly strung. She’d impressed with her calm competence in the water, her self-assurance and capability. Today, though subdued, she’d given no signs of the self-absorption and unsteady ego that had characterised his father.
‘Another day, then. I’m here for some time.’ Alex leaned back, watching the ripple of consternation on Enide’s face.
He sensed a mystery.
‘You’re not travelling on and then returning for the festivities?’ Cat spoke, her voice calm yet with a telling husky edge that sharpened his libido. Surprising how arousing it was to sit across a formal dining table from a woman dressed in silk and heels and imagine her in his bed, naked and eager.
Even the dragon guarding her was a challenge rather than a real obstruction. Alex might be out of practice, but he’d always been successful with women, even before it looked as if he might inherit a throne.
He just needed to discover if Cat felt the same undertow of desire.
‘I’m afraid any plans to sail on to Italy have been put on hold. The yacht has to go into dry dock for repair.’
George would be surprised, but Alex sensed dragon lady’s unwillingness to have him in the palace and he was determined to find out why. And give her no chance to deny him. The fact she was so obviously on edge at having their guest of honour arrive early set him on alert. Besides, George had talked about the need for work on the yacht one day.
‘In that case you must stay here.’ Lady Enide’s mouth curved in a smile as welcoming as hoarfrost.
Beside her, Cat swallowed. Did he imagine it or did her pupils widen?
‘Amelie?’ Despite his burning curiosity he wouldn’t thrust himself into her home, especially after her recent loss, if she objected.
‘I’m sure you’ll be more comfortable here than in the city. There’s plenty of room, after all.’ Her jaw angled infinitesimally higher, banishing the earlier hint of reserve. ‘I’ll ask the chef to make pancakes for breakfast while you’re here.’
A hint of a smile softened her mouth and understanding passed between them, the memory of him offering to cook her pancakes on the yacht.
‘Pancakes?’ Lady Enide looked perplexed.
‘I heard somewhere that His Highness is fond of pancakes.’
‘Alex, please.’ He relaxed back in his seat, pleased Cat was taking the lead. Her silence had puzzled him. ‘Yes, I’m fond of pancakes. I acquired a taste for them when I worked in the States.’
* * *
It wasn’t till the next day that he managed time alone with her. Time enough to wonder if he’d acted too rashly, inviting himself to the palace he’d originally planned to visit for only the shortest of official visits.
Yet it was too late for second thoughts.
He’d been installed in a guest suite with views on two sides to the manicured gardens and the sea beyond. He had everything he could wish for, except the company of his hostess.
It was only a couple of months since Cat had lost her brother. She had other priorities. Yet he was disappointed when a staff member showed him the palace. And when Lady Enide, with a posse of senior diplomats and the Prime Minister, met him for afternoon tea in one of the grand rooms. There was no sign of Cat, merely a murmured reference to a previous commitment she couldn’t break.
At dinner they sat with the full length of the long table between them. Afterwards his attempt to talk with her was stymied by the Prime Minister, inviting him to discuss trade opportunities Alex couldn’t afford to ignore.
Strange behaviour for a woman who’d consented to the idea of marriage, should he agree. It felt, bizarrely, as if she didn’t want to be alone with him.
Now, so early that dew clung to the grass and the sun’s rays sprayed apricot and amber across the sea, he intercepted Cat on her morning run. He’d woken early and dressed in jogging gear. He’d seen her don running shoes after swimming ashore from the yacht and guessed she was an early morning runner. Now he peeled away from his vantage point and joined her.
Startled, she looked over her shoulder. Her expression was unreadable as she nodded acknowledgement. Yet she didn’t break stride as she headed for a path descending into the forest reserve.
Alex followed, adapting to her pace. It wasn’t a jog but a long-legged run, quickly eating up the distance. He found himself needing to concentrate on his breathing even as he enjoyed the flash of her smooth golden legs and the sway of that long ponytail over her slim back.
She moved like an athlete, not a royal who spent her days glad-handing VIPs and hosting formal dinners.
Princess Amelie was a poster girl for modern royalty. Losing her mother early, she’d become her father’s official hostess, the pretty face of royalty in St Galla, often filling in for the King at openings, community events and charity occasions. She was a consummate diplomatic hostess and the media loved her for her warm heart and cool elegance, citing her as a modern-day Princess Grace.
Word had it she’d virtually raised her younger brother, Michel, and that she had a special fondness for children. It was this maternal side of her nature that had particularly appealed to his mother. As if he was ready to settle down with a brood of kids!
It wasn’t Cat’s assets as a mother that focused his attention as they ran the waterfront path through the forest. It was imagining that supple golden body wrapped around him, those soft lips on his, and that voice, throaty with desire, murmuring his name.
Even her hair made him want to tangle his fingers to draw her close. It pleased and intrigued him that it fell in abundant golden waves, so different to the photos he’d seen and the way she’d looked last night, hair tight and straight in a formal style. There was a hint of wildness about it now that suited her. Like the flash and sizzle he’d read in her the day they’d met.
Each time he saw her Alex was struck by how different the Princess was in the flesh, compared with her photos. In those she always looked refined and charming. But the real woman also had a vitality and undeniable sex appeal that drew him.
Drew him! It was a smack to his chest, stealing his air.
‘You run well.’ She’d stopped, hands on knees, drawing slow breaths, though he noticed she wasn’t panting. Her T-shirt clung to her breasts and abruptly he was aware not only of the trickle of sweat down his backbone but the heat stirring in his belly that had nothing to do with exertion.
Hands on hips, he hauled in oxygen, chest expanding hungrily. How long since he’d had a good run instead of a snatched gym workout after a long day?
Cat’s eyes dropped to his chest then roved up to his shoulders before cutting away to the glassy sea.
‘So do you.’ Alex tried and failed to divert his attention from her pert breasts and the pulse beating at the base of her neck where her skin glowed, damp and inviting.
Okay, maybe he didn’t try very hard.
He lifted his eyes and met her clear gaze.
His lungs constricted. What he read there was unequivocal. Interest. Attraction. Desire.
She didn’t hide it coyly. There were no slanting sidelong looks or fluttering eyelashes, just an appraisal that seared through his self-control and made him want to punch the air in victory.
So he hadn’t imagined it. Despite the distance she’d put between them yesterday, Cat’s direct gaze spoke of a need that answered his own.
A breeze stirred loose tendrils of her hair and he’d swear he tasted her fragrance on his tongue. Something crisp and sweet like ripe pears.
She swallowed, the tip of her tongue swiping her bottom lip, and his mouth dried.
He forced himself to keep his hands anchored at his waist, fingers digging into taut flesh.
Cat blinked and stepped away, turning to look across the bay where his yacht had been moored yesterday. She wrapped her arms around herself.
‘When did you recognise me? You never called me Amelie that first day.’
‘On the yacht.’ Not as soon as he should have. He’d been too distracted by the urgent hum of hunger. A hunger so sudden and complete it outclassed anything he’d ever felt for a woman. If it weren’t for the fact he was coming out of a prolonged sexual drought it would worry him. Fortunately he knew this must be his libido’s response to recent abstinence and a remarkably intriguing woman.
‘You didn’t say anything.’ Was it imagination or did her mouth tighten?
He shrugged. ‘Was there any need? It was clear we were going to get to know each other.’ He hadn’t intended it, but his voice hit a gravel-deep level at the thought of how well he’d like to know her. ‘You’re easily recognisable, even in wet clothes.’
The clinging clothes had merely turned the picture-perfect Princess into a real flesh-and-blood woman, much more appealing than in any of those posed photos. There was an aura about Cat, a vibrant authenticity, that drew him. He felt it now, when at last night’s dinner it had been subdued.
‘Cat... Amelie.’
She swung to face him, her expression grave. ‘Yes?’
Alex cleared his throat. Absurd to hesitate. He needed to clarify his position, even if it scuppered the chance to know Cat as he wanted to. He refused to lead her on. He could forgive most things but he abhorred falseness. Growing up with his conniving, deceitful father, Alex was upfront in all his dealings and expected that from others.
‘I need to clear something up.’
‘Yes?’ She squared her shoulders, her chin tipping as if waiting for a blow.
‘About the marriage proposal.’
She blinked, her pupils widening as if they might engulf her eyes.
Alex hesitated. Could she really have invested so much in the idea of a match between them? She struck him as down-to-earth, not the sort of female who’d languish waiting for her advisers to arrange a dynastic match.
But how well did he know her beyond the sexual attraction saturating the air between them?
‘The marriage proposal?’ Again that quick swipe of her bottom lip. Alex’s belly curled in on itself, heat quickening.
‘I know your advisers thought a match between us was desirable. I know you thought so too or it would never have been raised with my staff.’
Her features froze into blankness and he paused. He didn’t want to make it sound like he was rejecting her. Far from it. It was the idea of marriage he wasn’t ready for.
‘There are advantages.’ He paused and hated his hesitation. ‘But the truth is I’m not interested in marriage. Not yet.’
She said nothing. Her expression was unreadable. Only the flickering pulse at her throat and the rise and fall of her breasts under the thin cotton proved she hadn’t frozen in place.
Because she was insulted? Disappointed? Despite his scrutiny he could read nothing in her body language.