Читать книгу Wedding Party Collection: Marrying The Prince - Кейт Хьюит - Страница 14
ОглавлениеLEO SAW THE emotions flash across Alyse’s face like changes in the weather, sunshine and shadows. Even more so he felt the change in her, the tensing, the slight withdrawal even though she hadn’t actually moved.
‘What is it?’ he asked quietly. ‘What’s wrong?’
She gave a little shake of her head. ‘Nothing.’
He didn’t believe that for a moment. Gently but firmly he took her chin in his hand, forced her to look at him. ‘It’s not nothing.’
Her clear grey eyes met his for a moment before she let her gaze slide away. ‘Nothing to talk about now,’ she said, with a not-quite-there smile.
If she was trying to sound light, she’d failed. Leo let go of her chin and sat back braced on his hands to survey her thoughtfully. She still wasn’t looking at him and a tendril of hair, curly from the sea air, fell against the soft paleness of her cheek.
‘Are you nervous about what will happen between us?’
She looked at him then, a small spark of humour lighting her eyes. ‘You sound like something out of a melodrama, Leo. You’re usually more blunt than that.’
He felt his mouth curving in an answering smile. ‘I’m happy to be blunt. I want you, Alyse.’ He gazed at her frankly, letting the desire that still coursed unsated through his body reveal itself in his face. ‘I want you very badly. I want to touch you, to kiss you, to be inside you. And I don’t want to wait very long.’
He saw an answering flare of heat in her eyes, turning them to molten silver, but her lips twisted and trembled and she looked away again. What was going on? ‘That’s admirably blunt.’
‘I’ll be even blunter—I think you want me just as much as I want you.’ Gently he tucked that curly tendril of hair behind her ear, unable to keep his fingers from lingering on the softness of her skin. He felt her tremble in response. ‘Do you deny it?’
‘No,’ she whispered, but she wouldn’t look at him.
Frustration bit into him. What was going on? Compelled to make her look at him, make her acknowledge the strength of the desire between them, he touched her chin and turned her to face him. She met his gaze reluctantly but unflinchingly, her eyes like two wide, grey pools Leo thought he could drown in. Lose himself completely.
‘I want to make love to you,’ he said quietly, each word brought up from a deep well of desire and even emotion inside him. ‘But not here, on a hard deck. We have a lovely big bed on a lovely private beach and I quite like the idea of making love to you there.’
Her eyes widened even more, surprise flickering in their depths, and with a jolt he realised what he’d said. Confessed.
Making love. It was a term he’d never used, didn’t even like. If love didn’t exist beyond a simple hormonal fluctuation, then you couldn’t make it. And sex, in his experience, had nothing to do with love. It wouldn’t, even with Alyse.
Yet the words had slipped out and he knew that Alyse had noticed. What did she think was happening between them? What was happening between them?
Panic, icy and overwhelming, swamped him. Why the hell had he said that? Felt it? This was what happened when you let someone in just a little bit. Friendship be damned.
He dropped his fingers from her chin and rose abruptly from the deck, thankfully shattering the moment that had stretched between them. There would be no putting it together again; he’d make sure of that. ‘We should head back,’ he said tersely. ‘In any case.’
He set sail, his back to her, and wondered just how he could get their relationship—he didn’t even like calling it that—back on the impersonal and unthreatening footing he craved. Whatever it took, he vowed grimly, he would do it. He’d had enough of this friendship.
* * *
Alyse sat on the bridge deck and watched as Leo set sail for their private cove. His shoulders were now rigid with tension, every muscle taut, and she didn’t know if it was because of her emotional withdrawal or his. She’d seen the flare of panic in his eyes when he’d said those two revealing words: making love.
But there would be no love in their physical union, just immense, intense attraction. So why had he said it? Had he meant it simply as a turn of phrase that had alarmed him when he’d heard it aloud? Or, for a moment, had he actually felt something more? That alarmed him more than any mere words ever could.
Was she ridiculous to think that little slip might signify something? She knew she had a tendency to read far too much into a smile or a look. She didn’t want to make the same mistake now, yet she couldn’t keep herself from wondering. From hoping.
And yet, she felt her own flare of panic. What would Leo think—and feel—when she told him, as she must do, that she wasn’t a virgin?
Alyse turned to face the sea, hugging her knees to her chest even though the wind was sultry. The coldness she felt came from inside, from the knowledge she’d been hiding from for too long already.
She’d blanked out that one fumbling evening that constituted all of her sexual experience, had consigned it to a terrible, heart-rending mistake and tried to pretend it hadn’t happened.
But princesses—future queens—were meant to be pure, unblemished, and she clearly was not. In this day and age, did it really matter?
It would matter, she supposed, to someone like Queen Sophia who, despite having been born into merely an upper-class family, held fast to the archaic bastions of the monarchy as if she were descended from a millennia’s worth of royalty. It probably mattered to King Alessandro as well, but she didn’t care about either of them. She cared about Leo.
Would it matter to him? Would he be disappointed that he wasn’t her first? She had no illusions that he was a virgin; he surely hadn’t been celibate for the six long years of their engagement, even if he’d been admirably discreet.
Anxiety danced in her belly. Worry gnawed at her mind. She didn’t want to give him any reason to withdraw emotionally from her, to feel disappointed or perhaps even angry, yet she knew she would have to tell him...before tonight.
They didn’t speak until the catamaran was pulled up on the beach and they were back in their private cove, and then only to talk about when they would have dinner. It was late afternoon, the sun already starting its mellow descent towards the horizon.
Alyse went to shower in the separate bathroom facilities, all sunken marble and gold taps kept in a rocky enclosure that was meant to look like a natural part of the cove.
She washed away the remnants of sea salt and sun cream and wondered what the next few hours would hold. Something had started to grow between her and Leo, perhaps even to blossom. Friendship—and perhaps something more, until he’d had that moment of panic.
Could they recapture both the camaraderie and passion they’d felt this afternoon?
What if her admission ruined it all?
It doesn’t matter, she told herself. It shouldn’t matter. He might be a prince, but Leo’s still a modern man...
Even so, she felt the pinpricks of uncertainty. Of fear.
The staff were setting up another romantic dinner on the beach when Leo came out of the shower, his hair damp and curling slightly by his neck, the sky-blue of his shirt bringing out the blue in his eyes. Alyse had chosen another dress from her stylist-selected wardrobe, this one made of lavender silk, the colour like the last vestiges of sunset. It dipped daringly low in the front and then nipped in at the waist before flaring out around her legs. She left her hair down and her feet bare and went without make-up. It seemed ridiculous to bother with eyeliner or lipstick when they were on a secluded beach and the sea wind and salt air would mess them both up anyway.
Leo seemed to agree, for he took in her appearance with no more than a slight nod, yet she still felt the strength of his response, the leashed desire.
And something else. Something she didn’t like—a coolness in his expression, a reserve in his manner. He didn’t speak as he took her hand and led her to the table set up on the sand.
Still she was achingly aware of him, more now than ever before: the subtle, spicy scent of his aftershave; the dry warmth of his palm as he took her hand; the latent strength of his stride as she fell into step next to him.
‘What shall we do tomorrow?’ she asked brightly when they’d sat down and begun their starters, slices of succulent melon fanned out with paper-thin carpaccio. She was determined not to lose any ground, not to let him retreat back into his usual silence, as much as he might seem to want to. ‘Go for a hike?’
Leo’s mouth tightened and he speared a slice of melon. ‘I need to work tomorrow.’
‘Work?’ Disappointment crashed over her but with effort she kept her smile in place, her voice light. ‘This is your honeymoon, Leo.’
He pinned her with a steely gaze. ‘I have duties, Alyse.’
‘And what will the staff think of you ignoring your bride on the second full day of our holiday?’ she asked, unable to keep herself from it even though she didn’t want to bring up the whole pretence of their relationship. She wanted to talk about how it was becoming more real. Or it had seemed to be, this afternoon.
‘I’m sure they’ll understand. Being in love doesn’t mean we live in each other’s pockets. The last six years have proved that. We spent most of the time apart and yet no one seemed to have any trouble believing we were wildly, passionately in love.’
That wasn’t quite true, Alyse knew. When the media hadn’t been celebrating their grand romance, it had been trying to create division: publishing incriminating-looking photos, composing pages and pages of speculation that she’d feared contained more than a grain of truth.
Leo looking for love with Duke’s daughter Liana?
The memory still hurt.
‘I realise that,’ she told him when she trusted herself to speak as evenly as he had. ‘But this is our honeymoon.’
‘And you know just what kind of honeymoon it is.’
‘What is that supposed to mean?’
‘We’re pretending,’ he clarified, his voice cool. ‘We always will be.’
‘I haven’t forgotten.’ Alyse stared at him. His face was as blank as it ever had been, all traces of humour and happiness completely gone.
Today had been so sweet, so wonderful and so full of hope. She hated that they’d lost so much ground so quickly.
And why? Just because of that moment on the boat, when Leo had mentioned the dreaded L-word?
Was he actually spooked? Afraid?
The thought seemed ridiculous; Leo was always so confident, so assured. And yet Alyse couldn’t think of another reason for his sudden and utter withdrawal.
The friendship—the intimacy—that had been growing between them had him scared.
The thought almost restored her hope. Scared was better than indifferent. Still, she knew there was no point pressing the issue now. That didn’t mean she was going to let him off the hook quite so easily.
‘I suppose I can entertain myself easily enough for a day,’ she said lightly, and saw the flicker of surprise ripple across Leo’s features that she was capitulating so easily. ‘What work do you have to do?’ she continued, and the surprise on his face intensified into discomfort. Alyse almost smiled. ‘Are you working on that proposal for broadband?’
‘Some paperwork,’ he answered after a pause, his voice gruff, but Alyse was determined not to let the conversation sputter out. He would let her in, one way or another. Even if he was scared.
‘Will you put the proposal before the Cabinet? That’s how it works, isn’t it? A constitutional monarchy.’
‘Yes. I hope to put it before them eventually. It’s not one of my father’s priorities.’
‘Why not?’
Leo shrugged. ‘My father has always been more interested in enjoying the benefits of being king rather than fulfilling his royal responsibilities.’
‘But you’re different.’
A light blazed briefly in his eyes. ‘I hope so.’
‘I think you are.’ She spoke softly, and was gratified to see something like surprised pleasure lift the corners of Leo’s mouth before he glanced away.
‘I hope I can match you as queen.’ She meant to sound light but the words came out in a rush of sincerity. ‘I want to be a credit to you, Leo.’
‘You already are. The fact that the public fell in love with you six years ago has been a huge boon to our country. You of all people must know the power of that photograph.’
She nodded slowly. ‘Yes, but more than that. I want to do something more than just smile and shake hands.’
‘Understandably, but don’t sell a smile and a handshake short. It’s more than my parents ever did.’
‘Is it?’
‘One of the reasons they were so keen for our engagement to go ahead is because they’d damaged the monarchy nearly beyond repair,’ Leo said flatly. He speared a slice of beef with a little more vigour than necessary.
‘How?’
He shrugged. ‘Very public affairs, careless spending, a complete indifference to their people. It’s hard to say which aspect of their lives was the most damaging.’
And he’d grown up in that environment. ‘It doesn’t sound like a very happy place to have your childhood,’ she said quietly.
‘I didn’t. I went to boarding school when I was six.’
‘Six?’
‘I didn’t mind.’ A waiter had materialised on the edge of the beach and with a flick of his fingers Leo indicated for him to come forward. Alyse had a feeling he’d had enough of personal conversation, but at least he’d shared something. More than he ever had before.
Leo hadn’t meant to say so much. Reveal so much. How did she do it? he wondered. How did she sneak beneath the defences he’d erected as a boy, had had firmly in place for so long? He never talked about his parents, or himself, or anything. He’d always preferred it that way and yet in these unguarded moments he discovered he almost enjoyed the conversation. The sharing.
So much for getting this relationship back on the footing he’d wanted: impersonal. Unthreatening.
Frustration blazed through him. No more friendship. No more conversation. There was only one thing he wanted from Alyse, and he would have it. Tonight.
Over the next few courses of their meal she made a few attempts at conversation and Leo answered politely enough without encouraging further talk. Still, she tried, and he had to admire her determination.
She wouldn’t give up. Well, neither would he.
The moon had risen in the sky, sending its silver rays sliding over the placid surface of the sea. The waiter brought them both tiny glasses of liqueurs and a plate of petit fours and then left them alone, retreating silently back to the main resort.
All around them the night seemed very quiet, very still, the only sound the gentle lap of the waves against the sand. In the moonlit darkness, Alyse looked almost ethereal, her hair floating softly about her shoulders, her silvery eyes soft—yes, eyes could be soft, and thoughtful.
Desire tightened inside him and he took a sip of the sweet liqueur, felt its fire join the blaze already ignited in his belly. He wanted her, just as he’d told her that afternoon, and he would have her tonight.
And it wouldn’t be making love.
They sat in silence for a few more moments, sipping their liqueurs, when Leo decided he’d had enough. He placed his glass on the table with deliberate precision. ‘It’s getting late,’ he said, and Alyse’s gaze widened before she swallowed audibly. Leo smiled and stood, stretching one hand out to her.
She rose and took it, her fingers slender and feeling fragile in his as he drew her from the table and across the sand to their sleeping quarters.
While they’d been eating some of the staff had prepared their hut for the night. The sheets had been turned down and candles lit on either side of the bed, the dancing flames sending flickering shadows across the polished wooden floor.
The perfect setting for romance, for love, but Leo pushed that thought away. He stood in front of the bed and turned her to face him; her bare shoulders were soft and warm beneath his hands.
She shivered and he couldn’t tell if it was from desire or nervousness. Perhaps both. He knew he needed to go slowly, even though the hunger inside him howled for satiation and release.
He slid his hands up from her shoulders to cup her face, his thumbs tracing the line of her jaw, her skin like silk beneath his fingers. ‘Don’t be nervous,’ he said softly, for now that they were in the moment he still wanted to reassure her, even if he didn’t want to engage his emotions.
‘I’m not,’ she answered, but her voice choked and she looked away.
In answer he brushed a feathery kiss across her jaw before settling his mouth on hers, his tongue tracing the seam of her lips, gently urging her to part for him.
And she did, her mouth yielding to his, her arms coming around him as he drew her pliant softness against him, loving the way her body curved and melted into his.
He kissed her deeply, sliding his hands from her face to her shoulders and then her hips, drawing her close to him, fitting her against the already hard press of his arousal. Desire shot up through him with fiery arrows of sizzling sensation and he felt her shudder in response.
Gently, slowly, he drew the thin straps of her dress down her shoulders. Alyse stood still, her gaze fastened on him as he reached behind her, and with one sensuous tug had her dress unzipped. It slithered down her body and pooled on the floor, leaving her in only a skimpy white lace bra and matching pants—honeymoon underwear, barely serving their purpose, unless it was to inflame—which it did.
Leo let his gaze travel slowly across her barely clothed body, revelling in the beauty of her, desire coiling tighter and tighter inside him.
He placed one hand on her shoulder, sliding it down to her elbow, smoothing her skin. She drew a shuddering breath.
‘Are you cold?’
‘No.’ She shook her head and, needing to touch her more—everywhere—he slid his hand from her elbow to her breast, his palm cupping its slight fullness as he drew his thumb across the aching peak. Alyse let out a little gasp and he smiled, felt the primal triumph of making her respond.
‘I know this is new for you,’ he said quietly and he saw a flash of something almost like anguish in her eyes.
‘Leo...’ She didn’t say anything more and he didn’t want to waste time or energy on words. Smiling, he brushed a kiss across her forehead and then across her mouth before he unhooked her bra and slid it off her arms. He drew her to him, her bare breasts brushing the crisp cotton of his shirt, and even that sensation made him ache. He wanted her so very much.
‘What about your clothes?’ she asked shakily and he arched an eyebrow.
‘What about mine?’
‘They’re on you, for starters.’
He laughed softly. ‘I suppose you could do something about that.’
Her fingers shook only a little as she fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, the tips of her fingers brushing his bare chest. He stood still, everything in him dark and hot from just those tiny touches. Then she finished unbuttoning it and pulled it off his shoulders, her gaze hungry as she let it rove over him, making him darker and hotter still.
His breathing hitched as she smoothed her hands over his chest, down to his abdomen, and then with a little, mischievous smile her fingers slipped under the waistband of his trousers.
He sucked in a hard breath as with her other hand she tugged on the zip, her fingers skimming the hard length of his erection. ‘Alyse...’
‘Only fair,’ she whispered with a trembling laugh, and Leo’s voice lowered to a growl as he answered,
‘I’ll show you fair.’
He pulled her even closer to him so her breasts were crushed against his bare chest and kissed her with a savage passion he hadn’t even known he possessed, the self-control he’d prided himself on for so long slipping away, lost in a red tide of desire.
And she responded, her arms coming up around him, her tongue tangling with his as she matched him kiss for kiss, their breathing coming in ragged gasps as the shy gentleness of their undressing turned into something raw and powerful and almost harsh in its intensity.
He’d never felt like this before. Felt so much before. He wanted and needed her too much to be alarmed or afraid by the power of her feelings—or his own.
Alyse’s mind was dazed with desire as Leo drew her to the bed. Ever since he’d led her from the dinner table she’d tried to find a way to tell him the truth, that she wasn’t a virgin. His obvious assumption made the need for disclosure all the more vital, yet somehow the words wouldn’t come. And when Leo had kissed her, and undressed her, and touched her...
Then she’d had no words at all.
She didn’t remember how they ended up lying on the bed, Leo sliding off her underwear and then his own so they were both completely naked. It had all happened so quickly, yet she felt as if she’d been waiting for this moment for ever.
And still she hadn’t told him. Maybe later, she thought hazily as Leo bent his head to her breast and she raked his shoulders with her nails, her body arching off the bed as he flicked his tongue against her heated, over-sensitised skin. After. She’d tell him after.
She felt Leo’s hand between her thighs, his fingers sliding deftly to the damp warmth between them and her hips arched instinctively as he found her centre.
‘You’re lovely,’ he murmured as he touched her, brushing kisses across her mouth, her jaw, her throat. ‘So lovely.’
‘You are too,’ Alyse answered, her voice uneven, and he laughed softly.
He slid a finger inside her and she felt her muscles instinctively clench around him. A wave of pleasure crashed over and drowned out any possible attempts at speech or thought. Leo’s touch was so knowing, so assured, and her fingernails dug into the bunched muscles of his shoulders as he rolled over her, his clever fingers replaced by the hard press of his erection.
Alyse arched her hips, welcoming this glorious invasion, the sense of completeness she ached to feel with every fibre of her being.
‘This might hurt just a little,’ he whispered and she closed her eyes against a sudden, soul-quenching rush of shame.
She couldn’t lie to him, not even by her silence. Not now, not about this.
‘It won’t, Leo,’ she choked, her anguish all too apparent to both of them. ‘I’m—I’m not a virgin.’
She felt him poised above her, could feel the heat and strength of him so close to her; another inch or two and he’d be inside her, as she so desperately wanted. She arched her hips reflexively, but he didn’t move.
Alyse let out a shudder of both longing and despair. Clearly she picked her moments well.
Leo swore under his breath and eased back. ‘What a time to tell me,’ he said, his voice coming out in a groan.
‘I didn’t—didn’t know how to tell you,’ she whispered miserably.
Leo rolled onto his back and stared up at the woven-grass roof of the hut, his chest heaving with the effort of stopping at such a critical moment.
‘Obviously it’s a distressing memory,’ he said after a moment, his eyes still on the roof. ‘You must have been very young.’
‘It was.’ She took a breath, hating that they were talking about this now, in such an intimate moment, a moment that had seconds ago promised tenderness and pleasure and perhaps even the first fragile shoots of a deeper and more sacred emotion. ‘And I wasn’t that young. I was twenty.’
She felt Leo still next to her, every muscle in his body seeming to go rigid. Then he turned his head to stare at her, and everything in Alyse quailed at the sight of the cold blankness in his eyes. ‘Twenty?’
‘Yes—at university.’
‘You slept with someone at university?’ he repeated, sounding so disbelieving that Alyse flinched.
‘Yes—do we have to talk about this?’
‘I don’t particularly relish the conversation myself.’ In one fluid movement Leo sat up and reached for his boxers.
Alyse felt her throat thicken as disappointment and frustrated desire rushed through her. ‘Leo, I’m sorry. I suppose I should have told you earlier, but we never had any remotely intimate conversations, and frankly I just wanted to forget it ever happened. That’s no excuse, I know.’ He finished sliding on his boxers and just picked up his shirt. ‘Are you—are you angry? That I’m not a virgin?’
He let out a bark of humourless laughter and turned to face her. He looked as cold and remote as he ever had—only worse, because she’d seen his face softened in sleep or with a smile, his eyes warm with laughter and then hot with desire. Now he was reverting once more to the icy stranger she knew, the man who made her despair. ‘You think I’m angry that you’re not a virgin?’
‘Well—yes.’
He shook his head, the movement seeming one of both incredulity and contempt. ‘That would be a bit of a double standard, since I’m not one.’
She swallowed, surprised. ‘I know, but it’s always been different for men, hasn’t it? And the whole princess thing...’
‘This has nothing to do with the princess thing,’ Leo answered her shortly. ‘And I don’t believe in double standards. If I seem angry, Alyse, it’s not because you’ve had sex before. It’s because you had sex while you were engaged to me.’
And, before she could even process that statement, he had yanked on his trousers and was heading out into the night.
