Читать книгу The Wedding Party Collection - Кейт Хьюит, Aimee Carson - Страница 74
ОглавлениеWHEN SHE WOKE Leo was still stretched out beside her, a slight smile curving his mouth and softening his features. Alyse gazed at him unreservedly for a moment and then, feeling bold, brushed a kiss against that smiling mouth.
Leo’s eyes fluttered open and his hands came up to her shoulders, holding her there against him.
‘That’s a rather nice way to wake up,’ he said, and before she could respond he shifted her body so she was lying fully on top of him, the press of his arousal against her belly.
‘I think you might have an even nicer way in mind,’ she murmured as Leo slid his hand from her shoulder to her breast, his palm cupping its fullness.
‘I certainly do,’ he said, and neither of them spoke for a little while after that.
* * *
Later, when they’d showered and dressed and were eating breakfast in a private dining room, Alyse asked him what his plans were for the day. Despite their morning love-making, in the bright light of day she felt some of her old uncertainties steal back. Perhaps Leo was content to enjoy their intimacy at night while still keeping himself apart during the day, consumed with work and royal duty.
Sitting across from him, sneaking glances at his stern profile, she was conscious of how little he’d said last night. I don’t know how much I have to give. Really, in most relationships—if they even had a relationship—that would have been a warning, or at least a disclaimer. Not the promise she, in her naïvely and ridiculous hope, had believed it to be.
Leo considered her question. ‘I have a meeting this morning with some Cabinet members about a new energy bill. But I’m free this afternoon. I thought—perhaps—I could give you a tour of the palace? You haven’t actually seen much of it.’
Alyse felt a smile bloom across her face and some of those uncertainties scattered. Some, not all. Leo smiled back, a look of boyish uncertainty on his face.
‘That sounds wonderful,’ she said, and his smile widened, just as hers did.
They talked about other things then, a conversation that was wonderfully relaxed and yet also strangely new, exchanging views on films and books; relating anecdotes they’d never thought to share in the last six years. Simply getting to know one another.
After breakfast Leo excused himself to get ready for his meeting and Alyse went upstairs to unpack. She spent the morning in her room, catching up on correspondence and tidying her things before she went down to lunch.
Sophia had gone out for the day, thankfully, and Alessandro was otherwise occupied, so it was just her, Leo and Alexa at the lunch table.
‘So how is married life, you two?’ Alexa asked after the footman had served them all and retired. ‘Bliss?’
Leo smiled faintly and shook his head. ‘Don’t be cynical, Lex.’
‘You’re telling me not to be cynical?’
‘Wonders never cease,’ Leo answered dryly, and Alexa raised her eyebrows.
‘So marriage has changed you.’
Alyse held her breath as Leo took a sip of his water, his face thoughtful and yet also frustratingly blank. ‘A bit,’ he finally answered, not meeting anyone’s gaze. Although she knew she shouldn’t be, Alyse felt a rush of disappointment.
She took a steadying breath and focused on her own lunch. She knew she needed to be patient. Last night had changed things, but it was all still so new. She had to give it—him, them—time to strengthen and grow. Time for Leo truly to believe he could change.
Believe he could love.
After lunch Leo took her on a grand tour of the palace. They wandered through a dozen sun-dappled salons, empty and ornate, their footsteps echoing on the marble floors.
‘This must have been great for hide and seek,’ Alyse commented as they stood in one huge room decorated with portraits of his ancestors and huge pieces of gilt furniture. She tried to picture two dark-haired, solemn-eyed brothers playing in the room. Had Leo and his brother Alessandro been close? Had he missed him when he’d left? She had so many questions, but she knew Leo wasn’t ready for her to ask them.
‘I didn’t really play in these rooms,’ Leo answered, his hands shoved into his pockets, his gaze distant as he let it rove around the room. ‘We were mostly confined to the nursery.’
‘We?’ Alyse prompted, and his expression didn’t even flicker.
‘The children. And of course, as I told you before, I went to boarding school when I was six.’
‘That’s rather young, isn’t it? To go away.’
He shrugged. ‘It was what my parents wanted.’
She thought of the remote King, the haughty Queen. Not the most loving of parents. ‘Did you miss them?’
‘No. You don’t miss what you’ve never had.’ She didn’t think he was going to say anything more, but then he took a deep breath and continued, his gaze focused on the sunshine spilling through the window. ‘If you’ve ever wondered how my parents got the idea of having us pretend to be in love, it’s because that’s all they’ve ever done. They were only interested in me or my— Or any of us when someone was watching.’ His mouth twisted. ‘A photo opportunity to show how much they loved us. As soon as it passed, they moved on.’
‘But...’ Alyse hesitated, mentally reviewing all the magazine inserts and commemorative books she’d seen about Maldinian’s golden royal family: the posed portraits, the candid shots on the beach or while skiing. Everyone smiling, laughing.
Playing at happy families.
Was Leo really saying that his whole family life had been as much a masquerade as their engagement? She knew she shouldn’t be surprised, yet she was. It was so unbearably soulless, so terribly cold.
No wonder Leo didn’t believe in love.
Her heart ached for Leo as a boy, lonely and ignored. ‘That sounds very lonely,’ she said and he just shrugged.
‘I’m not sure I know what loneliness is. It was simply what I was used to.’ Yet she didn’t believe that; she couldn’t. What child didn’t long for love and affection, cuddles and laughter? It was innate, impossible to ignore.
But not to suppress. Which was what it seemed Leo had done for his whole life, she thought sadly. Now her heart ached not just for Leo as a boy, but for the man he’d become, determined not to need anyone. Not to love anyone or want to be loved back—only to be let down.
‘Anyway.’ He turned from the window to face her, eyebrows raised. ‘What about you? You’re an only child. Did you ever want siblings?’
She recognised the attempt to steer the conversation away from himself and accepted it. He’d already revealed more than she’d ever anticipated or even hoped for. ‘Yes, I did,’ she admitted. ‘But my parents made it clear there wouldn’t be any more from a rather early age.’
‘Why was that? Did they have trouble conceiving?’
‘No. They just didn’t want any more.’ She saw the flicker of surprise cross his face and explained, ‘They were happy with me—and mainly with each other. They were a real love match, you know. They may not be royalty, but they’ve still been featured in magazines. Their romance was a fairy tale.’ Her voice came out a little flat, and Leo noticed.
‘Your mother’s some kind of American heiress, isn’t she?’
‘Her father owned a chain of successful hotels. My uncle runs it now, but my mother was called the Brearley Heiress before she married.’
‘And your father?’
‘A French financier. They met at a ball in Paris—saw each other across a crowded room and that was it.’ She gave him a rather crooked smile. ‘You might not believe in love at first sight, but that’s how it was for them.’
Leo didn’t speak for a moment and when he finally did it was to ask, ‘And growing up in the shadow of that...how was it for you?’
And with that telling question he’d gone right to the heart of the matter. ‘Hard, sometimes,’ Alyse confessed quietly. ‘I love my parents, and I have no doubts whatsoever that they love me. But...it was always the two of them and the one of me, if that makes sense. They’ve always been wrapped up in each other, which is how it should be...’
She trailed off, realising belatedly how whingy she must sound, complaining about how much her parents loved each other. Leo had grown up in a household of bitterness and play-acting, and here she was saying her own home had had too much love? She felt ridiculous and ashamed.
‘But it was lonely,’ Leo finished softly. ‘Or so I imagine, for a little girl on her own.’
‘Sometimes,’ she whispered. She felt a lump rise in her throat and swallowed hard. Leo reached for her hand, threading her fingers with his, and the simple contact touched her deep inside.
‘Strange, how we grew up in two such different families and homes,’ he murmured. ‘Yet perhaps, in an odd way, our experience was just a little bit the same.’
‘I can’t complain, not really.’
‘You weren’t complaining. I asked a question and you answered it.’ He drew her towards him, his one hand still linked with hers while the other tangled itself in her hair. ‘But perhaps now we can put our families behind us. We’ll start our own family, one day.’ His smile was knowing and teasingly lascivious as he brushed her lips against his. ‘Maybe today.’
‘Maybe,’ Alyse whispered shakily. They hadn’t used birth control, hadn’t even discussed it—and why should they? An heir was part of the package, part of her responsibility as Leo’s bride and Maldinia’s future queen.
Leo’s baby.
She wanted it: him, the promise of a new family, a family created by love. Leo broke the kiss. Patience. This was still so new, still just a beginning.
But a wonderful one, and with a smile still on her lips she leaned forward and kissed him back.
* * *
Alyse gazed at her reflection in the mirror, smoothing the silver gown she was to wear for tonight’s reception in one of London’s most exclusive clubs. It had been four days since they’d returned from St Cristos, four wonderful days—and nights.
She still had to guard herself from leaping ahead, from longing for more than Leo was ready to offer. I don’t know how much I have to give. And yet he was giving, and trying, and with every new conversation, every shared joke or smile, every utterly amazing night, she knew she was falling in love with him. Falling in love with the real him, the Leo she’d never even known.
She loved discovering that man, learning his habits, preferences and his funny little quirks, like the fact that he had to read the entire page of a newspaper, even the adverts, before turning to another; or that he liked chess but hated draughts.
And she loved learning the taut map of his body and hearing the shudder of pleasure that ripped through him when she kissed or touched him in certain places...
Just remembering made longing sweep through her body in a heated wave.
It hadn’t all been perfect, of course. The strictures of palace life, of their royal appearances, had created moments of unspoken tension and Leo’s inevitable emotional withdrawal. Just that morning they’d appeared in front of the palace to fly to London, and at the sight of the cheering crowds they’d both frozen before Alyse had started forward, smiling and waving.
‘How is married life?’ one young woman had asked her.
‘More than I’d ever hoped for,’ she’d answered.
The woman had beamed and Alyse had moved on, but she’d caught a glimpse of Leo out of the corner of her eye and uneasily noted his stony expression.
They didn’t talk until they were in the royal jet, flying to London. Leo had snapped open his newspaper and, scanning the headlines, had remarked, ‘More than you’d ever hoped, eh?’
Alyse had blushed. ‘Well...’
‘Somehow I think you hope for a bit more,’ he’d said softly, and her blush had intensified. She was trying so hard to be patient and accepting, but everything in her yearned for more. For love. Leo had glanced away. ‘I don’t know why,’ he said, ‘but the pretending feels harder now. More like a lie.’
Alyse understood what he meant. The deception cut deeper, now that there was actually something between them. Pretending you were in love when you felt nothing, as Leo had, was easier than when you felt just a little. She had a feeling their pretence was making Leo realise how little he still felt, and that wasn’t a revelation she felt like discussing.
Sighing now, she turned away from the mirror. Patience.
A knock sounded on the door of her bedroom. Despite their honeymoon status, she and Leo had been given a royal suite with two bedrooms in the hotel where they were staying, and their luggage had been delivered to separate rooms. They’d dressed for the reception separately, Alyse with her small army of stylists hired by Queen Sophia and flown in from Paris.
‘Are you ready?’ Leo called from behind the door. ‘The car is here.’
‘Yes, I’m coming.’ She opened the door, her breath catching at the sight of Leo at his most debonair and dignified in a white tie and tails. Then she saw the lines of tension bracketed from nose to mouth and fanning from his eyes. She couldn’t ignore the stiltedness that had developed between them since they’d stepped back into the spotlight, and she didn’t know how to overcome it. Everything between them felt too new and fragile to be tested like this.
Leo nodded in the direction of her fitted gown of silver satin; from a diamanté-encrusted halter-top it skimmed her breasts and hips and then flared out around her knees to fall in sparkly swirls to the floor. ‘That’s quite a gown. The stylists chose well.’
‘I suppose they felt I needed to make a splash, since this is our first public appearance as husband and wife.’
‘Yes, I have a feeling tonight will have us both firmly in the spotlight.’ Leo’s mouth tightened and Alyse tried to smile.
‘We did get a whole week away from it,’ she said. ‘And it’s only one evening, after all.’
‘One of many.’ Leo slid his arm through hers. ‘We should go. There are reporters outside.’
Once again flashbulbs went off in front of her as they stepped out of the hotel. Their car was waiting with several security guards to shepherd them from one door to another, but they paused on the threshold to smile and wave at the blurred faces in front of them. Leo’s arm felt like a steel band under hers, his muscles corded with tension.
As they slid into the darkened sanctuary of the car, she felt him relax marginally, his breath coming out in a tiny sigh of relief.
‘How have you stood it for so long?’ she asked as she adjusted the folds of her dress around her. They were slippery to hold, and glittered even in the dim light of the car’s interior.
‘Stood what?’
‘Being on display.’
He shrugged. ‘It’s all I’ve ever known.’
‘But you don’t like it.’
‘I suppose I’m getting tired of it,’ he allowed. ‘It’s been going on for a long time.’
‘Since you were a child?’
‘More or less.’ He turned away from her then, so she could only see the shadowy profile of his cheek and jaw as he stared out of the window.
She couldn’t imagine living like that for so long. The last six years had been challenging enough, with her intermittent public appearances, and she at least had had the escape of university and a relatively normal life. Leo never had, had never experienced anything really normal—or perhaps even real.
‘We’re here.’
The car had pulled up in front of one of London’s exclusive clubs on Pall Mall, and another contingent of photographers and journalists waited by the doors.
They didn’t pose for photographs or answer questions as the security hustled them from the car to the door, and then inside to the hushed foyer of the club. Yet even inside that hallowed place Alyse was conscious of a different kind of scrutiny: the hundred or so privileged guests who mingled in the club’s ballroom were eyeing them with discreet but still noticeable curiosity. The Prince and his Cinderella bride; of course people were curious. Even alone in Durham she’d received those kinds of looks, had seen herself on the covers of magazines. She’d tried not to let it bother her, had made herself shrug it off and focus on the positives, on engaging with the public in as real a way as she could.
Yet she felt different now, and it wasn’t because of the looks or the photos or the endless attention and publicity. It was because of Leo. She watched him out of the corner of her eye as he fetched them both champagne, talking and nodding with some important person, a stuffy-looking man with greying hair and a paunch. Alyse thought he looked vaguely familiar, but she didn’t know his name.
And Leo... Leo looked remarkably at ease, the tension he’d shown earlier firmly masked and hidden away. He put his arm around her waist, and even as she thrilled to his touch, as always, Alyse felt a chill creep into her soul because how on earth could she actually tell when her husband was being real?
Perhaps the last week had been as much about pretending as tonight. Perhaps Leo didn’t even know how to be real.
‘You need to smile,’ Leo murmured, his own face set into easy, relaxed lines. ‘You’re looking tense.’
‘Sorry.’ Alyse tried to smile. This was so hard now, so much harder than it had ever been before. She was sick to death of pretending, sick of all this fear and uncertainty. Sick of wondering just what Leo felt for her, if anything.
‘Now you look terrified,’ Leo remarked in a low voice and she felt his arm tense around her waist. ‘What’s wrong? We’ve done this before.’
‘It feels different now,’ Alyse whispered. She felt different. But she had no idea if Leo did.
‘It shouldn’t,’ he answered shortly, and steered her towards a crowd of speculative socialites. She forced herself to widen her wobbly smile, feeling more heartsick and uncertain than ever.
* * *
Leo fought the urge to tear off his white tie and stride from the club without a backward glance. Every second of this evening had been interminable, and the falseness of his and Alyse’s behavior rubbed him horribly raw. He’d never minded before or, if he had, he’d shrugged it off. He’d had to. He’d always had to.
Yet now... Now the pretence irritated and even sickened him. The last week had been difficult at times, uncomfortable at others, but it had been real—or at least as real as he knew anything to be. The days and nights he’d spent with Alyse had fed something in him, a hunger he’d never known he had. He wanted more even as he doubted whether he should—or could.
He glanced again at Alyse, her eyes troubled even as she smiled at someone, and he desired nothing more in this moment than to take her in his arms and strip that shimmery gown from her body, let it slide into a silver puddle at her feet...
Her smile, he thought, looked decidedly wooden. Why was it so hard to pretend to be in love, when they’d been getting along better than ever? It should have been easier, but it wasn’t. Friendship had complicated things, he thought darkly, just as he’d predicted. The parody of head-over-heels emotion they were enacting now only made their real relationship—whatever that was—seem paltry in comparison...and he had a feeling Alyse knew it.
I don’t know how much I have to give. The words had come from him with sudden, startling honesty, because in that moment after they’d first made love he hadn’t known what he was going to say, only that everything had changed.
But perhaps it hadn’t changed. Perhaps even that had been nothing more than a mirage, a fantasy, just as tonight was. Everything in his life—every emotion, every caress, kiss or loving touch—had been faked. How on earth could he expect this to be real?
He didn’t even know what real was.
Two hours later they were back in the car, speeding towards their hotel in Mayfair. All around them the lights of the city glittered under a midsummer drizzle, the pavement slick and gleaming with rain. Alyse hadn’t spoken since they’d got into the car and Leo eyed her now, her face averted from him so he could only see the soft, sweet curve of her cheek, the surprising strength of her jaw. He longed to touch her.
He didn’t.
This was their life now, he reminded himself. This pretending. No matter what might be developing between them, neither of them could escape the grim reality that every time they stepped outside of the palace they would be pretending to feel something else.
A simple, emotionless business arrangement would really be easier.
Yet, even as he told himself that, he couldn’t keep from reaching for her as soon as they were back in their suite. She came willingly, her dress whispering against his legs, but he saw shadows in her eyes and her lip trembled before she bit it. He wanted to banish it all: the party, the pretence, the doubt and fear he felt in her now—and in himself. He wanted to make her smile, and the only way he knew of doing that was to kiss her, so he did.
Gently at first, but then he felt the softness of her mouth, the surrender of her sigh, and he drove his fingers into her hair, scattering all the diamond-tipped pins, as he pressed her against the wall of the foyer and devoured her with his kiss.
Alyse responded in kind and he felt a raw desperation in both of their need, a hunger to forget all the play-acting tonight and simply lose themselves in this—perhaps the only real thing they shared.
And lose himself he did, sliding his hands under the slippery satin of her gown, bunching it heedlessly about her hips as she wrapped her legs around his waist and he drove into her, lost himself inside her, his face buried in the warm curve of her neck as her body shook with pleasure.
They didn’t speak afterwards and silently Leo led her from the foyer, leaving the hair pins and her shoes scattered on the floor. He peeled the dress from her body and shrugged off his own clothes before he drew her to the bed, wrapped his body around her and tried to shut out the world.
He woke several hours later, the room still swathed in darkness, and a glance at the clock told him it was an hour or so before dawn. He felt relentlessly awake and silently he slipped from Alyse’s embrace, leaving her sleeping in his bed.
In the sitting room he powered up his laptop, determined to do a few hours’ work before Alyse woke. They had engagements planned all day today, and they flew to Paris tonight for yet another reception, another full day tomorrow, yet another day of pretending. He pushed the thought away.
He would focus on work, the one thing that gave him satisfaction, a sense of purpose. He still needed to work on the wording of the bill for parliament regarding improvements to Maldinia’s technological infrastructure, something his father had never remotely cared about.
He opened an Internet browser on his laptop to check his email and stopped dead when he saw that morning’s news headline blaring across the screen:
Cinderella’s Secret Lover Tells All.
Slowly he clicked on the article and scanned the first paragraph.
Prince Leo and his bride have always been the stuff of a fairy tale, and perhaps that’s all it has been—for Matthew Cray, a student with the new princess at Durham University, has confessed to having a secret love affair with Alyse...
The game was up, Leo thought numbly. Everyone would know their relationship was fake, just as every relationship he’d ever had was fake. Sickened, he sat back in his chair. His mind spun with the implications of the article, the damage control that would need to be done—and quickly. But underneath the practicalities he felt something he hated to feel, didn’t want to acknowledge now—the pain of hurt, the agonising ache of betrayal. He knew it wasn’t fair; he’d forgiven Alyse, and it had been a long time ago anyway.
But seeing it all there on the page, knowing she’d convinced herself she loved him when she really hadn’t...why should now be any different?
There’s no such thing as love, he reminded himself brutally. You’ve been playing at it this last week, but it’s not real. It can’t be. And, swearing under his breath, he clicked on another glaring headline and began to read.
