Читать книгу Modern Romance August 2016 Books 5-8 - Дженнифер Хейворд, Louise Fuller - Страница 18

CHAPTER NINE

THE MAY BALL was the biggest event in the palace calendar, and Lisa planned her first formal introduction to the people of Mardovia with the precision of a military campaign. She ordered a bolt of crimson silk satin and made a gown specially designed to showcase the ruby and diamond necklace from the royal collection.

For hours she worked to the familiar and comforting sound of the sewing machine, painstakingly finishing off the gown with some careful hand stitching. She would surprise Luc with her dress, yes. Her pulse began to race. And not just at the ball. Her self-imposed sex ban had gone on for long enough and now she wanted him in her arms again. He had heeded her words and treated her with respect. Night after night he had lain beside her without attempting to touch her—even though there had been times when she’d wished he would. When that slow heat would build low in her belly, making her want to squirm with frustration as he slept beside her.

She finished the dress to her satisfaction but as she got ready for the ball she felt shot with nerves—because what if Luc had decided he no longer wanted her? What if their stand-off had killed his desire for her? Smoothing down the full-length skirt, she stared at her reflected image in the mirror. He had to want her.

She thought back to how she’d felt when she had first arrived here, when she’d married him under duress and had been apprehensive about what lay ahead. But he had respected her wishes and not touched her. And as he had gradually opened up to her, so had her fears about the future diminished. For fear had no place in the heart of a mother-to-be and neither did selfishness. The life she had been prepared to embrace now seemed all wrong. She’d thought a lot about Luc’s lonely childhood and the repercussions of that. And she knew she couldn’t subject this baby to single parenthood without first giving her husband the chance to be a full-time father. And a full-time husband.

Her heart began thundering with an emotion she could no longer deny. Because when tonight’s ball was ended, she was going to take her husband in her arms and tell him she wanted them to start over. Tell him she was willing to try to create the kind of family unit which neither of them had ever had before. And then she was going to seduce him...

The woman in the mirror looked back at her with hope shining from her eyes and Lisa allowed herself a small smile. Years of working in the fashion industry had taught her to be impartial—especially about her own appearance. She knew that her already curvy body was swollen with child but she was also aware that never had she looked quite so radiant as she did tonight. Her hair was glossy and her skin was glowing. Her handmade dress was fitted tightly on the bodice and cleverly pleated at the front, so that it fell to the ground in a flattering silhouette. And the stark, square neckline provided the perfect setting for the real star of the show—the royal rubies which blazed like fire against her pale skin.

‘Lisa!’

She heard Luc calling and, picking up the full-length black velvet cloak lined with matching crimson satin, she slipped it around her shoulders. Luc would see her at the same time as all his subjects and friends, she thought happily. Tonight she was going to do him proud.

‘Nervous?’ he questioned as she walked alongside him through the flame-lit corridors in a rustle of velvet and silk.

‘A little,’ she admitted.

He glanced down at the dramatic fall of black velvet which covered her entire body. ‘Aren’t you going to show me this dress you’ve been working on so furiously?’

‘I will when we get there.’

‘Are you hiding your bump until the last minute? Is that it?’

‘Partly.’ Lisa felt the heavy necklace brushing against her throat and shivered a little as she pulled the cloak closer. ‘And I’m a little cold.’

But it wasn’t just nerves which were making her skin prickle with little goosebumps, because the fine weather which traditionally characterised the May Ball hadn’t materialised. As soon as Lisa had opened her eyes that morning, she’d realised something was different. For the first time since she’d been on the island, the sun wasn’t shining and the air was laced with an unseasonable chill. According to the servant who had served her breakfast, the temperamental wind they called Il Serpente was threatening to wreak havoc on the Mediterranean island.

But although the predinner drinks had now been moved inside, the palace looked more magnificent than Lisa had ever seen it. Dark roses threaded into ivy were woven around the tall ballroom pillars, giving the place a distinctly gothic feel, and more crimson roses decorated the long table where the meal would be served. The string section of the Mardovian orchestra was playing softly, but as soon as the trumpets announced her and Luc’s arrival they burst into the national anthem. As the stirring tune drew to a close, Lisa slipped the velvet cloak from her shoulders.

She was not expecting such an OTT reaction as the collective gasps from the guests who had assembled to greet the royal guests of honour. Nor for her to glance up into Luc’s face to find herself startled by the dark look stamped onto his features which seemed to echo the growing storm outside. Was her dress a mistake? Did the vibrant colour draw attention to the swell of her body, reminding the Prince and all his subjects of the real reason she was here?

‘Is something...wrong?’

Luc’s cold gaze was fixed on the blaze of jewels at her throat, but he must have been aware that everyone around them was listening because he curved his lips into a smile which did not meet his eyes. ‘Wrong?’ he questioned smoothly. ‘Why should there be anything wrong? You look exquisite. Utterly exquisite, ma chérie.’

But Lisa didn’t feel exquisite as she sat down to dinner, in front of all that shiny golden cutlery. She felt tawdry. As if she’d broken a fundamental rule which nobody had bothered to tell her about. What on earth was the matter? And then she glanced down the table and met Eleonora’s eyes and wondered if she was imagining the brief look of triumph which passed over the aide’s face.

Somehow she managed to get through the lavish meal, perversely relieved that protocol meant she wasn’t sitting next to her husband, because no way could she have eaten a thing if she’d been forced to endure another second of his inexplicable rage. She had lost her appetite anyway and merely picked at her food as she tried to respond to the Sultan of Qurhah’s amusing observations, when all she could think about was Luc’s forbidding posture. But it wasn’t until the dancing started and he came over to lead her imperiously onto the ballroom floor for the first dance that she found herself alone with him at last.

‘Something is wrong,’ she hissed as he slid his arms around her waist, but instead of it being a warm embrace, it felt as if she were locked inside a powerful vice. ‘Isn’t it? You’ve been glaring at me all evening. Luc, what’s the matter? What am I supposed to have done?’

‘Not here,’ he bit out. ‘I’m not having this discussion here.’

‘Then why are you bothering to dance with me?’

‘Because you are my wife and I must be seen to dance with you.’ His words were like ice. ‘To paint the illusion of marital bliss for my idealistic subjects. That is why.’

Distress welled up inside her and Lisa wanted to push him away from her. To flounce from the ballroom with her head held high so that nobody could see the glimmer of tears which were pricking at the backs of her eyes. But pride wouldn’t let her. She mustn’t give anyone the opportunity to brand her as some kind of hysteric. That would be a convenient category for a woman like her, wouldn’t it?

So she closed her eyes to avoid having to look at her husband and as she danced woodenly in his arms, she wondered how she could have been so stupid. Had she really thought that some silent truce had been declared between them? That they had reached a cautious kind of harmony?

Stupid Lisa, she thought bitterly. She had let it happen all over again. Despite everything she knew to be true, she had allowed herself to trust him. She had started to imagine a marriage they might be able to work at. A marriage which might just succeed.

Behind her tightly shut eyelids she willed away her tears and finished her dance with Luc, and afterwards she danced with the Sultan and then the cousin of the Sheikh of Jazratan. Somehow she managed to play the part expected of her, even though her smile felt as if it had been plastered to her lips like concrete.

But at least her late pregnancy gave her a solid reason to excuse herself early. She slipped away from the ballroom and had one of the servants bring her cloak, which she wrapped tightly around herself as she made her way back along the deserted corridors to their apartments.

Once inside the suite, she didn’t bother putting the lights on. She stood at the window and watched as the storm split open the skies. Forked lightning streaked like an angry silver weapon against the menacing clouds and the sound of thunder was almost deafening. But after a while she didn’t even see the elemental raging outside because the tears which were streaming down her face made her vision blurry. She dashed them away with an impatient hand, unsure of what to do next. Should she get ready for bed? Yet wouldn’t lying on that monstrous mattress in her nightgown make her even more vulnerable than she already felt?

So she rang for some camomile tea and had just finished drinking it when the doors were flung open and the silhouetted form of her husband stood on the threshold. He was breathing heavily and his body was hard and tense as he stared inside the room. She could tell that he was trying to adjust his vision to the dim light, but when he reached out to put on one of the lamps, she snapped out a single word.

‘Don’t.’

‘You like sitting in the dark?’

‘There’s nothing I particularly like right now, Luc. But somewhere near the top of my dislikes is having you try to control the situation yet again. If anyone’s going to put the light on, it’s going to be me. Understand?’ She snapped on the nearest lamp, steeling herself against the sight of his powerful body in the immaculate dress suit as he shut the door behind him with a shaking hand. And even though she felt the betraying stir of her senses, her anger was far more powerful than her desire. ‘Do you want to tell me what I’ve done wrong?’ she demanded. ‘What heinous crime I’m supposed to have committed?’

She could see the tension in his body increase and when he spoke, his words sounded as if they had been chipped from a block of ice. ‘Why the hell did you wear that necklace without running it past me first?’

For a moment she blinked in surprise. Because he’d told her to choose some jewels from the royal collection. Because Eleonora had drawn her attention to the undoubted star of the collection and quietly suggested that she ‘surprise’ her husband. Lisa opened her mouth to tell him that, but suddenly her curiosity was piqued. ‘I didn’t realise I had to run it past you first. You made no mention of any kind of vetting procedure. What was wrong with me wearing it?’

There was a pause as his face became shuttered and still his words were icy-cold. ‘That necklace was given to my mother by Princess Sophie’s mother. My mother wore it on her wedding day. It was—’

‘It was supposed to be worn by Sophie on the day of her marriage to you,’ finished Lisa dully, her heart clenching. ‘Only you never married her, like you were supposed to do. You married a stranger. A commoner. A woman heavy with your child who appeared at the ball tonight looking like some spectre at the feast. The wrong woman wearing the jewels.’

Her remarks were greeted by silence, but what could he possibly say? He could hardly deny the truth. Lisa ran her tongue over her lips. She supposed she could tell him it had been Eleonora’s subtle lead which had made her choose the rubies, but what good would that do? She would be like a child in the classroom, telling tales to the teacher. And it wouldn’t change the facts, would it? That she was like a cuckoo in the nest with no real place here. An outsider who would always be just that. The human incubator who carried the royal heir. Reaching up, she unclipped the necklace and pulled it from her neck, dropping it down onto a bureau so that it fell there in a spooling clatter of gems.

But as her anger bubbled up, so did something else—a powerful wave of frustration, fuelled by the sudden violent see-sawing of her hormones. For weeks now she’d been trying her best to fit in with this strange new life of hers. Night after night she had lain by his side, staring up at the ceiling while he had fallen into a deep sleep. She had been polite to the servants and tried to learn everything she could about Mardovia—only now he was treating her with all the contempt he might have reserved for some passing tramp who had stumbled uninvited into his royal apartment. How dared he? How dared he?

‘Well, damn you, Luc Leonidas!’ she cried, and she launched herself across the room and began to batter her fists hard against his chest. ‘Damn you to high heaven!’’

At first he tried to halt her by imprisoning her wrists, but that only made her kick even harder at his shins and he uttered something soft and eloquent in French—before swooping his mouth down on hers.

His kiss was hard—and angry—but his probing tongue met no resistance from her. On the contrary, it made her give a shuddering little moan of something like recognition—because she could do anger, too. So she kissed him back just as hard, even though he was now trying to pull away from her, something impossible to achieve when he was still holding her wrists. And then his grip on her loosened and she took that opportunity to stroke her fingertip down his cheek and then over the rasp of his chin. And although he shook his head when she continued down over his chest, he didn’t stop her—not until her hand reached his groin, where he was so hard for her that her body stiffened in anticipation.

‘Lisa, no,’ he warned unsteadily as she slid her palm over the rocky ridge beneath his trousers.

‘Luc, yes,’ she mimicked as she began to slide down the protesting zip.

After that there was no turning back. Nothing but urgent and hungry kissing as she freed his erection and gazed down at it with wide-eyed pleasure. But when she began to slide her finger and thumb up and down over the silken shaft, he batted her hand away then picked her up and carried her over to the bed. He set her down beside it, his eyes flicking over the long line of hooks which went all the way down the back of her dress, and his hands were shaking as he reached for the first.

‘No,’ she said, wriggling away from him as she pushed him down onto the bed. ‘It will take too long and I’m done with waiting. I’m not going to wait a second longer for this.’ With an air of determination, she began to tug off his trousers and boxer shorts, before slithering out of her panties and climbing on top of him, uncaring of her bulkiness. Not caring that this was wrong—because the powerful hunger which was pulsing through her body was blotting out everything but desire.

‘Lisa...’ His words sounded slurred and husky as her bare flesh brushed against his. He swallowed. ‘We can’t...we can’t do this.’

‘Oh, but we can. There are many things we can’t do, but this isn’t one of them.’ The red silk dress ballooned around her as she positioned herself over him, and she saw his eyes grow smoky as the tip of him began to push insistently against her wet heat.

‘But you’re...pregnant,’ he breathed.

‘You think I don’t know that?’ She gave a hollow laugh. ‘You think pregnant women don’t have sex? Then I put it to you that you, Luc Leonidas, with all your supposed experience of the female body, are very wrong.’ Slowly she lowered herself down onto his steely shaft, biting out a gasp as that first rush of pleasure hit her.

He lay there perfectly still as she began to rock forward and back and she could see the almost helpless look of desire on his face as her bulky body accustomed itself to the movements. And she liked seeing him like that. Powerful Prince Luc at her mercy. But her sense of victory only lasted until the first shimmerings of pleasure began to ripple over her body and then, of course, he took over. His hands anchored to her hips, he angled his own to increase the level of penetration while leaning forward to whisper soft little kisses over her satin-covered belly. And it was that which was her undoing. That which made her heart melt. His stupid show of tenderness which didn’t mean a thing.

Not a thing.

All it did was make her long for the impossible. For Luc to love her and want her and need her. And that was never going to happen.

But she could do nothing to stop the orgasm which caught her up and dragged her under, and as her body began to convulse around him she heard his own ragged groan. His arms tightened as he held her against him, his lips buried in the hard swell of her stomach as he kissed it, over and over again. For a while there was nothing but contentment as Lisa clung to him, listening to the muffled pounding of her heart.

But not for long. Once the pleasure began to ebb away, she forced herself to pull away from him, collapsing back against the pile of pillows and deliberately turning her face to the wall as a deep sense of shame washed over her. How could she? How could she have done that? Climbed on top of him with that out-of-control and wanton desire?

‘Lisa?’

She felt the warmth of his hand as he placed it over one tense shoulder and some illogical part of her wanted to sink back into his embrace and stay there. Because when he touched her it felt as if all the things she didn’t believe in had come true. It felt like love. And she couldn’t afford to think that way because love was nothing but an illusion. Especially with Luc.

She closed her eyes as she pushed his hand away, because she was through with illusions. With going back on everything she knew to be true and allowing herself to get sucked into fantasy. He was a man, wasn’t he? And no man could really be trusted. Did she need someone to carve it on a metal disc for her, so she could wear it around her neck? She needed to be strong enough to resist him and, for that, she needed him to go.

‘Lisa?’ Luc said again and his ragged sigh ruffled the curls at the back of her neck. ‘Look, I know I overreacted about the necklace and I’m sorry.’

She pulled away. ‘It doesn’t matter.’

‘It does matter.’

But she wasn’t in the mood to listen. She made herself yawn as she curled up into a ball—well, as much of a ball as her heavily pregnant state would allow. ‘I just want to go to sleep,’ she mumbled. ‘And I’d prefer to do it alone.’