Читать книгу Modern Romance August 2016 Books 5-8 - Дженнифер Хейворд, Louise Fuller - Страница 20
ОглавлениеIT WAS LIKE living in a bubble.
A shining golden bubble.
Lisa woke up every morning feeling as if she weren’t part of the outside world any more. As if her experience was nothing like that of other women in her situation—and she supposed that much was true. Most new mothers didn’t live in a beautiful palace with servants falling over themselves to make her life easier. And most new mothers didn’t have a husband who was barely able to look at them without a dark and sombre expression on his face.
She told herself to be grateful that Luc clearly adored their daughter, and she was. It made a lump stick in her throat to see how gentle he was with their baby. It was humbling to see such a powerful man being reduced to putty by the starfish hands of his daughter, which would curl themselves tightly around his fingers as she gazed up at him with blue eyes so like his own.
Lisa would sit watching him play with Rose, but the calm expression she wore didn’t reflect the turmoil she was feeling inside. Did Luc feel just as conflicted? she wondered. She didn’t know because they didn’t talk about it. They discussed the fact that their daughter had the bluest eyes in the world and the sweetest nature, but they didn’t talk about anything which mattered.
Before the birth he’d promised Lisa she could return to England, and she knew she had to broach the subject some time. But something was stopping her and that something was the voice of her conscience. She had started to wonder how she could possibly take Rose away from here, denying Luc the daily parenting he so clearly enjoyed.
Because Lisa had never had that kind of hands-on fathering. When her own father had died she’d been too young to remember if he cuddled her or read her stories at night. And she’d never really had the chance to ask her mother because she had remarried so quickly. All evidence of the man who had died had been ruthlessly eradicated from the house. Her new stepfather had been so intolerant of her and Brittany that the two little girls had walked around on eggshells, terrified of stirring up a rage which had never been far from the surface. They’d learnt never to speak unless spoken to and they’d learnt never to demand any of their mother’s time. Lisa had watched helplessly as he had whittled away at their fortune—and she wondered if it had been that which had made her so fiercely independent. Was the lack of love in their childhood the reason why Brittany had jettisoned her university course and fallen straight into the arms of the first man to show her some affection?
All Lisa knew was that she couldn’t contemplate bringing Rose up without love. At the moment things were tolerable because it was all so new. She was getting used to motherhood and Luc was getting used to fatherhood. But the atmosphere between the two of them was at best polite. They were like two people stuck together in a broken-down lift, saying only as much as they needed to—but it wouldn’t stay like that, would it? Once they were out of the baby-shock phase, things would return to ‘normal’. But she and Luc had no ‘normal’. Sooner or later they were going to start wanting different things.
She decided to speak to him about it after dinner one evening—a meal they still took together, mainly, she suspected, to maintain some sort of charade in front of the staff.
Leaving Almeera with Rose, Lisa washed her hair before slipping into a long, silk tunic which disguised the extra heaviness of her breasts and tummy. She even put on a little make-up, wondering why she was going to so much trouble. Because I want to look in control. I want to show him that I mean business.
But when she popped her head in to check on Rose before going down for dinner, it was to find Luc standing by the crib, his fingers touching the baby’s soft black hair as he murmured to her softly.
‘Oh,’ she said. ‘You’re here.’
He glanced over at Almeera, who was fiddling with the intricate mobile which hung over the crib. ‘I wonder if you’d mind leaving us for a moment, Almeera,’ he said.
The servant nodded and slipped away and Lisa looked at Luc, feeling suddenly disorientated.
‘I thought we were having dinner,’ she said.
He raised his eyebrows. ‘I think we’re able to apply a little flexibility about the time we eat, don’t you?’ he said drily. ‘Unless you’re especially hungry.’
Lisa shrugged, wondering why tonight he was looking at her more intently than he had done for weeks. Automatically, she skated a palm down over the curve of one hip without considering the wisdom of such an action. ‘I ought to be cutting back on food,’ she said.
‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ he said, his voice growing a little impatient before it gentled. ‘You look beautiful, if you really want to know. Luscious and ripe and womanly.’
Actually, she didn’t want to know and she didn’t want his voice dipping into a sensual caress like that, making her long for something which definitely wasn’t on the menu. She took an unsteady breath. ‘We have to discuss the future,’ she said.
There was a pause. ‘I know we do.’
Luc looked into the questioning face of his wife and wondered afterwards if it was the sense of a looming ultimatum and dread which made him drop his guard so completely. He stared at her shiny hazelnut curls and the fleshy curves of her body and he felt his throat dry to dust as he forced himself to confront the truth.
Because in a sudden flash of insight he realised that the feelings he had were not just for their child, but for the woman who had given birth to her. A woman he’d brought here as a hostage, but who had tried to reach out to him all the same. He could recognise it now but he’d been too blind to see at the time. Because once her initial opposition to being his wife had faded, he realised that she’d tried to make the best of her life here. She had studied the history of his country and quietly gone about her own career without making undue demands on his time.
But despite the silent vow he’d made on their wedding day, he had continued to keep her at arm’s length, hadn’t he? He had kept himself at a physical distance even though he’d sensed that she’d wanted him. He had deliberately not laid a finger on her, knowing that such a move was calculated to make her desire for him grow. To frustrate her. And deep down, his disapproval had never been far from the surface. If he was being honest, hadn’t he experienced a certain relief that he’d been able to chastise her over the damned necklace? As if he had needed something to justify why he could never allow himself to get close to her. The truth was that he had treated Lisa as an object rather than a person. Because he hadn’t known how to do it any other way.
But suddenly he did—or at least, he thought he did. Was Rose responsible for opening the floodgates? Emotion flooded over him like a warm tide as he looked down at his daughter. Tentatively, she opened her eyes, and as he gazed into a sapphire hue so like his own he felt his heart clench. He lifted his head to meet Lisa’s watchful gaze, the dryness in his throat making the thought of speech seem impossible, but that was no excuse. Because this was something he could not turn away from. Something he could no longer deny.
‘I love her, Lisa,’ he said simply.
For a moment there was silence before she nodded. ‘I know. Me, too. It’s funny, isn’t it?’ She gave a little laugh, as if she was embarrassed to hear him say the words out loud. ‘How you can feel it so instantly and completely.’
Luc drew in a deep breath as he met her eyes. He thought about the first time he’d met her and that rare glint of shared understanding which had passed between them. The way he hadn’t been able to get her out of his head in all the months which had followed. When he’d seen her again, the chemistry between them was as explosive as it had ever been—but what he felt now was about more than sex. Much more. Because somehow he’d come to realise that his spunky designer with the clear green-gold gaze treated him as nobody else had ever done.
She treated him like a man and not a prince.
So tell her. Take courage and tell her the words you never imagined you’d say.
‘And I love you, too, Lisa,’ he said. ‘More than I’d ever realised.’
At first Lisa thought she must be dreaming, because surely Luc hadn’t just told her that he loved her? She blinked. But he had. Even if the words hadn’t still been resonating on the air, she knew she hadn’t misheard them from the look on his face, which seemed to be savage yet silky, all at the same time. She felt a shiver whispering its way over her skin as she tried to ignore the sensual softening of his lips and to concentrate on facts, not dreams. Be careful what you wish for—that was what people said, wasn’t it? And suddenly she understood why.
Luc had let his cold mask slip for a moment. Or rather, it hadn’t slipped—he had just replaced it with a different mask. A loving mask which was far more suitable for ensuring he got what he wanted.
His baby.
Yet she wouldn’t have been human if her first response hadn’t been a fierce burst of hope. If she hadn’t pictured the tumultuous scene which could follow, if she let it. Of her nodding her head and letting all the tears which were gathering force spill from her eyes before telling him shakily that yes, she loved him, too.
And, oh, the exquisite irony of that—even if it happened to be true. Admitting she loved a man who was cold-bloodedly trying to manipulate her emotions by saying something he didn’t mean. What about all the lessons she was supposed to have learnt?
He was looking at her from between narrowed lashes and she knew she had to strike now. Before she had the chance to change her mind and cling to him and beg him to never let her go.
‘Do you think I’m stupid?’ she questioned quietly, her voice low and unsteady. ‘Because I would have to be pretty stupid not to realise why you just told me you loved me. You don’t love me, Luc. You’ve fallen in love with your daughter, yes—and I’m over the moon about that. But this isn’t like going to the supermarket—which you’ve probably never done. We don’t come as a two-for-one deal! And you can’t smooth-talk me into staying on Mardovia just because you’ve trotted out the conditional emotional clause which most women are brainless enough to fall for!’
He went very still, his powerful body seeming to become the whole dark focus of the room. ‘You think I told you I loved you because I have an ulterior motive?’ he questioned slowly.
‘I don’t think it—I know it!’
He flinched and nodded his head. ‘I had no idea you thought quite so badly of me, Lisa.’
Something in the quiet dignity of his words made Lisa’s heart contract with pain, but she couldn’t retract her accusation now—and why should she? He was trying to manipulate her in every which way and she wouldn’t let him. She couldn’t afford to let him. Because she’d crumble if he hurt her, and she never crumbled.
‘I don’t think badly of you,’ she said. ‘I think you’re a great dad and that’s what’s making you say all this stuff. But you don’t have to pretend in order to make things work. I want things to be...amicable between us, Luc.’
‘Amicable?’ he bit out before slowly nodding his head, and in that moment Lisa saw a cold acceptance settle over his features. ‘Very well. If that’s what you want, then that’s what you’ll get.’ There was a pause. ‘When exactly do you want to leave?’
* * *
Lisa and Rose’s journey was scheduled for the end of the week. She was to fly back to London with Rose and Almeera and two protection officers, who would move into a section of Luc’s large London house, which would now be her home. The idea of two of Luc’s henchmen spying on her filled her with dread and Lisa tried to assert her independence.
‘I don’t need two protection officers,’ she told Luc.
‘You may not, but my daughter does.’
Lisa licked her lips. ‘So I’m trapped any which way?’
He shrugged. ‘Trapped or protected—it all depends how you look at it. And now, if you’ve quite finished, there are things I’d like to do while Rose is still in residence, and today I’d like to take her into Vallemar to meet some friends.’
Lisa told herself she didn’t want to be parted from her baby and that was why she asked the question. ‘Can’t I come?’
‘Why?’ he questioned coolly. ‘These are people you are unlikely to see in the future—so why bother getting to know them? No point in complicating an already complicated situation.’
So Lisa was forced to watch as Luc, Rose and Almeera were driven away in one of the palace limousines while she stayed put. She paced the gardens, unable to settle until they returned—with an exquisite selection of tiny Parisian couture dresses for Rose, from someone called Michele—and Lisa could do nothing about the sudden jealous pounding of her heart. But she didn’t dare ask Luc who Michele was. Even she could recognise that she didn’t have the right to do that.
At last, after a final sleepless night, it was time to leave. Lisa stood awkwardly in the main entrance of the palace, feeling small and very isolated as she prepared to say goodbye to Luc. Already in the car with Almeera, Rose was buckled into her baby seat—but now there was nothing but a terrible sense of impending doom as Lisa looked up into the stony features of her royal husband.
‘Well,’ she said, her bright voice sounding cracked. ‘I guess this is it. And you’ll...you’ll be over to London next week?’
‘I’ll be over whenever I damned well please and I shall come and go as I please,’ he said, his blue eyes glittering out a warning. ‘So don’t think you can move some freeloader into my house while I’m away, because I will not tolerate it.’
Don’t rise to it, thought Lisa. Don’t leave with the memory of angry words between you. She nodded instead. ‘I have no intention of doing that, which I suspect you already know. So...goodbye, Luc. I’ll... I’ll be seeing you.’
And suddenly his cold mask seemed to dissolve to reveal the etching of anger and pain which lay behind. Did he realise she had witnessed it? Was that why he reached out and gripped her arms, his fingers pressing into the soft flesh, as if wanting to reassert the control he had momentarily lost?
‘Better have something other than a tame goodbye to remember me by, dear wife,’ he said. ‘Don’t you agree?’
And before she could raise any objection, his lips were pressing down on hers in a punishing kiss which was all about possession and nothing whatsoever to do with affection. But it worked. Oh, how quickly it worked. It had her opening her lips beneath the seeking pressure of his and gasping softly as she felt the tip of his tongue sliding over hers. She swayed slightly and as his big hands steadied her she could feel the clamour of her suddenly hungry body as it demanded more. Touch me, she thought silently, wishing that they were somewhere less public, though pretty sure none of the servants were around. Just touch me.
But just as suddenly he terminated the kiss—stepping away from her, the triumph darkening his eyes not quite managing to hide his contempt, so that she could hardly bear to look at him. As she stumbled out of the door towards the car she could feel his gaze burning into her back.
Rose was sleeping and Almeera was sitting in the front beside the driver as the car headed towards the airfield, and all Lisa could think about was Luc. Raw pain ripped through her. She found herself wishing that it could all have been different. Wishing he’d meant it when he told her that he loved her.
They were almost at the airfield when her thoughts jarred and then jammed—the way CDs used to get stuck if there was a fault on the disc and started repeating the same piece of music over and over again. She creased her brow as she tried to work out what it was which was bothering her.
She found herself remembering what he’d told her about his upbringing and the women paid to look after him after his mother’s death. His words had moved her, despite the flat and matter-of-fact way in which he’d delivered them—as if he were reading from the minutes of a boring meeting. But you would have needed a heart of stone not to be affected by the thought of the lonely little boy growing up alone in a palace, with nobody but a grieving father and a series of strict governesses for company.
Had those governesses ever told him they loved him? Held him tightly in their arms and hugged him and kissed his little head? She bit her lip. Of course not—because that hadn’t been in their job description. They had been there to serve. To drum in his duty to his country. A duty he must be reminded of whenever he saw the Wheeler portraits of Louisa De Lacy, whose love affair with his ancestor had almost destroyed the Mardovian dynasty. But it had not. The principality had survived and today it was strong—and powerful.
Yet despite all his wealth and power, Luc had not fought her for his daughter’s custody, had he? With his access to the world’s finest lawyers she sensed he had the ability to do that—and to win—so why hadn’t he?
What did that say about him as a man? That he could be understanding, yes. Magnanimous, compassionate and kind. Or even that he cared more about her happiness and Rose’s than about his own.
That he loved her?
She stared out of the car window and thought about how closed up he could seem. About the courage it must have taken for him to come out and say something like that. The way his voice had cracked with emotion as he’d spoken—and she knew then that he would never have said it if he didn’t mean it. He had even told her that, once. Yet she had just batted his words back to him as if they’d been of no consequence, hadn’t she? She had turned away from him, too frightened and so entrenched in her own prejudices to believe him.
For how could either of them know about the giving and receiving of love if neither of them had ever witnessed it?
‘Stop the car!’ she yelled, before recovering herself slightly and leaning forward to speak to the driver. ‘Please. Can you take us back to the palace?’
Lisa’s heart was racing during a drive back which seemed to take much longer than the outward journey, and she couldn’t stop thinking that maybe it was already too late. What if he’d gone out, or refused to see her, or...?
But there were a million variations on ‘what if’ and she tried to push them from her mind as they drove up the mountain road with the beautiful blue bay glittering far below.
Leaving Almeera to bring Rose inside, Lisa went rushing into the palace, knowing that she should be walking calmly in a manner befitting a princess—even if she was an estranged one—but she couldn’t seem to stop herself. She was about to ask one of the footmen where she could find the Prince when she saw Luc’s rather terrifying new aide, Serge, coming from the direction of one of the smaller anterooms.
‘I need to see the Prince,’ she blurted out.
Serge’s face remained impassive. ‘The Prince has left strict instructions that under no circumstances is he to be disturbed.’
Had her departure already robbed her of any small vestige of power her royal status might once have given her? Stubbornly, Lisa shook her head and sped noiselessly in the direction she’d seen Serge walking from.
With shaking fingers she opened doors. The first room was empty, as was the second, but in the third Luc stood alone by the window, his body tense and his shoulders hunched as he stared out.
Behind her Lisa could hear rapid footsteps and she turned round to see that the Russian had almost caught her up.
‘Your Highness...’ Serge began.
‘Leave us, Serge,’ said Luc, without turning round.
Lisa’s heart was pounding but she waited until the aide had retreated and closed the door behind him before she risked saying anything.
‘Luc,’ she said breathlessly, but all the things she’d been meaning to say just died in her throat as nerves overcame her.
He turned around then, very slowly, and she was shocked by the ravaged expression on his face—at the deep sense of sorrow which seemed to envelop him, like a dark cloud. His sapphire eyes were icy-cold and she’d never seen someone look quite so unwelcoming.
‘Where’s Rose?’ he demanded.
‘Almeera’s just bringing her in. I needed...’ she swallowed ‘...to speak to you.’
‘Haven’t we said everything which needs to be said, Lisa? Haven’t we completely exhausted the subject?’
‘No,’ she said, knowing that she needed the courage to reach into her frightened heart, despite the forbidding look on his face. ‘We haven’t.’
But clearly he wasn’t about to help her. ‘What do you want?’ he questioned impatiently, as if she were a servant who had neglected to remove one of the plates.
‘I want to tell you,’ she whispered, before drawing in a deep breath, ‘how very stupid I’ve been. And to try to tell you why.’
‘I’m not interested in your explanations,’ he snapped.
‘I want to explain,’ she continued, with a sudden feeling of calm and certainty, which she sensed was her only lifeline, ‘that I was scared when you told me you loved me. Scared you didn’t mean it. Scared I’d get hurt—’
‘And you’ve spent your whole life avoiding getting hurt, haven’t you, Lisa?’ he finished slowly, as if he had just worked it out for himself. ‘You learnt a bitter lesson at your mother’s knee that love could destroy you.’
‘Yes. Yes! Those feelings aren’t always logical, but that doesn’t make them any less valid. That’s why I finished with you the first time.’ She stared down at her shiny gold wedding band, before lifting her gaze to his. ‘Oh, I knew there was no future in it—you told me that right from the start—but that wasn’t why. Because who wouldn’t have wanted to prolong every wonderful second of what we had? It was because I had started to fall in love with you and I knew that was a mistake. You didn’t want love. Not from me. You told me you didn’t want anything from me. I tried to forget you—I tried so very hard—and then when you walked into the shop that day, I realised nothing had changed.’ She shrugged. ‘Not a single thing. I still wanted you.’
‘And I still wanted you,’ he said. ‘Even though everything about it was wrong and even though I tried to resist you, in the end I couldn’t.’
‘Maybe you just can’t resist sex when it’s offered to you on a plate.’
‘Oh, but I can,’ he assured her softly. ‘I hadn’t—haven’t—had sex with anyone else since my relationship with you first ended.’
She stared at him in disbelief. ‘Nobody?’
‘Nobody.’
‘But why? I mean, why not? There must have been plenty of opportunities to bed all kinds of women.’
Luc rubbed his thumb over his lips, realising that you could say words of love and mean them, but that was only the beginning. Because you needed to go deeper than that. To be prepared to show another person every part of you—to draw aside the curtain of mystique and admit that inside even he could be vulnerable.
‘Initially I convinced myself that I needed a time of celibacy before settling down with Sophie, but that wasn’t the real reason.’ He shook his head and shrugged. ‘Because the truth was that I just didn’t want anyone else but you, Lisa. I don’t know how and I don’t know why—but you’re the woman who has made me feel stuff I didn’t even realise existed. The only one. And I want—’
‘No,’ she rushed in, as if eager to show him her own vulnerability. ‘Let me tell you what I want, Luc. I want to be a real wife to you, in every sense of the word. I want to live here or anywhere, just so long as it’s with you and Rose. I’d like to have more children, if you would. And I’d like to be the best princess I can possibly be. I want time to love you and to show you all the stuff I’ve never dared show you before. So what have you got to say to that, Luciano Gabriel Leonidas? Will you take me on?’
He could feel the powerful beat of his heart as he pulled her into his arms, but for the first time in his adult life he realised that his cheeks were wet with tears. And so were hers. He dried them with his lips and then bent his head so his mouth met hers. ‘I’ll take you on any time you like,’ he said unsteadily, just before he kissed her. ‘Because I love you.’
