Читать книгу Royals: Chosen By The Prince - Rebecca Winters, Cara Colter - Страница 12

CHAPTER FOUR

‘SO WHEN do you think he’ll be back?’ Holly paced across the priceless rug in the Georgian manor house. ‘I mean, he’s been gone for two weeks, Emilio! I haven’t even had a chance to talk to him since that day at the flat.’ The day he’d announced that she was going to marry him. ‘Not that this house isn’t fabulous and luxurious and all that—but he virtually kidnapped me!’

‘On the contrary, His Highness was merely concerned for your safety,’ Emilio said gently. ‘The press had discovered where you were and the situation was about to turn extremely ugly. It was imperative that we extracted you from there as fast as possible.’

Remembering the crowd of reporters that had suddenly converged on Nicky’s flat, and the slick security operation that had ensured their escape, Holly rubbed her fingers over her forehead. ‘Yes, all right, I accept that, but that doesn’t explain why he hasn’t been in touch. When is he planning to come back? We need to talk.’

There was so much she needed to say to him.

When she’d opened the door to the flat and seen the prince standing there, her first reaction had been one of pure joy. For a crazy moment she’d actually thought that he was there because he’d spent the past two weeks thinking about her and decided that he needed to see her again. Her mind had raced forward, imagining all sorts of unrealistic scenarios that she was now too embarrassed to even recall. Her crazy, stupid brain had actually started to believe that extraordinary things could happen to someone ordinary like her.

And then he’d strode into her flat like a Roman conqueror neutralising the enemy.

Remembering everything he’d said to her, she felt a rush of misery.

He didn’t believe it was his baby and the injustice of that still stung. True, she wasn’t exactly proud of the way she’d behaved, but it seemed he’d conveniently forgotten his own role in the affair.

And as for his proposal of marriage—well, that unexpected twist had more than kept her mind occupied over the past two weeks.

Had he meant it? Was he serious? And, if he was serious, what was her response going to be?

It was the most difficult decision she’d ever had to make, and the arguments for and against had gone round and round in her head like a fairground carousel. Marrying him meant being with a man who didn’t know her or trust her, but not marrying him meant denying her baby a father.

And that was the one thing she’d promised herself would never happen to any child of hers.

Reminding herself of that fact, Holly straightened her shoulders and stared across the beautifully landscaped gardens that surrounded the manor.

Their baby was not going to grow up thinking that his father had abandoned him. She swallowed down the lump that sprang into her throat. Their baby was not going to be the only child in school not making a Father’s Day card.

Which meant that her answer had to be yes, regardless of everything else.

What else mattered? Hopefully over time the prince would realise how wrong he had been about her, and once the baby was born it would be a simple matter to prove paternity. Perhaps, then, their relationship could develop.

Realising that Emilio was still watching her, she felt a squeeze of guilt. ‘I’m sorry. I’m being really selfish. Is there any news about your little boy? Have you phoned the hospital this morning?’

Remembering just how taciturn and uncommunicative the prince’s Head of Security had been when they’d first met, she was relieved that he’d responded to her attempts to be friendly.

‘His temperature is down,’ he told her. ‘And he’s responding to the antibiotics, although they’re still not sure what it was.’

‘Your poor wife must be so tired. And little Tomasso must be missing you. I remember having chicken pox just after—’ Just after her father had left. The feelings of abandonment were as fresh as ever and Holly walked across to him and touched his arm. ‘Go home, Emilio,’ she urged. ‘Your wife would like the support and your little boy would dearly love to see his daddy.’

‘That’s out of the question, madam.’

‘Why? I’m not going anywhere. I feel really guilty that you’re stuck here with me. If it weren’t for me, you’d be back home in Santallia.’

Emilio cleared his throat. ‘If I may say so, your company has been a pleasure, madam. And you’ve been a great comfort since Tomasso was ill. I’ll never forget your kindness that first night when he was first taken into hospital and you stayed up and kept me company.’

‘I’ve never been thrashed so many times at poker in my life. It’s a good job I don’t have any money to lose,’ Holly said lightly. ‘The moment the prince turns up, you’re going home.’

But what if he didn’t turn up?

Perhaps he didn’t want to marry her any more.

Perhaps he’d changed his mind.

Or perhaps he’d just imprisoned her here, away from the press, until the story died down? After all, he believed that she’d talked to the press. Was he keeping her here just to ensure her silence?

Her thoughts in turmoil, Holly spent the rest of the morning on the computer in the wood-panelled study that overlooked the ornamental lake. Resisting the temptation to do another trawl of the Internet for mentions of Prince Casper, she concentrated on what she was doing and then wandered down to the kitchen to eat lunch with the head chef and other members of the prince’s household staff.

‘Something smells delicious, Pietro.’ Loving the cosy atmosphere of the kitchen, she warmed her hands on the Aga. Naturally chatty by nature, and delighted to find herself suddenly part of this close community, Holly had lost no time in getting to know everyone living and working in the historic manor house.

‘It’s a pleasure to cook for someone who enjoys her food, madam,’ the chef said, smiling warmly as he gestured towards some pastries cooling on a wire rack. ‘Try one and give me your verdict. You’re eating for two, remember.’

‘Well, I’d rather not be the size of two. I’m not sure I’m meant to be developing cravings this early, but already I don’t think I can live without your pollo alla limone.’ Holly still felt slightly self-conscious that everyone clearly felt so possessive about her baby. She bit into a pastry and moaned with genuine appreciation. ‘Oh, please—this is sublime. Truly, Pietro. I’ve never tasted anything this good in my life before. What is it?’

Pietro blossomed. ‘Goat’s cheese, with a secret combination of herbs—’ He broke off as Emilio entered the room and Holly smiled.

‘Emilio, thank goodness.’ She took another nibble of pastry. ‘You’re just in time to stop me eating the lot by myself.’

‘Miss Phillips.’ The bodyguard’s eyes were misted, and Holly dropped the pastry, alarmed to see this controlled man so close to the edge.

‘What? What? Has something happened? Did the hospital ring?’

‘How can I ever thank you? You are—’ Emilio’s voice was gruff and he cleared his throat. ‘A very special person. My wife called—she just received a delivery of beautiful toys. How you managed to arrange that so quickly I have no idea. Tomasso is thrilled.’

‘He liked his parcel?’ Relieved that nothing awful had happened, Holly retrieved the pastry and threw Pietro an apologetic glance. ‘Sorry. Slight overreaction there on my part. Just in case you can’t tell, I briefly considered drama as a career. So he liked the toys? I couldn’t decide between the fire engine and the police car.’

‘So you bought both.’ Emilio shook his head. ‘It was unbelievably generous of you, madam.’

‘It was the least I could do given I’m the reason you’re not with him.’ Holly frowned and glanced towards the window. ‘What’s that noise? Are we being invaded?’

Still clutching the spoon, Pietro peered over her shoulder. ‘It’s a helicopter, madam.’ His cheerful smile faded and he straightened his chef’s whites and looked nervously at Emilio. ‘His Royal Highness has returned.’

* * *

Chilled by the wind, and battling with a simmering frustration that two weeks of self-imposed absence hadn’t cured, Casper sprang from the helicopter and strode towards the house.

Although he’d managed to put several countries and a stretch of water between them, he’d failed to wipe Holly from his thoughts. Even the combined demands of complex state business and the successful conclusion to negotiations guaranteeing billions of dollars of foreign investment hadn’t succeeded in pressing the stop button on the non-stop erotic fantasy that had dominated his mind since that day at the rugby.

Even while part of him was angry with her for her ruthless manipulation, another part of his mind was thinking about her incredible legs. He knew she was a liar, but what really stayed in his head was her enticing smile and the taste of her mouth.

And that was fine. Because her manipulation had given him a solution to his problem.

As he approached the house, two uniformed soldiers that he didn’t recognise opened the doors for him, backs ramrod straight, eyes forward.

Casper stopped. ‘Where is Emilio?’

One of them cleared his throat. ‘I believe he is in the kitchen, Your Highness.’

‘The kitchen?’ Casper approached a nervous footman. ‘Since when did my kitchen represent a major security risk?’

‘I believe he is with Miss Phillips and the rest of the staff, sir.’

Having personally delivered the order that Emilio should watch her, Casper relaxed a fraction. Contemplating the difficult two weeks Holly must have had with his battle-hardened security chief, he almost smiled. Emilio had been known to drive soldiers to tears, but he felt no sympathy for her. After all, she was the one who had decided to name him as the father of her unborn baby. She deserved everything she had coming to her.

Striding towards the kitchen with that thought uppermost in his mind, he pushed open the door, astonished to hear the rare sound of Emilio’s laughter, and even more surprised to see his usually reserved Head of Security straighten a clasp in Holly’s vibrant curls in an unmistakeably affectionate manner.

Holly was smiling gratefully and Casper felt like an interloper, intruding on a private moment. Experiencing a wild surge of quite inexplicable anger, he stood in the doorway.

The rest of the staff were eating and chatting, and Emilio was the first to notice him. ‘Your Highness.’ Evidently shocked at seeing the prince in the kitchen, he stiffened respectfully. ‘I was just about to come upstairs and meet you.’

‘But you had other things to distract you,’ Casper observed tightly, strolling into the kitchen and taking in the empty plates and the smell of baking in a single, sweeping glance.

Without waiting for him to issue the order, the various members of his household staff rose to their feet and hastily left the room.

Pietro hesitated and then he, too, melted away without being asked.

Only Emilio didn’t move.

Casper slowly undid the buttons on his long coat. ‘I’m sure you have many demands on your time, Emilio,’ he said softly, but the bodyguard stood still.

‘My priority is protecting Miss Phillips, sir.’

‘That’s true.’ Casper removed his coat and dropped it over the back of the nearest chair. ‘But not,’ he said gently, ‘From me.’

Emilio hesitated and glanced at Holly. ‘You have the alarm I gave you, madam, should you need me for anything.’

There was no missing the affection in Holly’s smile. ‘I’ll be fine, Emilio, but thank you.’

Watching this interchange with speechless incredulity, Casper was engulfed by a wave of anger so violent that it shook him.

Against his will he was transported back eight years, and suddenly he was seeing another woman smiling at another man.

Pain cut through the red mist of his anger, and he glanced down at his hand and realised that he was gripping the back of the chair so tightly his knuckles were white.

‘Your Highness?’ Holly’s voice penetrated his brain. ‘Are you all right?’

Locking down his thoughts with ruthless focus, Casper transferred his gaze to Holly, but the bitter taste of betrayal remained. ‘Emilio is a married man. Do you have no sense of decency?’

‘I—I’m sorry?’

‘I’ve no doubt his wife and child will be sorry, too.’

Her expression changed from concern to anger. ‘How dare you? How dare you turn everything beautiful into something sordid. Emilio and I are friends—nothing more.’ She lifted a hand to her head. ‘Oh God, I can’t believe you’d even think—what is the matter with you? It’s almost as if you believe the worst of people so that you can’t be disappointed.’

Was that what he did? Stunned by that accusation, Casper felt as cold as marble. ‘Despite a short acquaintance, Emilio would clearly die for you.’

‘We’ve been living in each other’s pockets for two weeks—what did you expect? On second thoughts, don’t answer that.’ She took a deep breath. ‘Look, maybe you don’t know me well enough to know I wouldn’t do that, but you know Emilio. He was telling me that he’s been with you for twenty years! How could you think that of someone so close to you?’

Because he knew only too well that it was the people closest to you who were capable of the greatest betrayal. And causing the greatest pain.

Casper released his grip on the chair and flexed his bloodless fingers.

‘Whatever the nature of your relationship, Emilio is in charge of my security. He can’t perform his duties effectively if he’s flirting in the kitchen.’

‘Nor can he perform his duties on an empty stomach. We were eating lunch, not flirting. Or aren’t your staff allowed to eat lunch?’

‘You’re not a member of my staff.’ Casper glanced round the homely kitchen. ‘And there is a formal dining-room upstairs for your use.’

‘It’s as big as a barn, and I don’t want to eat on my own. Where’s the fun in that?’ Her expression made it clear that she thought it should have been obvious that eating alone was a stupid idea. ‘Sorry, but sitting alone at one end of a vast table is a bit sad. I prefer the company of real people, not paintings.’

‘So you’ve been distracting Emilio.’

‘Actually, yes. I’ve been trying to take his mind off his worries.’ Her shoulders stiffened defensively. ‘Did you know that his little boy has been taken into hospital? And he’s been stuck here with me, fretting himself to death while—’

The anger drained from Casper. ‘His son is ill?’

‘Yes, and he—’

‘What is wrong with the child?’

‘Well, it started with a very high temperature. I don’t think his wife was too worried at that point, so she gave him the usual stuff but nothing seemed to bring his temperature down. Then she was putting him to bed when—’

‘What is wrong with the child?’ Impatient for the facts, Casper sliced through her chatter, and she gave him a hurt look.

‘I’m trying to tell you! You’re the one who keeps interrupting.’

Attempting to control his temper, Casper inhaled deeply. ‘Summarise.’

‘I was summarising.’ Affronted, she glared at him. ‘So, his temperature went up and up and then he had a fit, which apparently can be normal for a toddler because they’re hopeless at controlling their temperature, and so they took him in and did some tests and—’

‘That isn’t a summary, it’s a three-act play!’ Exasperated, Casper strode across to her and placed a finger over her mouth. ‘Stop talking for one minute and answer my question in no more than three words—what is wrong with Emilio’s son?’

Her lips were soft against his finger and he felt the warmth of her breath as she parted her lips to respond.

‘Virus,’ she muttered, and Casper withdrew his hand as if he’d been scalded, taken aback by the rush of sexual heat that engulfed him. The urge to take possession of her luscious mouth was so strong that he took a step backwards.

‘And is his condition improving?’

‘Yes, but—’

‘That’s all I need to know.’ Needing space, Casper turned and strode purposefully towards the door, but she hurtled after him and caught his arm.

‘No! No, it isn’t all you need to know! “Virus” and “improving” doesn’t give you a clue about what it’s been like for poor Emilio! Those are just facts, but it’s the feelings that matter.’ She waved an arm. ‘He was stuck here with me while they were doing all these tests, and he was worried sick and—’ She broke off, clearly unsettled by his silence. ‘Don’t you care? You’re so cold! Y-you just stand there looking at me, not saying anything. What do you think it’s been like for Emilio being stuck here with me while his little boy is ill?’

Casper scanned her flushed cheeks and lifted an eyebrow in sardonic mockery. ‘Noisy?’

Her hand fell from his arm. ‘I’m only talking too much because you make me nervous.’

Only both of them knew that there was more than nerves shimmering between them.

It was there in her eyes—awareness, excitement, longing.

Distancing himself, Casper yanked open the door. ‘Then I’ll give you a moment to collect yourself.’ He left the room, issued a set of instructions to a waiting security-guard, and then returned to the kitchen to find Holly pacing the room in agitation.

She threw him a reproachful look. ‘All right, maybe I do talk a lot, but that’s just the way I am, and nobody’s perfect. And you’re the one who left me here without even telling me when you’d be back!’ Her chin lifted. ‘Did you think I’d sit in silence for two weeks?’

Casper strode over to the large table and poured himself a glass of water from the jug on the table. ‘It was fairly obvious to me from our last meeting that you and silence have never been intimately acquainted.’

‘Well, I don’t expect you to understand, because you’re obviously the strong silent type who uses words like each one costs a fortune, but I like people. I like talking to them.’

And they liked talking to her, if the buzz of conversation around the kitchen table had been anything to go by.

And she knew about Emilio’s son.

Casper tried to remember a time when people had been that open with him, and realised that they never had been.

Even before tragedy had befallen the royal family of Santallia, he’d lived a life of privileged isolation. Because of his position, people were rarely open and honest.

And he’d learned the hard way that trust was one gift he couldn’t afford to bestow.

Because of his error of judgement, his country had suffered.

And now he had the chance to make amends. To give the people what they wanted.

And as for the rest of it—physically the chemistry between them was explosive, and that was all he required.

He drank deeply and then put the glass down, his eyes locking with hers.

Immediately engulfed by a dangerous tension, Casper tried to analyse what it was about her that he found so irresistibly sexy.

Not her dress sense, that was for sure. Her ancient jeans had a rip in the knees, her pale-pink jumper was obviously an old favourite, and the colour in her cheeks had more to do with the heat coming from the Aga than artful use of make-up.

Accustomed to women who groomed themselves to within an inch of their lives, he found her lack of artifice oddly refreshing.

Her beauty wasn’t the result of expensive cosmetics or the hand of a skilled surgeon. Holly was vibrant, passionate and desperately sexy, and all he wanted to do was flatten her to the table and re-enact every sizzling moment of their first meeting.

Exasperated and baffled by the strength of that inappropriate urge, Casper dragged his eyes back to her face. ‘Emilio failed to pass on the message that you were to buy a new wardrobe.’

‘No. He told me.’ She hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her jeans and the movement revealed a tantalising glimpse of smooth, flat stomach. ‘I just didn’t need anything. What do I need a new wardrobe for? I’ve spent the mornings helping Ivy and the afternoons helping Jim prune the trees in the orchard.’

‘Who is Ivy?’

‘Your housekeeper. She lost her husband eight months ago and she’s been very down, but she has started joining us for lunch, and she’s been talking about—Sorry.’ She raised a hand in wary apology. ‘I forgot you just want facts. OK, facts. I can do that. Ivy. Housekeeper. Depressed. Improving.’ She ticked them off her fingers. ‘How’s that? You’re smiling, so I must have done OK.’

Surprised to discover that he was indeed smiling, Casper shook his head slowly. ‘Your gift for conversation has clearly given you a great deal of information about my staff.’

‘It’s important to understand people you work with.’

‘When I left you here, my intention was not for you to work alongside the staff.’

‘I had to do something with my day. You gave orders that I couldn’t leave the premises. I was trapped here.’

‘You were brought here for your own safety.’

‘Was I?’ Her brilliant green eyes glowed bright with scepticism. ‘Or was I brought here for your safety, so that I couldn’t talk to the press?’

‘That particular boat has already sailed,’ Casper said tightly, his temper flaring at her untimely reminder of just how effectively she’d manipulated the media. ‘You’re here for your protection.’

‘Do you have any idea how weird that sounds?’ Holly glanced pointedly at the rip in her jeans. ‘I mean, one minute I’m a waitress who no one notices unless they want to complain about their food, and the next I’m someone who needs twenty-four-hour protection.’

‘You’re carrying the heir to the throne.’

‘And that’s all that matters?’ She tilted her head to one side, studying his expression. ‘You’ll put aside your personal feelings for me because of the baby?’

What personal feelings?

Emotion had no place in his life.

On one previous occasion he’d allowed himself to be ruled by emotion and the consequences had been devastating.

As far as he was concerned, his relationship with Holly was a business transaction, nothing more.

Casper stared into her anxious green eyes, wondering why she didn’t look more triumphant.

She’d successfully secured a future for herself and her child.

Or was she suddenly realising just how high a price she’d paid for that particular social leap?

‘I don’t want to discuss this again.’ Crushing any future urge on her part to dwell on the unfortunate circumstances of their wedding, Casper strolled forward, realising that he hadn’t yet revealed the reason for his return.

‘Y—you’re a bit crabby. Perhaps you need to eat,’ she said helpfully, scooping up a plate from the table. ‘Try one of Pietro’s pastries. It’s a new recipe and they’re really delicious.’

‘I’m not hungry.’ His intention had just been to deliver his orders and then spend the afternoon catching up on official papers. He hadn’t expected to be drawn into a discussion.

Nor had he expected an ongoing battle with his libido.

‘Just taste them.’ Apparently unaware of his reluctance, she broke off a piece of the pastry and lifted it to his lips. ‘They’re fresh out of the oven. Try.’

Drowning in her subtle floral scent and her smile, Casper’s senses reeled and he grasped for control. ‘I have things to tell you.’

‘Eat first.’

Casper ate the pastry and wished he hadn’t, because as his lips touched her fingers again he was immediately plunged into an erotic, sensual world that featured Holly as the leading lady in a scene dominated by scented oils and silk sheets.

She withdrew her hand slowly, her eyes darkening as they both silently acknowledged the dangerous sexual charge that suffused every communication they shared.

‘What is it you need to tell me, Your Highness?’

‘Casper.’

For the space of a heartbeat, she looked at him and then she gave a twisted smile. ‘I don’t think so. I’m not comfortable enough with you. Maybe it’s just because you’ve had a long journey, but you’re very cold. Intimidating. I feel as though you’re going to say “off with her head” any minute.’

‘You can’t call me Your Highness in the wedding ceremony.’

Shock flared in her eyes. ‘I sort of assumed the wedding was off. You haven’t once phoned me whilst you’ve been away.’

Casper thought of the number of times he’d reached for the phone before he’d realised what he was doing. ‘I had nothing to say.’

Holly lifted her hands and made a sound that was somewhere between a sob and laughter. ‘Well, if you had nothing to say to me in two weeks, it doesn’t bode well for a lifetime together, does it? But I do have things I want to say to you.’ She drew in a breath. ‘Starting with your offer of marriage. I’ve given it a lot of thought.’

‘That doesn’t surprise me. I expect it’s been two weeks of non-stop self-congratulation while you enjoy your new life and reflect on the future.’ His cynical observation was met with appalled silence and she stared at him for a moment, her delicate features suddenly pinched and white.

Then the plate slipped from her hands and smashed on the kitchen floor, scattering china and pastry everywhere.

‘How dare you say that? You have a real gift for saying really horrible things.’ Her small hands curled into fists by her sides. ‘Have you any idea how hard all of this is for me? Well, let me tell you what my life has been like since you walked into it!

‘First there is that huge picture of me on the screen so the whole world can see the size of my bottom, then the press crawl all over my life, exposing things about me that I haven’t even told my closest friends and making me out to be some psycho nutcase. Then I discover I’m pregnant, and I was really happy about that until you showed up and told me that you didn’t believe it was yours. So basically since I’ve met you I’ve been portrayed publicly as a fat, abandoned slut with no morals! How’s my new life sounding so far, Your Highness? Not good—so don’t talk to me about how I must be congratulating myself because, believe me, my confidence is at an all-time low.’ Her breathing rapid, she sucked in several breaths and Casper, who detested emotional scenes, erected barriers faster than a bank being robbed.

‘I warned you that—’

‘I haven’t finished!’ She glared at him. ‘You think this is an easy decision for me, but it isn’t! This is our baby’s future we’re talking about! And, whatever you may think, I didn’t plan this. Which is why I’ve done nothing but agonise over what to do for the past two weeks. Obviously I don’t want to be married to a man who can’t stand the sight of me, but neither do I want my baby to be without a father. It’s been a horrible, horrible choice, and frankly I wouldn’t wish it on anyone! And if you need that summarised in two words I’d pick “scary” and “sacrifice”.’

In the process of formulating an exit strategy, Casper looked at her with raw incredulity. ‘Sacrifice?’

‘Yes. Because, although I’m sure having a father is right for our baby, I’m not sure that being married to you is right for me. And there’s no need to use that tone. I don’t care about the prince bit, nor do I care about your castle or your bank account.’ Her voice was hoarse. ‘But I won’t have our child growing up thinking that his father abandoned him. And that’s why I’ll marry you. By the time he’s old enough to understand what is going on, you will have realised how wrong you are about me and given me a big, fat apology. But don’t think this is easy for me. I have no wish to marry a man who can’t talk about his feelings and doesn’t show affection.’

Casper responded to this last declaration with genuine astonishment. ‘Affection?’ How could she possibly think he’d feel affection for a woman who had good as slapped him with a paternity suit?

She rolled her eyes. ‘You see? Even the word makes you nervous, and that says everything, doesn’t it? You were quite happy to have hot sex with me, but anything else is completely alien to you.’ She covered her face with her hands, and her voice choked. ‘Oh, what am I doing? How can we even think about getting married when there’s nothing between us?’

‘We share a very powerful sexual chemistry, or we wouldn’t bein this position right now,’ Casper responded instantly, and her hands dropped and she gave a disbelieving laugh.

‘Well, that’s romantic. There’s no mistaking your priorities. Summarised in three words, it would be sex, sex, sex.’

‘Don’t underestimate the importance of sex,’ Casper breathed, watching as her lips parted slightly. ‘If we’re going to be sharing a bed night after night, it helps that I find you attractive.’ Surprisingly, his statement appeared to finally silence her.

She stared at him, her eyes wide, her lips slightly parted. Then she rubbed her hands over her jeans in a self-conscious gesture. ‘You find me—attractive? Really?’

‘Obviously your dress sense needs considerable work,’ he said silkily. ‘And generally speaking I’m not wild about jeans, although I have to confess that you manage to look good in them. Apart from that, and as long as you don’t ever wear anything featuring a cartoon once you’re officially sleeping in my bed, yes, I’ll find you attractive.’

A laugh burst from her throat. ‘I can’t believe you’re telling me how to dress—or that I’m listening.’

‘I’m not telling you how to dress. I’m telling you how to keep me interested. It’s up to you whether you follow the advice or not.’

‘And that’s supposed to be enough? A marriage based on sex?’ She shook her head slowly. ‘It doesn’t make sense. I still don’t understand why, if you genuinely don’t believe this is your baby, you’d be willing to marry me. Instead of facts, why don’t you give me feelings?’

He didn’t have feelings.

He hadn’t allowed himself feelings for eight years.

‘Given all the research you did on the royal house of Santallia, I would think you’d be aware of the reasons. I’m the last of the line. I’m expected to produce an heir. To the outside world, it appears that I’ve done that.’

‘You’re giving me facts again,’ she said softly. ‘How do you feel, Your Highness?’

Ignoring her question, Casper paced over to the window, his tension levels soaring. ‘The people of Santallia are currently in a state of celebration. The moment the story broke on the news, they were making plans for the royal wedding. There will be fireworks and state banquets. Apparently my popularity rating has soared. School children have already been queuing outside the palace with home-made cards and teddies for the baby—little girls with stars in their eyes.’ He turned, looking for signs of remorse. ‘Are you feeling guilty yet, Holly? Is your conscience pricking you?’

‘Teddies?’ Instead of retreating in the face of his harsh words, she appeared visibly moved by the picture he’d painted. Her hand slid to her stomach in an instinctively protective gesture, and he saw tears of emotion glisten in her eyes. ‘They’re that pleased? It is wonderful that everyone is longing for you to get married and have a baby. You must be very touched that they care so much.’

‘It’s because they care so much that we’re standing here now.’

Her gaze held his. ‘So, if they wanted you to have a baby so badly, and you’re so keen to please them, why haven’t you done it before? Why haven’t you married and given them an heir?’ She broke off abruptly and he knew from the guilty flush on her cheeks that her research had included details about his past relationships.

He could almost see her mind working, thinking that she knew what was going on in his.

Fortunately, she didn’t have a clue.

No one did. He’d made sure of that.

The truth was safely buried where it could do no harm. And it was going to stay buried.

Observing his lack of response, she sighed. ‘What’s going on in your head? I don’t understand you!’

‘I don’t require you to understand me,’ Casper said in a cool tone. ‘I just require you to play the part you auditioned for. From now on, you’ll just do as you’re told. You’ll smile when I tell you to smile and you’ll walk where I tell you to walk. In return, you’ll have more money than you know how to spend, and a lifestyle that most of the world will envy.’

She opened her mouth and closed it again, her face a mask of indecision. ‘I don’t know. I really don’t know.’ She stooped and started picking up pieces of broken china, as if she needed to do something with her hands. ‘I thought I’d made up my mind, but now I’m not sure. How can I accept your proposal when you scare me? You use three words, I use thirty. I’ve never met anyone so emotionally detached. I—I’m just not comfortable with you.’ She put the china carefully on the table.

‘Comfortable?’

She rubbed her fingers over her forehead, as if her brain was aching and she wanted to soothe it. ‘We’ll hardly be great parents if I’m bracing myself for conflict every time you enter a room. And then there’s the fact that I don’t exactly fit the profile of perfect princess.’

‘The only thing that matters is that the world thinks you’re carrying my child. As far as the people of Santallia are concerned, that makes you the perfect princess.’

‘But not your perfect princess. You don’t seem to care who you marry. Did you love her very much?’ She blurted out the question as though she couldn’t stop herself, and then gave an apologetic sigh. ‘I’m sorry. Perhaps I shouldn’t. But you lost your fiancée, Antonia, and it’s stupid to pretend that I don’t know about it, because everyone knew—’

No one knew.

‘Enough!’ Stunned that she would dare tread on such dangerous territory, Casper sent her a warning glance, and in that single unsettling moment he had the feeling that she was looking deep inside him.

‘I am sorry,’ she said quietly. ‘Because I certainly don’t want to hurt you. But I don’t see how we’re going to have any sort of marriage when you won’t let another human being get close. You create this barrier around you. Frankly, how I ever felt relaxed enough with you to have sex, I have no idea. At the moment my insides feel as though I swallowed a knotted rope.’ But even as she said the words the tension in the air crackled and snapped, and he saw her chest rise and fall as her breathing quickened.

The sexual chemistry was more powerful than both of them, and Casper wasn’t even aware that he’d moved until his hands slid into her hair and he felt her lips parting in response to the explicit demands of his mouth.

Enforced abstinence and sexual denial had simply increased the feverish craving, and he hauled her hard against him, driven by a sensual urgency previously unknown to him.

Her lips were soft and sweet, and the scent and taste of her closed over him, drowning his senses until every rational thought was blown from his brain by a powerful rush of erotic pleasure.

She moaned with desperation, her arms winding round his neck, her body trembling against his as she arched in sensual invitation, her abandoned response a blatant invitation to further intimacy.

In the grip of an almost agonising arousal, Casper closed possessive hands over her hips and lifted her onto the kitchen table. She was pliant and shivering against him, the sensuous movements of her body shamelessly urging him on.

And then the gentle hiss of water boiling on the Aga penetrated the red fog in his mind and he froze, his seeking hands suddenly still as he realised what he was doing.

And where he was doing it.

Another time, another table.

Deploring the lack of control that gripped him whenever he was with this woman, he dragged his mouth from hers with a huge effort of will, and stared down into her dazed, shocked eyes. Her mouth was damp and swollen from his kiss, and she was shaking with the same wild excitement that was driving him.

His usual self-restraint severely challenged by her addictive sexuality, Casper released his grip on her hips and stepped backwards.

‘Hopefully that should have satisfied any worries you might have about whether or not you’ll be able to relax with me when the time comes.’

She slid off the table, her fingers fastened tightly round the edge for support. ‘Your Highness.’ Her voice was smoky with passion. ‘Casper—’

‘We’re short on time.’ Ruthlessly withdrawing from the softness he saw in her eyes, he glanced at his watch. ‘I’ve flown in a team of people to help you prepare.’

‘Prepare for what?’ Her eyes dropped to his mouth, and it was obvious that she wasn’t really listening to what he was saying—that her body was still struggling with the electricity that sparked between them.

‘The wedding. We fly to Santallia tonight. We’re getting married tomorrow.’ He paused, allowing time for his words to sink in. ‘And that’s not a proposal, Holly. It’s an order.’