Читать книгу A Bride For The Playboy Prince: The perfect royal romance to celebrate Harry and Meghan’s wedding - Сандра Мартон - Страница 11

CHAPTER THREE

LUC WAS AWARE of little other than a fierce sexual need pumping through his veins as he crushed his lips down on Lisa’s. He barely noticed the cramped hallway as he levered her up against the peeling wallpaper, or the faint chill of damp in the air as her arms closed around him. He was aware of nothing other than her soft flesh and the hard jerk of the erection which throbbed insistently at his groin.

He kissed her until she cried out his name. Until she circled her hips over his with a familiar restlessness which made him slide his hand underneath the hem of her silver dress. His heart pounded. Her legs were bare and her thighs were cool and he could hear the silent scream of his conscience as his fingertips began their inevitable ascent. He thought about all the reasons why this shouldn’t happen, but he was too hot to heed caution and this was too easy. As easy as breathing. He swallowed. With her it always had been that way.

She gave a shuddering little moan as he reached her panties and the sound only fuelled his own hunger.

‘Luc,’ she gasped.

But he didn’t answer. He was too busy sliding the panties aside to provide access for his finger. Too busy reacquainting himself with her moist and eager flesh. He teased her clitoris until she bucked with pleasure and he could smell the earthy scent of sex in the air.

‘Hell, you’re responsive,’ he ground out.

‘Are you surprised when you touch me like...that?’

Her hands were reaching blindly for his zip and Luc held his breath as she eased it down. His trousers concertinaed to the ground like those of a schoolboy in an alley, and her dextrous hands were now dealing with his boxer shorts—peeling them down until his buttocks were bare. She was cupping his balls and scraping her fingernails gently over their soft swell and in response he reached down and tore her panties apart with a savage rip of the delicate material. Her low laugh reminded him of how much she liked to be dominated in the bedroom and, although his conscience made one last attempt to tell him this was wrong, ruthlessly, he erased it from his mind. Halting her just long enough to remove a condom from his pocket, he tore open the foil with unsteady fingers before sheathing himself.

And then it was happening and there didn’t seem to be a damned thing he could do about it. It was as if he were on a speeding train with no idea how to stop. He cupped her bottom so that she could wrap her legs around his hips. Her lips were parted against his cheek and her breasts were flattened against his chest.

‘Are you sure you want this?’ he whispered, his tip grazing provocatively against her slick flesh.

Her words came out as gasps. ‘Are you?’

‘I’ll give you three guesses,’ he murmured and drove deep into her.

His thrusts were urgent and her cries so loud that he had to kiss them silent. It was mindless and passionate and it was over very quickly. She came almost instantly and so did he, hot seed spurting into the rubber and making his body convulse helplessly. He pressed his head against her neck and, as one of her curls attached itself to his lips, he wished it hadn’t been so brief. Why the hell hadn’t he taken his time? Undressed her slowly and tantalised them both, while demonstrating his legendary control?

He cupped his hand over her pulsating mound, feeling the damp curls tangling in his fingers and enjoying the last few spasms as they died away. Already he could feel himself growing hard and knew from experience that Lisa would like nothing better than to do it all over again. But he couldn’t stay for a repeat performance. No way. He needed to get out of there, and fast. To forget this had ever happened and put it to the back of his mind. To get on with his future instead of stupidly allowing himself to be dragged back into the past. He bent down and tugged his trousers back up, struggling to slide the zip over his growing erection, before glancing around the cramped hallway.

‘Bedroom?’ he questioned succinctly.

She swallowed. ‘Third door along.’

It wasn’t difficult to find in such a small apartment, and he thought the room was unremarkable except for the rich fabric which covered a sagging armchair and a small vase of fragrant purple flowers on the windowsill. Luc drew the curtains and snapped on a small lamp, intending just to see her safely in bed. To kiss her goodbye and tell her she was lovely—maybe even cover her up with a duvet and suggest she get some sleep. But somehow it didn’t quite work out that way. Because once inside her bedroom it seemed a crime not to pull the quicksilver dress over her head and feast his eyes on her body. And an even bigger crime not to enjoy the visual fantasy of her lying on top of the duvet, wearing nothing but an emerald-green bra and a pair of sexy high-heeled shoes.

‘Lisa,’ he said, thinking how hollow his voice sounded.

In the soft lamplight he could see the bright gleam of her eyes.

She wriggled a little, her thighs parting fractionally in invitation. ‘Mmm...?’

Luc knew she was teasing him and that this was even more dangerous. He told himself he didn’t want to get back into that special shorthand of lovers or remind himself how good this part of their relationship had always been. Yet somehow his body was refusing to heed the voice of reason as he took her hand and guided her fingers to the rocky hardness at his groin.

‘Seems like I want you again,’ he drawled.

She laughed as her fingers dipped beneath the waistband and circled his aroused flesh. ‘No kidding?’

‘What do you think we ought to do about it?’ he questioned silkily.

Her voice grew husky as she mimicked his voice. ‘I’ll give you three guesses.’

His mouth was dry as he undressed them both, impatiently pushing their discarded clothing onto the floor as he reacquainted himself with her curves. He groaned as she caressed the tense muscles of his thighs with those beautiful long fingers. Her curls tickled him as she bent to slide her tongue down over the hollow of his belly. But when she reached the tip of his aching shaft, he grabbed a thick rope of curls.

‘No,’ he said unsteadily.

‘But you like—’

‘I like everything you do to me, Lisa, I always did. But this time I want to take it a bit more slowly.’ He groaned as he pushed her back against the mattress and leaned over her, his eyes suddenly narrowing. ‘But you do realise that this changes nothing? I’m still not in a position to offer you any kind of future.’

Her smile was brittle. ‘Don’t make this all about you, Luc,’ she said. ‘It’s supposed to be about mutual pleasure.’

A spear of jealousy ran through him. ‘And have you had many other lovers?’ he questioned. ‘A stream of men lying just like this on your bed?’”

‘You have no right to ask me something like that.’

‘Is that a yes?’

She shook her head but now her voice was shaking with indignation.

‘If you must know, there’s been nobody since you,’ she declared. ‘And before you start reading anything into that—don’t bother. There hasn’t been time for sex, that’s all. I’ve been juggling too many balls and trying to keep my business afloat.’

But Lisa knew she wasn’t being completely honest as she heard his low laugh of triumph. Of course there hadn’t been anybody else—because who could compare to the arrogant Prince? Who else could make her feel all the stuff that Luc did? But he didn’t want feelings—he wasn’t in the market for that and he never had been. Hadn’t he just emphasised that very fact? So pretend you don’t care. Show him you’re independent and liberated and not building stupid fantasies which are never going to happen.

‘And just to put your mind at rest, yes—I do realise you’re not in the market for a wedding ring,’ she added drily.

For a moment she felt him grow tense—as if he was going to say something—and she looked up at him expectantly. But the moment passed and instead he bent his head to kiss her—a kiss that was long and slow and achingly provocative. It made her remember with painful clarity just what she’d been missing. The intimate slide of his fingertips over her skin. The way he could play her body as if he were playing a violin. He grazed his mouth over her swollen breasts, teasing each nipple with his teeth as her hands clutched at the bedclothes beneath her.

She realised she was still wearing her shoes and that the high heels were in danger of ripping through the cotton duvet. She bent one knee to unfasten the buckle but he forestalled her with an emphatic shake of his head.

‘No,’ he growled as he straddled her, his finger reaching down to caress the leather as if it were an extension of her own skin. ‘The shoes stay.’

She could feel the weight of his body and his erection pressing against her belly. He put his hand between her thighs and started to stroke her and Lisa wondered how she could have lived without this for so long.

‘Luc,’ she breathed as a thousand delicious sensations began to ripple over her.

His thumb stilled. ‘You want more?’

She wanted him to hold her tightly and tell her how much he’d missed her, but she was never going to get that. So concentrate on what he can give you.

‘Much more,’ she said, coiling her arms around his neck. ‘I want to feel you inside me again.’

He made her wait, eking out each delicious touch until she was almost weeping with frustration. She could feel the wetness between her thighs as he pushed them apart at last and heard his soft words of French as he entered her.

There was triumph as well as pleasure in his smile as he started to thrust his pelvis and suddenly Lisa wanted to snatch some of the control back. With insistent hands she pushed at his chest and, their bodies still locked, rolled him onto his back so that she was now on top. She saw the light of pleasure which danced in his eyes as she cupped her breasts and began to play with them, tipping her head backwards so that her curls bounced all the way down her back.

‘Lisa!’ Now it was his turn to gasp as he clamped his hands over her hips, anchoring her to him as their movements became more urgent. He pulled her head down so that he could kiss her, the movement of his tongue mimicking the more intimate thrusts he was making deep inside her.

Lisa shuddered because it felt so real. So primitive. This was the most alive she’d felt in a long time. Maybe ever.

She found herself wanting to rake her fingernails over his flesh—even though he’d always been so insistent she shouldn’t mark him. But suddenly the desire to do just that was too strong to resist. Caught in a moment made bittersweet by the knowledge that it would never be repeated, she felt the first waves of her orgasm as she touched her lips to his shoulder. The first ripple of pleasure hit her and just before it took her under, she bit him. Bit him and sucked at his flesh like some rookie vampire, and the salty taste of his sweat and his blood on her lips only seemed to intensify her pleasure. His too, judging by the ragged cry he gave as he bucked inside her.

Afterwards she lay there, slumped against his damp body—not wanting to move or speak or to do anything which might destroy the delicious sense of completeness which enveloped her.

Go to sleep, she urged him silently as she listened to the muffled pounding of his heart. Go to sleep and let’s pretend we’re two normal people one last time. I can make you toast and coffee in the morning, and we can sit on stools in my tiny kitchen and forget that you’re a prince and I’m a commoner before you walk out of my life for good.

But he was wide awake. She could tell from the tension in his body and the way he suddenly eased himself out of her body. Without a word, he pushed back the sheet and got out of bed.

‘Luc?’ she questioned, but he had switched on the main light and was walking over to the oval mirror which hung on the wall.

The harsh light emphasised just how cheap the room must look to a man used to palaces—throwing into relief the threadbare rug and the chipped paintwork which she hadn’t yet got around to restoring. Tipping his head back, he narrowed his eyes as he studied the bite on his neck, which was already turning a deep magenta colour.

‘Bathroom?’ he snapped.

‘J-just along the corridor,’ she stumbled.

He was back some minutes later, having obviously splashed his face with water and raked his fingers through his ruffled black hair in an attempt to tame it. And then her heart clenched with disbelief as he bent down to pick up his clothes and began pulling them on. Surely he wasn’t planning on leaving straight away? She’d known it was only ever going to be a one-off but she’d hoped he’d at least sleep with her.

‘Is something wrong?’ she asked.

‘You mean, apart from the fact that you’ve bitten my neck, like some teenage girl on a first date?’ He paused in the act of buttoning up his shirt, his lips tight with anger as he turned to look at her. ‘What was the point of that, Lisa? Did you want to make sure you left a trophy mark behind?’

‘I know. I know. I shouldn’t have done it.’ She gave a helpless shrug. ‘But you were just too delicious to resist.’

But he didn’t smile back. In the glaring light she could see how stony his sapphire eyes looked. He finished dressing and slipped on his shoes. ‘I have to go,’ he said, giving a quick glance at his watch. ‘I shouldn’t even be here.’

‘Oh?’ Her voice was very quiet as she looked at him. ‘Have you suddenly decided that my new downmarket accommodation is a little too basic for His Royal Highness? Can’t wait to get away now you’ve had what you came for?’

‘Please don’t, Lisa,’ he said. ‘Don’t make this any more difficult than it already is. This should never have happened. We both know that.’

She sat up in bed then, her hair falling over her shoulders as she grabbed at the rumpled sheet to cover her breasts, shielding them from the automatic darkening of his eyes as they jiggled free. ‘But you were the one who came into my shop!’ she protested furiously. ‘The one who practically bribed me into going to that wedding party with you—’

‘And you were the one who came onto me on your doorstep when I had already decided to resist you.’

‘I didn’t hear you objecting at the time!’

‘No, you’re right. I didn’t.’ He gave a bitter laugh. ‘Maybe I was just too damned weak.’

‘Okay. So we were both weak. We wanted each other.’ She stared at him. ‘But what’s the big deal? Why start regretting it now? I mean, it’s not as if we’re hurting anyone, is it?’

Luc let out a low hiss of air. He didn’t want to tell her, but maybe telling her was the only option. The only way she might get the message that this really was the last time and it could never happen again. Yet he wouldn’t have been human if he hadn’t experienced a sense of regret. His heart clenched in his chest as he looked at her—at the golden-brown curls tumbling down over her milky skin. He stared into the spiky-lashed green-gold of her eyes and felt another unwanted jerk of lust. Another deep desire to go over there and kiss her until there was no breath left in her lungs—until she was parting her thighs and pulling him deep inside her again. And judging from the hunger in her eyes, she was feeling exactly the same.

He wondered if she was aware of just how irresistible he still found her. Perhaps she thought there might be more episodes like this in the future. Maybe she was labouring under the illusion that he would start making regular trips to see her, which would all end up with this seemingly inevitable conclusion. And didn’t part of him long for such a delicious scenario?

Yet his sexual hunger was tempered by a deep sense of guilt at what had just happened, because hadn’t he just betrayed the woman who had been waiting so patiently for him on the island of Isolaverde? Hadn’t he broken his self-imposed celibacy—big time—and with the very last woman he should have chosen?

‘I’m afraid it is a big deal,’ he said slowly.

She looked at him and grew completely still, as if sensing from the sudden harshening of his voice that she was about to hear something she would prefer not to.

‘I don’t understand.’

‘There’s someone else.’

The words hung in the air between them and for a moment they were met with nothing other than a disbelieving silence before her shoulders stiffened in shock.

‘Someone else?’ she repeated blankly.

‘Yes.’

‘You mean...?’ she managed at last, her green-gold eyes icing over. ‘You mean you’re sleeping with two women at the same time? Or is that a little conservative of me? Maybe there are more than two—are you operating some sort of outdated harem?’

‘Of course I’m not!’ he gritted back. ‘And it isn’t that simple. Or that easy.’

‘Oh, Luc. Your tortured face is a picture. You poor thing! My heart bleeds for you.’

‘I have been betrothed to a princess since she was a child,’ he said heavily.

‘Betrothed?’ Lisa gave a brittle little laugh, as if sarcasm could protect her from the pain which was lancing through her heart. As if it would blind her to the fact that she had misjudged him. Worse, she had trusted him. She hadn’t asked him for the stars but she had expected him to behave with some sort of integrity towards her. But why should she expect integrity when she knew how ruthless men could be? ‘This is the twenty-first century, Luc. We don’t use words like betrothed any more.’

‘Where I come from, we do. It’s the way things work in my country.’ He picked up one of his gold cufflinks which were lying next to the vase of purple flowers. ‘The way they’ve always worked, ever since—’

‘Please! I don’t want a damned lesson in Mardovian history!’ she hissed. ‘I want you to tell me how you’ve just had sex with me if there’s...someone else.’

He clipped first one cufflink and then the other, before lifting his eyes to hers. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘You bastard.’

‘I made it very clear from the beginning that there could never be any future between us. I always knew that my destiny was to marry Sophie.’

Sophie. Somehow knowing her name made it even worse and Lisa started to tremble.

‘But you didn’t think to tell me that at the time.’

‘At the time there was no reason to tell you, for she and I had an agreement that we should both lead independent lives until the time of the wedding approached.’

‘And now it has.’

‘Now it has,’ he agreed, and his voice was almost gentle. Like a doctor trying to find the kindliest way of delivering a deadly diagnosis. ‘This was my last foreign trip before setting the matrimonial plans in motion.’

‘And you thought you’d have one final fling—with the woman who would probably ask the least questions?’

‘It wasn’t like that!’ he said hotly.

‘No? What, you just happened to come into my shop last week?’

‘I wanted to tie off some of the loose ends in my life.’

There was a pause. Lisa had never imagined herself being described as a loose end and something told herself to kick him out. To get his cheating face out of her line of vision and then start trying to forget him. But she didn’t. Some masochistic instinct made her go right ahead and ask the question. ‘What’s she like? Sophie.’

He winced, as if she had committed some sort of crime by saying the Princess’s name out loud while she sat amid sheets still redolent with the scent of sex.

‘You don’t want to know,’ he said roughly.

‘Oh, but that’s where you’re wrong, Luc. I do. Indulge me that, at least. I’m curious.’

There was a brief pause before he answered. ‘She is young,’ he said. ‘Younger even than you. And she is a princess.’

Lisa closed her eyes as suddenly she wished this night had never happened. Because if he hadn’t come back she would never have known about Sophie. Luc would have existed in her imagination as the perfect lover she’d had the strength to walk away from and not as the duplicitous cheat he really was. ‘And how does she feel, knowing just what her precious fiancé is up to the moment her back is turned?’ she questioned in a shaking voice. ‘Or doesn’t she mind sharing you with another woman?’

‘I have never been intimate with Sophie!’ he bit out. ‘Since tradition dictates she will come to me as a virgin on our wedding night.’ He paused as he surveyed her from between his lashes, his expression suddenly sombre. ‘Because that is my destiny and the duty which has been laid down for me since the moment of my birth. And a prince must always put duty, Lisa, above all else. That has always been my guiding principle.’

She shook her head, terrified she was going to do something stupid, like picking up the vase of purple flowers and hurling it at him. Or bursting into useless tears. ‘You wouldn’t know the meaning of the word principle if it was staring out of a dictionary at you!’

His voice tensed, but he forged on—sounding as if someone had written him a script and he was reading from it. ‘And once my ring is on her finger, I will stray no more.’

Lisa closed her eyes. So that was all she was to him. Someone to ‘stray’ with. Like a stray cat—lost and hungry and taken in by the first person to offer it a decent meal. What a stupid mistake she’d made. She’d let herself down. She’d tarnished the past and muddied the present. And all because of one little kiss. Because she’d reached up and brushed her lips over his and the whole damned thing had got out of hand.

So show some dignity. Don’t scream and rage. Don’t let his last memory of you be of some woman on the rampage because he’s passing you over for someone else. Because she had never given him access to her emotions and she wasn’t about to start now. Bitterness and vitriol were luxuries she couldn’t afford, because she might not have much—but she still had her pride. She opened her eyes and met the sapphire glint of his, only now she barely noticed their soft blaze—just as she no longer saw the beauty in his olive-skinned features. All she saw was duplicity and deceit.

‘Just go, Luc,’ she said.

He hesitated and for a moment she thought he might be about to come over to the bed and kiss her goodbye, and she tried to tell herself that she would slap his cheating face if he attempted that—because how was it possible to want something and to fear it, all at the same time? But he didn’t. He just turned and walked out of the bedroom and Lisa slumped back on the pillows and lay there, listening to the sounds of his leaving. The front door clicked shut and she heard the thud of his footsteps on the pavement before a door slammed and his powerful car pulled away.

She lay there until she needed to go to the bathroom and then padded across the room to where her discarded green panties lay and beside them a small, cream-coloured card, which must have fallen from his trouser pocket.

She picked it up and stared at it and a feeling of self-disgust rippled over her shivering skin. She’d thought it wasn’t possible to feel any worse than she already did but she was wrong. Oh, Luc, she thought. How could you? He had taken her to a party and had sex with her afterwards—but had still managed to bag himself a calling card from the beautiful Hollywood actress she’d seen at the wedding.

Compressing her lips together to stop them from trembling, Lisa crushed the card between her fingers and dropped it into the bin.