Forced Wife, Royal Love-Child(11)

By rights she should hate him for it.

She did hate him for it.

And yet…

His gaze washed over her in a heated rush. He didn’t have to utter another word; the question was there in his eyes, the hunger, the need. The promise of bliss.

Memories of the night they’d spent together surged back, rushing over her like a king tide, deep and unable to be resisted, a force of nature that could not be denied. What he’d done to her with his hands and his mouth and his perfect body. The way he’d made her feel…

The knowledge of how he could make her feel again.

Was it so wrong to feel so tempted? Was it so wrong for her body to hunger for more of what he’d given her, to experience more of that particular brand of magic?

She was leaving tomorrow.



She could have one more night. Where was the harm in that? One more night, and this time she would do the leaving. There could be no more surprises, no more disappointments. This time he wouldn’t have the chance to dump her. This time she would be the one to walk away, the one in control. She could leave him to his ladies and his princesses and contessas. One of them would ultimately win him for ever, but she could have him right here, right now.

Maybe it would never be enough. But wouldn’t one more night be at least something for the inconvenience he’d put her through today?

She deserved something. Surely.

He chose that exact moment to extend his hand to her. ‘It’s time.’





CHAPTER FIVE



‘COME,’ Rafe said, his voice rumbling through her in a series of tremors that threatened to unravel what was left of her defences. His long fingers wrapped around hers, circling her hand, drawing her up from her chair and against the black-clad, lethal length of him.

‘Rafe,’ she said, as his body received her in a swaying motion, almost as if dancing to a slow, silent waltz. ‘Shh,’ he whispered. ‘Don’t say anything.’

She couldn’t say anything anyway, her reason for speaking forgotten while her senses were fully employed drinking in the feel of him moving against her, setting the silk robe to a sensual massage against her tight nipples and aching breasts.

Intoxicating.

His touch was like a drug, she decided, his hands dispensing a sensual dose everywhere they glided, everywhere they touched. And when he kissed her it was with the promise of ecstasy.

Sienna melted against him, his mouth taking possession of hers, hot and wanting and so hungry that she wanted to give him everything she had, if only he would give her more of him.

His fingers splayed wide down the curve of her spine and over her behind, holding her to him and against that rock-hard evidence of his need. She invited herself still closer, as his lips left her mouth to trail kisses down her throat. Her head fell back and he took advantage, sliding the silk of her robe apart, grazing the flesh above her breast with his teeth.

It was everything she’d dreamed of. Everything she’d missed in these last few weeks.

Make the most of it, a tiny voice in her head told her. Because it’s all you’re ever going to get.

A hand cupped her breast and she gasped, the voice in her head vanquished. ‘You’re more beautiful than I remembered,’ Rafe murmured huskily, rolling one aching nipple between his thumb and finger before dipping his head to capture it between his lips.

Pleasure, exquisite and intense, speared deep inside, setting off a bloom of moisture between her thighs. She clung to him, knowing that otherwise her knees would give out and she would fall.

He turned his attention to her other breast, sweeping the fabric from her skin, letting her robe fall open in the process, uncaring, his hands underneath, across her naked skin. He drew back then and drank her in with his eyes, and the raw intensity she saw there terrified her.

She shivered, the tiny voice once again uppermost in her mind. What kind of man was he that he could look at her like that and then calmly turn around and marry another?

What kind of woman was she to let him?

She’d told him she wouldn’t sleep with him. And yet here she was, next to naked, all but begging for him to take her. She was akin to a starving dog under the table, grateful for any scraps that might be thrown her way.

What the hell was wrong with her?

Sienna wrenched her hands from his shoulders, trusting her spine was firmer now and that her legs would hold up on their own, and pulled the sides of her robe together, lashing her arms firmly below her breasts to keep it there. She was shaking and she couldn’t stop it, her body protesting at the sudden change of direction.

His head tilted to one side, his brows drawing together in a frown. ‘Sienna,’ he said straightening, ‘are you cold?’

She shook her head, shuffling her bare feet backwards over the rich Persian carpet. ‘I think you should go. This is a really bad idea.’

His eyes glinted menacingly. ‘You didn’t seem to think so a moment ago.’

‘I told you before I wouldn’t sleep with you. I’m sorry, but I haven’t changed my mind.’

He took a step closer, the knot in his brows deepening. ‘What kind of game are you playing? It’s obvious you want this as much as I do.’

‘No. I don’t think so. And personally I don’t think you give a damn what I want. All you care about is an easy lay.’

He growled at her coarse words. ‘That’s not true.’

‘It is true! You decided when I landed on this island that you had an easy lay on tap. You didn’t give a damn what I thought then, and you don’t give a damn now. I told you I wanted off this island then and I still want off this island now. But you’re still not listening. You still think you can take whatever you damn well please. Well, let me tell you, you had your chance in Paris and you made your choice crystal clear then.’

He didn’t move, other than the faint tic in his jaw and the dangerous gleam in his eyes. ‘Don’t think you’re going to gain some advantage by holding out. I’m afraid Sebastiano’s shortlist of potential Montvelatte princesses is already complete. There’s a place for you in my bed if you want to take it, but I certainly won’t beg you to change your mind.’

Cold fury at his arrogance skyrocketed her anger into overdrive. ‘You think I want to marry you? Get real! I don’t care that you’re a prince. I wouldn’t care if you were the Beast of Iseo himself. I wouldn’t marry you if you were the last man left on earth. I told you I wouldn’t sleep with you and I won’t. Get used to it!’

His face was dark and filled with a fury that secretly terrified her. He was a prince. This was his land, his world and she was telling him how it was to be. She must be insane to think she could get away with it. But damn it, nothing gave him the excuse to act the way he did.

Nothing!

He glowered at her again, took a step closer that had her wanting to reel right away, before his tightly drawn lips finally gave way to sound. ‘Have it your way.’





It was a perfect day, the rising sun already high in the sky, dazzling with the promise of heat. The infinity pool set into the gardens below sparkled and merged with the sea beyond, the perfect diamante-set blue, which in turn merged into a perfect azure sky.

A perfect day. And the perfectly wrong day for a foul mood.

Rafe sat on the terrace, holding his coffee, staring out resentfully over the beauty of the surroundings. His plans to seduce her into submission had come unstuck. So be it. If she wanted out so badly, she could have it. It was no real loss.

The chopper waited on the helipad for its pilot. He’d watched its arrival half an hour ago. He was surprised, given her vehemence of last night, that she hadn’t already left.

He took a sip. Dio! Even the coffee tasted bitter today. He put down his cup with a clatter and stood. What was he waiting for? She was leaving. He wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of seeing him watching out for her departure.

Something made him turn then, a noise, a movement, and he saw her, standing in the doorway staring at him like a frightened animal stuck in the glare of oncoming headlights. Memories of last night’s argument bubbled up like boiling mud, and his gut squeezed tight.

The only compensation was that she looked as bad as he felt. Her skin was pale. So pale against the Titian gold framing her face, even though pulled tight into that damned braid she favoured. And her eyes were smudged with dark circles that spoke of a lack of sleep that he could only hope matched his own.

What was she so scared of? Did she think he’d make another move on her? Not a chance!

‘I just wanted to say goodbye,’ she said, in a voice so tiny it almost got lost in the space between them.

He gave a brief nod. ‘Have you eaten?’

Her face seemed to lose even more colour, if that were possible, and as he looked closer, he could see she was clutching at the door beside her for support, her grip so tight that her knuckles were white.

She shook her head, her lips pressed tightly together, her whole face looking pinched and drawn. She’d had a worst night than he had. Good. But as he edged nearer, he noticed for the first time that there was colour in her face after all, a strange shade of grey. ‘Shouldn’t you have breakfast before you go? At least some coffee?’

‘I have to go,’ she squeezed out between barely open lips, her eyes wider than ever as he approached. ‘Thank you for your… Well, thank you.’