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The Prince's Chambermaid(27)

By:Sharon Kendrick


Her heart missed a beat as she held her breath, sensing tragedy. 'And?'

He swallowed. 'My brother has tonight awakened from his coma.'





Chapter Eleven



THE car drove them straight to the hospital-but Cathy was still reeling  from her husband's shock announcement and his inexplicably bleak  response to it.

'I thought … I thought you'd be overjoyed about your brother's recovery,  and yet … ' she said slowly, registering the sombre set of his features in  the dimmed light of the limousine. 'What exactly have they told you?'

'That he suddenly opened his eyes and began to speak. They're running  tests now-but they say … ' His voice thickened. 'They say he's going to  make a full recovery.'

'So why … ?' Dared she? Dared she? 'Why your restrained response?'

'I'll believe it when I see it for myself,' he said harshly as the car  drew up outside the brightly lit and modern hospital, where the medical  director was waiting for them.

The news was good. In fact, the news was pretty unbelievable, Cathy  thought as she sat in the big, airy office and listened while the doctor  explained that every test they'd run had been favourable. That every  system was functioning and that the King was demanding physiotherapy as  soon as possible because he wanted to-as the doctor relayed with the  hint of a smile-'get the hell out of here'.

Xaviero felt a pulse working at his temple. 'That sounds like Casimiro. So when can I see him?'

'I can take you to him now, Your Highness.'

He turned to her, but the golden eyes were shadowed, distracted. 'Come, Catherine.'

Cathy was suddenly acutely aware that she was dressed in a scarlet  evening gown-even though her shoulders were covered in a pashmina which  had been thrust at her by an aide before their hasty departure. And  aware too that her presence was superfluous to what would-and should-be  an emotional reunion     between the two brothers. She shook her head.  'No. Better that you see him alone,' she said quietly.

Eyebrows arrowed together in a frown. 'You're sure?'

'Quite sure.'

She sat drinking coffee while she waited, unable to stop the stream of  thoughts pouring into her mind-no matter how much she tried to stop  them. But shamefully the one which dominated all others was purely  selfish. And while Cathy's heart felt fit to burst for joy that the  young King should have come back to life, she wouldn't have been human  if a deep dark wave of fear hadn't washed over her.

Because my place here is now redundant.

Xaviero didn't need her any more. He didn't need a wife by his side to  ease the burden of unwanted duty thrust upon him by circumstance. He  didn't even need to be here himself-not now. Judging by what the doctor  had told them, the King was well on the way to recovery and would soon  resume his rightful place on the throne.

She was so caught up in her troubled thoughts that when Xaviero appeared  in the doorway for a moment she scarcely recognised him. Because this  was a man she had never seen before-one transformed by a sudden sense of  joy. It was as if he had been carrying around with him an impossibly  heavy burden-and someone had suddenly lifted it from his shoulders and  the weight had vanished. He was free, she thought-with another shiver of  foreboding.                       
       
           



       

'How … how is he?' she asked.

'It's unbelievable.' Xaviero expelled a ragged sigh-because hadn't the  past come back to haunt him as he had stood beside his brother's bed?  Didn't he know better than anyone that doctors sometimes raised hopes  when those hopes were better to let wither, and die? But the spectre of  his mother's own failed recovery had been banished by the first sight of  his brother's smile. 'He's … '

He had been about to say that Casimiro was the same as he'd ever been,  but that would be a lie. His brother had changed-Xaviero had sensed that  from the moment he had walked into the intensive care unit. And when  you stopped to think about it an experience like that was bound to  change you profoundly-for didn't death's dark shadow throw the rest of  your life into focus and force you to reevaluate it?

'He's going to be okay,' he said, in a shaky voice which didn't sound like his own voice.

Her own fears forgotten, Cathy went to him then-putting her arms very  tightly around him and resting her head against his shoulder, breathing  in the raw masculine scent that was all his.

'Oh, Xaviero,' she whispered. 'I'm so very happy for you. So happy for him.'

'Not as happy as I'm feeling right now,' he whispered, his arms snaking  round her waist as he buried his face in the silken tumble of her hair.

The car took them back to the palace, and, after telling the assembled  staff the news, they hurried to their suite with matched and urgent  steps. Xaviero was on fire, and so was she-he barely waited until the  door was shut before impatiently sliding the soft silk-satin up over her  hips. Questing fingers found her searing heat and he didn't even bother  to remove the delicate lace panties-just hurriedly thrust the panel  aside, as he unzipped and freed himself and pushed her back against the  wall.

Cathy gasped as she felt the tip of him nudging intimately against  her-wanting to squirm her hips to accommodate him-longing to feel his  hard power filling her and completing her. But as he prepared to thrust  into her-it was she who realised what was about to happen. Who cried out  a little protest before firmly pushing against his chest before it was  too late-before he risked trapping himself again, only this time by  something which was preventable.

'C-c-contraception!' she gasped out.

Xaviero's mouth hardened as he haltingly complied with her wishes-the  mood not exactly broken, but certainly changed by her shuddered command.  And something in the act of putting the barrier between them distilled  some of the jubilant wildness which had been heating his blood. His  thrust was still deep, but his movements were more measured. Instead of  the fiery, fast consummation he had sought, he now controlled the pace  almost cold-bloodedly-nearly bringing her to fulfilment over and over  again until at last she sobbed out his name in a helpless kind of plea.

Only then did he let go, feeling her convulse about him before allowing  his own-strangely bittersweet-orgasm to follow. Afterwards he carried  her over to the bed and ripped the silk gown from her body-thus ensuring  she would never wear it again, for its associations were now too  strongly linked to powerful emotions he would prefer not to remember.

It was a long and erotic night. He made love to her over and over again  and, even while Cathy revelled in the incredible sensations he evoked in  her, it felt almost as if he were trying to prove a point. What point  was that? she wondered distractedly. To establish that he could reduce  her to boneless longing any time he wanted to?

She woke to find him already dressed, and realised that it was the first  time she had seen him in jeans since she'd arrived on the island. It  was a strange moment-as memories fused and became tangled. It reminded  her of the first time she'd seen him, when she had been crazily  convinced that he was an itinerant worker!

Was he dressing down and reverting to the old Xaviero now that he had  been freed from the burden of responsibility? And were his shadowed eyes  an acknowledgement that perhaps he had been a little too hasty in  acquiring a bride-that maybe he should have waited a little longer  before encumbering himself?

She sat up in bed, pushing back her tousled hair-aware of the aching  deep inside her body and the soft glow of her flesh. 'You're-you're up  early.'

Golden eyes flicked over her. 'An emergency meeting of the government  has been called.' The sight of her rosytipped breasts was making him  want to tumble her back down among the already-rumpled sheets and  Xaviero walked over to the safe distance of the window. 'We have to  discuss what kind of statement we need to issue to the press,' he added  tersely.                       
       
           



       

'Oh. I see.' He was standing in the shadows-she could barely read the  expression on his face, but that wasn't such a new thing, was it? Wasn't  his face fathomless even in brightest sunshine-the man who never gave  anything of himself away? Tell him now. Tell him while you have the  courage. 'Xaviero … this … changes everything.'

'I know it does.'

His instant confirmation added yet another brick to the fast-building  realisation that what they had between them was as fragile as one of  those flowers which bloomed in the desert. Glorious for one short  day-and then gone for ever.

'You won't want to stay on the island once Casimiro is fully recovered.'

'I think I might cramp his style somewhat,' he observed drily, and sent her a sarcastic glance. 'Don't you?'

Don't be swayed by that glimpse of mocking humour, she told herself  fiercely as she pulled a silken nightgown over her head-feeling less  vulnerable now that her nakedness was hidden. Concentrate on what is  real and what is not. You can't trap him-it isn't fair. And you can't  hold him to a union     which was made in haste for all the wrong reasons.  So set him free, Cathy. If you really love him-you'll give him his  liberty.