To Claim His Heir by Christmas(19)

'My mother, I think. It was her dream, and she used to talk about how her family would pray morning, noon and night for a better tomorrow. A tomorrow when the people could speak for themselves, have a say in how they lived. A day when they owned their own lands and could reap the benefits of what they sowed. When people's lives would be that much richer and more fulfilling if they were given the chance to aspire.'

Heaviness encroached on her chest at the grief painting his words blue. 'She sounds like she was a wonderful woman, Thane.'

Luciana knew he'd lost her young. And if the stories were true and his mother had been taken, stolen from her loved ones, his childhood must have been a war zone in more ways than one.

'A tortured soul is a more apt description.'

She could hear the dark resonance of his painful past echo through him, distorting his voice, and her eyes flared as he grabbed hold of a tangled vine from above and ripped it down, its thorns spearing into his palm. Within seconds blood dripped from his fist.

Luciana scrambled to her feet. 'Thane … ?'

His eyes were the blackest she'd ever seen, and she realised he wasn't even aware he'd hurt himself. Panic punched her heart.                       
       
           



       

'Don't do that, querido. Look what you're doing. Thane? Thane!'

He blinked, over and over, refocusing on her. 'Sorry, angel, what is it?'

'G … Give me your hand.' She pulled a handkerchief from her pocket and wrapped the white cotton round his palm, biting her lip when deep red stained the cloth.

Thane searched her face with a confounded expression, as if no one had ever cared enough before to stop him hurting. And that made her aching heart weep for him.

Pointing up to the small scar on his chin, she asked softly, 'Did that hurt when you did it?'

'I can't remember. I do not think so.'

Good Lord, his pain threshold had to be off the charts.

'When did you do it?'

'This one?'

Up came his hand and he rubbed over the thin white line with one fingertip.

A fresh stab of wretchedness almost struck her down. It was just like when Nate talked about falling out of the blossom tree at their apartment near Hong Kong. He would touch the scar on his arm when he recalled it. The likeness in mannerism was uncanny-and so bittersweet.

'I was twelve, I think. I'd dropped a thirty-five-millimetre and shattered the casing.' He smiled and shook his head ruefully. 'Let's just say I never once fumbled with the damn thing again.'

'Twelve? And he punished you? He beat you for … ?' She swallowed thickly. 'How could he do that?'

He shrugged off her empathy. 'It's not an issue. I was born to rule, just as he was. Raised to defend, not to feel. A honed weapon. He did what he had to do. Probably what had been done to him. I accept that.'

'No. No, Thane. No child should have to accept that. Don't you dare accept that. He didn't have to be brutal or so cruel. Are you saying because you were raised like that you would do that to your children? Your son?'

Snatching his hand away, he stepped back as if she'd physically backhanded him. Anger, affront and hurt flooded the space between them. 'How could you think me capable of that, Luciana?'

Oh, God, she'd had nightmares about exactly that. As her father had filled her head with tales-and yes, okay, some facts too-she'd fought her own instincts. Scared witless, out of her mind. Missing him so badly she couldn't eat or sleep or breathe without hurting. So she'd written letters. What seemed like hundreds of letters. Only to burn them.

Tears splashed up behind her eyes. She couldn't stop them. And he didn't like it-not one bit.

Panic laced his voice. 'Luciana, what is wrong?'

'I'm sorry,' she whispered. 'I'm so sorry.'

His riveting handsome face creased with confusion. 'Why? Why are you sorry?'

Shaking her head, she forced a smile. She knew it wept with sorrow and dejection, so she made it brighter. Smoothed the damp hair from his brow.

'Do you feel me when I touch you?' she asked.

'You're about the only thing in the world I do feel, Luciana.'

Oh, God.

Out of control-as always with this man-she reached up in search of his mouth. Desperate to take his pain away. To take hers with it too. Because she now knew what she had to do and it would likely destroy them. Destroy this. Destroy any chance of happiness they would ever have.

As she lifted up on her tiptoes he surged downwards, closing the gap, pressing a frantic kiss to her lips.

She reached up and grabbed handfuls of his shirt, feeling the flex of his hard muscle beneath her fingertips. One kiss, she promised herself. Just one kiss so she could feel his lust and affection. Surely it would be enough to last? It would have to be enough.

Thane's fingers speared into the heavy fall of her hair, cradling her nape, his grip fierce and exquisitely firm, and with one long, languorous flick and thrust of his tongue into her mouth her knees buckled underneath her.

His cat-like reflexes kicked in and he dropped his hands to her waist to keep her upright.

'Dios, I crave you like a physical ache. Not here, though, angel. I can't lose it with you here,' he breathed in a rush of warm air over her cheek as he ran his nose up the side of hers and rested there for a gloriously intimate beat.                       
       
           



       

No. She couldn't possibly sleep with him. It would make everything a hundred times worse. And what was more …

'Thane, you have to stop calling me that, okay?' It tore off another piece of her heart every time he did.

'What … ? Angel? Why? It's what you reminded me of last night in the limousine, with your hair this colour. Darkly spun gold. Seraphic. Beautiful. As you are, Luciana. Inside and out.'

'D … Don't put me on a pedestal, Thane. I'm no angel. Sooner or later I'll drop from a great height.'

And, like finely spun glass, she would shatter to the floor in a million pieces.

A rueful light flickered in his eyes as he hiked one broad shoulder. 'Then maybe we will be equal.'

Guilt. So much guilt it seemed to suffocate his soul.

'What your father did-giving control to your uncle-it's not your fault.'

Scepticism vied with his obvious desire to believe her.

'What job or mission did you refuse to do, anyway? What would anger him so much that he'd delay your taking the throne for so long?'

That had to have been ten years ago …

A shadow swarmed over his face and in that moment somehow she knew.

Foreboding crackled down her spine and she stumbled back a step. 'Go on. Say it.'

He shoved his hands through his wind-tousled raven-black hair and his chest swelled as he hauled in air. 'How did you know?'

'I wasn't sure until right this moment. But rumours have a way of reaching the right ears and poisoning minds.'

A muscle ticked in his jaw as he gave a short nod. 'I disobeyed a direct order and refused to kill your father.'





CHAPTER NINE

LUCIANA CURLED UP on a cushioned recliner on the beach and gazed up at the midnight sky, wishing on a billion twinkling diamond stars that Thane's business calls would take all night. But, as she already knew, burying her head in the sand would help no one-least of all herself.

The drive back down to the coast had been taut with tension, and by the time dinner had been served on the upper floor balcony Luciana had been strung so tightly she'd barely eaten one mouthful of the delicious seafood paella Hanna had slaved over. Which had only made her feel guiltier still. And she wouldn't have thought that was possible.

Closing her eyes, she recalled their brief conversation in the car.

'I didn't want to tell you,' he'd said. 'I thought you'd hold it against me.'

'I'm glad you told me. You saved his life in the end. It must have been a horrendously hard call for you. Thank you … '

Thane had saved her father's life. Paid an extortionate price for disobeying his tyrannical King. All for a man he hated. His enemy.

And how is he being repaid? His son is being kept from him. I didn't know. I didn't know any of this.

The guilt and pain tearing through her in one relentless lash after another wouldn't cease. Not for a second.

One day. She'd been here one day and the enormity of what she'd discovered had her reeling. In truth, she wasn't sure she was taking it all in.

The rush of the ocean lapping over the shore was broken by the sound of bare feet padding down the deck, sending her heart trampolining to her throat and her stomach vaulting with a hectic tumble of dread and anticipation.

Thane straddled the recliner in front of her, one long-stemmed glass of ruby-red liquid in his large grip.

With a wriggle, she edged back to give his broad frame more room, and rested her head against the mocha cushion to drink him in.

He was breathtaking. His dark, fathomless eyes pulled at her like a hypnotic suggestion pressing against her mind. A constant murmur of want that was becoming impossible to ignore. But fight it she would.

'You are very quiet since we got back,' he said, his voice low and warm with concern.

'Just thinking.'

'No more thinking of the past tonight, hmm? Let's focus on the future. On us.'

She wasn't sanguine enough to believe there would be an 'us' come the dawn.

You don't know that for sure, Luce. He might listen to you. Try to understand.

It was a sliver of hope she clung to.