To Claim His Heir by Christmas(23)

'You can't go and get him. How will you get past my father? I don't want any fighting or trouble, Thane.'

He jabbed a menacing finger in her direction. 'On your head be it.'

With that, he surged across the limestone patio, rubbing his face with his hands.

Within seconds Luciana had gripped his arm, was pulling him round to face her.

'No, Thane. Where my son is concerned you will listen to me.'

There was a fierce light in her eyes. As if she had some voracious maternal instinct.

Cynicism curled his lip. This woman? Who'd denied her son his father for more than four years? Thane's father had been a brutally fierce man, but when Thane had asked for him he'd come. Just as Thane should have been given the chance to be there for his son. But, no, he'd had that opportunity stolen from him.

'Do you honestly want your introduction to Natanael to be throwing punches or behind prison bars? He isn't like you, Thane. He's not big and tough, resilient and strong. He's small and kind and loving and beautiful, and he's only four years old. Please. Let me go and get him. Bring him here.'

Thane wrenched his arm out of her grasp. 'Let you go and not return? Disappear off the face of the earth? With my son? Again? I think not, Luciana. To suggest it just shows how much of a fool you think I am.'

'Then let me ask Lucas to bring him.'

'Lucas Garcia?' he said disgustedly. 'Are you mad?'

'Natanael loves him and Claudia-they're his family. He's with them right now.'

The sharp teeth of anger bit into his heart. 'I am his family.'

Her eyes closed momentarily. Those long lashes were coated with crystals and it vexed him that he was still noticing such things about her. Vexed him beyond belief.                       
       
           



       

'Just … please let us make this as easy on Natanael as possible. I don't want him scared. Let him come here on your turf and meet you properly. Peacefully. Please, Thane.'

He hauled in air, trying to think through the clattering maelstrom. The last thing he wanted to do was frighten his son; the boy didn't even know him. But he didn't trust Luciana to come back. He didn't trust her at all. Never would again.

Furious that she'd pushed him into a corner, he bit out, 'I will give Lucas Garcia three hours. Then I will go for my son myself and to hell with your father. I will get past him if I have to crush Arunthe Palace into the ground.'

She curled her quivering hand around the base of her throat. 'They'll be here.'

When she glanced up at him, with those brandy tarns full of anguish, for a moment he felt himself falling under her spell. So bewitching. Making him blind to anything but her …

Not any longer.

Thane forced himself to deflect her considerable charms. She'd lured him in for the last time.

'They'd better be here,' he incised. 'I'll never forgive you for this, Luciana. Four years I have missed of him. And if you think I am missing one more day you are grossly mistaken. When he steps foot on Galancia he is here to stay-and so are you. You will not leave here. Neither of you will. We will marry without delay and he will be acknowledged if it is the last thing I do on this earth. And that I promise you.'





CHAPTER ELEVEN

LUCIANA STOOD IN FRONT of the double porcelain basin in the sumptuous marble bathroom suite and flipped on the faucet. Cupping her hands beneath the flow, she watched the icy clear liquid pool and then splashed it over her face, dabbing the tender puffy skin beneath her eyes.

Keep it together, Luce. You'll get through this.

She plucked an oyster hand-towel from the rail and patted her face dry, daring to peek at her reflection in the mirror. Lord, she still looked ghastly. And the black jeggings and white shirt she'd chosen to wear didn't help a jot. Not that she cared for her appearance-she just didn't want Lucas to latch on to her wretched state or he wouldn't leave. Didn't want Natanael to pick up on her mood either. This would be hard enough on him as it was.

Insides shaking, she gingerly walked back through to the bedroom … and, darn it, just the sight of those rumpled sheets and the lingering scent of their passion brought the wave of misery rushing back-so tall and wide it flooded over her in a great gush and she couldn't stand up in it. Couldn't even seem to breathe through it.

Crumpling to the bed, she tried her damnedest not to break. Not to splinter apart. She had to stay strong, because the next few days would be hard enough. Days? Try weeks. Try a lifetime.

Her conversation with Lucas played back in her mind.

'Please, Lucas, you're the only person I trust to get past my father and do as I ask. Thane knows. If you don't bring him I don't know what he'll do.'

Already he paced like a caged animal, face dark, implacable. Cold. And if his brutal, austere demeanour wasn't enough for her to know she'd destroyed any chance of happiness between them, his words tormented her heart and soul.

'I will never forgive you for this …  We will marry without delay … '

Luciana was unsure what was worse. An emotion-free marriage in which her heart was safe. Or being married to the man who'd always owned her heart and yet hated her in return. And loathe her he did. She'd never forget the look on his face. Such disappointment. Such hatred.

But Nate will have his daddy and you won't have to leave him any time, any place, anywhere. You'll spend every day with him and see him grow into a great man and that will be enough.

Of course it would be enough. It was all she'd ever wanted since the day that little stick had turned blue.

Lucas had promised to be here on the hour-though he wasn't happy about it. His tone had suggested she'd gone stark raving mad. But luckily Claudia had smoothed the way. Thanks heavens for Claudia and her huge heart and quick mind.

Breathe, she told herself. In and out, slow and even as she made her way up four flights of stairs to the vestibule.                       
       
           



       

The future was staggeringly vague-and wasn't that the story of her life? No idea what tomorrow would bring, how they'd live in this strange place where they didn't know a soul. She was asking herself how they would fit in, how she'd explain to her father that she wasn't taking her crown, how her own people would react on discovering they'd no longer have a new queen in the spring.

Thane had said she'd never leave, but that had to be his anger talking-he couldn't possibly be serious. She'd have to go home before they wed … give a speech renouncing her birthright. Then enter a marriage she couldn't bear to contemplate. And, wow, that seemed to be happening a lot lately.

All of it was churning in a relentless, nauseating roll. Until she felt insecure. Vulnerable. Defenceless. And by the time she stepped beneath the overhang of the palatial entryway, restless angst clutched her midsection, making her bow forward so hard she faked tying the satin bows on her pumps to cover it up.

Come on, Luce, you can do this. It's just like being at home, right? Serene smiles. Cool façade. Think … poise and grace. By Christmas you'll be a carbon copy of the ice queen that is your mother and in a barren, loveless marriage.

Oh, God.

Luciana pinned her spine straight and stood on the top step, squinting at the black dot swelling beneath the sun. Plagued by the need for someone to take her hand, tell her everything would be okay.

No, not someone. Not just anyone.

Chancing a look at Thane, she sneaked a peek towards the base of the stairs where he stood-separated from her by metres that felt more like a vast yawning chasm she had no clue how to fill.

As if he could feel her eyes on him Thane turned his head to catch her stare. His dark eyes were stormy and full of condemnation as they snared hers in an unbreakable glare.

She wanted to battle it out with him, make him see her side of things, but this wasn't the time or place. And deep down she knew he'd never look at her in any other way. Certainly not the way he had last night. With need and adoration and respect. Something close to joy.

Luciana sank her teeth into her bottom lip, unable to sever the dark, hypnotic pull, and for a second-when the faintest crease lined his brow-she imagined those beautiful obsidian eyes shimmered with striations of golden warmth.

Hope spun its crazy web inside her …

Then, with a curl of distaste at his mouth, he tore his gaze from hers. And that web disintegrated into the pit of her stomach.

Deafening, the whoop-whoop of the helicopter grew louder and louder. Her hair whipped around her face and she focused on the only thing that truly mattered.

The colossal machine lowered into a lethal squat on the landing pad in the centre of Thane's huge circular driveway. And the need to run to Natanael-see him, hold him, touch him-had her bolting forward and hurtling down the steps.

At the bottom, Thane snagged her arm to pull her back.

'Wait,' he ordered fiercely.

'Let go of me, Thane.' She felt as if she was hanging by the slenderest of threads over a vast, dark churning abyss and at any moment now the line would snap.

'It is too dangerous-wait a moment.'

He stood with rigid tense-jawed focus, but when the black door swung wide, and Natanael emerged, for a split second he looked as if he'd seen a ghost.

Nathanael careened towards her at a speed of knots. And though he swam in her vision she could still see those gorgeous dimples in his smooth caramel cheeks, those deep expressive eyes so much like his father's.