Suave and sinfully hot, that commanding body was sheathed in one of his de rigueur custom-made Italian suits. The biscuit hue was striking against his olive skin as was the torso-hugging crisp, white open-collared shirt he wore beneath. In short, he oozed gravitas from his every debauched pore, and the brooding expression on his face made him look as dangerous and piratical as ever.
Those dark eyes fixed on her mouth as she slicked her glossy lips with a flick of her tongue. 'Luciana … ' he murmured. 'I … '
And when they flicked back up to meet hers a meteor shower of dazzling sensation exploded inside her pelvis.
Oh, Lord, he still wanted her. She knew it. Also knew he was fighting it. Fighting it with all his might. As if his anger lingered and he wanted to hate her but couldn't persuade his body to obey.
'You were going to say … ?' she prompted.
His throat undulated on a hard swallow. 'Only that I'd like us to try and be a family today.'
She wanted to ask why. For whose benefit. But caught herself in the nick of time, annoyed at her suspicious mind. Who cared why? He wanted to try and that was okay with her. An enormous step in the right direction.
'I would too,' she said softly. 'And maybe later we could talk?'
The sooner they discussed her going home and their marriage the better for all of them. They couldn't go on like this.
Thane gave her an enigmatic smile that failed miserably to instil her with any kind of confidence. But before she could pin him down Nate burst between them, bouncing on his loafered feet like a coiled spring.
'There's Santa's house! And look over there! A big sleigh! Can we ride in it? Can we? Oh … Is that the Three Kings? They look scary.' Of course he looked up to his big warrior. 'I don't want to see them, Daddy.'
Luciana watched those wide shoulders relax, watched bad-boy, dominant Thane disintegrate like milk-sodden cereal in the face of all that cherubic idolisation.
'I'll take you to meet them and show you there is nothing to be afraid of-okay?'
Nate didn't look convinced, but climbed up Thane like a monkey all the same. 'Okay. I'm ready.'
'Are you ready, Luciana?' Thane asked.
To spend an evening being a family? Something she'd always dreamed of?
'I'm definitely ready.'
* * *
Ten minutes. That was all it took to sense that Nate's insuperable case of hero-worship for his father was nothing in comparison to that of Thane's people.
The intense magnetism he exuded grew in strength the further they walked, until he was an imposing impression of vibrant and unrelenting power. But those waves of energy flowed with a palpable warmth that was positively endearing. And for the first time she didn't see a ruthless soldier, born to fight, she saw a prince of the realm born to be King.
It was such a thrilling sight she couldn't calm the flurry of burning butterflies inside her, their tiny gossamer wings stroking her heart with pride and her stomach with want.
The town was utterly delightful. Stone façades with deep wooden lintels and picturesque fairytale windows lined the intricate alleyways, and there was a lovely blend of quaint bespoke shops and chocolate box family homes. A few were a little shabby, and there was a subtle cloud of poverty in the air, but it wasn't so obvious as it had been in the outskirts they'd driven through to get here.
As Thane had told her, his uncle's tyrannical rein choked his people. The fact that they were still so pleasant and joyful was humbling. In truth, she still found it amazing they were so accepting of her. The enemy in their midst.
By the time they reached the main square night had fallen, and the colossal fir tree taking centre-stage near the clock tower burst into a dazzling display of a million twinkling stars of light.
Nate gasped in delight, cheering along with the flock of festive gatherers, and Thane laced his warm fingers through hers with a gorgeous half-smile that sent a shower of unadulterated happiness raining over her. It was one of those moments in time she wished she could freeze-frame, because it held the promise of unaccountable tomorrows. Of what might be.
He was trying so hard tonight. And she was determined not to suspect that his efforts were merely for the cameras. The cameras that now flashed around them in a dazzling firework display.
Squeezing his hand, she relished the spark of their fiery magical connection and tugged him towards a carpet of colour: rows of stalls that were a complete festive indulgence. Jingle-bell-shaped cookies. Apples dunked in glossy red candy and Swiss white chocolate. Unique crafts and objets d'art. Handmade jewellery and amazing tree decorations-intricate blown glass figurines, hand-carved wooden rocking horses and baubles etched with snowflakes.
Thane bought half of that stall, since Luciana and Nate oohed and ahhed over it all.
The yummy, nutty smell of roast chestnuts and frangipane Stollen floated in the air and lured them to the food tent, where Thane and Nate indulged in pancakes drizzled with chocolate sauce. Luciana chose the Galancian version of mulled wine, its scent heady and seductive, and by the time she cradled her third cup she felt half sloshed.
'Thane, is this stuff strong?'
'A little.' He narrowed those black sapphire eyes on her. 'Do you drink often?'
'Nope.'
'Okay, no more for you.'
His hand a claw on the rim of her cup, he tried to wrangle it from her death grip. Then he pursed his lips to stem the laughter that glittered in his gaze.
'Let go, Luce.'
Luciana peeked up at him through the veil of her lashes, feeling naughty and reckless and so happy that he was smiling again. 'Make me.'
He growled-the sound dangerously feral. 'Are you drunk?'
'Don't be daft. Of course not.'
The tent made her a liar by taking her for a spin.
'Good, because we are going ice skating.'
Oh, heck.
'Fancy a coffee?'
* * *
For four minutes Nate was like Bambi on ice-all legs and flailing arms. Not that he was discouraged by smacking off the hard surface every five seconds. Guerreros were made of stronger stuff than that. He just picked himself up, wobbled a little, and off he went again.
As for Luciana, she was all style and grace-but the Galancian mulled wine had put her in a fun-loving, giggly mood that was so infectious it obliterated the darkness that had been festering inside him.
'Daddy, watch me.'
Nate perfected a double twirl and Luciana clapped, sending a battalion of bystanders cheering along with her.
Daddy. Why he'd chosen that over Papá was a mystery, but Thane liked it. Every time he heard it his heart did a funny little clench.
Nate suddenly faltered and Thane skated over, scooped him up by the waist and lifted him high into the air like an aeroplane. His huge grin as he squealed in delight etched itself into Thane's memory, his heart.
Time slowed.
Snow drifted lazily from the canopy ceiling as they spun round and round.
Nate screeched his name and whooped with joy. And realisation hit him with the ferocity of a thunderbolt.
He wouldn't even be a daddy at all if it weren't for Luciana, would he? She'd gambled with her reputation, risked bringing disgrace upon her house, her country, overturned the colossal expectations of a royal firstborn heir and fought to have his son out of wedlock. Without her courage Thane wouldn't have this moment. This perfectly wonderful moment in time.
No matter where he'd been for the last four years, no matter what he'd missed, without Luciana he wouldn't be gazing into eyes so like his own. Wouldn't have this precious fragile body to hold, to cuddle or to spin in the air. Wouldn't be able to incite the adorable innocent smile that never failed to lift his soul. Without Luciana he wouldn't have this moment or one hundred more just like it. The opportunity to have a million more after it.
And then came a crack of lightning, incinerating the remnants of his anger, leaving him awash with need. The need to wrap Luciana in his arms and thank her from the bottom of his black heart. Come to think of it, the fact she'd wanted Thane's son so badly at all astounded him.
When Nate was safely perched on his blades and had tootled off, Thane instinctively swivelled to find her-and somehow, like a whirl of fate, she crashed into his arms, her gorgeous curvy body plastered flush against his.
'Oops,' she said breathlessly. 'I nearly went over. Are you okay?'
Why? he wanted to ask. Why did you want my son so badly? The son of her enemy. That had to mean something. Right?
'Thane?' Affectionate concern etched her brow as she stroked his jaw, rubbed her thumb over his cheek. 'What's wrong? Why are you looking at me like that?'
He speared his fingers into the fall of her hair and dived into her eyes. 'Thank you.'
'For what?' she whispered.
'For fighting for him. Making sure he took his first breath. For telling me now, for trusting me now, so I can have him in my life.'
Tears brimmed in her eyes. 'Oh, Thane, I'm so sorry you've missed so much. If I could turn back the clock I would do it in a heartbeat.'
He believed her. He did.
'I can tell you everything,' she promised in a frantic whisper.
'I'd like that.'
'Every last detail. Show you a million photographs so you can see it all … '
'Shh.' He pressed his index finger to her mouth, then dragged it downwards, curling her plump lower lip, coaxing her to open for him as that ever-present magnetic pull-the one he'd been battling for days, the one he was powerless against-drew them together. And when their lips touched that blistering crackle of electricity jolted through his body, sizzled over his skin, fired heat through his veins. Stronger than ever before.