To Claim His Heir by Christmas(31)

'What are you saying, Luce? You don't want to marry me?'

'No, Thane,' she said, shaking her head, her brow pinched. 'I don't.'

And when one single diamond teardrop slipped down her exquisite face he felt as if noxious venom infected his veins, surged through his body, making him destructive, malevolent, black. As if he contaminated her with his darkness.

What more proof did he need than the evil voice whispering in his mind to make her marry him? Force her by threats to take away her son. And that disgusted him. It made him sick to his stomach even to think of it. The idea he was turning into his father.

She smoothed her hand over her midriff, as if he made her ache inside, but her tone strengthened as if she was resolved. Her stance one of weary resignation. 'But I will marry you. For my son. He needs you and he loves you.'

Thane closed his eyes. Why didn't that make him happy? Why couldn't he be satisfied with that?

Verity hailed down on him in an icy blizzard, pummelling his flesh through to his bones. He longed for her to want only him. For Thane to be enough.

Idiot, he was. He'd done the one thing he'd sworn he'd never do. He'd let her creep past his defences. Again. And that petrified him-because he'd never be enough to make her happy. Just as he hadn't been enough for his mother. To make her want to stay. He was too much like the man he'd sworn he'd never be. Twisted, selfish, possessive, dark inside.

Look at her, his inner voice whispered.

She was so beautiful she made his breath catch, his heart stall in his chest. But that solitary tear-track that shimmied a pearlescent dew down her cheek said it all. It said that one day she would hate him for imprisoning her here. Despise him. It said that one day she might fly to her death with a euphoric look of peace on her face as she finally found freedom. From him. From her life here.

And he couldn't do that to his son. Take away the woman who loved him beyond Thane's wildest imagination.

He wanted Nate to be happy. Have the kind of childhood Thane had never had. Peaceful and joyous. Learn how to be a good man with a pure soul and to be able to love another with his whole heart. Surely that was the greatest gift he could give him? More than horses and dogs and spaceships and candy canes. And to be that person Nate needed Luciana. Not Thane.

Unchaining the doors to the cage, he threw them wide open, his throat so swollen and raw every syllable hurt. 'You are right, Luciana. Of course you are right. You need to go back.'

That glorious body slumped as she gave him a tight, grateful smile. 'We'll just be gone a couple of days. Back for this … this wedding on Christmas Eve-'

'No.' He cut her off with a shake of his head, commanding his tone not to falter, to stay strong. 'There is no need. No hurry. Spend Christmas with your family if you like.'

That had been his mother's worst time for missing her loved ones. Had once made blood trickle from her wrists as the depths of her depression found no bounds.

Unwanted, harrowing, his dark, tormented mind made one of those incongruous leaps, placing Luciana in that bloodbath …                        
       
           



       

Dios, maybe her leaving long-term was for the best after all. It would only be a matter of time before he destroyed her. He'd rather have her alive somewhere else in the world than dead by his side. And, while he truly believed Luciana had more strength than his mother had, Thane could easily kill her spirit-was already doing so-and that would be a great tragedy in itself.

He lavished himself with one last long look. At that incredible dark bronze tousled tumble of hair. The perfect feminine curves of her body. Those big, beautiful brandy-gold eyes now swimming in confusion.

'Well … if you're sure,' she said, relief blending seamlessly with her bewilderment. 'We could think about getting married in the New Year. But don't you want to spend Christmas with Nate? He'll miss you.'

'No,' he said, turning his back on her, unable to lie to her face as he strode to the door.

If he thought for one second that she might come back he would hold out hope. And it had almost killed him waiting night after night in Zurich, praying she'd walk through the door. A second serving of that persecution would ruin him.

Fingers curled around the door handle, he pushed his final retort past his lips. 'I won't force you into a marriage you don't want, Luciana. In the long run that will only harm Nate. I'll explain to everyone that things haven't worked out between us.'

'Wha … What do you mean? What about Nate? Your crown?'

'I'll find another way.'

There was no other way. But in that moment he realised he'd crawl through the dust of his heart to give her what she wanted, needed. He'd make up for the delay to his people somehow.

'As for Nate-we will arrange visits.' Though how he'd manage to say goodbye every time, he wasn't sure.

'Thane? Turn around-look at me, please.'

He couldn't. He'd change his mind.

'I'll arrange a jet for early morning. But I can't be here when you leave. I'll be at the castle. Business.'

The barracks was his destination, and he knew it. He needed to be out cold when she left. He didn't trust himself otherwise. And there was no better way to vanquish his emotions than via his father's legacy.

'Be careful, Luciana. Love my son for me.'

'Thane, please wait. Talk to me.'

The soft pad of her footsteps sounded behind him and he momentarily stalled as her sensual jasmine and vanilla scent curled around him in an evocative embrace, luring him back.

No. No more talking. He didn't want her to see what lay beneath. Something too dark to describe.

Thane hauled open the door before she could touch him and vaulted up the staircase to the foyer, where he snatched his keys from the side table and stormed into the night.





CHAPTER FIFTEEN

TWELVE HOURS LATER thousands of miles separated them, and not only was Luciana still reeling from their final showdown but the man refused to leave her be.

Blind to the lush Arunthian vista as the car snaked up the steep incline towards the palace, she saw only those intense obsidian eyes searching her face before he'd sped from her suite, as if he were committing her to memory, as if she were the brightest star in his universe-it was a devastating impression she couldn't erase.

Nor could she erase the questions trying to wade through her woollen, sleep-deprived brain-why was he suddenly willing to give up twenty-four-seven access to his son, delay taking his throne?

Because despite his inglorious method of coercing you into Galancia, his intentions were pure. His only thought was for his people, and he wouldn't force you down the aisle for anything.

And she couldn't have made her desires clearer, could she? No.

A fiery arrow of self-censure tore through her chest and she squeezed her eyes shut. 'No, Thane, I don't want to marry you.' But in that moment-that gasping, suffocating moment-she truly hadn't. Had only envisaged a life of dictatorship, one-sided love and the misery of duty. Where she became a dark blonde replica of her mother.

And that had petrified her. Thrown her into a panic that had whirled out of control. Muscles burning, aching to run and never, ever return. And the idea that she could consider, even for a millisecond, parting him from Nate again made shame crawl over every inch of her skin.                       
       
           



       

With a restless shake of her head she cuddled Nate to her side, forcing herself back to the present, and glanced up at the fairytale façade of Arunthe Palace-all cream stone walls and fanciful turrets with conical slate roofs-as the car rocked to a stop outside the grandiose scrolled iron gates.

And when the habitual dread didn't pervade her body, didn't line her soles with lead, suddenly, astoundingly, she watched a smile play at her mouth in the reflection of the window. Apparently battling with the dark Prince had given her the courage to face anything. Even her mother's disapproving glare and her father's steely, vexed countenance as he rehashed her latest escapades in reckless rebellion.

But, unlike five years ago, he would not make her feel guilty, dirty, shameful or unworthy-he no longer held that power over her. She refused to grant it to him. It was not wrong to want her son or to wish for the hedonistic passions of love. To reach beyond her expectations. Thane might fight dirty at times, but at least he fought. Hard. For what he believed in, what he desired above all else. Taking a leaf out of his book wouldn't hurt.

Thinking about it, right at this moment she'd never felt so strong in her life.

Claudia-tall and dark, striking and radiant-appeared at the arched entryway, shielding her eyes from the sun, and leather creaked as Nate bounced at the sight of her.

'Go inside with Auntie Claudia, darling. I'll just be a few minutes.'

'Okay, Mamá,' he said, darting from the car and bolting up the stone steps.

Luciana raised splayed fingers-five minutes?-and on her sister's nod, the door slammed shut.

The locks clicked into place and she depressed the internal speaker for the driver.

'Another limousine, another town. How are you, Seve?' She'd swear she'd seen more of this man in the last few days than Thane.

Down came the privacy screen on a soft whirr, until she stared into deep-set titanium eyes sparkling with amusement in the rearview mirror.