Kitabı oku: «Royal Baby: Forced Wife, Royal Love-Child / Cavelli's Lost Heir / Prince of Montéz, Pregnant Mistress», sayfa 3

How many times?

What a joke.

How few times?

But at least for now he remained where he was, seemingly content to watch her from a distance. If his stance was relaxed and casual, a smile tugging at his lips as he leant back against a polished timber table with his hands at his side on the glossy wood and his ankles crossed in front of him, there was nothing of a smile about his eyes. She shivered, reaching out to clutch the cool wood of the lounge back as she felt their purposefulness wash over her. They were the eyes of a predator, glinting and dangerous, and right now they were fixed on her, content just to watch. She turned away before he might see her fear. The sooner she was out of here and away from Rafe, the better.

Why didn’t he make a move to stop her? Did he know the door she was heading for was locked and her quest to escape doomed accordingly? Her already wary footsteps slowed. Was he merely playing with her like a cat with a mouse, letting her think she would soon be free when she was trapped in here until he deigned to let her out? And would he laugh again when she turned the handle of the door to find that, too, locked?

Sienna swallowed back on a gasp that threatened to turn into a sob, tears of frustration all too close.

‘It’s locked, in case you were wondering,’ he said behind her, reading her thoughts and her intentions with ice-cold precision.

She didn’t want to believe anything he said but she believed that. Why would he allow her any chance of escape when he’d kept her locked up the entire afternoon?

So she threw him a cold look over her shoulder and changed direction, heading towards the wall of full-length windows instead of towards the door, as if that had been her goal all along. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ she lied.

She came to a halt next to the window, her arms crossed over her thumping chest, thankful that at least she’d managed to put several metres between them as she pretended to gaze out unconcernedly over a view of sea and sun and cliff-top so spectacular it should have taken her breath away.

But it was the empty helipad that filled her vision and thoughts, a sight that tore at her all over again and freshened the sting of unshed tears. How the hell was she supposed to explain what had happened when she got back?

‘Why are you so desperate to leave?’ Even from across the vast room, his rich voice filled the room like it was little larger than a shoebox. ‘I thought we could use a little time to get reacquainted.’

She shot him a look, sending her braid flicking heavily over her shoulder. ‘You really expect me to believe you mean reacquainted? Or horizontal?’

His eyebrows lifted at that one. ‘I didn’t realise you’d be in such a hurry, but if that’s what you’d prefer …’

Her cheeks burned and she turned back towards the glass. Why the hell had she given him any idea of the direction of her thoughts? And the answer came back instantaneously, loud and clear. Because she only had to look at this man and her thoughts turned horizontal, along with her wishes and desires. ‘The only hurry I’m in is the hurry to get out of here.’

‘You have no desire at all to resume our relationship?’

‘We never had a relationship!’

‘No? What would you call it, then?’

‘A fling. A one-night stand. And I would have thought that given that night is long since over, then so too is any kind of “relationship” we might have shared.’

‘You think it’s over?’

This time it was her turn to laugh. ‘Oh, I think you made that pretty plain at the time.’

She turned, wanting to see his reaction to that but finding him suddenly closer, shocked that she’d been totally unaware that he’d silently closed half the distance between them while she’d kept her gaze fixed sightlessly at the window.

He stopped a few short paces from her, his head tilting, his gaze delving deep into her. ‘You’re angry with me. Because I let you down.’

‘No way!’ That would imply she actually cared one way or the other. ‘I think we both got what we wanted that night. I’m over it.’

‘Are you,’ he said, one side of his mouth turned up as he moved still closer, ‘I wonder.’

She scoffed, and continued to stare pointedly towards the window in an effort to disguise the backward movement of her feet. ‘Don’t be ridiculous.’

‘I think you’re afraid of what might happen if you do stay.’

‘I’m angry, is what I am.’ She lifted her chin defiantly. ‘Because you think you can ride roughshod over anyone and everyone.’

‘And you wish it could have turned out differently.’

Her shoulders hit something solid and she looked around to find herself wedged in the corner of the room, her frustration mounting as his words struck too close to home and his physical presence came too close for comfort. She backed up tight against the corner, thankful for the solidity of the centuries-old walls. ‘Look, does this palace actually have a telephone service? I’m already late back. I really don’t want to delay my departure any longer.’

‘Stay,’ he said, resting one hand up on the wall beside her head with his elbow bent, now so close she had to tilt her head up to meet his eyes. ‘Have dinner with me tonight.’

She shook her head, wishing the action would also negate the intoxicating scent of the man that came with his proximity. ‘Not a chance. I have to get back and you know it.’

‘So get back later. I’m a lonely prince in a castello. Indulge me.’

‘Indulge you?’ She attempted another laugh—there was no way she was feeling sorry for him—but this one came out all brittle and false so she switched to words instead, remembering the precious cargo she’d had to transport to the island only hours earlier. ‘Besides, what about your Signorina Genevieve? Won’t she be expecting you to dine with her? Or are you planning on abandoning your latest plaything in order to slum it with the hired help?’

His eyes took on a feral gleam. ‘My “latest plaything”? Oh, now, that is interesting.’

She regarded him suspiciously, ‘What are you talking about?’

‘Merely that anyone would think you were jealous. And why would you be jealous of the Signorina Genevieve unless you thought she had access to something you wanted—or perhaps, someone?’

‘Don’t flatter yourself! As far as I’m concerned, she’s welcome to you.’

He sighed. ‘I’m sure she would be pleased to hear you say that, but, alas, Signorina Genevieve has already departed, courtesy of the helicopter you left so carelessly unattended.’ Sienna opened her mouth to protest but he cut her off with the briefest touch of his finger to her lips, a touch which caused a hitch in her breath as her senses sizzled into high alert again. ‘Which means I find myself without a dinner companion tonight.’ He gave a very stiff bow. ‘Would you do me the honour?’

It was surreal. Whatever had transpired between them before, he was now a Mediterranean prince, bowing to a complete nobody and asking her to dine with him.

Unless he was merely desperate …

‘So Lady Genevieve turned you down and you expect me to pick up the pieces?’

Rafe’s hand slammed against the wall alongside her head, before he spun and strode away, his hands on his hips. And when he turned, it was a flash of fury she saw in his eyes.

‘This is nothing to do with Genevieve or anyone else. This is between you and me.’

‘Why?’ she asked, all too aware of the breathlessness that accompanied her question. ‘Why me?’

He moved closer, stopping only inches away before he raised a hand to her face and traced the curve of her jaw. ‘Because the moment I saw you emerge from that helicopter, I knew I wanted you again.’

She gasped, heat rushing through her on a tide. His brazen admission shocked her to her core, but already she felt the answering call of her body to his words in the tightening fullness of her breasts and the aching need between her thighs, and she knew without a shadow of a doubt that if she didn’t get out of here soon, she would once again fall victim to the sensual spell he cast around her.

‘Th-that’s too bad,’ she stammered. ‘I have to go.’

‘But that’s impossible,’ he told her, still in that mellifluous ribbon of a voice, a ribbon that seemed to be drawing ever tighter around her. ‘Because you see—’ he gestured out the window to where a catamaran could be seen rounding the headland and speeding away from the island ‘—that’s the last vessel to sail to Genoa today. And you’ve just missed it.’

His words blasted through the sensual fog more effectively than a dousing with a bucket of iced water. She watched the catamaran power into the distance, leaving behind twin trails of foaming water, feeling herself just as churned. ‘There has to be another way off! An airport. A private charter—’

‘Sadly, not today. And as you can see, we have no helicopter—’

‘That’s crazy. It’s barely six o’clock in the afternoon. There must be something—’

‘As I said, not today. Tonight there will be no moon, and Velattians are superstitious; nobody will risk travelling while the Beast of Iseo patrols.’

‘What the hell are you talking about?’

‘The Beast of Iseo. Surely you’ve heard of it.’ He pointed again out the window to where the massive jagged blade of rock thrust from the sea into the sky some kilometres from the island. ‘Iseo’s Pyramid, the remnants of the caldera of an ancient volcano, is its home. According to the ancient legend, The Beast of Iseo emerges on the blackest of nights, foraging for wayward travellers. It’s a charming legend, full of local colour, don’t you think? Although it does mean you will be forced to spend the night here.’

The full impact of what he was saying hit home like a sucker punch. She was trapped here for the night. With him.

‘I’m not staying here with you. I can’t. My employer will be waiting for me. I’ll lose my job …’

‘Your employer has been made aware of the situation and the fact you will be staying. Besides, you have no choice; there is no way of getting you off the island, even if I could help you.’

‘But it makes no sense. It’s just a legend. And yet you cease all transport to and from the Island because of it?’

‘You’re not superstitious, Sienna? You don’t believe in the Beast?’

‘Oh, I believe in the Beast of Iseo. Right now I’m looking at him.’

He laughed in a way that made it plain he was enjoying his role as captor all too much, and that got so far under her skin that there was no coming out. ‘You bastard. You planned all this, didn’t you? You kept me here, waiting for hours, knowing I’d be trapped and that I’d have no choice but to stay on the island.’

He shrugged, looking far too smug for her liking. ‘I fear you misjudge me. It was hardly my intention at all, merely an unfortunate result of Lady Genevieve’s stage mother’s inability to accept no for an answer. But maybe her recalcitrance was more fortunate than I gave it credit for.’

He gave another bow, this one a mere shadow of the one he’d given before. ‘Now that you have no choice, you might as well accompany me to dinner.’

Sienna shook her head, knowing that way could only result in misery for her, knowing she had to be strong for her pride’s, if not her sanity’s, sake. ‘No, thanks. Not a chance. I’ll find a hotel somewhere. I’ll stay overnight on the island if I have to, but I will not join you for dinner. Not after everything you’ve done today.’

One eyebrow raised, he turned a quizzical gaze at her. ‘All I’ve done is to want to spend more time with you.’

‘Without asking me? By risking my job? No, thanks. I don’t need that kind of intervention. I’ll stay at a hotel and leave tomorrow.’

‘You have money for this hotel? And for the fare you will surely need? Montvelatte might only be a small island country, but we are not so naïve as to extend credit to anyone who so asks.’ His eyes scanned her fitted uniform with the efficiency of an X-ray machine, making her skin prickle under the heavy-duty drill. ‘Your outfit is very practical for flying, but I do not see where you might have secreted away so much as a credit card.’

She burned with humiliation, wishing away her body’s inevitable reaction to his interest, remembering how once before in just one night that interest had succeeded in turning her from an under-experienced woman into a wanton.

‘If you were any kind of gentleman, you’d pick up the expense of my departure, given you’ve disposed of my means of transport behind my back and without my permission.’

‘If I were any kind of gentleman, you would not have found me half as satisfactory in bed …’

His eyes claimed victory; his mouth celebrated it in a smile.

Sienna spun away, her teeth biting into her lower lip as she battled to find a way out of this mess. Of course he wasn’t going to offer her the fare out of here. And, of course, she didn’t have a purse. All she had on her was her ID, a locker key and a few euros in change. But her purse and credit cards were locked away for safe keeping back at the base, the base she should have returned to hours ago.

Damn him!

‘In which case,’ he continued, obviously taking her silence as confirmation, ‘and seeing I have caused you such distress, I feel it is my duty to offer you accommodation here, in the Palace of Montvelatte. You will find the palace very comfortable, despite its great age.’

She glared up at him, knowing she was beaten but not prepared to show it in her face.

‘And I will leave the island tomorrow on the first available transport.’ It wasn’t a question, and right now if he argued the point there was every chance he would end up an even shorter-lived ruler of Montvelatte than his half-brother.

Once again, he made that nod of assent, almost a bow. ‘If that is what you wish.’

She hesitated. Could she trust him? Dared she? But then did she have a choice? ‘Then I will stay. Just for tonight. But I will dine in my room.’

His eyes glinted with something unfathomable. ‘But of course,’ he agreed. ‘Now, let me find someone who can show you to your room. I imagine you’d appreciate the chance to freshen up.’

If she needed reminding of the state she must look, she didn’t want to hear it. But she followed him across the room, already looking forward to having some breathing space to herself, a room where the air wasn’t tainted by the very essence of him on every breath.

It’s just one night, she told herself. Just one night. Tomorrow he would have to let her go. Tomorrow she would be free.

He reached the door and twisted the handle, pulling it open. ‘After you.’

She froze. The door had been unlocked the whole time, the guards she’d seen earlier gone. She’d been just scant feet from the door when she’d decided she’d rather play it cool than be humiliated again. And yet she could have turned the handle and made her escape while he was still a room away. Could she have got away, past the palace guards and the staff? Was there a chance she could have made it to the port in time? She would have managed the fare somehow—offered her watch for collateral—she would have borrowed or begged some form of transport to get herself off the island.

But she hadn’t even attempted to leave the room.

And somehow that was the greatest disappointment of all.

CHAPTER FOUR

THE bath was hot and deep, the foaming bath gel forming a mountain of scented bubbles that comforted her body and soothed her fragile soul. Sienna sighed as she slid down into the slippery water, letting her hair fan out around her like a mantilla and gasping as she came back up again, feeling the weight of water streaming from her hair. Heaven. For a centuries-old palace, the plumbing was definitely state of the art and a major improvement on the cantankerous contraption her landlady labelled a shower and which justified her charging fifty percent over the odds for one shoebox of an apartment in the Thirteenth Arrondissement.

The best part of an hour later, feeling more relaxed than she had all day, she rinsed off the last of the bubbles and wrapped herself in the large plush towels provided. Marble, gold and mirrors, she thought, taking in her surroundings. What was it about that combination that turned a mere bathroom into a destination? Yet beyond the door awaited another, even grander destination, with a massive four-poster bed hung with curtains of lace and fine silks. She couldn’t wait to bury herself deep under the comforter. She hadn’t wanted to be here, but now that she was, there was no way she wasn’t going to enjoy this unfamiliar taste of luxury.

Her stomach rumbled and she gave silent thanks for the healthy sign. Whatever illness or nerves had plagued her earlier today, at least now she could contemplate the notion of food without feeling like she wanted to throw up.

There was a faint knock from outside and Sienna opened the bathroom door a crack to hear a woman’s voice advising in rusty English that her meal was ready. ‘Thank you,’ she called, ‘I’ll be right out.’

She towel-dried her hair until it settled into shaggy ringlets around her face and then rinsed out her underwear in the sink, hanging them over the towel rail. In this warm climate they would dry in no time.

Finally she unwrapped herself from the bath sheet and slipped on the silk robe she’d found hanging behind the door. She’d loved it from the moment she’d seen it hanging there, the jade green silk shot with gold thread, the vibrant shade changing subtly as the fabric moved under the light.

It felt every bit as good as it looked, the material gliding over her shoulders like a silken kiss, teasing her nipples into awareness with every soft shift of the fabric, reminding her all too well of Rafe and his magic touch …

Rafe.

He’d told her he wanted her again.

She sucked in a much needed burst of air. In the panic of not being able to get off the island, in her anger at being manipulated, she had let those words and her body’s reaction to those words slide away. But she hadn’t lost them at all. Instead the words had filtered down to a place deep inside her and taken root, sprouting questions like weeds.

He didn’t really want her. He couldn’t, she reasoned, answering one of those questions herself. Rafe was used to taking what he wanted and she was merely convenient. Available. A man like him would have no hesitation in assuming that after the first night they’d shared, she’d be willing to fall into his bed in a heartbeat.

Ready to discard in yet another.

He was merely toying with her, continuing that cat-and-mouse game he played so well, the predator enjoying the hunt.

He’d kept her here, prevented her from leaving, merely to continue the chase, because he damn well knew the longer he did, the more likely it would be that she would once again fall into his bed.

Sienna pulled the robe tighter around her, giving the tie at her waist a savage tug. She would not think about Rafe. At least, not that way. That other night was over. It was history. Rafe was nothing to her now but a mere inconvenience, and tomorrow she would be rid of even that.

She’d begun separating her hair into sections, preparing to braid it while still damp to control its natural curl, when the scent of food, fragrant and beguiling found its way into the bathroom. Her stomach rumbled again and she paused. It had been hours since she’d had a decent meal. Her hair could wait ten minutes; it wasn’t as if she had other plans for the evening.

So she abandoned the braid, working her fingers through her still damp curls with one hand as she pulled open the bathroom door with the other.

‘You look good enough to eat.’

She stopped dead, a frisson of fear shimmying its way down her spine, a sudden rush of heat pooling in that naked place between her thighs. She abandoned her hair and clutched the robe tighter around her, crossing her arms over her chest for good measure. ‘What are you doing here?’

Rafe smiled at her as he transported dishes from a trolley onto a small table set by a window overlooking cliff-top and sea. A table covered in a lace tablecloth, complete with a floral centrepiece, a candle already lit amongst the flowers even though the evening was still young outside.

A table set for two.

‘The chef has prepared his signature dishes for tonight’s meal. I told him I would let him know personally what you thought.’

‘I said, what are you doing here?’

He looked up at her ingenuously. ‘Having dinner with you.’

‘Even after I told you that I wouldn’t dine with you.’

‘No.’ This time he stopped what he was doing and stood up straight, his eyes raking over her in such a way that she wondered if he could see right through the fabric to the truth of her state of undress beneath. ‘What you actually said was that you would not join me for a meal. So I decided to join you instead.’

Anger welled up inside her, any hint of the relaxation afforded by the bath diminishing by the second. ‘I made it plain that I had no wish to see you again tonight.’

He shrugged, that Mediterranean shrug that told her he cared not a damn for whatever she thought. ‘I did not believe that was what you meant. You should know by now that you have a very expressive body. It told me otherwise.’

Heat flooded her face and she turned away, half regretting it when the sudden play of silk over skin sent her senses shimmering further into overdrive.

‘You have no right—’

‘I have every right! This is my principality, my island, my kingdom. Everything and everyone on it is subject to me. And that, my dear Sienna, whether you like it or not, includes you!’

She wheeled back around, grateful for his outburst. Anger was the reaction she’d wanted. Anger she could deal with. ‘So now you fancy yourself as some petty despot and you’ve come to take what you think is yours. Well, sorry, but you don’t suck me in with all that lord of the manor garbage.

Don’t expect me to fall at your feet like some loyal subject grateful to have been asked to service her lord and master.’

His eyes glittered dangerously, a muscle in his jaw popped, and for a moment she feared she’d overstepped the mark. If he wanted to take her now, by force, who would come to her rescue? She was utterly alone here, in a world that was not her own, where the laws were not the laws she understood and where he was the master, the ruler of all.

But he’d never been a prince to her, just a man, and since his oh-so-rapid excision of her from his life, not a man she respected, let alone particularly cared for. So there was no way she would stoop to playing the game by his rules.

‘Oh, I never assumed it would be that simple.’

His intentions thudded into her sensibilities with all the subtlety of cannon fire. Slowly she shook her head. ‘I won’t sleep with you,’ she said, her voice abandoning her, leaving her with nothing more than a hoarse whisper.

‘That remains to be seen.’

‘I mean it, Rafe. Been there. Done that.’

‘If you say so. So why don’t we just concentrate on what we do agree on? Are you hungry, Sienna?’

Was he talking about food? The way he looked at her, his gaze warm on her skin, his eyes electric in their dark intensity, told her otherwise.

Her stomach chose that precise moment to make itself heard. Sienna shifted her arms over her stomach, but nothing could muffle the rumble, loud and insistent.

He smiled. ‘Clearly you also have a beast that requires feeding. Come. Sit.’

She was hungry, so hungry that not even Rafe’s presence could make a dint in it. But there was no way she was going to be comfortable enough to eat while clad only in a thin silk robe. No way in the world.

‘I … I’ll just get dressed.’ She turned to collect her uniform where she’d left it lying on the bed, thinking that even without the underwear still drying in her bathroom, it would put more of a barrier between them than a mere whisper of silk.

But there was no uniform. She looked around, confused, sure she’d left it on the bed before her bath. She pulled open a closet door, thinking it might have been hung up, to find the closet devoid of everything but hangers.

‘Is there a problem?’ he asked behind her.

‘My uniform. It’s gone.’

‘Why should you need it?’

‘I left it on the bed, and now it’s gone.’

‘You seem to have an unusual knack for losing things. First, your helicopter. Now your uniform.’

She wheeled around, not fooled for a moment. ‘You might consider this is all some sort of game, but I don’t.’

‘I assure you, this is no game.’ His expression sent shock waves through her system, his voice set so low and deep that the words vibrated through her, and his eyes lit with an intensity that left her breathless. ‘And just for the record,’ he continued, letting his lips turn up into the barest of smiles, ‘your uniform is in safe hands. It has merely been taken away for laundering. You will have it back by morning. Do you have a problem with clean clothes?’

Damn the man! ‘Only that you expect me to sit down and dine wearing nothing more than a silk robe. Of course there’s a problem!’

His eyes flared as they cruised hungrily over her robe like a heat-seeking missile. ‘Nothing more?’

She turned away, cursing herself for her inadvertent admission, but he didn’t wait for her response. ‘If you feel at a disadvantage, I could similarly divest myself of a few extraneous garments.’ She turned back to see him make a move to start unbuttoning his shirt and she tossed her head, determined not to let him see just how much he’d rattled her. ‘Don’t be ridiculous! I didn’t want, and wasn’t expecting, company. What I meant is I’m hardly dressed for dinner.’

‘On the contrary,’ his eyes raking over her with all the subtlety of a hungry jungle cat, devouring her in a single heated glance, ‘you are delightfully attired. Did anyone ever tell you how much those tones complement your colouring? You have the most beautiful skin,’ he said, drawing close enough to touch the back of one finger to her cheek. ‘Like the finest porcelain. So pale, almost translucent.’

Her heart was beating so loud she was sure he must hear it, her nipples so rock-like under their silken covering, there was no way he couldn’t see them if he lowered his eyes.

But his gaze remained fixed on her face, searching her eyes, before lingering so long on her lips that they tingled under his scrutiny, so long that she realised she’d been holding her breath the entire time. Her lips parted as she drew in air, and suddenly his scent filled her and she could taste the man on her tongue, and the hunger she had been feeling changed direction.

He could kiss her now. The thought came from somewhere from the deep, dark recesses of her mind, somewhere forbidden and unwelcome. But the path was clear. He would kiss her, and she would accept his kiss, and then she would push her hands against his chest and be the one to break it off, before things went too far, before he assumed more than he already had.

But first—oh, God yes—first she would have that kiss.

The air crackled around her, heavy with expectation, every breath an eternity as his lips hovered so close to hers, the tug of his fingers through her hair and the glide of his nails against her scalp an exquisite torture.

And, as she gazed up at him, something skated across his eyes, something that told her he thought he had her right where he wanted her, something that tugged her ability to reason right back from whatever dark place she’d temporarily locked it away.

And reason told her she’d been kidding herself. Because if she kissed him now, she’d never stop. If she put her hands up to his chest it wouldn’t be to push him away, but to drink in the feel of his skin over muscled chest with her fingers. And one kiss would never be enough.

‘You’re right.’ She mouthed the words, hardly recognising her own voice as she saw the answering question in his eyes, momentarily thrown off track.

‘About what?’

It was her turn to smile. ‘I’m famished.’ She turned her head away, forced herself to move, clumsily at first, awkward in making her body move away from where it most wanted to be, before sinking gratefully into a chair. ‘What’s for dinner?’

Rafe watched her go, bemused by her sudden change of mood. Seconds ago she’d been his for the taking. Seconds ago the meal had been all but forgotten and promised to be long cold before they returned to it.

She wanted him, she’d made that more than plain with her parted lips and hitched breathing. She had wanted him then and she still wanted him, if the flame-red cheeks and the way she studiously refused to meet his eyes were any indication. She was just determined not to give in to it. Just like the last time, when she’d played hard to get.

But just like last time she would capitulate. And just like last time it would be worth the wait.

It wouldn’t take long. He’d give her until the end of tonight’s meal. And then he’d soon change her mind about leaving any time soon. One night had not been enough; he couldn’t imagine it being enough again. And, after the last few frenetic weeks, he deserved a little relaxation. What better way to get it?

Rafe sighed as he joined her at the table, pulling a chilled bottle from the antique silver ice bucket before reaching over to pour her a glass of the local wine, already looking forward to the next few nights. He needed a distraction from worries about casinos and international financing and rebuilding the world’s trust in Montvelatte. He needed something to persuade Sebastiano to ease off on the wife hunt. Just for a while.

‘No,’ she said, holding up one hand. ‘No wine, please.’

He held up the bottle so that she could see the label. ‘Are you sure? It’s a vintage San Margarita Superiore, the island’s pride and joy.’