‘You don’t think that maybe you’re getting carried away here,’ he asked dryly. ‘It wouldn’t be that bad.’
‘Christina got out of the marriage pretty fast. How many women did you have on the side while you were married to her?’
‘These things are understood-’
‘In royal marriages,’ she snapped. ‘Not the marriages I know.’
‘What marriages? The one-sided affair your parents had? And you…How much experience have you had? And you’re hardly likely to marry for love now.’
Uh oh.
She’d moved behind her chair and was holding onto it as if she needed its support. Her knuckles were so stretched he could see the white of the bone under her taut skin. Maybe he’d gone too far…
‘So I’m an old maid as well as everything else,’ she hissed. ‘A fallen woman; a spinster past my use-by date. Expected to fall on my knees in gratitude at your very generous offer.’
‘Look,’ he said, trying hard to figure how to placate her. She was breathing too fast. Her breasts were heaving with indignation and her face was flushed with fury. How to really mess up a proposal…He had to get this back on track. ‘Holly, we really need it.’
‘You know, I can’t figure out even that,’ she said. ‘You took me to bed when I was seventeen and that can’t be changed by anything we do now.’
‘No, but I can be seen as honourable,’ he told her. ‘If it’s only a matter of time before reporters talk to your mother then it has to be a fait accompli. When the first accusation comes I need to be able to say yes, it’s a shock that I fathered a son. I can’t understand why Holly didn’t tell me. We were romantic kids. However now I’ve found out, of course I’ll do the honourable thing. Luckily I’m single again, so I can give her my hand in marriage.’
‘She doesn’t want it,’ she snapped.
‘Why not?’ It was a harsh, loaded question and it brought the silence back. She stared across the table at him as if he were an alien-as if she’d never seen him before in her life.
‘Because I’m free,’ she managed at last and it was such an unexpected response that it was his turn to stare.
‘Pardon?’
She closed her eyes. ‘Okay, Andreas. I’m trying to get my head round this. You need to do the honourable thing. Marry me. But that means I’d be in the royal fishbowl.’
‘I don’t understand.’
‘You know, when you used to tell me about your life back here, the money you had at your disposal, every indulgence, parties, women, luxury beyond belief, I wasn’t even jealous. You know what I thought? I thought poor little rich boy. Maybe that was even why I fell into bed with you. I felt sorry for you.’
‘Sorry,’ he said, astounded.
‘I’ve seen what can happen to royalty,’ she said. ‘It gives me the horrors. I want to walk down the street and buy a can of baked beans and a packet of Tim Tams for dinner, any time I want.’
‘Baked beans?’ The conversation had suddenly headed at a tangent he couldn’t follow. Candlelight. Fireflies. A soft warm wind. A wedding proposal. And the talk had turned to baked beans.
‘What would happen if you want baked beans for dinner?’ she demanded.
‘I wouldn’t,’ he said, revolted.
‘We’re playing make-believe here. Indulge me.’
‘I’d ask Sophia…’
‘Right. You’d order baked beans from your domestic staff. And Sophia would raise her eyebrows and say “What does Prince Andreas want with baked beans?” But of course your wish is her command so she’d write the royal shopping list and servants would go to one of those shops with the fancy insignia saying Suppliers to Royalty. And the shop assistants would have a chat about why you want baked beans and what are Tim Tams anyway, and when they find out then they’d say why doesn’t Prince Andreas buy local food. Maybe Aristo produces excellent chocolate cookies, so why aren’t you supporting local industry? Maybe it’d even make the papers.’
‘You’ve thought this all through,’ he said, puzzled. ‘You’ve thought about your life as a royal bride. Does that mean you’ve thought of marrying me before?’
She stared across the table at him and her expression changed. The anger was replaced with confusion.
‘How dare you?’ she whispered at last.
‘You have thought of marrying me?’
‘I carried your child for nine months. Of course I thought of marrying you. What woman wouldn’t? It was a fantasy solution to my problems. But it was only ever a fantasy and I got over it.’
‘So how long did you carry me in your heart?’
Her jaw dropped. ‘What?’
‘My investigators tell me there’s been no man for years.’
Her breath sucked in with fury. ‘Your investigators can go to hell.’
‘The locals say Adam’s death shattered you. Was part of that me? That I wasn’t there?’
‘Leave it,’ she whispered, but she might as well have yelled. She stood, holding onto the table with fingers that were clenched so hard her knuckles still showed white. ‘Of all the arrogant, conceited-’
‘We were in love.’ He rose, watching her steadily across the table. ‘We were in love, Holly.’
‘You don’t know what love is. You who never wrote…’ Her voice broke. ‘I hated you. I just hated…’ She gasped and pulled back from the table.
It was too much. He moved involuntarily, striding the few steps to her side before he realized he’d intended it, grasping her hands, holding her against him. She fought, wrenching away, but he held her regardless, holding her tight until he felt the fight go out of her. He felt her slump against him, defeated by the strength of her emotions.
The present disappeared. Suddenly nothing else mattered but that this was Holly. And he’d distressed her.
What was he doing, proposing marriage when the past was still between them? When he’d caused her so much pain.
He touched her hair with his lips, smelling the clean, citrussy fragrance of her. Feeling her palpable anguish.
‘Holly, I wish I’d known,’ he said softly into her hair. ‘I’m so sorry you were alone. And I so wish I’d known about Adam.’
‘He was…he was…’
‘I can imagine.’
‘You can’t,’ she said dully, the anger seemingly spent as anguish took over. ‘He was your son and you never knew him.’
He didn’t release her completely, but let her stand far enough apart so he could look down into her face.
‘I am sorry,’ he said again, for it was the only thing he could think of to say. It wasn’t enough. He knew it the moment the words were out of his mouth.
‘Why didn’t you write?’ she demanded.
‘I was marrying another woman,’ he said. ‘I was promised in marriage. That didn’t mean I didn’t think of you every day for years.’
‘Says you,’ she answered and he shook his head.
‘You must believe me, Holly.’
‘I must believe you so I’ll agree to do what you want now?’
‘Holly, this marriage…our need to make this right…it isn’t just for me and for my family.’
‘Isn’t it?’ Her voice was pure scorn. ‘I’d imagine King Zakari would make a very good king for both islands. The islands would be joined as one kingdom again. I expect you and your family would keep your fabulous wealth. So what’s the problem?’
‘Half our island could lose their livelihood,’ he said flatly, holding her wrists tighter still. ‘My father has tied the money in the island so close to our own fortune that if we’re no longer here then half the industry on Aristo will fail. I agree,’ he said as she opened her mouth to retort. ‘It’s a dreadful situation and given time we will be able to fix it. But time’s not on our side. We have to have a coronation and soon. If we can’t find the diamond then the people get to choose who rules them. Like you, they’ll say we wish to stay to feather our own nest. But it’s not true, Holly. We need to stay to keep the island financially stable.’
‘Many women…’ he said softly, changing his grip so she received the utmost semblance of tenderness he could manage. The utmost entreaty. ‘Many women would give their eye teeth to be a princess.’
‘Are you crazy?’ She wrenched backwards, so abruptly that he finally let her go. ‘Andreas, I know nothing of your world. How can you ask it of me?’
‘Find out. Come back with me to the mainland. Meet my family.’
‘And be photographed from every angle as the woman you seduced years ago? To have a whole country saying I should marry you? No, thank you.’
‘Then decide now,’ he said. ‘Marry me now and go back to the mainland as my bride. But you must marry me.’
‘I must do nothing. There’s nothing in it for me.’
‘How can you say that?’ He didn’t have a clue where to take this from here. His instinct was to shut up, to leave it, but the need was too urgent to let it go. ‘There’s a crown. There’s money.’
‘I’ve done very well for all my life with no crown and no money.’
‘Then what about me?’ Andreas said, watching her face. Knowing there were more than cold hard facts ruling her. ‘I ask again, have you done very well without me?’
‘I’ve had to,’ she managed through clenched teeth. ‘Do you think I haven’t tried to forget?’
‘But yet you’ve remembered,’ he said softly, and he moved again. But slowly, giving her time to back away if she wanted. Purposefully. ‘As I’ve remembered.’ He reached for her hands again and held, but lightly, no pressure. But he pulled her in all the same, the force not of physical strength but almost as a magnetic pull so two bodies that belonged together came together.
He’d been wanting to do this for so long, since the first time he’d seen her, angry and miserable and frightened on the plane. Maybe since he’d left her all those years ago. When she was little more than a girl.
She was no girl now. Nor was she frightened. Despite Alex’s outrageous wardrobe collection with its heavy sexual connotations, Holly’s no would mean no.
But she was still furious, and she was still confused. He could feel it in the rigid way she held her body, yet she still allowed herself to be tugged against him. It was almost as if she needed to see if there was something there.
There certainly was. On his part at least. He felt his body respond as her beautiful curves came in to lightly brush against him, and it was as if he were touched by fire.
Her dress was truly lovely and had been worn by no woman until tonight. It could fit no other, Andreas thought as his hands slipped to her sides and felt the way the silk clung to every inch of her as if it were another skin.
He could feel the warmth of her body under the silk. Involuntarily his hold tightened. His hands found the small of her back and pressed her tight against him. There was a moment’s resistance but then she yielded, letting her breasts be crushed against his.
Holly.
He’d forgotten a woman could be so beautiful.
‘Do you remember the first night I kissed you?’ he whispered and she gave a sharp shake of the head.
‘Liar,’ he said, smiling softly. He remembered it like yesterday. His green girl. It had been the first night of his arrival. Her parents had given a ball in his honour. She’d been dressed all in white. When all the guests had gone he’d been left in the homestead’s massive ballroom and she’d been sent in to help clear glasses. She’d dropped one. It had snapped in two, they’d bent together to retrieve the broken portions and had almost hit heads. But then…they’d been so close…to kiss her had seemed the most natural thing in the world.
As it was now. His long, tanned fingers tilted her chin so his mouth could lower to meet hers. Wondrously she didn’t resist. For whatever reason, the fight, the anger had faded. He felt her hands on his hips, and gloriously they were tugging him closer.
And then the sensation ceased as his mouth met hers.
The years slipped away. Right there. Right then.
He’d thought his memories of what he’d had with Holly all those years ago had been tinged rose-coloured with distance and regret. When he’d made love with his wife he’d thought longingly of what he’d felt with Holly. It had distressed him unutterably. Finally he’d dismissed the memories as a boy’s romantic imagining, unfair to Christina, to be blocked out as fanciful and unreal.
Only it wasn’t. He knew it now, the moment he touched her. For this was no kiss. It was the searing fusion of two bodies kept apart for too long, two bodies meant to be together as one.
Forged by fire…That was how it felt. The heat was not imagined-it was real-a flame consuming all, making his hold on her tighten so he was crushing her against him as his mouth devoured hers, taking as well as giving, demanding her response, needing her as he needed a part of himself.
Holly. His heart, his home. The words slashed into his consciousness. How could he have forgotten his desire for this woman? He’d pushed it into the dark recesses of his memory, yet here she was, exquisite, desirable-and free.
He was free as well. Fix it, Sebastian had ordered, and he could, simply by taking this woman as his wife.
Holly. His captive wife. He was tasting her, loving her, wanting her. She was all his, folded into him, with his body moulding against hers. His hands slipped to her hips, cupping the smooth rise of her thighs. He was tugging her closer, closer, but still she wasn’t close enough. Without breaking the kiss he lifted her, up into his arms, against his heart.
For one glorious moment he felt her submit. He felt her arms come round his neck, deepening the kiss, clinging, merging into him. She was his. His!
But then…He shifted slightly, to gain a better hold, and the movement broke the contact. Just a touch-a heartbeat. But it was enough. He felt her hands come between their breasts and she was pushing away.
No! He tugged her close, intensifying the kiss, but she was hauling away, breaking the contact.
‘Andreas, stop.’
And he knew what she was saying. For already he was turning towards the bedroom, intent, desperate, wanting only to be as close to this woman as he could possibly get.
He could take her. This was his woman.
But this was Holly, and somewhere beneath the smouldering desire of a royal prince was a boy who’d been in love. Instinctively, involuntarily, he hesitated and looked down at the woman in his arms. Her eyes were dark with passion but there was something else. He expected anger but the anger was gone. In its place…
Trouble. Doubt.
‘Agapi mou…’ he said softly. ‘My heart, what is it?’
‘I don’t want this.’
‘You don’t want me?’
‘That’s not what I said,’ she whispered. ‘I think I want you as much as life itself-I always have-but, Andreas, you have to give me time to think.’ It seemed as much as she could do to get the words out.
‘If you think then you’ll refuse me,’ he said simply.
‘Then maybe I have to refuse you,’ she managed. ‘Please, Andreas, put me down.’
‘And if I don’t?’ He didn’t want to release her. Damn his scruples. He was prince here after all, and this was his woman. This was how he felt about her. She was the mother of his child and he wanted her so much his thighs burned.
‘If you’re the man I think you are then you won’t take me against my will,’ she whispered and it was said with such assurance that he groaned inwardly. But he set her to her feet. It felt like cutting his heart out. To lose her…
‘You want me as much as I want you,’ he growled. ‘Admit it.’
‘My body wants you,’ she said, and suddenly her voice was even; sure. ‘But my head’s saying we’re crazy. My head’s saying we ended up pregnant before when precautions didn’t work. Will I risk ending up with another baby-maybe even another loss and grief-because of one night’s passion?’
Her words were enough to sober him. I
t was enough to look into her eyes and see the truth written there-a pain he hadn’t shared, which had torn her in two.
So he released her. She staggered as he set her away from him, and it was as much as he could do not to react, to watch her gravely as conflicting emotions flitted over her face, as she stepped away from him-as sense won over raw desire.
‘I…need space,’ she said unsteadily and backed toward her room.
‘But you’ll think of what I’ve said?’
‘Yes, I’ll think,’ she whispered. ‘And, Andreas?’
‘Yes?’
‘I’ll think because you did set me down,’ she said. ‘I’ll think because you showed honour. Despite all that’s gone before, I trust you. If you say you need to marry me for your country’s sake, then I believe you. But that doesn’t mean I agree. I need to get it right in my own head first. You have to give me time.’
‘I-’
‘Don’t say any more. I can’t afford to listen.’
‘Holly-’
‘No.’ She blocked her ears and she tried for a smile-a smile of a child in mischief. It almost came off. With her ears firmly blocked she turned away from him. ‘Lalalalalalalalala,’ she sang at the top of her voice. ‘Lalalalalalala.’
And, still singing, she fled.
He turned and Sophia was watching. She was holding a tray as if she was about to clear things from the table, but he knew she’d been standing there, listening.
‘Were you about to hit me with a wine bottle?’ he asked ruefully, and she smiled at him, but her smile held sympathy.
‘I know you, my Andreas. You would not hurt her more.’
‘I would never hurt her.’
‘You already did.’
‘Did she tell you that?’
‘Rumours,’ she said simply. ‘They’ve reached even here. I heard you fathered a child with this woman?’
‘And…’
‘And this one has lost a baby. I know this. I talked to her about my sons and I saw her pain. And now you stand back with honour. So what will you do?’
He stared down at her, his old nurse, a lady in her sixties, bossy, matriarchal. His servant.
His brothers might raise their brows in supercilious disdain and walk away. He could not.
The Prince’s Captive Wife Page 6