Kidnapped for His Royal Heir

by Maya Blake

  ‘Don’t flatter yourself. You’ve been disagreeable, discourteous and downright rude, but you’ll have to go a long way to be fearsome. To me at least. Can’t speak for the masses.’

  He raised his eyebrow at her list. ‘I’ve been all of those things? How very trying for you.’

  ‘Like I said, don’t flatter yourself. I can more than handle you.’

  The flames leapt higher. ‘Can you really?’

  She hesitated, her gaze meeting his for one bold moment before sliding away.

  ‘How about we make a deal? For tonight only, you have my word that I’ll be more...accommodating.’

  That regained her attention. ‘And what does that entail, pray tell, seeing as it’ll be a complete novelty to me?’

  He shrugged. ‘I’ll leave the testing of it up to you. But if you intend to interrogate me, I suggest you come closer. I don’t wish to compete with the mighty waterfall for conversation.’

  She glanced from him to the thundering waterfall, then swam in lazy, graceful strokes towards him until she was just beyond arm’s length.

  His fingers vibrated with the strongest urge to snatch her, plaster the body that had shattered every night’s sleep since their arrival against his.

  It took a monumental effort to resist the urge, to stay put as she eyed him with thinly veiled suspicion. His poker face must have passed muster because she ventured a shade closer. Until he could count every moonlit pearl-shaped drop on her flawless skin. Trace the fullness of her lower lip and watch the sensual sweep of her tongue lick away the droplets that clung to her soft flesh.

  His fist bunched as need climbed higher. She saw his reaction and for a moment triumph flashed through her eyes. The foolish little witch... ‘Has no one taught you it’s unwise to play with fire?’

  One shapely eyebrow lifted. ‘All I’m doing is swimming, Zak. You’re the one who seems to be...disturbed.’

  Even as she said the word her nostrils fluttered, and he was willing to bet the moonlight hid her blush. That innocent reaction triggered an even more urgent question.

  ‘Do you have a boyfriend, Violet?’ He suspected not, considering her mother’s end goal, and the certainty that if mother and daughter’s goals were aligned, they would be circumspect about publicising such a relationship. But that wasn’t to say Violet, like any other matrimonially ambitious socialite, wouldn’t seek to amuse herself along the way to landing herself a rich husband. The sudden need for confirmation intensified the longer she hesitated. She opened her mouth and he interrupted the heated rebuttal. ‘Or a conveniently clandestine lover, willing to keep your bed warm until he’s no longer of use to you?’

  Expecting anger or even a heated denial, all he received was a withering look. ‘This is you on your accommodating behaviour? What is it about me that chafes at you so badly you feel the need to keep picking at my character?’

  For the first time in his life, Zak suffered the sting of...shame. He refused to give it another name, refused to consider that this form of attack spoke to a vulnerability in his own character.

  ‘Or is it because you’re unwilling to admit you’re stumped when it comes to me?’

  ‘Hardly.’ He infused his tone with as much boredom as he could muster.

  Head tilted, she regarded him with something close to...enlightenment. ‘That’s it, isn’t it? All these weeks you’ve been expecting me to behave a certain way, confirm all your suspicions. And I’m not, am I?’

  Those last words were uttered so softly the thunder of the waterfall almost snatched them away. But he heard them. Heard and refused to acknowledge even a fraction of them held any truth. He wasn’t stumped. He simply needed more proof.

  The last time he’d accepted anyone or anything at face value, he and his family had paid a steep price. Shattered trust was a difficult thing to regain.

  While Violet Barringhall may not represent a toppling of his family’s throne or epitomise his personal anguish, Zak had learned not to give any quarter.

  ‘Your mother has been hounding me with emails, demanding to know how her precious daughter is doing.’

  She stiffened, her hands momentarily stilling in the water. ‘What did you tell her?’

  ‘Nothing, so far. She doesn’t quite rate in my list of priorities. Not yet anyway.’

  She tried to hide her relief by glancing away. Zak allowed her a moment’s reprieve before he continued, ‘That’s not to say I won’t send her the response she seems to crave. I was curious about one thing, though...’

  Her gaze snapped back to his, apprehension flashing in her eyes. ‘What?’

  ‘Her continued insinuation that this project, you being out here, is all some sort of perfunctory exercise for you. A stepping stone to what you’re really after.’

  Again, emotion flashed in her eyes, frustration and perhaps even hurt. But she mastered her expression, a little too admirably. A different need hammered at him, one that wanted to see her...undone. Unfettered.

  ‘If you think I’m going to dishonour my mother by maligning her just to prove a point, you’ll be waiting a long time,’ she snapped.

  Loyalty. A quality he would’ve admired if not for the disturbing reactions teeming inside him. ‘You want me to make up my mind one way or the other about you, then prove it.’

  ‘I thought I already had this past week.’

  ‘Work is work, and I’ve yet to make up my mind on that score. Like you said, this is personal. Prove that all this isn’t some sort of tedious playing-hard-to-get game.’

  Her beautiful eyes narrowed and she expelled a stunned breath. ‘Reverse psychology? Really? What do you want? For me to prove I can indulge myself with you for a few minutes, then walk away instead of begging for a ring on my finger the way you believe I yearn to?’

  The curiously husky note in her voice intensified the pressure in his groin. The scenario wasn’t as deplorable to her as she pretended.

  He smiled, the voice whispering at the back of his mind that he was enjoying this far too much ignored as he replied, ‘It doesn’t necessarily have to be a few minutes. A fraction of time to show me you can operate with no strings attached. An hour or two will suffice.’

  She gasped, and this time he swore he saw the colour suffusing her face. Either the challenging Lady Barringhall was prone to blushing or her innocence was more than surface deep.

  The hot coil of possessiveness and need was totally misplaced and deeply unwelcome. And yet there it was, sinking twin talons into him as he watched her alluring face.

  ‘You want to kiss me as much I desire you to, Violet. There’s no shame in admitting it,’ he stated boldly. ‘Or perhaps it’s the begging part that worries you? Would it please you if I took that off the table too?’

  She inhaled sharply. But despite her desire to cling to outrage, Zak read her interest loud and clear. Saw the way her gaze dropped to linger on his mouth before darting away. ‘You can have any woman you want, according to the giddy tabloid headlines. Why are you here, needling me, Your Highness?’

  Never had his title sounded so sultry, so insistently arousing, falling from a woman’s lips. He wanted to hear her breathe it all over his skin, wanted her gasping it when he buried himself deep inside her.

  His fists bunched beneath the water as the powerful surge of need momentarily stunned him. ‘I could never resist a challenge. Perhaps I wish to see how long you can truly hold out.’

  Her eyes glinted and for a moment Zak feared he’d finally pushed her too far.

  In the next moment, however, Violet tripped him up completely by slicing through the water. She came straight at him, one hand sliding up his nape to fist his wet hair while the other curled around his shoulder.

  And because he absolutely didn’t want to spook her into changing her mind, Zak held stone-still, watching a touch of confusion then resolution settle on her face. He
ld his breath as she levered herself closer, plastered her chest against his.

  And slid her lips over his.

  One moment. Two. Five excruciating seconds he managed to hold out.

  Then he sealed her in his arms, glorying in the smooth, supple feel of her skin as he locked her to him and took over her far too tentative exploration.

  She tasted even headier than before, the sensual slide of her tongue when he breached her sweet lips a lightning bolt to his system.

  Dio, how was she doing this to him? Even as he tasted and savoured, his hunger built, threatening to shatter his control. A soft, throaty moan left her mouth. The sound curled around him, hardening his already rock-hard shaft.

  She registered her effect on him, gasped against his lips as he groaned, and deepened the kiss until he was unsure where her body ended and his started.

  Until only his lazy kicks kept them afloat.

  Until Zak suspected nothing would douse the flames leaping within him save for the ultimate act. The thought staggered him, made him wonder if he was willing to take things that far.

  Si, his charged libido insisted. She’d accepted his challenge.

  Perhaps he needed to prove his own point, deliver a message to the Barringhalls and every grasping leech out there that the Montegovas weren’t to be trifled with.

  They were both consenting adults. Even if one of them exuded innocence that hinted she might be unschooled in some aspects of sex.

  Again the thought sent a pulse of primitive possession smashing through him, even though he refused to believe it. Made his caresses bolder, hungrier as he cupped her breast and toyed mercilessly with the stiff peak. Her unfettered shiver and sharp cry drove him even further into insanity. Drowned him in the urge to devour her.

  He growled in protest when her fingers slid out of his hair. About to command her to return them, to pull tighter...harder, he stopped when she dropped her hands to his shoulders. Anticipating more, Zak trailed his lips down her throat, tongued that leaping pulse he’d been thirsting for all evening. Gratified when she gave another delicious shudder.

  Right before she altered her touch. The hands on his shoulders weren’t caressing. They were insistently pushing him away. A little stunned, he watched her kick away from him. ‘Is that enough for you? Are you convinced now?’ she asked, her voice passion-husky but determined.

  ‘No, I’m not. Because that wasn’t enough, mia bella,’ he growled, lunging forward to recapture her. Drag her close once more. ‘Not nearly enough.’

  * * *

  Electrifying sensation threatened to douse the warning signs flashing through Violet’s brain as Zak lowered his head. The thought of experiencing his explosive kiss once more, of feeling his tongue and teeth and lips saturate her senses made her whole body grow weak, wantonly needy.

  It was a good thing he still held onto her or Violet was sure she’d be a useless lump at the bottom of the pool right now.

  He drew closer still, his sensual lips a tempting whisper away.

  Dear God, what was she doing?

  Proving a point. But one that she’d already proven, surely?

  Not nearly enough.

  His words echoed in her head, louder, more insistent, eroding her common sense. Because he was right. That taste hadn’t been nearly enough. All it’d done was rake over every dampener she’d put over her emotions and reawakened them so rudely, so effortlessly it’d set her whole body on fire.

  Now the very thought of walking, or swimming away, felt like an insurmountable task. One that would be made easier by giving in one more time?

  She ignored the voice mocking her logic, made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a whimper when he held himself that last scant inch away. Ruthlessly teasing? Or perhaps as unsure as she was?

  She ventured a glance into his eyes. And was met with blazing arousal that left her in no doubt that Zak was as into this as she was. Still, his lips brushed furtively over hers. Sizzling but way too brief.

  With a helpless groan she sealed her lips to his once more, ignoring his grunt of pure male satisfaction.

  Just once more. One more minute and she’d end this insanity.

  They strained against one another, determined to best each other in this battle of wills and kisses that required a victor. When the hot steel rod of his arousal imprinted itself against her belly, she whimpered some more, a driven urge to touch him, stroke him driving her hand beneath the water.

  At her first touch, he tore his lips from hers. Eyes dark and mysterious in the failing light raked over her face. At first, Violet thought the thundering in her ears would surely deafen her. Until she realised they’d swum right up to the waterfall.

  She blinked against the drops pelting her face, gasped softly when Zak’s large hand framed her jaw, tilted her head upward to meet her gaze. Without releasing her, the arm banding her waist lifted her onto one flat boulder.

  He moved between her legs, ferocious intent in his eyes.

  She wanted to compare this moment to those in her mother’s garden six years ago, but Violet knew she couldn’t.

  For one thing, the cool reserve lurking in his eyes then was nowhere in sight now. The hands trailing up her knees to frame her hips were possessive, purposeful enough to convince her that he wasn’t about to stop any time soon. That unless she stopped it this time, Zak was fully intent on accepting whatever she gave.

  His gaze dropped from hers to trail a fiery path down her throat to the agitated rise and fall of her breasts. One hand moved from her hip, up her ribcage to rest beneath one breast. Momentarily freed from his gaze, she glanced around her.

  He’d set her down on a flat boulder large enough to recline on, solid enough to take both their weight. And with the thundering waterfall now shielding them from the outside world, it seemed like the perfect place for a seduction.

  Was this what he’d intended all along?

  Her heartbeat tripled as she stared at him. Whatever words she was cobbling together to ask him, they dried in her throat as his thumb grazed one tight nipple, his gaze riveted on her face, absorbing her every reaction.

  Another pass and she shuddered, biting back a moan.

  ‘You like that?’ he rasped.

  Violet caught her lower lip between her teeth, absurdly reluctant to admit she did despite the blatant evidence he couldn’t miss. A twist of his lips told her he had his answer and was perhaps content to let her off the hook.

  In the next instant his other hand joined in the torture, moulding the twin globe until she couldn’t help the tight cry that fell from her lips.

  After an electrifying minute, he started to draw back the wet fabric of her bra. And at last she found a shred of common sense. ‘Your guards—’

  He shook his head. ‘They won’t disturb us. Their job is less about watching me and more about watching out for potential threats.’

  Her privacy protest battered away, she was confronted with another question that loomed large in her mind.

  Was this really happening?

  ‘Should I be pleased or insulted to be excluded from that scenario?’ The question was a throwaway one, meant to buy her time to regroup and rebalance, but she was nowhere near sane, shuddering as he caught her flesh between his thumb and forefinger and squeezed.

  Expecting a rapier-sharp comeback, perhaps even desperate for one to restore her sanity, Violet was mildly stunned when his face grew dark and dangerous. ‘Any misjudgement will be down to me. Not them.’

  She couldn’t help but wonder if there was a hidden meaning behind his words. A meaning she herself needed to heed before it was too late. ‘Zak—’

  ‘I believe that’s the first time you’ve used my name. Say it again, Violet.’

  ‘Why?’

  Expert fingers caught her chin, angling her face so he could better scour her expression with his
electric gaze. ‘Because I find my name on your lips...pleasurable.’

  ‘Zak.’

  Ferocious eyes spiked into hers. ‘I want to taste you,’ he announced, his voice hot, raspy, setting fire to her pelvis. ‘Stop me now if you don’t wish this to continue, Violet.’

  She opened her mouth intending to do exactly that or at the very least slow down this relentless freight train of passion threatening to run away with her. At the last moment her throat closed up. Was this a turning point? Or was this her opportunity to draw a line under what had started six years ago?

  She’d spent long endless nights craving more of that brief taste of desire. Now he was offering her a feast on a platter. Wasn’t he? She searched his gaze, eager to discover whether this was another prelude to a rejection. She found only a fierce hunger that matched her own.

  But hadn’t he looked the same that night too?

  Sensing her reticence, Zak dropped his hands from her body and rested them on the rock beside her hips, holding her in place just with the look in his eyes. ‘Don’t overthink this. What happens here stays here, Violet.’

  ‘You mean in the light of day we forget that this ever happened?’ Why did that press on a tender spot in her chest?

  He shrugged. ‘If that is what you wish. What it will not be is a pretence that what happens between us here will lead to something more. That is not on the table.’

  Why not? she wanted to ask, but she already knew the answer deep in her bones. Something more would never include the likes of her. She only needed to glance at his family history to see the sort of pedigree the Montegovas chose to have lengthy relationships with.

  Remi had been engaged to a woman with a flawless background, despite her commoner status, and their mother was a renowned ex-beauty queen, coming from a prestigious family and an heiress before she’d married the King.

  Even now, the Crown Prince was said to be hunting for a woman of impeccable pedigree to replace his dead fiancée. Violet was sure nowhere on that list was a minor aristocrat with a background soiled with near bankruptcy, disgrace and a tabloid-hungry mother who sold gossip on a regular basis.