by R D
‘Just sex?’ The mocking note in his voice made her flush furiously, but before she could answer he went on more grimly, ‘There is also the fact that by joining you here I have tarnished your reputation.’
‘Oh, that’s so old-fashioned.’ She shivered at the sound of her heart cracking. ‘Besides, being your lover should only enhance my reputation.’
‘Amongst a certain sort of person,’ he agreed with distaste.
Desperately Rosie surged on. ‘Anyway, I don’t have a reputation to tarnish—you were shocked when you discovered-’ She jerked to a stop, disconcerted by the sudden glint in his eyes.
‘That you were a virgin?’ he supplied smoothly. ‘Yes, startled, certainly—but delighted.’
‘Why? Because it made me more suitable?’
She realised the instant she spoke that she should have stayed silent. Marriage had been the last thing on his mind when they’d made love at the palace!
Before he could answer she blurted, ‘I’m not going to marry you because we’ve been lovers, or for reasons of state.’ Beads of sweat gathered at her temples.
‘Then how about the fact that you might be carrying my child?’ he told her brusquely.
Cornered, she stared at his implacable face. How could she love him so—so violently, yet be so angry with him?
Steadying her breathing and her voice with an effort that clenched her fists, she said, ‘You don’t need to worry about that. No woman nowadays has to have a child they don’t want.’
He didn’t move, but she sensed a reaction so intense she took an involuntary step backwards.
‘Is that what you would do?’ His voice was level and without emotion.
Rosie couldn’t lie to him. ‘I—no,’ she admitted wearily. ‘But—however great your need for an heir, you don’t have to go to the extreme of marrying me.’
‘I will not turn my back on my child,’ he said with icy precision. ‘Or you.’
Oh, that tempted her—and hurt. Rosie unclenched her hands long enough to spread them out in front of her. ‘Gerd, we don’t know yet—’
‘I would also prefer not to have the world know if my child was conceived out of wedlock.’
‘Would it matter so much?’ The words tumbled out before she realised what she’d said. She couldn’t let him believe she was even considering any possibility of marriage, but before she had a chance to qualify her statement he spoke.
‘Not to me personally, but it would to quite a large number of Carathians. They are a religious, moral people, and rather proud of being so.’
‘Then they shouldn’t try to force you to do things you don’t want to.’ Like marrying someone entirely unsuitable. Hurriedly, she added, ‘If I am pregnant I’ll go back to New Zealand and no one will ever know who the father is.’ Another thought struck her. ‘And…you wouldn’t be turning your back on the—on any child because I’d agree to access whenever you wanted.’
‘Don’t be an idiot,’ he said stonily. ‘Rosemary, if there is a child I want it to be an essential part of my life, not kept hidden away in New Zealand like a guilty secret. And you too—you deserve much more than that.’
She could have wept at that. He was being so intransigent—and for all the right reasons except the most important of all. ‘You should marry Princess Serina—or someone like her. That way you’d satisfy your people and have a wife who knows how to behave as a Grand Duchess should.’
‘I don’t want to marry Serina.’ The arrogant tone didn’t abate at all when he added, ‘And I imagine she’d be appalled if I asked her.’
Perhaps Serina had realised he didn’t love her.
Rosie sternly quenched a foolish, irresponsible hope. That didn’t mean he loved anyone else. He’d been forced into this position, and, being a man of honour he was determined to do his best for her and his possible baby.
His expression relaxed. ‘I realise this has come as a shock to you,’ he said more temperately. ‘However, it is something I have been thinking about ever since you came here.’
Was there the slightest hesitation before the second half of that sentence, as though he’d substituted ‘since you came here’ for something else—something like ‘since we made love without protection’?
‘Why?’ she asked baldly.
His smile was a masterful blend of irony and ruthless charm. ‘You know the reason,’ he said, his tone sending tiny, sensuous shivers through her. ‘It has been there ever since we kissed three years ago.’
If only he would let her see his true emotions—but Rosie could read nothing in his face. She said tautly, ‘I’m not going to agree to marry you because you need a wife and an heir to ratify your position, or because your people would be shocked if the baby was conceived out of wedlock.’
‘Then how about because you want me?’
Her breath locked in her throat. ‘Wanting’s easy.’ She tried to speak scathingly—boldly—but it came out sounding sorrowful. ‘And commonplace,’ she added, hoping the sting in her words would repel him.
‘I forget that you know very little about sex and desire,’ he observed. ‘One of these days you must tell me why you were such an obstinate virgin. But trust me, Rosemary, that what we share is neither easy nor commonplace. Such communion is a rare treasure, one I’ve never experienced before, and one I’m reluctant to give up. Especially since there is no reason for such a vain sacrifice.’
White-faced, she watched him advance towards her, his intention plain.
How long could she hold out if he touched her—if he kissed her?
She stepped back, holding up her hands in a useless attempt to keep him away. He smiled, and bent his head and kissed her mouth.
One lonely night had sharpened her hunger into a craving that corroded her precarious self-control. Although Rosie fought the weakness, the promise of his kiss smashed down her fragile barricades in a surge of sensory overload of such intense sweetness she could no longer resist.
His arms came around her as she kissed him back, and he lifted his head to say against her lips, ‘There’s no need for such determined resistance, my sweet one. I will be a good husband to you.’
Rosie had no doubt of that. He’d be an ideal husband in every respect except one. On a half-sob she said, ‘I wonder if this is how my mother feels every time she takes a new lover?’
His eyes narrowed. ‘I don’t think so,’ he said, his voice cool. ‘I doubt if she ever put up such a determined resistance to any man. And what she seeks from her lovers—unconditional love—is not to be found anywhere amongst humankind.’
Even as she accepted the validity of his logic, Rosie closed her eyes against it. Perhaps she was more like her mother than she’d realised.
Numbly she said, ‘All right, if there’s a baby I’ll marry you.’
‘You will marry me whether or not there is a child,’ he stated, and at last kissed her properly, his arms closing around her as he carried her across to the big sofa.
And it wasn’t one-sided; Rosie felt his body harden against her and shivered, exultant because he wanted her as much as she wanted him. Their mouths met again with such passion she felt herself melt, unable to think—unable to do anything but feel and want.
Against her lips Gerd muttered something before saying starkly, ‘I need you. Here. Now.’
His raw tone shattered the last shards of her resistance. ‘Yes,’ she breathed into his ear, and found the opening of his shirt.
She ran a finger down it, relishing the smooth grain of his skin, the soft abrasion of the hair there. She knew exactly the pattern of that hair, the way it scrolled from one side of his chest to the other before arrowing down to disappear beneath his belt. She had followed that arrow…
Excitement pumped hot blood through her, a fierce sexual drive that transformed her into another person, a woman wanton with love, with desire.
She said harshly, ‘I hope you have protection here.’
Eyes glittering, he rasped, ‘I now have protection i
n every damned room in this villa.’
The muscles in his lithe body flexed with fluid power when he lifted her for another kiss. It felt like a brand, she thought dazedly, a seal on a contract…
It felt like heaven.
He set her down on the vast sofa, smoothly removing her T-shirt so that she was left in only her bra and trousers.
Her breasts tightened, and his eyes narrowed even further. ‘I like that you can’t hide your reaction to me,’ he said. ‘It makes me feel just a little less obvious.’
She expected him to take off the bra, a silky slither of flesh-coloured fabric. Instead he dropped to his knees beside the sofa and kissed her throat, then bent and took an importunate nipple into the moist heat of his mouth.
Instant fire. Instant, mindless need.
Desire so untrammelled the first waves of response shuddered through her. The pressure of his hand at the junction of her legs jerked her hips from the sofa in a thrust of animal hunger.
Gerd surveyed her, sprawled in helpless, voluptuous abandon before him. His face was drawn, set in lines of hunger and need that resonated shockingly through her as he took off her remaining clothes, making the process a drawn-out seduction that eventually had her almost sobbing in a potent mix of frustration and unfulfilled appetite.
But he stood and wrenched off his own clothes as though he couldn’t bear to wait, and when they came together he fuelled that desperate pleasure, goading her further and further towards ecstasy until every muscle in her body screamed for release, for the ultimate passionate fulfilment that his big body and his consummate expertise would give her.
It came in an overwhelming wave of sensation that shook her heart, resounded in every cell, marked her for life. She was still buffeted by passion when Gerd reached his climax, head flung back as he poured himself into her. Locked in his arms, Rosie looked into the future and accepted a bitter truth she’d been afraid to face.
She’d learned to love Gerd when she was barely more than a child, and no other man would be able to take his place.
If she refused to marry him there would be no husband for her, no children…
Oh, she could make a good life, a worthwhile, even satisfying life, but there’d always be an emptiness at its core.
Tears gathered, an ache behind her eyes, and clogged her throat as she fought temptation. Why not stop yearning for the moon?
Why not marry him, take what joy she could from living with him and bearing his children?
Because it would kill something in her to know he didn’t love her—would never love her the way she loved him. She only had to think of her mother, dedicating her life to a rash, fruitless search for that unconditional love Gerd had been so scathing about.
But there would be compensations, the siren voice whispered. And didn’t the alternative seem bleak and unsatisfying?
Oh, yes, her heart mourned. Standing firm sounded staunch and positive, as did walking gallantly into a future without him. But when she thought of watching from a distance while he married someone else and sired those children his people needed…
Gerd stirred and said thoughtfully, ‘I’m too big for this sort of thing.’
On an unwilling snort of laughter, she let herself be pulled up into his arms as he rose.
‘If you’re planning to make a habit of this, perhaps you should buy larger sofas,’ she murmured.
He knew, she realised. Those hawk eyes saw too much, understood her too well.
‘So, what is your decision?’ His words were as uncompromising as his expression.
‘I thought you’d already made it for me,’ she returned acidly.
He shrugged. ‘I hoped you’d see sense. But if not…’ His gaze fell to her mouth, then moved to the soft mounds of her breasts. Amused yet relentless, he finished, ‘If not, you have given me the perfect weapons to use against you.’
‘Why are you pushing for this now—why not wait until after we know whether there is a baby or not?’
He said calmly, ‘Because you would always feel that it was the child who caused my decision, and that is too great a burden for any child—and any marriage—to bear.’
If only he weren’t so—honourable. And so right…
She said through her teeth, ‘Tell me one thing—why do you think I’d make you a suitable wife?’
His mouth curving in an ironic smile, he said, ‘I don’t like the word suitable, but just this once I’ll use your term. I know you, Rosemary. You’re tough and vulnerable, straightforward and outgoing and intelligent and compassionate, and you make love like a very sexy angel. I’ve seen you with Kelt and Hani’s little boy, and I like what I’ve seen. And I know you want me. I think together we can make a satisfying life and bring up happy children.’
Rosie felt his frankness like a blow to the heart. He didn’t love her, and he wasn’t trying to pretend that he did.
She said quietly, ‘Thank you, but what makes you think that marrying you would be good for me?’
‘I wonder if any other man in this world has to undergo such a catechism when he asks a woman to marry him.’ He went on with formidable assurance, ‘You will marry me, sweet girl. Because you want to. And because you know I want you to.’
And there, she thought wearily, he had her, because her love gripped her like a vice, locking her into a desperation so intense she could taste it.
With the heat of burning bridges on her back, she said starkly, ‘All right, I’ll marry you, but on one condition—two, actually.’
His face was unreadable. ‘So—tell me these conditions.’
‘That you’re faithful.’ How would he take this? She angled her chin at him and met his steady dark gaze without flinching, determined to make him understand. ‘And that you’ll always continue to be honest with me.’
‘Of course.’ He held her eyes, his own keen and searching. ‘And I ask the same of you.’
‘Yes,’ she said simply.
Because too many emotions were roiling inside her, threatening to erupt in wildly humiliating disarray, she looked down at the clothes scattered on the floor and started to laugh.
A disconcerting note too close to hysteria alarmed her into abrupt silence. ‘We’d better get dressed,’ she managed to say, relieved when her voice sounded normal.
A distant clatter made her gasp and fling herself off the sofa, sheer terror clutching at her as she hauled on her clothes, gabbling, ‘That must be—but it’s too soon—it’s not—’
‘Calm down,’ he said quietly. And when she went white, he held her shoulders and said, ‘Don’t look so horrified. Whatever happens now, I will be with you and beside you.’
Half an hour later she came out of her bathroom, to find him standing inside her bedroom door, his face expressionless.
‘I’m not pregnant. The test kit showed a negative,’ she said tonelessly, ‘so we don’t need to—’
‘Stop right there,’ Gerd said between his teeth. ‘You made me a promise.’
‘But there’s no need to go on with it now,’ she cried, hiding her misery with a show of anger.
‘It’s too late,’ he said. ‘I’ve already contacted my Press secretary, and he’s alerted the media for an announcement later today. I’ve drafted one out, but I need you to verify a few facts.’
Rosie stared at him incredulously, fighting back rage and a horrible feeling of helplessness. ‘Why have you done this?’
‘Because I suspected that if you weren’t presented with a fait accompli you’d waste a considerable amount of time trying to persuade me to change my mind.’
His look should have put her in her place, but she was too angry to be subdued by any intimidating and utterly infuriating air of authority.
Hands clenching at her sides, she fought for words, finally coming up with an inane, ‘You had no right to go ahead.’
‘You agreed to marry me,’ he said dispassionately. ‘Naturally I warned my secretary, as it will be his job to deal with the media.’
&nbs
p; ‘But—so soon…’ Her voice trailed away, because of course she knew why he’d done it—to stop any further restlessness amongst his people.
From now on her life would be dedicated to Carathia, its welfare paramount. Rosie realised that secretly she’d hoped—oh, for a miracle, for Gerd to put her first.
It wasn’t going to happen.
His voice cool, he asked, ‘Why should we delay? By now probably everyone in Carathia knows you are here with me, so it is better that they realise who you are and why you are here.’
She could think of nothing to say that. After a few seconds she said, ‘I’d better ring my mother, I suppose.’
‘I have just rung her,’ he said smoothly. ‘Kelt and Hani also, and of course Alex. None of them seemed surprised. They all send their love and best wishes. Your mother will arrive in two days’ time.’ He waited for a couple of beats, then added too blandly, ‘On her own.’
Thank heaven for that. Rosie asked, ‘Is she coming here?’
For some reason she didn’t want her mother in this lovely place where for such a short time she’d been so happy.
‘We’ll meet her in the capital.’ He gave her a keen, too-perceptive glance and said, ‘You haven’t had lunch, Rosemary, and Maria is cross with us for not letting her know ahead of time so that she could prepare something special.’
She put aside her shocking, unexpected grief when she’d gazed at the pregnancy indicator and realised she wasn’t carrying Gerd’s baby. ‘We’d better go and eat whatever she has prepared. But in future you should remember that I don’t like surprises.’
His brows drew together. ‘Then I shall endeavour not to present you with any more. Come now, and as there is no child you can drink some of the champagne I’ve chosen.’
Although Maria might have been cross, not a sign of it showed. Beaming at them both, she launched into a stream of rapid Carathian, pausing only long enough for Gerd to translate, ‘She is wishing us a long and happy life with many brave, handsome sons and beautiful daughters.’
Rosie pulled herself together to smile, to assume what she hoped was the happy air of a newly betrothed woman. ‘Thank her, and tell her I’m not so sure about many sons, but if the ones we have are as brave and handsome as you I’ll be content.’