The Man Who Would Be King

by Linda Turner

  Not that she'd ever thought he would, she quickly assured herself. He wasn't that kind of man. No, the problem wasn't Lorenzo. It was her own desire.

  Shocked by the direction of her thoughts, she should have gotten out of bed right then and there and made a pallet on the floor. But it was too late for that. Before she could move, the bathroom door was jerked open and the scent of him drifted to her nostrils, teasing her senses. The bed sank down behind her, and in the next instant, he turned off the light on his side of the bed, plunging the room into darkness and stealing her breath at one and the same time.

  In the hushed silence, Eliza was sure he had to hear the thundering of her heart. It was loud enough to wake the dead and she felt like it was going to pound right out of her chest. But if he heard it, he gave no sign of it. He sighed and turned over into a more comfortable position. A moment later, he relaxed and seemed to drift easily into sleep.

  Her every nerve ending on alert, Eliza couldn't have said later how long she lay there, not daring to move so much as a muscle. It could have been just minutes—it felt like hours. She was convinced she'd never be able to relax enough to fall asleep, but it had been a long day and she was tired. The tension gripping her slowly eased, and with a soft sigh, she, too, shifted into a more comfortable position. A heartbeat later, she was out like a light.

  Beside her, Lorenzo knew the minute she fell asleep. Keeping his head turned away from her, he didn't dare turn toward her. When she'd stepped out of the bathroom in a baby-blue flannel robe and gown, he'd taken one look at her and forgotten his own name. With her face bare of makeup, her red hair curling damply around her shoulders, and the clean fresh scent of lotion teasing his senses, she'd never looked more beautiful. He'd known then, even as he hurried past her to take a cold shower, that it was going to be a long night, and he'd been right. Lying beside her, sharing the bed that was hardly bigger than a sardine can, was much, much worse than he'd anticipated. All he wanted to do was reach for her. He didn't dare.

  Silently swallowing a groan, he resigned himself to staying awake all night. If there'd been a chair to sit in, he would have gladly taken it rather than the bed, but the room was sadly lacking in amenities. The only place to sit—or lie —was the bed. Deliberately, he forced his thoughts away from Eliza and the sweet sound of her breathing to the sound of the television next door. If he listened carefully, he could hear every word and sound effect of the first Star Wars movie.

  Concentrating on the audio to the movie, he never knew when he fell asleep. One moment, he was listening to the sounds of a battle in space and the next, he was asleep. When he woke hours later, the TV next door had been turned off and Eliza was in his arms.

  Somewhere in the back of his brain, an alarm bell rang, but he never heard it. Every thought, every nerve ending, every one of his senses was focused on Eliza. It seemed like he'd been waiting forever to hold her like this, and he hadn't even known it until now. Snuggled against him, her breath a soft caress against his neck, she felt like a dream in his arms. Closing his eyes, he drew in the womanly scent of her and slowly ran his hands over her, learning her curves, the dips and valleys, every sensuous line of her body. And with each stroke, each touch, each caress, he slowly went out of his mind.

  A wise man would have known when to stop, and he'd always considered himself smart when it came to women. But surrounded by the darkness, the real world seemed very far away, and he couldn't see the harm. Not when she felt so wonderful in his arms. Need fisting his gut, he ached to kiss her. Giving in to impulse, he leaned down and found her mouth in the dark.

  Dreaming of Lorenzo making love to her, Eliza sighed in her sleep and pressed close, her body sweetly humming at his kiss. He had wonderful hands, she thought sleepily. He knew just how to touch her to make her float.

  Then his fingers brushed her breast and lingered, gently cupping her through her gown, and she abruptly came awake to discover this was no dream. "Lorenzo!"

  "Make love with me," he rasped softly, tightening his arms around her and coaxing her with a long, drugging kiss. "Feel what you do to me. Don't say no."

  Her body already crying out for his, she couldn't find the strength to say no. Not this time. Not when she ached for him, longed for him, with every fiber of her being. Cocooned in darkness, they were the only two people in the world, and when he reached for the buttons to her gown, then swept it over her head even as she tugged at his pajama bottoms, nothing had ever felt so right.

  With a murmur of need, she surged back into his arms, loving the hard, lean, muscular length of his body against hers. Skin to skin, mouth to mouth, they moved together, always touching, exploring, teasing each other until they were both breathless. And with each caress, each slow stroke of hands and mouth and tongue, the fire that burned between them only blazed hotter.

  Her breath tearing through her lungs and her heart racing, Eliza hadn't been able to stop herself from imagining more than once what it would be like to make love to him. From the few times he'd kissed her, she'd known he was a sensuous man—he would know how to pleasure a woman. But she hadn't expected such.. .caring. She felt it in the gentleness of his touch, tasted it in the passion of his kiss. And it destroyed her.

  "Lorenzo!"

  "I know, sweetheart," he groaned when the need he'd built in her threatened to consume her. "Just let go. It's all right. I've got you."

  Kissing her again, he surged into her, filling her, and just that easily, he pushed her over the edge. With a cry, she shattered.

  Feeling her come undone beneath him, Lorenzo groaned. No woman had ever matched his passion so perfectly. She moved, drawing him closer, and that was all it took to destroy what was left of his control. Burying his face against her neck, he pressed his mouth to the sweet pulse that pounded there and lost himself in her.

  Chapter 9

  Eliza woke the next morning to the sound of Lorenzo shaving in the bathroom. Regret sinking in her stomach like a lead weight, she buried herself in her pillow and groaned. She'd lost her mind last night. That was the only explanation. Lorenzo had touched her, kissed her, and every ounce of common sense she possessed had flown right out the window.

  How could she have been so stupid? she wondered. He was a duke, for heaven's sake! Royalty! He rubbed shoulders not only with his famous relatives, but every other royal family in Europe. He'd been to Monaco and Buckingham Palace and dined with the president! She didn't even want to think about the famous women he'd dated—movies stars and models and the daughters of tycoons. What would a man like that want with a woman like her?

  Granted, she reasoned, he had made love to her. But she refused to let herself hope that that meant something. The search had thrown them together for days now and there was no doubt that there was a spark of attraction between them. Considering that, it was only natural that they turn to each other in the middle of the night.

  But all they'd shared was sex, she told herself firmly. That's all it could be, all it was ever going to be. As a little girl, living in the tiny town of Deer Creek, Colorado, she'd dreamed of kings and queens and castles in the air. She did not, however, live in a fairy tale. Her feet were firmly grounded in reality, and she knew it was only a matter of time before Lorenzo returned to Montebello. When he did, he wouldn't take her with him. He wouldn't marry her. He wouldn't even have a relationship with her after their quest for Prince Lucas came to an end. He might be attracted to her now, but when it came to having a serious relationship, he would chose a blue blood, a woman whose background was similar to his, someone who lived the life of a royal and didn't just write about it.

  She should have remembered that last night. She wouldn't forget it again.

  The electric razor abruptly went silent in the bathroom, and she realized suddenly that he was going to step into the bedroom any second and find her still lying in bed like she was waiting for him. Horrified, she jumped up and grabbed her robe, and not a second too soon. He opened the bathroom door just as she finished belting
her robe. Startled, they both froze, and when their eyes locked, every touch, every kiss, every memory of the night was there between them.

  Her heart pounding, Eliza hadn't meant to even speak about the hours they'd spent in each other's arms. The sooner she was able to put it out of her mind, the better. But the second her gaze met his, she knew that she wasn't going to be able to pretend that last night never happened. Everything had changed between them—she could feel it in her heart and see it in his eyes. If she didn't do something right now to turn back the clock to yesterday, she was going to find herself back in his arms again...and back in his bed. And when he returned to Montebello, she'd be left with a broken heart.

  She couldn't let him do that to her, she thought, hugging herself. He wasn't Robert. He had touched her in a way no one ever had. He could make her cry.

  "We need to talk," she blurted out. "About last night."

  Lorenzo couldn't have agreed more. He'd thought he could control the need she stirred in him, but he'd thought wrong. When he'd woken with the sun to find her in his arms, all he'd wanted to do was kiss her awake and make love to her all over again.

  For the life of him, he didn't know how she'd done it. He wasn't one of those men who took every woman he dated to bed, but he'd made love to his fair share of women over the years, and there was always a part of his heart that he'd kept in reserve...until last night. She'd lit a passion in him unlike anything he'd ever known before, and hours later, he was still reeling from it.

  "All right," he said quietly. "What about last night?"

  He had to give her credit. Obviously this wasn't easy for her, but she didn't beat around the bush. Instead, she looked him right in the eye and said, "It was a mistake. It can't happen again."

  He should have been relieved. He didn't want her or any other woman messing with his emotions. He'd been there and done that in the past, and he didn't care to repeat the experience. Oh, one of these days, he supposed he would fall in love again, but not now. Right now, he was committed to finding Lucas, and he didn't have a clue how long that would take. Before it was all said and done, the search could take him just about anywhere, and there was a good possibility that Eliza could be with him every step of the way. Considering that, getting romantically involved with her could turn into a disaster. It was better if their relationship remained strictly professional.

  Knowing that, however, and having the woman who had rocked him back on his heels admit that she didn't want to repeat the experience were two different things. Right or wrong, what they'd shared last night had been incredible, and having it classified as a mistake stung his ego.. .and his heart. And he didn't like the feeling at all.

  For no other reason than that, he told himself he was grateful to her. If he needed an excuse to back off, she'd just given it to him.

  "I agree," he said coolly. "I'll make sure it doesn't happen again." By never touching her or kissing her again, he silently vowed. Then he wouldn't be tempted.

  Eliza should have been relieved. This was what she wanted—a strictly platonic relationship—and he didn't seem to have a problem with that. So why did she suddenly feel so hurt? He'd only agreed to what she'd insisted on.

  Confused, the crazy urge to cry again stinging her eyes, she stiffened her spine and quickly changed the subject. "Good. Now that we've got that settled, I need to get dressed and call Simon, then we can get to work."

  "When we checked in, I saw a sign in the office that said there is fresh coffee and doughnuts in the lobby until ten o'clock each morning. I'll go get us some."

  He was gone before Eliza could tell him she wasn't hungry, but she couldn't complain. Taking advantage of the privacy, she quickly called Simon.

  "Well, it's about damn time!" he growled the minute he recognized her voice on the other end of the line. "Where the hell are you?"

  "Still looking for my prince," she said sweetly. "I had a few minutes, so I thought I'd call and check in. Did you get the e-mail with my column?"

  She would have sworn she sounded like her usual self, but something in her tone must have given her away. "The column was great," he assured her. "Now tell me about you. What's wrong?"

  "Nothing!"

  "Yeah, right. You might be able to fool that duke you're running around with, but personally, I'm not buying it. What's wrong, Eliza?"

  If he just hadn't called her by her name, she might have been able to shrug off his questions and change the subject. She could handle the Simon who was as rough as a corn cob on the outside. But when he let down his guard and showed his softer, caring side her defenses crumbled every time.

  "It's nothing I can't handle," she said quietly.

  "It's the duke, isn't it?"

  She should have known she couldn't keep anything from him—he'd always been as sharp as a tack—and her silence told him everything he needed to know. "I knew it," he growled. "You fell for him, didn't you?"

  "I did not!"

  She might as well have saved her breath. "Dammit, Red, what were you thinking? He's a duke! A damn blue blood, for God's sake! He probably sleeps on silk sheets and has a butler who lays his clothes out for him every morning!"

  Eliza had to laugh at that. Somehow, she just couldn't see Lorenzo letting anyone pick out his clothes for him. "He's a military hero in Montebello, not some nambypamby duke who has a houseful of servants to cater to his every whim."

  "Oh, that's going to make me sleep better tonight," he retorted sarcastically. "Didn't anyone ever tell you you have to watch the war heroes? They're the worse ones. They go through women like Sherman through Georgia."

  Fighting a tremulous smile, Eliza felt the sting of tears in her eyes and was thankful he couldn't see her—he'd be shocked that she'd turned into such a crybaby. "I'll try to remember that," she said huskily. "But just for the record, I haven't fallen for him."

  "See that you don't," he said gruffly. "He'll break your heart and that'll sour you on the royals, and then what good will you be to me? I need a columnist, dammit, and you're the best one around!"

  Grinning, she wasn't surprised that sentiment gave way to the bottom line—the newspaper. With Simon, every subject always came back to the paper and the next day's edition. "Nothing's going to interfere with my writing, La-Gree, so don't lose any sleep over that. I'll be in touch." She was still chuckling when she hung up.

  * * *

  When Lorenzo returned with coffee and doughnuts, neither of them had much appetite. Making quick work of the abbreviated breakfast, they checked out of the motel ten minutes later and once again, they began the search. And just as Lorenzo had promised himself, he didn't touch her again, let alone kiss her.

  He should have been pleased with himself. But keeping his mind on his work wasn't easy. Every time they stopped to question local residents about strangers coming through town over the course of the past year, he couldn't help but admire her skill in working with people. Damn, she was good! She pulled information out of them they didn't even know they had, learning where abandoned houses and barns were in the area and who the local busybody was who kept track of everyone who passed through town. Every town had one, and Lorenzo wouldn't have even thought to search out such a person. But she did, and even though Mildred Hinkle, the old woman who was the town's biggest gossip, couldn't give them any concrete information they could use, Lorenzo couldn't find the strength to worry that they'd run into another dead end. He couldn't take his eyes off Eliza.

  She had a way of smiling that just turned him inside out. And she wasn't even looking at him! She chatted with old lady Hinkle like they'd known each other all their lives and didn't even seem to know he was in the same room. And he didn't care because he could watch her to his heart's content. Lord, she was beautiful! He only had to look at her to remember the feel of her skin under his hands and mouth....

  Suddenly realizing where his thoughts had wandered, he tried to reel them back in, but he was fighting a losing battle. He couldn't forget last night, couldn't forget wha
t it was like to hold her and kiss her and make love to her until he was too weak to move. He wanted her. More than he had before he'd made love to her. And there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it. He'd promised himself he wouldn't touch her.

  And it was driving him slowly out of his mind.

  How he got through the rest of the day without reaching for her, he never knew. They didn't talk about anything but the prince and where to take the search from there. She made no reference to last night, and unlike him, she appeared to have put it out of her mind completely. She didn't brush up against him, didn't sit too close to him in the truck, didn't give him so much as a single intimate look. And that only made him want her more.

  By the time they stopped for the night and once again found another motel, he didn't know if he wanted to shake her or kiss her. Thankfully, he didn't have a chance to do either. There was no shortage of rooms at the Pine Tree Motel. They wouldn't be sharing a room tonight.

  "You go ahead," he said huskily when she suggested they share a pizza at the pizza parlor across the street. "I'm not really hungry. I was thinking about turning in early."

  Not sure if she was relieved or disappointed that he wouldn't be joining her, Eliza forced a smile. "Then I guess I'll order a small and bring it back to my room so I can work while I eat. If you change your mind, there will be plenty."

  He wasn't going to change his mind and they both knew it, and that was probably for the best, Eliza told herself as she wished him good-night. Everything had changed between them last night. She'd had to fight the need to move closer to him all day, and as she carried her luggage into her room and he headed to his own room six doors down, she couldn't believe how much she already missed him. She wanted to call him back before he shut the door, closing her out for the night, but she did have some pride. If he didn't want to be with her, she certainly wasn't going to push herself on him.

  But as she shut the door to her own room, she'd never been lonelier in her life. The room could have been in any small town in America and had little to recommend it other than cleanliness. But it wouldn't have mattered if it had had a Jacuzzi hot tub and a big screen TV with Surround Sound technology, she still would have had little interest in the place. All she could see was the bed.. .and remember last night.