Royals: For Their Royal Heir: An Heir Fit for a King / The Pregnant Princess / The Prince's Secret Baby (Mills & Boon M&B)

by Abby Green

  They’d even sent over fresh underwear and flat shoes. She felt cossetted and looked after. Dangerous. Because he did this sort of thing with women all the time.

  When they’d been eating breakfast, just a short while before, she’d caught him looking at her intently. ‘What?’ Leila had asked. ‘Have I got something on my face?’

  Without make-up she’d felt bare. Exposed.

  Alix had shaken his head. ‘No. You’re beautiful.’

  And then he’d reached for her hand and she hadn’t been able to look away from him.

  ‘I want to see you again. Today...tonight. Tomorrow.’

  Her heart had stopped, and then started again at twice the pace. ‘But this was just one night...’

  Wasn’t it?

  That was how she’d justified her outrageous behaviour. It had been a moment out of time.

  Alix had looked a little fierce. ‘Is one night enough for you?’

  Trapped in his steely gaze, she’d asked herself if she could do this. Agree to an affair with this man? Have more of him? Yes, a pleading voice had answered.

  Would he even let her go after she’d acquiesced so spectacularly? She knew the answer. Slowly she’d shaken her head. It wasn’t enough for her either. She wanted more—shamelessly.

  Alix’s fingers had tightened around hers. ‘Well, then...’

  And now here she was, hurtling back towards the real world and a liaison she wasn’t sure she knew how to navigate. She heard Alix terminate his call and thought of the dress he’d bought for her to go to the opera, and these new clothes.

  She turned away from the view and found him looking at her. Before she could lose her nerve she said quickly, ‘I don’t want to be your mistress. I appreciate the clothes this morning, but I don’t want you to buy me anything else.’

  He looked at her for a moment, as if he truly couldn’t understand what she was saying, and then he shrugged nonchalantly. ‘Fine.’

  Leila thought of something else and felt the cold hand of panic clutch at her gut. The prospect of press intrusion. Being photographed with Alix. It would inevitably bring scrutiny, and she did not want that under any circumstances.

  She said, ‘We can’t go out in public. I don’t want to end up in the papers. I’m not prepared for that kind of intrusion.’

  Alix straightened, and something flashed across his face—surprise?—before it was masked and Leila thought she might have imagined it.

  ‘I have an entire team at my disposal. I will make sure you’re protected.’

  Leila looked at him. She thought of Ricardo...and of the fact that Alix had been in and out of her shop a few times now and no one seemed to have picked up on it. Maybe it would be okay. Maybe the skeletons in her closet wouldn’t jump out to bite her.

  She forced a smile. ‘Okay.’

  CHAPTER SIX

  ‘EARTH TO ALIX...HELLO? Anyone home?’

  Alix blinked and looked at his friend and chief advisor, Andres, who had flown in from Isle Saint Croix to meet him. Andres was Alix’s secret weapon. Devoutly loyal to getting Alix back on the throne, he was also working as a spy, of sorts, in the current regime in Isle Saint Croix. He was the reason Alix was going to get reinstated as King.

  ‘Have you heard a word I’ve said?’

  Alix knew he hadn’t. His head had been consumed with soft silky skin. Long dark hair. Huge green eyes like jewels. Soft gasps and moans. The heady rush of pleasure when he— Damn. He jerked up out of his chair. This was ridiculous.

  Leila was like a fever in his blood. He couldn’t concentrate.

  He went and stood at the window, and then after a few seconds turned back to his friend and said, ‘I’ve met someone new.’

  Andres made a small whistling sound, his boyishly handsome face cracking into a wry grin. ‘I know you move fast, Alix, but this is your fastest ever. Usually you leave at least a week between switching partners. This is good, though—when will we see pictures hit the press?’

  Alix folded his arms and scowled at his friend’s exaggeration. And then he thought of what Leila had said about wanting to avoid press intrusion. And, as much as he needed it right now, suddenly the thought of paparazzi hounding her was very unpalatable. It made him feel almost...protective.

  There had to be a solution. His brain seized on an idea and it took root. And the more it did so, the more seductive it became.

  ‘Our supporters on the ground are aware that we are conducting a campaign of misdirection, aren’t they?’

  Andres nodded. ‘Absolutely. They know that you’re primed and ready to return, no matter what the press says.’

  ‘Then if I was to leave and go to my island in the Caribbean for ten days it could only work in our favour?’

  Andres huffed out a breath. ‘Well, sure... I mean, you’re just as contactable there as here... And if there are photos emerging of you frolicking in the sun with some leggy beauty the opposition will be taken completely by surprise when we pull the rug right out from underneath them.’

  Alix smiled, sweet anticipation flooding his blood. ‘My thoughts exactly.’

  Andres frowned. ‘But, Alix, you do know that your island is totally impenetrable by the outside world? No paparazzi have ever caught you there. It’s too far—too remote.’

  Alix’s smile faded as he got serious. ‘Which is why you’re going to arrange for one of my most trustworthy staff on the island to take long-range grainy photos—I’ll let you know when is a good time. Enough to identify me, but not Leila. He can email them to you, and you can send them out to whoever you think should get them for maximum beneficial exposure. I want this controlled.’

  Alix felt only the smallest pang of his conscience and told himself he’d still be protecting her identity.

  Andres’s eyes gleamed with unmistakable interest at the lengths his friend was willing to go to for a woman, but Alix cut him off before he could say anything.

  ‘I don’t want to discuss her, Andres, just set it up. We’ll fly out tomorrow.’

  * * *

  ‘You want to take me where?’

  The blinds were down in Leila’s shop and she’d just closed up for the evening when Alix had appeared, causing a seismic physical response. She hadn’t heard from him since that morning, when they’d arrived back from Venice, and she didn’t like to admit the way her nerves had stretched tighter and tighter over the day, as she’d wondered if she’d hear from him again. In spite of what he’d said.

  And now he was here, and he’d just said—

  ‘I have an island in the Caribbean. It’s private...secluded. I’ve cleared my schedule for the next ten days—I need to take a break. I want you to come with me, Leila. I want to explore this with you...what’s going on between us.’

  Leila felt sideswiped, bewildered, along with an illicit flutter of excitement. ‘But...I can’t just leave! Who’ll look after my shop and business? The last thing I can afford now is to close up.’

  Smoothly Alix said, ‘I can hire someone to manage the shop in your absence. They won’t have your knowledge, obviously, but they’ll be able to cover basic sales till you get back.’

  Leila opened her mouth to protest, but the truth was she wasn’t really in a position to take orders for new perfumes until she found some factory space, so all she was doing in essence was selling what they had. She could mix perfumes on a very small scale, which was what she’d done for Alix. So she was dispensable.

  Weakly, she protested. ‘But we’ve only spent one night together. I can’t just take off like this.’

  Alix raised a brow. ‘Can’t you? What’s stopping you?’

  Leila felt irritation rise. ‘Not everyone lives in a world where you can just take off to the other side of the earth on a whim. Some of us have to think of the consequences.’ But right then Leila knew she wasn’t thinking of financial or economic consequences—she was thinking of more emotional ones. Already.

  Then Alix did the one thing guaranteed to scramble her brain c
ompletely. He came close and slid his hand around the back of her neck, under her hair, and tugged her towards him.

  He said softly, ‘I’ll show you the consequences.’

  His scent reached her brain before she even registered the effect it was having on her. Her blood started fizzing, and between her legs she was still tender but she could feel herself growing damp.

  An acute physical reaction to desire. To this man.

  Hunger, ravenous and scary, whipped through her so fast she couldn’t control it. And when Alix lowered his mouth to hers she was already lost. Already saying yes, throwing caution to the wind. Because the truth was that dealing with him in this environment was scarier—so maybe going to the other side of the world would keep them in fantasy land. And when it was over she’d come back to normality. Whatever normal was...

  When the kiss ended they were both breathing heavily, and Leila was pressed between the counter and Alix’s very hard body. They looked at each other.

  Shakily, Leila said, ‘This is just... It won’t last.’ She didn’t even frame it as a question.

  Something infinitely hard came into Alix’s eyes and he shook his head. He almost looked sad for a moment. ‘No, it never lasts.’

  Leila drew in a slightly shaky breath. One more step over the line couldn’t hurt, could it? She was doing this with her eyes wide open. No illusions. No falling in love. She was not her innocent, naive mother.

  ‘Okay, I’ll come with you.’

  Alix just smiled.

  * * *

  ‘There it is—just down there.’

  Leila looked, and couldn’t quite believe her eyes. She’d never seen such vivid colours. Lush green and pale white sand, clear azure water. Palm trees. It was like the manifestation of a dream she wasn’t even aware she’d had.

  She couldn’t actually speak. She was dumbfounded. This was the last in a series of flights that had taken them from Paris to Nassau and now in a smaller plane to Alix’s private island, which was called Isle de la Paix—Island of Peace.

  And it looked peaceful from up here. They were circling lower now, and Leila could see a beautiful colonial-style house, and manicured grounds leading down to a long sliver of beach where foamy waves lapped the pristine shore.

  She was glad she’d agreed to come here—because she knew this experience would help her to keep Alix in some fantasy place once their affair was over.

  They landed, bouncing gently over a strip cut into the grass in a large open, flat area. Leila could see a couple of staff waiting outside and an open-top Jeep.

  When they left the plane the warmth hit Leila like a hot oven opening in her face. It was humid—and delicious. She could already feel the effects sinking through her skin to her bones, making them more fluid, less tense.

  The smiling staff greeted them with lilting voices and took their bags into a van. Alix led Leila over to the Jeep, taking her by the hand. When he’d buckled her in, and climbed in at the other side, he looked at her and grinned.

  Leila grinned back, her heart light. He suddenly looked more carefree than she’d ever seen him, and she realised that he’d always looked slightly stern. Even when relaxed. But not here.

  ‘Would you like a brief tour of the island, madam?’

  ‘That would be lovely,’ Leila responded with another grin.

  They took off, and Alix drove them along dirt tracks through the lush forest that skirted along the most beautiful beaches she’d ever seen. The sun hit them and the Jeep with dappled rainbows of light, bathing them in warmth. Leila tipped her head back and closed her eyes, revelling in the sensation.

  When the Jeep came to a stop she opened her eyes again and saw that they were on the edge of a small, perfect beach.

  Leila leant forward. The smell of the sea was heady, along with the sharper tang of vegetation and dry earth. She itched to analyse the scents but the view competed. It was sensory overload. And the most perfectly hued clear seawater she’d ever seen lapped the shore just yards away.

  Alix jumped out of the Jeep and came around, expertly unbuckling her belt and lifting her out before she could object, strong arms under her legs and back. He walked them down to the beach. It was late afternoon, and still hot, but the intense heat of the sun had diminished.

  He put her down and looked at her, raising a brow. ‘Have you ever skinny-dipped?’

  Leila’s mouth opened and she blustered, ‘No, I certainly have not!’ even as she felt a very illicit tingle of rebellion.

  Alix was already pulling off his clothes. He’d changed on the plane before they’d got to Nassau, into a polo shirt and casual trousers. Leila gaped as his body was revealed, piece by mouthwatering piece.

  She’d only seen him naked in the dimly lit confines of the Venetian palazzo, and now he stood before her, lit by the glorious sun against a paradise backdrop.

  He was stunning. Not an ounce of fat. Hewn from rock. Pure olive-skinned muscular beauty. And one muscle in particular was twitching under her rapt gaze.

  Leila’s cheeks flamed and she dragged her gaze up. She sounded strangled. ‘I can’t—we can’t! What if someone comes along?’ She glanced behind her into the trees.

  But then Alix was in front of her, his hand turning her chin back to him. She looked at him helplessly and he said, ‘Listen. Just listen.’

  Leila did—and heard nothing. Not one sound that didn’t come directly from the island itself. No sirens or traffic or voices. Just the breeze and the trees and birds, and the water lapping near their feet.

  ‘It’s just us, Leila. Apart from a handful of staff at the house, we’re completely alone.’

  A sense of freedom such as she’d never felt before made her chest swell and lightness pervade her body. She felt young and carefree. It was heady.

  ‘Now, are you coming into the water willingly? Or do I have to throw you in fully clothed?’

  Leila started to shrug off her jacket, and said, mock petulantly, ‘Fine, Your Majesty.’

  Alix watched her, stark naked and completely blasé. ‘That’s more like it.’

  His eyes got darker as Leila self-consciously took off her shirt and trousers, very aware of their chain-store dullness.

  When she was in her bra and pants she hesitated, and Alix growled softly, ‘Keep going.’

  Leila fought back the memory of that other woman and reached behind her to undo her bra, letting it fall forward and off. The bare skin of her breasts prickled and her nipples tightened. Avoiding Alix’s gaze now, she pulled down her pants with an economic movement, stepping out of them and laying them neatly on her pile of clothes.

  She was naked on a beach, in a tropical paradise with an equally naked man. The reality was too much to take in, so with a whoop of disbelief and sheer joy Leila ran for the sea, feeling the warm, salty water embrace her. And then she dived deep under an oncoming wave before she exploded into pieces completely.

  * * *

  Leila wandered through Alix’s house dressed in nothing but one of his oversized T-shirts, her hair in a tangled knot on top of her head. She’d never been so consistently undressed in her life, and after her initial self-consciousness she’d realised to her shock that she was something of a sensualist, relishing the freedom. Much as she’d exulted in the feel of her naked body in the sea on that first day.

  Since they’d arrived at his house after skinny-dipping three days before, damp and salty from the sea, they’d barely left his bedroom. He’d retrieved food from the kitchen at intermittent intervals, and they’d gorged on each other in a feast of the senses. Leila’s inexperience was fast becoming a thing of the past under Alix’s expert tutelage.

  When Leila had woken a short time before it had been the first time Alix hadn’t been in bed beside her, or in the shower, or bringing food back to the bedroom. So she’d come to find him.

  And now she was taking in the splendour of his house properly for the first time. It was luxurious without being ostentatious. Mostly in tones of soothing off-white and
grey. Muslin drapes billowed in the soft island breeze through open windows. It truly was paradise, and Leila felt a pang that her mother was gone and couldn’t experience this.

  Little objets d’art were dotted here and there—tastefully. Leila stopped before a small portrait that hung in the main foyer area and her jaw dropped when she realised she must be looking at an original Picasso.

  A soft sound from nearby made Leila whirl around, and her face flamed when she saw an attractive middle-aged, casually dressed woman looking at her with a warm smile on her face.

  The woman put out a hand. ‘Sorry to startle you, Miss Verughese. I was wondering if you’d like some lunch? I’m Matilde—Alix’s roving housekeeper.’

  She had an American accent. Leila forced an embarrassed smile. She hadn’t seen any staff yet. She gestured to her clothes—or lack of them. ‘Sorry, I was just looking for Mr Saint—that is... Alix.’

  Matilde smiled wider. ‘Don’t worry, honey, that’s what this island is all about—relaxation. You’ll find Alix in his study, just down the hall. Why don’t I prepare a nice lunch for you both on the terrace? It’ll be ready in about half an hour.’

  Leila smiled back at the woman, who was clearly friendly enough with Alix to be on first-name terms. ‘Please call me Leila—and that sounds lovely.’

  The woman was turning away, and then she turned back suddenly and said, sotto voce to Leila, ‘You know, he’s never brought a woman here before.’

  And then, with a wink, she was disappearing down the corridor, leaving Leila with a belly full of butterflies. She hated it that it made her so happy to know this wasn’t routine for him.

  Leila wandered down the hall, with its gleaming polished wooden floors. She heard a low, deep voice and followed it into a room to see Alix, bare-chested, sitting at a desk with a laptop open before him. He was on the phone. And he was frowning.

  The room was as beautiful as the rest of the house, with floor-to-ceiling shelves filled with books. Books that looked well used.

  He looked up and saw her, and some indecipherable expression crossed his face before he said something Leila couldn’t hear and put down the phone. He closed his laptop.