Every one of her senses was as sharp as a pin and yet the moment was dreamlike. Even the erratic rhythm of his breathing seemed in perfect tandem to the thrash of her own heart.
Thane crushed her to him, cradling her, still embedded deep, his strong, muscular body shaking, his face buried in her neck. ‘Dios, Luciana. You feel so snug. So incredible…’
As if being inside her, reuniting their exquisite connection, had doused some of the urgency, deeper emotion now flooded the space between them, and Thane lifted his head and tenderly brushed her damp hair from her face, kissed her cheeks, her nose, her brow. So lovingly, so affectionately, that her heart splintered.
Too much, Luce, this is all too much. Back off or you won’t survive this. Him.
No. She couldn’t let go. Not yet.
His touch sculpted her behind, hooked around her thigh and urged it to curl over his hip as his pelvis locked with hers.
‘That’s it, angel, now let me watch you.’
He ground against her, watching, as if taking in every nuance of her feverish response, and when he hit her sweet spot she shivered and cried out, gripping his hair. He exploited it, rolling his hips, pushing his iron-hard length deep inside her, thrusting over and over until she was mindless, begging, delirious beneath him.
‘Thane…’
Bliss opened up before her, fathoms deep, a chasm that would take her—body and soul. For one shimmering, breathless moment she teetered on the brink…and then she was falling, falling, tumbling, crashing as she hurtled towards ecstasy.
Thane picked up the pace, slamming into her, chasing his own nirvana, until he stiffened with a guttural cry of release, pouring himself inside her, racked with convulsions that left him weak and heavy in her arms. Trembling with the aftershocks like tiny flashes of lightning as the storm dissipated. And she loved it. Revelled in his weight, in his ragged breath whispering over the sensitive skin beneath her ear, his pounding heart against hers.
When lucidity fully returned she realised silent tears were tracking down the sides of her face. She saw again the Rhine Falls of Zurich—a stoic, bittersweet witness to her fragile joy. Because it didn’t matter how tightly Thane wrapped her in his arms, as if she was all he’d ever wanted. As if she truly were his angel and they basked in the heavens. Because come the dawn all hell would break loose.
* * *
Luciana wrapped herself in a robe––the black silk her only armour and sat at the base of the bed, leaning against the carved footboard, watching the morning sun dapple over the hard contours of the man who lay sleeping, naked, on his stomach.
He was a study in masculine perfection. So beautiful. His face reminded her with exquisite poignancy of Natanael. And for the first time she didn’t look at him and feel fear or trepidation or anger or dismay. She looked at him with one crystal-clear thought. Or rather she allowed herself to.
This was the man who had given her the son she loved so much. This was the man who’d helped to create a miracle of joy and wonder and beauty.
This man was the father of her child. The very man she’d fallen in love with so long ago. And she could not, would not keep their son from that man a moment longer. No more than she could keep Thane from Natanael.
And that man would not cast her out or take Nate from her. He would protect them both always. Even through his anger and rage. And, darn it, she would be strong through this. As lion-hearted and courageous as he was.
Satin shifted across the sumptuous mattress as he stretched and smouldered in all his abeyant heat. Her gaze locked on the muscles in his back, on the flex and bunch of his ruthless power.
Luciana fisted the folds of the robe at her neck, ordering herself not to reach out. To touch. Become lost in him all over again.
He prised his eyes open and smiled sleepily at her. Lord, it hurt.
‘Come back up here, Luce. Let me hold you.’
She inhaled a lungful of fortifying air.
Come on, you can do this.
‘I…I can’t, Thane. I have to go home today. I have to go back to Arunthia and I need you to take me—like you promised.’
He sat up in one lithe rippling movement, like a panther uncurling, and pushed his tousled air back from his forehead. ‘No, Luciana, don’t say that.’ His husky, lethargic voice grew stronger, firmer. ‘You belong here with me. There’s no reason for you to go back.’
Luciana swallowed around the searing burn in her throat. ‘But there is, Thane. Someone is there that I can’t leave. Ever.’
His expression darkened and she felt a frisson of fear. Flinched when he suddenly ripped the sheet from his body, vaulted from the bed and shoved his legs into a pair of black silk lounge trousers.
Hands on his hips, he spun on her. ‘You love this person?’
‘Yes,’ she said, her voice cracking under pressure. ‘I love him more than life itself.’
His eyes grew furious, dark as rain-laden thunderclouds. And she knew it was only going to get worse. This, she realised, was merely the beginning. God help her.
‘Who do you love?’ he demanded.
You can do this, Luciana. For him—for Natanael. Thane will rip your heart from your chest but this is not about you. It is about the little boy you love and his father. You are doing it for them. They deserve this from you. Do it. Do it.
‘Please don’t hate me, Thane,’ she whispered, begging him. ‘I was only trying to do the right thing. I was scared. I only wanted him to be safe—’
His beauty took on a terrifying, dangerous edge. ‘Who, Luciana?’ He flung his arms wide. ‘Who do you love?’
‘Your son. Our son.’
CHAPTER TEN
THANE’S PULSE ROCKETED and the room took an untimely spin, making his breath whoosh past his lips in a sickening rush.
‘You…you had my child? I have a son?’
He couldn’t have heard her correctly, he assured himself. But her beautiful brandy eyes filled to the brim and one drop escaped, glistened as it fell. Shimmered over her pink-washed cheeks, along the side of her nose and down to the corner of her full mouth.
A mouth that whispered, ‘Yes…’
Thane shook his head jerkily. No. He could not be hearing her right. He would know. If he had a son he would know. Yet her words wouldn’t stop ricocheting around his mind.
‘You were pregnant?’
‘Yes.’
‘How?’ he asked stupidly, feeling adrift and as vulnerable as the boy he’d once been. Trembling inside, feeling weak. He loathed it.
Luciana blinked, her brow pinching, her voice so small she appeared just as lost as he. ‘Do you mean which time? I was on contraceptives, so I don’t know. There were…’
So many times? Yes, there had been.
And they had made a baby. Together. His child. His son.
Then—then it hit. Like a bullet ripping through his chest. And it tore his world apart.
He jabbed his fingers through his hair and fisted the silky strands. ‘How does no one know my son exists, Luciana? How do I not know my son exists?’
‘I fought to have him. I went away to have him. I—’
Acid flushed through his stomach and surged up to his throat. ‘Ah, so he is your dirty little secret? My son. With Galancian blue blood. The man who will take my throne. He is your dirty little secret?’
Affront clawed inside his chest with merciless razor-sharp talons and he slammed his hand over his bare ribs to rub, to try and ease the gashes of pain tearing through him.
With an unsteady hand she reached out imploringly. ‘I made a pact to have him. To keep him. I went to Hong Kong, where we were safe…’
‘Safe? You kept his identity secret to keep him safe? Safe from who?’ he hollered.
He didn’t understand this. Any of it.
A sob racked her frame and she covered her mouth with one hand, fingers quivering over her lips. Lips bruised red and swollen from his kisses.
Dios, he had just made love to a deceitful, dishonoura
ble bitch. He had just been embedded inside a liar and a thief. The woman who had stolen his son. Who did such a thing?
She’s an Arunthian, Thane, what did you expect?
His brain was working so fast his thoughts tripped over themselves before he could even process the last.
‘No one ever asked? Suspected?’ he asked, dark incredulity pouring from his tone.
Sitting at the base of the bed, she bent her knees and wrapped her arms around them, curling that incredible hateful body into a defensive ball.
‘No. We had a nanny—Crista—who has a son of her own. Very few other staff. I wanted him to have a normal childhood. A free life without the constraints of the crown. Without being suffocated by duty—’
Thane flung his arms wide. ‘Yet you take away his rights as a born royal! Why didn’t you tell me? Were you ever going to tell me I had a son?’
Dios, he had a son. Maybe if he kept repeating the words it would sink in.
‘I tried. So many times. I wrote letters—so many. I burned them. We didn’t really know each other, Thane—you didn’t even know my true identity.’
With the tips of her fingers she rubbed the moisture from the tender skin beneath her eyes and took a deep breath.
‘Our countries are enemies—you know this. Only yesterday you admitted you almost assassinated my father. He knew, Thane. He knew it was you. I was so scared. And the rumours, the horrors I’d heard of this place—they chilled me. Your childhood…’ She rocked a little, as if the mere thought of his youth pained her. ‘The fact that you’re staunch militia…raised for war, for fighting. I couldn’t bear the thought of him being raised like that. Getting hurt. I still can’t.’
She looked up at him through the veil of her lashes, those huge eyes pleading. Thane had to stiffen himself against their power.
‘Please try to understand. I didn’t even know you and your uncle were divided. I just—’
‘Stop. Just stop.’
He couldn’t abide her voice any more. Because it was becoming increasingly clear that the person she’d been trying to protect their son from was him. The only woman he’d ever let past his shields, the only woman he’d wanted to live his life with, thought him so monstrous that she’d feared for their son’s life. And that almost killed him right where he stood.
‘I cannot bear to hear your excuses any longer. Where is he? Where is my son?’
‘At…at home—’
He sliced her off with a razored slash of his hand through the air. ‘No, Luciana. He is not at home. His home is here—with me.’
Unable even to look at her, he pulled on his T-shirt and bounded out onto the deck. Oblivious to where he was going. Blind to what he was doing.
He felt vile. That ever-present blackness was rising like a demonic tide inside him, swirling like a toxic storm. He despised it. Despised her for causing it. Would do anything to stop feeling—anything. And she’d done that too. Torn down the walls that had barricaded his emotions, leaving him defenceless, only to stab him in the back.
He brought his hand up in front of his face, watched his flesh tremble and gritted his teeth as he balled it savagely until his knuckles and wrist cracked and his strength began to return. Until his heart was black and his blood ran cold. Then he spun on his heels to stride across the patio.
‘Thane, wait. Where are you going?’
That was one thing he did know.
‘To get my son.’
A flash of memory arrowed through his mind and he crashed to a halt. Turned with lethal calm to see her climb from the bed and stand tall on those amazing legs—such works of art. He’d had them wrapped around his waist as he’d taken her against the shower wall, not two hours ago, and it sickened him.
‘The photograph I saw. Of you pushing a young boy on a swing. In a park. When you were in China. He had ebony hair just like mine…’
Dios, he’d been staring at a picture of his own son.
She frowned and her flawless skin went impossibly paler. ‘Photograph?’
‘Si. I pulled files on you back in Courchevel. I saw him and I didn’t even think he could be mine. Didn’t even think you would be capable of such a heinous crime.’
His tone was getting louder and louder and he couldn’t seem to stop it.
‘I brought you here from the Alps—where you were…what? Vacationing? Having fun, were you, Luciana?’ He felt as if the blood rushed downwards from his head and there was a roaring in his ears. ‘Dios, no! You were with that sleazy bastard Augustus. Does he know about my son?’
‘No—no, Thane. He doesn’t know. No one does.’
‘Si. Well, this is fortunate for you both. Still, you didn’t even tell me you’d left my son behind in Arunthia. I brought you here and you left him there in that…that place.’
He was drowning in an ocean of pain. Betrayal.
‘I’m sorry but, Thane, I didn’t know what to expect from you. You practically abducted me in broad daylight, for heaven’s sake!’
What did that have to do with anything? Anyway… ‘It’s a damn good job I did. Otherwise my child would’ve been lost to me for eternity. Two days you’ve been here. Not once did you say a word.’
‘I…I’m telling you now—’
‘Ah, yes. So you are. Did I pass your rigorous testing, Luciana? Am I good enough to be in my son’s life now? My son… My son! My own flesh and blood and he doesn’t even know me.’ Something was tearing apart in his chest. ‘Well, he will soon enough.’
‘You can’t go and get him. How will you get past my father? I don’t want any fighting or trouble, Thane.’
He jabbed a menacing finger in her direction. ‘On your head be it.’
With that, he surged across the limestone patio, rubbing his face with his hands.
Within seconds Luciana had gripped his arm, was pulling him round to face her.
‘No, Thane. Where my son is concerned you will listen to me.’
There was a fierce light in her eyes. As if she had some voracious maternal instinct.
Cynicism curled his lip. This woman? Who’d denied her son his father for more than four years? Thane’s father had been a brutally fierce man, but when Thane had asked for him he’d come. Just as Thane should have been given the chance to be there for his son. But, no, he’d had that opportunity stolen from him.
‘Do you honestly want your introduction to Natanael to be throwing punches or behind prison bars? He isn’t like you, Thane. He’s not big and tough, resilient and strong. He’s small and kind and loving and beautiful, and he’s only four years old. Please. Let me go and get him. Bring him here.’
Thane wrenched his arm out of her grasp. ‘Let you go and not return? Disappear off the face of the earth? With my son? Again? I think not, Luciana. To suggest it just shows how much of a fool you think I am.’
‘Then let me ask Lucas to bring him.’
‘Lucas Garcia?’ he said disgustedly. ‘Are you mad?’
‘Natanael loves him and Claudia—they’re his family. He’s with them right now.’
The sharp teeth of anger bit into his heart. ‘I am his family.’
Her eyes closed momentarily. Those long lashes were coated with crystals and it vexed him that he was still noticing such things about her. Vexed him beyond belief.
‘Just…please let us make this as easy on Natanael as possible. I don’t want him scared. Let him come here on your turf and meet you properly. Peacefully. Please, Thane.’
He hauled in air, trying to think through the clattering maelstrom. The last thing he wanted to do was frighten his son; the boy didn’t even know him. But he didn’t trust Luciana to come back. He didn’t trust her at all. Never would again.
Furious that she’d pushed him into a corner, he bit out, ‘I will give Lucas Garcia three hours. Then I will go for my son myself and to hell with your father. I will get past him if I have to crush Arunthe Palace into the ground.’
She curled her quivering hand around the base of her thr
oat. ‘They’ll be here.’
When she glanced up at him, with those brandy tarns full of anguish, for a moment he felt himself falling under her spell. So bewitching. Making him blind to anything but her…
Not any longer.
Thane forced himself to deflect her considerable charms. She’d lured him in for the last time.
‘They’d better be here,’ he incised. ‘I’ll never forgive you for this, Luciana. Four years I have missed of him. And if you think I am missing one more day you are grossly mistaken. When he steps foot on Galancia he is here to stay—and so are you. You will not leave here. Neither of you will. We will marry without delay and he will be acknowledged if it is the last thing I do on this earth. And that I promise you.’
CHAPTER ELEVEN
LUCIANA STOOD IN FRONT of the double porcelain basin in the sumptuous marble bathroom suite and flipped on the faucet. Cupping her hands beneath the flow, she watched the icy clear liquid pool and then splashed it over her face, dabbing the tender puffy skin beneath her eyes.
Keep it together, Luce. You’ll get through this.
She plucked an oyster hand-towel from the rail and patted her face dry, daring to peek at her reflection in the mirror. Lord, she still looked ghastly. And the black jeggings and white shirt she’d chosen to wear didn’t help a jot. Not that she cared for her appearance—she just didn’t want Lucas to latch on to her wretched state or he wouldn’t leave. Didn’t want Natanael to pick up on her mood either. This would be hard enough on him as it was.
Insides shaking, she gingerly walked back through to the bedroom…and, darn it, just the sight of those rumpled sheets and the lingering scent of their passion brought the wave of misery rushing back—so tall and wide it flooded over her in a great gush and she couldn’t stand up in it. Couldn’t even seem to breathe through it.
Crumpling to the bed, she tried her damnedest not to break. Not to splinter apart. She had to stay strong, because the next few days would be hard enough. Days? Try weeks. Try a lifetime.
Her conversation with Lucas played back in her mind.
‘Please, Lucas, you’re the only person I trust to get past my father and do as I ask. Thane knows. If you don’t bring him I don’t know what he’ll do.’
To Claim His Heir by Christmas Page 12