The King's Captive Virgin

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The King's Captive Virgin Page 12

by Natalie Anderson


  So she forced back her embarrassment and bent her head oh-so-meekly. ‘Certainly, King Giorgos,’ she acquiesced breathily as she turned slowly. ‘She buffed my skin,’ she added in a soft whisper over her shoulder. ‘All over. So I’ve not a hair out of place. I guess I’m polished enough for you to be seen with now.’

  ‘Vixen,’ he accused huskily. ‘You enjoyed it.’

  She shrugged and studied her highly polished fingernails. ‘I’ve had harder mornings.’

  ‘And you’re enjoying my reaction to the result.’ He cocked his head, a rueful light entering his eyes. ‘Everyone will look—are you sure you want their eyes on you?’

  ‘They’ll look anyway eventually—when I come out of hiding. At least if I’m with you they’ll keep their distance.’

  ‘There might be speculation, but I believe I can offset that.’

  Her pulse raced too quickly at his appraisal. ‘Speculation about what?’

  That smile returned—the rare, all too wicked one, full of carnal intent. The one that made all her senses dizzy.

  ‘How do you offset it?’ she asked unsteadily.

  ‘I play up the protective angle. Apparently I’m good at that.’

  ‘Too good,’ she answered tartly. ‘And I don’t get to offset it at all?’

  ‘I won’t let them come after you,’ he muttered, almost as if he were convincing himself.

  ‘Of course they’ll come after me—at least for a bit,’ she scoffed. ‘The dress doesn’t matter. I’m not from the right side of the tracks or the right layer of society... They’ll talk about my mother—’

  ‘What will they say about her?’

  She paused. ‘That she was John Gale’s mistress for twenty years. A shameless temptress who never truly succeeded in stealing the man she wanted.’

  ‘Why did she wait for him for so long?’

  ‘Because she was weak.’ Kassie shrugged sadly. ‘You should have seen her when he told her he was coming for one of his visits. She’d dance around, she’d dress up... And then he’d come, and he’d swing me around for a moment, and then they’d disappear to her room.’ She frowned, remembering the loneliness that she’d felt then. ‘There was no real relationship between them. No romance. There was him turning up to take her to bed and then her bottoming out when he left again.’

  Her mother’s mood swings had been wretched. But then she’d rally and they’d go on happily together—until her father called again.

  ‘She always waited, believing in him, never moving forward. She always welcomed him back despite that disappointment time and time again.’ She’d never understood why.

  ‘You’re angry with her?’

  ‘Because she didn’t fight for what she wanted. Because when she got sick she didn’t fight that either.’ She had been so passive, accepting so little. Kassie was never going to do that.

  ‘So are you going to fight for what you want?’

  ‘Don’t I already?’ She lifted her head. ‘Aren’t I doing exactly that now? I know what I want—from my job, from you and from this one performance in front of the world now. This is on my terms, Giorgos.’

  ‘Good for you,’ he said, glancing away from her. ‘Hopefully they won’t delve all that deeply into your background. It’s not uncommon to be illegitimate now. Or to have been raised by a solo parent. That stigma has eased.’

  Maybe for normal people—but Eleni and Giorgos weren’t anywhere near normal...they were royalty.

  ‘Yet times haven’t changed enough for our King to consort with a commoner?’ She smiled at him sweetly. ‘He still has to find himself a princess.’

  ‘Some things just can’t be changed.’ He shrugged.

  ‘And you don’t want to change them,’ she challenged softly. ‘You’ve kept everything the same since your father died. So full of tradition you hardly consider your future.’

  ‘Because it is important to honour our forefathers,’ he said, stiffening.

  She paused, realising she’d touched a wound. ‘You must have loved him very much.’

  ‘I only wish I had told him so when he was alive.’

  ‘How old—?’

  ‘Seventeen. I was seventeen when he died.’ He pre-empted her question sharply. ‘Seventeen and stupid.’ He turned away from her. ‘We need to leave.’

  * * *

  Giorgos hadn’t made such a massive mistake in a long, long time. Allowing himself to get side-tracked by something personal... Allowing himself to think he could have a moment of fun alongside the execution of his duty... What had he been thinking?

  He hadn’t, of course.

  Bringing her with him had been total madness, because he couldn’t concentrate for looking at her. In that simple white dress, with its perfectly demure neck and hemline, she was the epitome of sensuality. No gilded artifice required. Her hair had been left loose—it hung in a glorious, glossy swathe down her back—and her make-up appeared minimal. Her lips were not coloured, but their natural rose-pink had been intensified somehow, and her skin was flawless and glowing.

  All he wanted to do was kiss her. He shouldn’t think about the traditional significance of the colour of her dress, but he was too sharply aware of her innocence and inexperience...her sweetly sultry desire for his touch. The primal pleasure he got from knowing it was only he who’d touched her—who had aroused that begging, writhing wanton—set his teeth on edge.

  He ached to return to the Summer House so he could slowly strip her bare. He’d waited long enough. Teased her enough. She was ready and he was too far gone to care about the risk any more. He just wanted her. Now.

  Thank heavens he’d retained enough nous to ensure that this public appearance would be a brief one—a quick stop to unveil a new sculpture in the garden of a nearby gallery. He’d say a few words, drop the curtain on the marble, smile and leave. She’d be on show for thirty minutes or less, if he could manage it. He just had to manage his own mind. His own emotions. His own damn body.

  He was utterly, painfully conscious of her walking beside him into the gallery’s garden. She was staggeringly beautiful. He saw eyes widening and jaws dropping as they passed the gathered guests. There were more people lining the street than usual. Of course there were—they wanted to see how things stood since Eleni’s marriage announcement. The curiosity in the crowd flared—murmurs, questioning tones lifted as they stared in fascination at the exquisite woman accompanying him.

  He shouldn’t have brought her. He shouldn’t have used her in this way. He should have kept her hidden. His.

  She was silent as she walked. Shy. His hand itched. He longed to take her hand in his—to shield her from the intense interest of the invited dignitaries and members of the public. But he couldn’t—he’d embarked on this selfish plan and it was too late to turn back. He was careful not to touch her, hardly to look at her. Not to give the wrong impression or let anyone suspect how desperately he wanted to declare his possession of her.

  The urge to reach out for her was so intense it sent him off balance. Distracted, he could hardly focus on the short speech he’d prepared. He couldn’t stall them the way he’d intended to. His mind blanked—because all he could think of was her. In the end he was forced to admit the discomfort of this situation as he introduced her to the waiting media and the world.

  ‘Ms Marron needed some space away from the scrutiny of the press currently camped outside her home,’ he announced through gritted teeth, making them aware of his displeasure at her treatment. ‘That is why she is my guest for a couple of days. She’s a private citizen and must not be hounded. Naturally she is delighted for her brother and Princess Eleni, but I insist that you respect her privacy. We welcome all of Damon’s relatives into our family. Any questions must be directed to me.’

  ‘Where’s Prince Xander?’ a reporter queried.

  ‘Prince Xander has returned h
ome.’ Giorgos fought to keep his message on track. ‘He is a gentleman, and I must stress that all blame for Eleni’s earlier heartache lies squarely at my feet. However, she has forgiven me, and we now move forward together as a family.’

  Eleni hadn’t wanted him to be labelled a bully. But he knew he deserved the discomfort of this grilling—and that he shouldn’t have dragged Kassie into it. He was acutely aware of her standing beside him now, quiet and beautiful, and he just knew she was expecting him to deliver. He damn well would.

  ‘Where is the Princess now?’ another reporter asked. ‘When will we meet Damon?’

  ‘Princess Eleni and Mr Gale have gone away for the privacy they need at this special time. I may not always show it, but I do understand that they are in love.’

  Something rough tickled his throat and it tightened, making speaking even harder. He glanced briefly at Kassie and caught her beautiful, genuine smile at him. He forced his eyes front again, an unnamed emotion firing through his blood.

  ‘Rightly or wrongly, I have always tried to protect my sister and I am very pleased she has found happiness. It is...’ He cleared his throat awkwardly, wishing like hell he’d cancelled this appearance, because this was one truth he was suddenly compelled to admit to the world and it was hard. ‘It is all I have ever wanted for her.’

  * * *

  Kassie dragged her gaze from Giorgos and looked over the crowd in front of them. For a moment there was complete silence, and then a wave of audible support spread—culminating in a huge cheer. This close, Kassie could hear the individual murmurings of the shiny-eyed, smiling women.

  ‘He’s so handsome...’

  ‘He’s so protective of Eleni...’

  ‘What a brother...’

  For the first time that she could ever recall he’d come across as all ‘Giorgos’ and not pure ‘King’—a hurt, caring man, not a dignified, remote figurehead. And she was just as touched as everyone else present.

  She quickly glanced down, hoping to hide her burgeoning emotions and the deepening fascination she had in him.

  A few moments later he unveiled the sculpture to more applause. The rest of the visit passed in a blur of smiling faces and respectful distance. But she was conscious of intense scrutiny. So many people were watching her, listening, judging. But she didn’t care what they thought of her—she just wanted to ensure their support of their King.

  She didn’t want to let him down, so she quietly expressed her gratitude to both King Giorgos and Princess Eleni whenever she was asked for a comment. And then it was all over. One of Giorgos’s assistants escorted her to the car. Then Giorgos himself settled in beside her. There was no word from him, no shared look or laugh, and certainly no touch. Fine by her. Their intimacy was her secret to treasure. Her choice.

  But even as they drove away from the crowds his distance didn’t lessen. If anything, he seemed to become more remote. He sat silent, unsmiling and stiff, staring out of the window away from her. She couldn’t think why his frown had returned when everyone there had looked happy. She’d heard the bubbling chatter of approval after he’d spoken and the rising inflections of excitement and support. How could he not be pleased?

  She didn’t dare speak while the driver might hear them, but she couldn’t resist watching him, looking so correct and so regal in his fine suit. So on edge.

  Only once they were safe inside the gates of the Summer House did he turn his head and catch her staring—but still he said nothing.

  Her heart pounded—had he changed his mind? Didn’t he want to do this with her any more?

  Kassie walked ahead of him into the building, marching straight to the private lounge he liked. Once there, she turned to him, determined to breach the defences he’d put up. ‘You won them over. Completely.’

  He shrugged off his jacket and undid his tie with rough gestures that revealed his irritation. ‘I talked too much.’

  ‘No, you didn’t.’ She was surprised he’d think that—he hadn’t said all that much at all. And what he had said had been lovely. ‘You were honest with them.’

  Her heart stopped as she realised how emotional he actually was at this moment.

  ‘Do you feel vulnerable?’ she ventured softly.

  He stared at her moodily and didn’t respond. That silence, that look, told her the answer.

  ‘Everyone does sometimes,’ she said. ‘Feel vulnerable, that is.’

  ‘I am the King.’ He paced away from her with leashed strides. ‘I’m not supposed to be...’

  ‘You’re still allowed to be human. What’s wrong with coming into this century and showing some emotion? It makes you relatable.’

  ‘I don’t need to be relatable,’ he snapped. ‘I just need to do my duty.’

  He truly thought that was all he was meant to do? That upholding the crown was all he could do?

  ‘What happened to work-life balance?’

  ‘There is no difference between the two. My work is my life.’

  ‘Why be such a martyr, Giorgos? What sins are you paying for?’ She now understood that he really did carry some terrible burden of guilt.

  ‘Back off, Kassie.’ He looked lethally angry as he suddenly stalked towards her. ‘You don’t get to pry.’ He reached out and grabbed her. ‘What you get is this.’

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  HIS KISS WAS a merciless exposition of unleashed passion. Forcefully he swept her into his arms. Thrills flickered along her veins as she braced herself to withstand his ruthless onslaught and tried to kiss him back. He pulled her closer, bending her back until she was on the very tips of her toes, utterly at his mercy. And she loved it. Electrified, energised, she moaned at this intoxicating bombardment of pure pleasure to her body—and her soul.

  With a curse he suddenly pulled back, releasing her and rubbing his hand over his face as he visibly tried to recover his self-control. She didn’t want him to—she’d adored the desperate way he’d devoured her, as if he couldn’t kiss her enough to satisfy his need. Not ever enough. Which was exactly how she was feeling. The deepest longing had been unlocked within her and she couldn’t stand to have it denied now.

  ‘Why are you stopping?’ Dazed, she clutched at his shirt so he couldn’t stride away from her.

  ‘I’m too rough...’ he groaned, but his hands automatically shaped her hips again, as if he were losing his inner battle for control. ‘I’m sorry I snapped.’

  She liked his emotion—his passion. It meant he was feeling something—the same way she was. Feeling, she’d decided, was a good thing.

  She shook her head. ‘Not too rough.’

  ‘You’re not used to a man’s touch,’ he said huskily. ‘There were moments last night and this morning when I might have... I don’t want to hurt you.’

  ‘I liked it. All of it. I want more,’ she said with ferocity, every last inhibition burned away by that kiss. ‘I know it might hurt a little...’ She huffed out a heated breath. ‘I’m certain it’ll be worth it.’

  His breath whistled through his clenched teeth and his eyes locked with hers. Satisfaction and anticipation drummed louder and louder within her as she read that desire—that decision—within his blazing gaze.

  He extended his hand and she laced her fingers through his. Together they walked across the smooth wooden floor to her bedroom.

  It was mid-afternoon, so there was no dark night to hide behind. The window overlooked the blue waters stretching to the far horizon. Nothing broke that blue view of sea and sky. The room was light and fresh and utterly dominated by the wide bed.

  Heat burgeoned inside her. She ached to lie on it with him, to feel him entwined with her, to feel his weight...

  He stopped in the centre of the room and she stood before him. Again their gazes met and melded, the wordless communication heralding the intense connection that she knew they both craved. Slowly he move
d, finding the hidden zip of her pretty dress. She held still, held her breath as he released the zipper and pushed the soft linen from her body, leaving her clad in only her underwear.

  He unbuttoned his shirt, swiftly discarding it. He reached into his trouser pocket and pulled out a handful of small foil packages and cast them across that ready bed. Then he scuffed off his shoes, removed his socks and trousers, and finally allowed her the satisfaction of seeing him the way he could now see her—almost bared. And so intimate.

  Her mouth watered and her lips tingled with the need to kiss every inch of the skin she could now see. Her fingers trembled, itchy with the desire to coast over his body—to caress and test the muscles that were so sharply defined. She saw his abs ripple as he flinched at her involuntary mumble as she feasted on the sight of his strained black boxers. A hot feeling pooled at the apex of her thighs. She wanted everything. And she wanted it now. But she was too tense with anticipation even to move.

  He stepped forward and kissed her and her paralysis ended. She skimmed her hands over him, suddenly bold and hungry. He walked her backwards until her knees hit the bed. Trusting him implicitly, she let herself fall and he came with her, their limbs tangling in a frantic mass of desire. Her need to touch and kiss and lave was uncontrollable.

  Inexorably, however, he caught her close and stilled her with the most carnal kiss of her life. He released the catch of her bra, his expression hot as he peeled the silk and lace from her burning skin. She’d never felt as aroused, nor seen anything as erotic as the look on his face as he tugged her white panties down her hips and revealed her sex to his seeking tongue.

  She arched up instinctively at the first sweep. He growled in primal satisfaction as he tasted her readiness and her heat. Gripping her undulating hips with one hand, he held her where he needed to so he could continue that intense torment. As she writhed in hunger he fed her—one finger, then two, pumping her, priming her for his full possession. Fastening his lips to her, he feasted, flicking his tongue until she screamed with incoherent bliss. And as the ripples of her orgasm ebbed he kept his fingers plumbed deep, looking down at her ravenously.

 

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