Harlequin Presents July 2017 Box Set : The Pregnant Kavakos Bride / a Ring to Secure His Crown / the Billionaire's Secret Princess / Wedding Night With Her Enemy (9781460350751)

by Kendrick, Sharon; Lawrence, Kim; Crews, Caitlin; Milburne, Melanie

  She lifted her brows before directing her retort at her pearly polished toenails. ‘Who knows? Your robot logic might cancel out my silly, girly emotionalism.’ As the last quivering resentful words left her lips her head lifted, but there was no answering anger in Sebastian’s face as their eyes clashed. He looked…hell, he looked incredibly sexy and exhausted. Her anger was lost in a wave of protective empathy.

  ‘For God’s sake, Sabrina, I want you in my bed, not in my head!’ he blasted, then saw her expression and stopped, a curse of frustration escaping his clenched teeth. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean—’

  ‘Yes, you did.’ She sat there looking frozen, offended and so incredibly sexy with her honey tumbled hair and pink mouth still partly swollen from their kisses from the previous night that he experienced the tsunami of all hormone surges. It struck with no warning and the results on his brain function was devastating—a white-hot, brain-melting blast.

  Endurance was the only response. Waiting for it to pass, Sebastian closed his eyes, the muscles of his throat working as he fought for control—this should not be happening. Sex should have smoothed the path; the absence of love should have meant this was easier, not more complicated…yet another occasion when theory fell well short of reality!

  He took a deep breath and tried again to breach the chasm he could feel forming between them. ‘Look…’ Their eyes connected and the silence stretched, only interrupted by the discordant sounds of their individual jagged breathing.

  ‘Marriage does not have to conform to any set pattern. We need to set out our own rules, not conform…and we must be flexible.’ She had been beautifully flexible last night.

  ‘What are you saying?’ she whispered, unable to tear her eyes away from his hot, scorching stare. Her insides were melting.

  Good question, he thought. ‘I really don’t know…’ he said, because this was very much outside his experience. ‘I can’t promise anything, Sabrina. I know you have dreams and…’ He gave a short laugh, hating himself and the system for all that she had been robbed of. ‘Maybe you never had any, but anyway I’m sorry that this is your life, the politics, the scheming. I guess what I’m trying to say is that I don’t want us to be warring factions, sending notes to one another through a third party. You deserve more than that.’ And more than me, he thought.

  His driven words penetrated the warm sexual whirlpool that was drawing her inside, a weird but oddly seductive experience. ‘That won’t happen,’ she managed faintly.

  ‘It could. I’ve seen it in action…my parents…no matter what, we will never be them.’ Kill me first, he thought. ‘I’d tell you about it but maybe in the long run it will just get easier when this chemistry wears off.’

  Did the fact his deep voice was actually shaking with need make his prediction any the less painful? The rampant hunger glowing in his eyes made this a question for later; right now all she wanted to do was feel him inside her.

  ‘But in the meantime let’s enjoy it?’ he growled.

  The hungry intent stamped on his lean face made her insides quiver with helpless desire.

  Sebastian was fighting his way out of his jacket as he levered his long length onto the bed beside her.

  Sabrina helped him.

  * * *

  It was the following day before he saw her next.

  In that time, he had been able to gain some perspective, and a little sympathy he had previously lacked for people who actually convinced themselves that a hormonal response was something spiritual and everlasting. It was an easy mistake to make, he now appreciated.

  Of course, there was more involved with his situation with Sabrina. They were two people in a unique arrangement that very few would ever experience; the affinity, the sense of understanding, when combined with a physical attraction had, when you viewed the situation logically, been almost predictable.

  Then he saw her, and the smug, comforting conclusions slipped through his fingers like sand.

  ‘Hello, there.’

  Sabrina started guiltily, looking from him to the heavy tome in her lap. She removed the rather sexy specs that had been balanced on the end of her nose.

  ‘Sorry!’ she said as she stood, clutching the heavy book to her chest. ‘We weren’t expecting you until later.’

  ‘Is that a royal we?’

  She tried to slide her foot back into a sandal. ‘Hard to be royal when you’re barefoot.’ Hard to sound as if you had more than one brain cell when this man was standing so close. ‘How did it go?’

  Well done, Brina, you sounded almost sane and not sadly deluded and desperately in love.

  He dragged a hand through his hair ‘I have some sympathy with the idea of being a despot…’

  ‘That’s because you are incredibly impatient.’ Gifted with a quick mind and an exceptional intellect, Sebastian struggled, she suspected, with the intellectual pace of a normal human being.

  ‘So what are you reading?’

  Heart beating fast, she hugged the book closer to her chest, knowing she looked guilty as she shrugged and took a step back. ‘Just a thing…nothing really.’

  He bent down to her level and read the spine, running a finger along it as he read out the title. ‘“Dementia and the Socio-Economic Impact on Developing Nations…” Wow, racy stuff! Don’t look so worried—it can be our guilty secret.’

  ‘Someone I know wrote it. They asked me for a review.’

  ‘So they are getting paid to read it?’

  She frowned, wondering if that was against the rules. ‘Not exactly. I keep the book.’

  His teasing smile faded as the full impact of what she had left behind, the expertise that she was never likely to use, hit home. In contrast to the knot of anger in his belly, his voice was gentle. ‘This really is not your world, is it?’

  ‘It is now.’ She lifted her chin and along with it any wimpish impulses to throw herself at him and confess it had been awful: the arrival, tea with the Queen and being introduced to the women who she was expected to be friends with, suitable women.

  She could deal with that, but she would be the wife he needed even if he didn’t know he needed her yet… Would he ever? ‘You never said—beyond discovering buried despotic tendencies you discovered, how was your day?’

  Better since I saw you.

  And the shocks just kept coming, he thought, pressing a hand to the region of his chest where the pleasurable warmth had ignited when he’d seen her sitting with her bare feet dangling in the historic fountain. He lowered his hand and focused instead on the lust that had come with it. There was something delightfully uncomplicated about lust. It was one of the basic needs in life, like hunger and sleep, and he was tired. It was a known fact that exhaustion could do weird things to a man’s brain.

  His glance slid to the inches of smooth calf revealed as she lifted her skirt to grimace at the inches of damp silk that clung to those smooth calves. As it lifted he saw there was still a question in her eyes.

  ‘Long.’ And so were her legs.

  The signs of tiredness in his face intensified the ache inside her.

  ‘And you?’

  ‘I had tea with your…the Queen.’

  ‘And you’re not lying down in a darkened room? I’m impressed.’

  ‘She was trying to be helpful.’

  One dark brow elevated. ‘That bad.’

  ‘Apparently I am meeting a stylist tomorrow.’

  ‘No!’

  Her eyes flew up to his face. ‘No what?’

  ‘Just no, you do not need a stylist, and the last thing you need is to be turned into some sort of “ladies who lunch” clone, and the idea that you need a makeover is an insult.’

  His indignation on her behalf made her lips twitch but also filled her with a deep sense of relief. She didn’t want to emulate th
e women she had met today. ‘Is that an executive decision?’

  He arched a haughty brow. ‘You have a problem with that?’

  She gave a tiny smile. ‘I’ll let you know when I have a problem.’ She responded to the touch of his hand on her elbow, skipping a little to keep up with his long-legged pace. ‘Obviously I can’t offend the Queen.’

  He gave a laugh. ‘She has the hide of a rhino.’

  ‘I will see the stylist.’

  He stopped and swung her around to face him.

  ‘I’ll just ignore what he says.’

  The annoyance slowly faded from his face and he laughed.

  ‘It’s called diplomacy, Seb. You should try it.’

  He placed his hands on her shoulders and leaned in closer, his breath warm on the cool skin of her face. ‘You offering to give me lessons, cara?’

  She shivered and raised herself onto her toes and his mouth brushed across her wavering lips. ‘Sometimes,’ she whispered, ‘the direct approach is better.’

  She went limp as the hunger in his kiss drove the breath from her body.

  He stroked her face and felt the tensions of the day slip away. ‘You really are a very beautiful woman, Sabrina.’ She sighed and turned her face into his hand. ‘I’ve never believed that it is possible to maintain any sort of friendship with a woman after an affair is over, but we just might.’

  Her half-closed eyes snapped open and she stepped back abruptly, leaving him holding empty air. What the hell had just happened?

  ‘What’s wrong?’

  She gave an inarticulate little growl of fury and stuck out her chin, glaring at him, dark eyes glowing with angry contempt as the words fell from her lips in an angry rush. His comment had pierced the protective shell of a core of pain she hadn’t known was there until now.

  ‘That you have to ask that says it all! I’m not a woman you’re having an affair with. I’m your wife.’ In the act of turning her back on him she swung back and shook her head. ‘Has it ever occurred to you that you were never friends with those women afterwards because you were never friends before?’

  An expression of seething frustration on his face, he watched her stalk away, her head high, her narrow back eloquently rigid. Any inclination he had to follow her faded when she stopped twenty feet or so away and paused to fling over her shoulder, ‘And, for the record, neither are we!’

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  UNREASONABLE DIDN’T EVEN begin to cover her attitude, he decided as he paced up and down his study, pausing only to take a mouthful of the brandy that he held.

  He had held out hope for the future and she had thrown it back in his face; she had acted as though he had insulted her!

  And hadn’t he?

  Pushing away the suggestion, he nursed his sense of injustice along with the brandy as the level of one rose higher, the other sank lower, until the glass was empty.

  He stopped pacing and sat staring morosely at the wall; as the minutes ticked away his anger slipped away. When there was a knock on the door, it opened before he responded.

  Sabrina took a deep breath. It had taken her half an hour to work up the courage to do this. Half an hour after a lot of angry tears to reach the point where she had asked herself why she was angry.

  She was angry because the future he saw, even the best-scenario future, was not the one she dreamed of. She couldn’t force him to love her and she couldn’t punch him for not loving her.

  Rather than be angry and bitter about what she couldn’t have, she should do what he had said and enjoy what they did have while it lasted.

  ‘I overreacted. Sebastian, I don’t want to sleep alone.’

  She held her breath as he got to his feet. It seemed to take a long time and even longer for him to cross the room to her.

  ‘Neither do I.’ With a groan he dragged her to him, kissing her with a rough, hungry intensity that drove the breath from her lungs and the strength from her legs. As her knees sagged he picked her up and carried her over to the sofa.

  She knew it was only sex he was giving her but when she closed her eyes his tender response felt like love. When he moved inside her it felt as though they were truly one, not just physically, but in every way.

  He took her to a place within herself that she hadn’t known existed; she lost a sense of where she began and he ended. The sadness, deep and profound, came afterwards, when he held her tenderly, because she knew that Sebastian was not feeling what she did. He gave her his body but she would never touch his soul.

  * * *

  ‘The ladies are in the Small Salon.’

  Sabrina smiled in response to the gentle reminder from her assistant and thought, I can’t wait, but carried on moving papers around her desk.

  She stopped and asked herself for the first time that day—what am I doing?

  Beyond the obvious, which was waiting for Sebastian to return. They had spent an entire week together before he had left for a week.

  She had tried to fill the hours, telling herself that she had to build a life that didn’t revolve around a husband who most likely forgot she existed the moment he walked out of the room, and one day in the future when she was in the room.

  Live in the moment, Brina!

  Great advice, but really tough to follow through with.

  Work of a sort had saved her: the timing of the approach from the university hospital, asking her to help to fill the vacancy for a head of the new Alzheimer’s research unit they were keen to establish, had been perfect.

  As well as using her contacts in London to line up someone for the post, Sabrina had surreptitiously channelled some funding their way too and acted suitably surprised when the dean of the faculty had remarked on their good fortune.

  ‘The ladies?’

  Sabrina, who realised she had been sitting there with her eyes closed, opened them and looked from the pencil she had just snapped in half to her assistant. She painted on a smile.

  ‘Oh, yes, the ladies. And I use the term loosely.’

  Rachel struggled to hide her smile.

  * * *

  Sabrina paused outside the open door of the room where her new friends were gathered and glanced in the mirror, smoothing down her already smooth hair.

  The half a dozen women inside apparently represented the cream of society. One lunch had conformed her suspicions that she had nothing whatever in common with them and she despised them almost as much as she knew they despised her.

  ‘I heard that he was seen going into her hotel suite at one in the morning.’

  The low murmur of laughter made Sabrina pause in the act of entering the salon.

  ‘Do you suppose she knows?’

  Sabrina pressed a hand to her stomach and told herself to breathe.

  ‘Why would she care?’

  She had no problem placing this speaker with a face. Sabrina could imagine the malice and contempt in the pale eyes as the woman gave a dramatic pause before concluding, ‘She’s got exactly what she wanted…a crown.’

  A crown…the irony drew a tiny grunt of reaction from the listening Sabrina. She smoothed a hand across the fair hair twisted away from her face in a shiny chignon, almost feeling the symbolic weight.

  ‘And I suppose all royals are trained from birth to turn a blind eye.’

  ‘Royal? Have you seen where they live? Her mother wore the same outfit to three state events last year and her father sits in the public park playing chess with the…the peasants…’

  Sabrina walked quietly into the room; unobserved, she stood in the doorway and made the decision not to waste another moment of her life playing nice with these spiteful women. It came as a relief.

  ‘Well, I feel sorry for her. If my husband cheated on me—’

  ‘You don’t have a husb
and, and if you carry on stuffing your face with pastries you won’t.’

  Sabrina didn’t slow or quicken her pace as she walked towards the group of expensively dressed, beautifully made up women sitting around a table set for tea.

  They got to their feet almost as one when they saw her.

  She ignored their furtive expressions—a couple even had not lost the ability to blush—and kept her eyes fixed on the one woman who had remained seated.

  Brought up in a much more relaxed atmosphere, Sabrina had always viewed the protocol that made everyone scramble to their feet when she walked into a room ludicrous, but on this occasion?

  Sabrina’s smile was practised and smooth when a few moments later the other woman got to her feet, her pouty mouth twisted into a forced, rigid smile.

  Sabrina’s eyes moved past her to the other women. ‘Please, ladies, as you were. I’m so sorry to keep you waiting but something unexpected has come up, so I’ll see you all on Thursday. No, actually, no, I don’t think I will. Our little gatherings are cancelled for the foreseeable future.’

  She took a step towards the door before pausing and twisting back. ‘Actually, we don’t have peasants. My father was a chess grand master at seventeen, and my mother always taught me to judge the person and not the clothes they wear. Oh, and by the way, the only woman sharing my husband’s bed is me.’

  Without waiting to observe the effect of her words she swept from the room.

  Her painted-on smile faded the instant she stepped out of the room. She still felt dizzy with the anger that cooled slightly as she made her way back to her office.

  ‘Rachel, would you cancel all the lunches with the—?’ She stopped as she saw the personal items that her assistant was pushing into a large tote bag. ‘What are you doing? Have you been crying?’ She went over and put her arm around the girl’s shoulder. ‘What’s wrong?’

  ‘I… I’m leaving…’

  Sabrina shook her head. ‘I don’t understand.’

  The girl managed a watery smile. ‘I have been—’