The Queen's Nine-Month Scandal

by Abby Green

  Analia whispered through a pounding heart, ‘I don’t want to run.’ She wanted this man to take her away from here, from this place. Take her somewhere where she could feel in control of her own destiny, even for just a few hours. Give her back something of herself. Something she could treasure in the months and years to come...

  ‘Then don’t run. Come with me.’

  Yes. It was the craziest thing she felt, this recognition. The answer reverberated through her body again before her mind could catch up. ‘Yes.’

  She wasn’t aware she’d spoken out loud until he took her glass from her hand and put it down on a nearby table. She was dimly amazed that it hadn’t splintered into pieces in her hand before now.

  With her hand firmly in his, he led her back into the palazzo and towards the main door. It felt unnacountably right that she was leaving with him. There was no fear. On some very deep and instinctive level she felt as if she’d known this man forever. Sasha.

  Little fires raced up her arm from where their hands were joined. He led her down dark passageways lit only by flaming lanterns and out to an entrance where a speedboat was waiting. Only another passing boat along the canal broke the peace.

  He turned to her then in the shadowy arched entrance and cupped her face with two large hands, making the blood rush to her head. He looked fierce but it was intoxicating. This time Analia was ready for his kiss and when his hard mouth settled over hers, she responded eagerly, opening up to him.

  Her hands clung to his shirt. Her legs were wobbly. She could feel the steely strength of his chest against the backs of her fingers. The wicked stroke of his tongue along hers sucked her into a vortex of need and desire.

  He tore his mouth away abruptly and Analia realized they were both breathing raggedly. She couldn’t focus, couldn’t find her footing. She was floating in a heat haze. Everything tingled. She wanted him. More than anything she’d ever wanted.

  ‘You’re sure you want to come with me?’ His scent wound around her, binding her to him as inexorably as if he’d chained her to him. She had the sudden compulsion that she wanted him not just for tonight but forever. Which was beyond crazy. She’d only just met him. But the thought of this moment, this night ending now was more terrifying to her than the emotionally sterile future she faced.

  ‘Yes.’

  It was just one word but Analia was giving everything over to this man without hesitation. Her trust and her most fragile secret dreams. Herself. Because she knew that this would be her most selfish act.

  He led her to where the small sleek boat bobbed gently on the water. He stepped in and turned back, placing his hands around her waist to lift her in. Analia placed her hands on his wide shoulders and looked down into a face she couldn’t see, eyes she couldn’t read and yet...something throbbed between them, deeper than lust. And then his hands tightened and he lifted her into the boat.

  Leading her to a place to sit, he placed a luxurious throw around her shoulders and legs, and then turned to put the boat in motion. They moved out into the canal and it felt like a dream Analia never wanted to wake from. Everything was made more surreal by the black lace which obscured her vision.

  The small boat scythed through the water leaving a spray in their wake. She thought of how she’d envied the couple on the boat earlier...and here she was now in her own fantasy. The glorious crumbling grandeur of Venice passing them by as night fell over the jewel of a city.

  Her eyes drifted back to where Sasha stood at the controls, his wide-legged stance. For the first time in her life she was handing over control to someone else, trusting someone else. She realized in that moment, how utterly self-contained and strong she’d had to be for so long. She’d never even allowed herself to indulge in the fantasy of leaning on someone else. Allowing someone else to make decisions...it made her ache for something she’d never really acknowledged wanting before. A soul mate. And to be thinking of that now, with this stranger...and even more disturbingly, she felt protected in a way that a hundred bodyguards couldn’t make her feel. As if nothing could harm her as long as he was close to her.

  She wondered what his real name was, who he was—then stopped herself. Tonight wasn’t about that. She would never see him again once this was over. This fleeting feeling of handing over control wouldn’t last and she couldn’t for a second get used to it. She tried to ignore the lancing regret inside her. Regret had no place here. And then the boat was coming to a stop by a wooden jetty and he was turning and holding out his hand to her. Analia stood up and put her hand in his.

  * * *

  The door of Daniel’s luxurious hotel suite closed behind them and he watched as the beautiful stranger walked into the room ahead of him—still with that intriguing mix of hesitance and confidence.

  He rested back against the door for a moment, delicious anticipation winding his body tight with desire. Watching her. Imagining baring her to his gaze. His mouth. A tendril of unease flickered through Daniel. This situation, with this woman, was very different to what he was used to. It felt as if there was a deeper communication taking place than mere lust and it unsettled him, but not enough to turn back. He could no more do that than stop breathing.

  She turned around and looked at him. He pushed himself off the door and as he did so he took off his jacket and threw it carelessly on a chair nearby. He came and stood right in front of her and could smell her clean seductive scent tease his nostrils. And something more potent. Desire.

  ‘I want to see you,’ he said throatily. ‘Take off your mask.’

  Immediately she tensed and backed away jerkily. She put a hand up as if to check it was still there. ‘No. It stays on.’

  Frustration beat through Daniel’s blood. It made him nervous to realize how badly he wanted to see her revealed. So he shrugged lightly like it didn’t matter. ‘Whatever you want.’

  He took her hand and led her into his bedroom, lit only by one dim light, curtains billowing gently in the breeze. He turned and faced her, that beautiful voluptuous mouth cast into shadow.

  Cupping her delicate jaw in his hands, he pulled at her lower lip with his thumb, feeling how soft it was. Desire enflamed him. He couldn’t ever remember any woman having such an effect on him.

  Urging her towards him he could swear she trembled lightly and yet...would such a woman tremble? A woman who could offer herself up to a complete stranger? And he, the man who would take her...a small voice pointed out. But Daniel had been damned long ago so he didn’t worry about it.

  * * *

  Analia’s heart was beating so fast she felt sure he must hear it but his dark gray gaze was fixated on her mouth, which tingled under his look. When he’d asked her to take off her mask she’d panicked but thankfully he hadn’t insisted. She was soon forgetting all about her mask though as his hands urged her closer. She was trembling and hoped he wouldn’t notice.

  ‘Open my shirt,’ he instructed her gutturally. Analia’s hands went to the row of buttons and she prayed her hands wouldn’t shake. Undoing button after button seemed to take a torturously long time. She had to lift his shirt free of his trousers to undo the last ones and saw a dark line of hair disappearing beneath his belt. Lust gripped her insides so fiercely she had to bite her lip.

  He did the rest of the job for her, pulling his shirt open and then off, dropping it to the ground. Analia could only drink in the magnificence of his broad and hard muscled chest. His pectorals were dusted with hair and something deeply feminine within her sighed in sheer appreciation.

  She heard his belt unbuckle and only noticed belatedly where his hands had gone. She gulped and kept looking up. His mouth quirked sexily and after he’d stepped out of his trousers, he put his hands on her arms and pulled her around so that he could sit her on the side of the bed.

  Obeying some impulse, Analia leaned forward and pulled Sasha’s mask off his face and over his head. He drew back for a moment. She couldn’t really make out his features in the gloom but she cupped his face in her sm
all hands, feeling the bristle of his beard tickle her palms. And then she bent forward and pressed her mouth to his.

  For a moment he seemed startled and then he took control, coming up to kneel between her legs, spreading them apart, mouth open, tongue thrusting deep, exactly where she hungered for it.

  She barely felt his hands at her back, lowering her zipper, or then reaching down to take her shoes off her feet. Or when they trailed up under her dress to her thighs where he found the tops of her stockings and started to roll them down.

  She was only aware of how she never wanted to stop kissing him. Of how his overlong hair felt so silky between her fingers as she clasped his head. And of the intensely masculine way his beard tickled her soft skin.

  When he drew back Analia went with him, loathe to break the contact. He was breathing raggedly, or was it her? She didn’t know anymore, her heartbeat was so loud. Gently he pushed her back slightly and she only realized what he’d done when her dress fell to her waist.

  Instantly she felt embarrassed and went to cover her breasts but his hands stopped hers. ‘No. You’re beautiful. I want to look at you.’

  He kept her hands captive and pulled them apart baring her to his hot gaze. Analia knew she should be feeling ashamed but she couldn’t drum it up. Intense excitement spiked her blood. She could feel her breasts responding, the tips puckering tight, aching for his touch.

  When he let her hands go he pushed closer, bunching her dress up even higher so her thighs were exposed. Cupping one pertly plump breast in his hand, Sasha flicked a thumb over one deeply sensitized nipple, Analia moaned softly.

  Then he bent his head and with his tongue, tasted the taut peak, exploring all around it until she felt as if she might explode from the gentle touch. She was about to beg when he drew the aching tip into his mouth and sucked fiercely making her cry out.

  After long seconds of delicious torture, Sasha drew back and said in a low roughened voice, ‘Move back.’

  Analia’s limbs felt like liquid but she scooted back on the bed, her dress falling down more with the movement so she was completely bared from the waist up. Sasha bent forward and slipped his hands under her bottom and hips and gently tugged the dress from under her, over her hips and thighs and off where she heard it fall in a silken swish on the floor.

  Now all she wore were her lace panties. Then his hands were there too. Analia’s breath felt painful. But instead of pulling them off, Daniel spread her thighs and moved between her legs. He pressed his mouth to her belly and Analia fell back onto the bed. His mouth trailed a hot fire over her navel, and down.

  She wanted to press her thighs together but he held them apart. Her breath stopped when she felt his mouth against the sheer lace where they proved to be a pathetic barrier against his exploration.

  Heat prickled over her exposed skin and wet heat moistened her, just where his mouth and tongue held her in a state of high tension. His fingers pulled aside the thin barrier of lace, baring her skin to his touch and she arched off the bed when she felt him touch her, tongue to skin.

  He licked her, tasted her, his tongue finding the secret, sacred opening of her body and stabbing deep. Analia was aware of moaning coming from somewhere. Her hand was in his hair, gripping him. And then she felt his tongue move up, circling her clitoris as two fingers thrust inside her. Analia lost any sense of reason, pre-orgasmic tremors racked her body in reaction, as small waves of pleasure pulsed through her, gathering force.

  It was too much. She couldn’t cope. Blindly, Analia tugged on Sasha’s hair until he lifted his head. She gasped, ‘I can’t...take it.’

  He surged up over her body and pressed a kiss to her mouth. She tasted herself on his tongue and it was the most erotic sensation. He drew back. ‘You can,’ he said roughly with assertation.

  Analia was quivering, as taut as a bowstring. Her whole body sensitized to the point of pain. She vaguely heard foil ripping and instinctively reached a hand down to encircle Sasha’s impressive erection, moving her hand experimentally up and down, squeezing gently, fascinated by the silken steely strength.

  ‘Witch...you’re a beautiful witch,’ he muttered, before taking her hand away gently and sheathing himself. Analia lay back, unable to do much more, breathing raggedly. Her inner thighs tingled from where his beard had scratched.

  She was laid bare to this man’s gaze. This man whose name she didn’t even know. The knowledge was heady and yet a part of her felt incredibly poignant for a moment.

  He came down alongside her again and said gruffly, as he brought his hand up to cup her breast possessively, ‘You’re more...than anything I’ve ever experienced.’

  Analia felt a wave of tenderness wash through her and it unsettled her. Tender emotions weren’t something she was used to, having had to maintain a distance from others all the time. She reached up to touch his jaw. “So are you...”

  Spreading his hand across her breasts, trapping a nipple between his fingers, Sasha moved his body over hers, mouth to mouth, tongues tangling furiously. Heat was rising. Their hearts seemed to be beating as one. In an innately feminine move as old as time, Analia moved so that he slipped into the cradle of her thighs. Her legs spread around him as if they’d lain together before.

  He lifted himself off her slightly and then she felt him at her core. Without words, she put her hands on his arms, and arched up slightly. He emitted another word in a language that sounded like Russian and then he was pushing inside her, stretching her impossibly, filling her so that she gasped out loud at the exquisite pleasure bordering on pain.

  ‘You’re so tight,’ he growled.

  When he thrust again it became proper pain and Analia instinctively tensed. Immediately Sasha stopped. The only sound in the room was their ragged breathing. ‘You can’t be...’ he said.

  Analia felt as if she were between heaven and hell. But she knew it would be infinitely worse if he stopped now. So she gritted her teeth against the stinging pain and wrapped her legs around his waist, binding him to her fiercely.

  ‘Don’t you dare stop now.’ she commanded.

  The words were ripped from his throat, raw. ‘As if I could...’

  He put his hand between them and his clever fingers found where he’d brought her close before. Immediately Analia spasmed in reaction, the pain eclipsed for a moment. ‘That’s right sweetheart, relax your muscles, let me in.’

  As if she could deny him. Analia felt him slide further in and felt a ripple of sensation deep inside her, unlike anything she’d ever known. Moving her hips experimentally it came again. Sasha drove in and out, his fingers moving against her, between them, heightening her pleasure.

  She almost sobbed a plea for him to stop but just then the tension broke and wave upon wave of indescribable pleasure washed through her, obliterating everything in their wake. The pleasure was so viscerally physical that Analia forgot to breathe for a long moment, before finally reacting and sucking in great lungfuls of air.

  For a long suspended minute they seemed to hang in the brilliance of the moment and then it crashed slowly around them. She felt a rush of warmth inside her. Daniel’s body was thick and heavy in hers but she couldn’t unwrap her legs from around him. Chuckling softly, darkly, he moved so that his weight was off her and then pulled her close into his chest, their legs entwined, still intimately joined.

  CHAPTER THREE

  DANIEL WOKE SOME time later to find himself with Alexandra still wrapped in his arms. He recalled going to sleep, still inside her. He moved a fraction but she made a soft sexy sound and snuggled close to his chest. One long, lissome leg curled around his, trapping him. The sense of unease he’d felt earlier returned. When he slept with a woman, he usually couldn’t wait to extricate himself, wanting to shower straight away. Right now, he felt as if he’d kill anyone who tried to part them.

  She’d been a virgin. The knowledge crashed through Daniel’s head as if he’d been holding it at bay. Since when did virgins go out with seduction in mind?He
moved slightly so that he could look at her face. That sinful mouth was plump from his kisses. Making him want to kiss it again. The mask had moved slightly, exposing more of her face, a small straight nose.

  His fingers itched to pull it off now that he could. But he remembered the almost panicked way she’d said no earlier and cursed. Giving up any chance of escape and not really wanting to, Daniel lay back down.

  It was only after a few seconds, when sleep was reclaiming him that Daniel’s eyes snapped open. Peace. For the first time in his life...he felt at peace.

  * * *

  Analia woke slowly, blinking to adjust to the weak dawn light filtering in through gently billowing curtains. She was completely disorientated. Everything was different; her surroundings, her. Her body felt deliciously lethargic and sated, yet humming with a restlessness she’d never known before. Before. She looked to her side and stifled a shocked gasp when she saw the naked body of the man in the bed beside her and her sluggish brain finally caught up with her.

  She had a humiliating memory of not releasing him last night after...afte. Analia closed her eyes now and gulped. After he’d wrung every ounce of pleasure out of her. More than she’d known she was capable of.

  Urgency gripped her. If she didn’t return to her hotel by daybreak proper and she was discovered missing, it would cause a national incident. She was also terrified that he might wake and she would have to face the undoubtedly mocking look in his eyes. She’d been so easy. She’d never done anything so knowingly dangerous or morally reprehensible in her life. But it hadn’t felt morally reprehensible, a small wicked voice crowed and Analia’s skin went hot to recall how it had felt.

  Stealthily she got out of the bed without disturbing him. Tiptoeing around she picked up the detritus of her clothes and put them on as best she could, struggling with the zip on her dress.

  It was only as she was about to leave the room, her heart feeling heavy in her chest, that she noticed her lace mask had fallen off and lay on the bed. She went back to get it and spotted something out of the corner of her eye. His passport. Her heart thumping, she stopped in her tracks. It sat enticingly on the gleaming walnut chest of drawers. She looked from it to the sleeping man on the bed.