by Sarah Morgan
‘We share a very powerful sexual chemistry, or we wouldn’t be in this position right now,’ Casper responded instantly, and her hands dropped and she gave a disbelieving laugh.
‘Well, that’s romantic. There’s no mistaking your priorities. Summarised in three words, it would be sex, sex, sex.’
‘Don’t underestimate the importance of sex,’ Casper breathed, watching as her lips parted slightly. ‘If we’re going to be sharing a bed night after night, it helps that I find you attractive.’ Surprisingly, his statement appeared to finally silence her.
She stared at him, her eyes wide, her lips slightly parted. Then she rubbed her hands over her jeans in a self-conscious gesture. ‘You find me—attractive? Really?’
‘Obviously your dress sense needs considerable work,’ he said silkily. ‘And generally speaking I’m not wild about jeans, although I have to confess that you manage to look good in them. Apart from that, and as long as you don’t ever wear anything featuring a cartoon once you’re officially sleeping in my bed, yes, I’ll find you attractive.’
A laugh burst from her throat. ‘I can’t believe you’re telling me how to dress—or that I’m listening.’
‘I’m not telling you how to dress. I’m telling you how to keep me interested. It’s up to you whether you follow the advice or not.’
‘And that’s supposed to be enough? A marriage based on sex?’ She shook her head slowly. ‘It doesn’t make sense. I still don’t understand why, if you genuinely don’t believe this is your baby, you’d be willing to marry me. Instead of facts, why don’t you give me feelings?’
He didn’t have feelings.
He hadn’t allowed himself feelings for eight years.
‘Given all the research you did on the royal house of Santallia, I would think you’d be aware of the reasons. I’m the last of the line. I’m expected to produce an heir. To the outside world, it appears that I’ve done that.’
‘You’re giving me facts again,’ she said softly. ‘How do you feel, Your Highness?’
Ignoring her question, Casper paced over to the window, his tension levels soaring. ‘The people of Santallia are currently in a state of celebration. The moment the story broke on the news, they were making plans for the royal wedding. There will be fireworks and state banquets. Apparently my popularity rating has soared. School children have already been queuing outside the palace with home-made cards and teddies for the baby—little girls with stars in their eyes.’ He turned, looking for signs of remorse. ‘Are you feeling guilty yet, Holly? Is your conscience pricking you?’
‘Teddies?’ Instead of retreating in the face of his harsh words, she appeared visibly moved by the picture he’d painted. Her hand slid to her stomach in an instinctively protective gesture, and he saw tears of emotion glisten in her eyes. ‘They’re that pleased? It is wonderful that everyone is longing for you to get married and have a baby. You must be very touched that they care so much.’
‘It’s because they care so much that we’re standing here now.’
Her gaze held his. ‘So, if they wanted you to have a baby so badly, and you’re so keen to please them, why haven’t you done it before? Why haven’t you married and given them an heir?’ She broke off abruptly and he knew from the guilty flush on her cheeks that her research had included details about his past relationships.
He could almost see her mind working, thinking that she knew what was going on in his.
Fortunately, she didn’t have a clue.
No one did. He’d made sure of that.
The truth was safely buried where it could do no harm. And it was going to stay buried.
Observing his lack of response, she sighed. ‘What’s going on in your head? I don’t understand you!’
‘I don’t require you to understand me,’ Casper said in a cool tone. ‘I just require you to play the part you auditioned for. From now on, you’ll just do as you’re told. You’ll smile when I tell you to smile and you’ll walk where I tell you to walk. In return, you’ll have more money than you know how to spend, and a lifestyle that most of the world will envy.’
She opened her mouth and closed it again, her face a mask of indecision. ‘I don’t know. I really don’t know.’ She stooped and started picking up pieces of broken china, as if she needed to do something with her hands. ‘I thought I’d made up my mind, but now I’m not sure. How can I accept your proposal when you scare me? You use three words, I use thirty. I’ve never met anyone so emotionally detached. I—I’m just not comfortable with you.’ She put the china carefully on the table.
‘Comfortable?’
She rubbed her fingers over her forehead, as if her brain was aching and she wanted to soothe it. ‘We’ll hardly be great parents if I’m bracing myself for conflict every time you enter a room. And then there’s the fact that I don’t exactly fit the profile of perfect princess.’
‘The only thing that matters is that the world thinks you’re carrying my child. As far as the people of Santallia are concerned, that makes you the perfect princess.’
‘But not your perfect princess. You don’t seem to care who you marry. Did you love her very much?’ She blurted out the question as though she couldn’t stop herself, and then gave an apologetic sigh. ‘I’m sorry. Perhaps I shouldn’t. But you lost your fiancée, Antonia, and it’s stupid to pretend that I don’t know about it, because everyone knew—’
No one knew.
‘Enough!’ Stunned that she would dare tread on such dangerous territory, Casper sent her a warning glance, and in that single unsettling moment he had the feeling that she was looking deep inside him.
‘I am sorry,’ she said quietly. ‘Because I certainly don’t want to hurt you. But I don’t see how we’re going to have any sort of marriage when you won’t let another human being get close. You create this barrier around you. Frankly, how I ever felt relaxed enough with you to have sex, I have no idea. At the moment my insides feel as though I swallowed a knotted rope.’ But even as she said the words the tension in the air crackled and snapped, and he saw her chest rise and fall as her breathing quickened.
The sexual chemistry was more powerful than both of them, and Casper wasn’t even aware that he’d moved until his hands slid into her hair and he felt her lips parting in response to the explicit demands of his mouth.
Enforced abstinence and sexual denial had simply increased the feverish craving, and he hauled her hard against him, driven by a sensual urgency previously unknown to him.
Her lips were soft and sweet, and the scent and taste of her closed over him, drowning his senses until every rational thought was blown from his brain by a powerful rush of erotic pleasure.
She moaned with desperation, her arms winding round his neck, her body trembling against his as she arched in sensual invitation, her abandoned response a blatant invitation to further intimacy.
In the grip of an almost agonising arousal, Casper closed possessive hands over her hips and lifted her onto the kitchen table. She was pliant and shivering against him, the sensuous movements of her body shamelessly urging him on.
And then the gentle hiss of water boiling on the Aga penetrated the red fog in his mind and he froze, his seeking hands suddenly still as he realised what he was doing.
And where he was doing it.
Another time, another table.
Deploring the lack of control that gripped him whenever he was with this woman, he dragged his mouth from hers with a huge effort of will, and stared down into her dazed, shocked eyes. Her mouth was damp and swollen from his kiss, and she was shaking with the same wild excitement that was driving him.
His usual self-restraint severely challenged by her addictive sexuality, Casper released his grip on her hips and stepped backwards.
‘Hopefully that should have satisfied any worries you might have about whether or not you’ll be able to relax with me when the time comes.’
She slid off the table, her fingers fastened tightly round the edge for supp
ort. ‘Your Highness.’ Her voice was smoky with passion. ‘Casper—’
‘We’re short on time.’ Ruthlessly withdrawing from the softness he saw in her eyes, he glanced at his watch. ‘I’ve flown in a team of people to help you prepare.’
‘Prepare for what?’ Her eyes dropped to his mouth, and it was obvious that she wasn’t really listening to what he was saying—that her body was still struggling with the electricity that sparked between them.
‘The wedding. We fly to Santallia tonight. We’re getting married tomorrow.’ He paused, allowing time for his words to sink in. ‘And that’s not a proposal, Holly. It’s an order.’
CHAPTER FIVE
THE roar of the crowd reached deafening proportions, and the long avenue leading from the cathedral to the palace was a sea of smiling faces and waving flags.
‘I can’t believe the number of people,’ Holly said faintly as she settled herself in the golden carriage. The rings on the third finger of her left hand felt heavy and unfamiliar, and she glanced down in disbelief. ‘And I can’t believe we’re married. You certainly don’t hang around, do you? You could have given me a little more warning.’
‘Why?’
Why? Only Casper could ask that question, she thought wryly. Fiddling nervously with the enormous diamond ring, she wondered whether there was something wrong with her. Here she was, living a life straight out of the pages of a child’s fairy tale, and she would have swapped the lot for some kind words from the man next to her.
Her life was moving ahead too fast for comfort.
Having spent the previous afternoon with a top dress designer who had apparently cleared her schedule to accommodate the prince’s request to dress his bride, she’d been transferred by helicopter to the royal flight and then arrived in the Mediterranean principality of Santallia as the sun was setting.
‘I loved The Dowager Cottage, by the way.’
‘It was built for my great-great grandmother so that she could escape occasionally from the formality of life in the palace. I’m pleased you were comfortable.’
Physically, yes, but mentally…
Unable to sleep, Holly had spent most of the night sitting on the balcony that looked over the sea, thinking about what was to come.
Thinking about Casper.
Hoping she was doing the right thing.
Exhausted from thinking and worrying, she’d eventually sprawled on the bed, only to be woken by an army of dress designers, hairdressers and make-up artists prepared to turn her from gauche waitress into princess. And then she’d been driven through this same cheering crowd to the cathedral that dominated the main square of Santallia Town.
She remembered very little of the actual service—very little except the memory of Casper standing powerful and confident by her side as they exchanged vows. And at that moment she’d been filled with a conviction that she was doing the right thing.
She was giving her baby a father. A stability that she’d never had. Roots and a family.
How could that be a mistake?
As the carriage began to move forward down the tree-lined avenue, she glanced at the prince, only to find him studying her intently.
Startlingly handsome in his military uniform, Casper lifted her hand to his lips in an old-fashioned gesture that was greeted with cheers of approval from the crowd. ‘The dress is a great improvement on ripped jeans,’ he drawled, and she glanced down at herself, fingering the embroidered silk with reverential fingers.
‘It’s impressive what a top designer can do when required, although I was terrified of tripping over on those steps.’ She couldn’t take her eyes from the cheering crowd. Everywhere she looked there were smiling faces and waving flags. ‘They really love you.’
‘They’re here to see you, not me,’ he said dryly, but she remembered what she’d read about him on the Internet—about his devotion to his country—and knew it wasn’t true.
Although he’d never expected to rule, Prince Casper had stepped into the role, burying his own personal grief in order to bring stability to a country in turmoil.
And they loved him for it.
‘Do you ever wish you weren’t the prince?’ The question left her lips before she could stop it and he gave a faint smile.
‘You have a real gift for voicing questions that other people keep as thoughts.’ He relaxed in the seat, undaunted by the crowds of well-wishers. ‘And the answer is no, I don’t wish it. I love my country.’
He loved his country so much that he’d marry a woman he didn’t love because the people expected it.
Holly glanced at the sun-baked pavements and then at the perfect blue sky. ‘It’s beautiful here,’ she agreed. ‘When I looked out of the window this morning, the first thing I saw was the sea. It felt like being on holiday.’
‘You looked very pale during the service.’ His eyes lingered on her face. ‘You were on your feet for a long time. I was worried that you might keel over.’
‘And presumably a prostrate bride wouldn’t have done anything for your public image,’ she said lightly. ‘I was fine.’
‘I’m reliably informed that the early weeks of pregnancy are often the most exhausting.’
He’d talked to someone about her pregnancy? Her heart lurched, and it suddenly occurred to her just how little she knew about his life here. Had he been talking to a woman? She was aware that his name had been linked with a number of European beauties. Was he…?
‘No,’ he drawled. ‘I wasn’t.’
Her eyes widened. ‘I didn’t say anything—’
‘But you were thinking it,’ he said dryly. ‘And the answer is no, my conversation wasn’t with a lover. It was with a doctor.’
‘Oh.’ She blushed scarlet, mortified that her thoughts had been so transparent, but filled with unimaginable relief that he hadn’t asked another woman. ‘When did you speak to a doctor?’
‘While you were at Foxcourt Manor, I interviewed a handful of the top European obstetricians. It’s important that you feel comfortable with your doctor. After all, you’re not good with detached and cold, are you?’ He gave a faint smile as he alluded to their previous conversation, and Holly was so touched that for a moment she forgot the presence of the cheering, waving crowd.
‘You did that for me?’
‘I don’t want you upset.’
‘That was incredibly thoughtful.’ She wanted to ask whether he’d really done it for her or the baby, but decided that it didn’t matter. The fact that he’d noticed that much about her personality was encouraging.
‘You’re stunning,’ he murmured, his gaze lingering on her glossy mouth and dropping to the demure neckline of her dress. ‘The perfect bride. And you’ve coped with the crowd really well. I’m proud of you.’
‘Really?’ Deciding not to mention the fact that she found him far more intimidating than any crowd, Holly relaxed for the first time in what felt like an eternity. She felt drugged by happiness and weak with relief at the change in him.
He was unusually attentive and much more approachable.
Perhaps, she mused silently, he’d finally deduced that the baby must be his.
What other explanation was there for his sudden change of attitude?
‘And now you need to fulfil your first duty as royal princess.’ He smiled down at her. ‘Smile and wave at the crowd. They’re expecting it.’
Finding it hard to believe that anyone would care whether she waved at them or not, Holly tentatively raised her hand, and the immediate roar of approval from the crowd made her blink in amazement. ‘But I’m just someone ordinary,’ she muttered, and the prince’s eyes gleamed with wry amusement.
‘That’s why they love you. You’re living proof that fairy-tale endings can happen to ordinary people.’
The last of her insecurities faded and Holly gave a bubble of laughter, her mood lifting still further as she saw the smiles of genuine delight on the faces of the people pressing against the barriers.
Flanked by mou
nted guards, the carriage moved slowly down the tree-lined avenue, and ahead of her she was surprised to see Emilio’s bulky frame.
‘But you sent Emilio home.’ Puzzled, she glanced at the prince. ‘He came to say goodbye to me yesterday, and told me that you’d been brilliant.’
‘He insisted on returning this morning.’ Casper gave a faint smile. ‘On such a huge public occasion he refused to entrust your security to anyone else.’
‘Oh, that’s so kind.’ Incredibly touched, Holly gave Emilio a wave. ‘There do seem to be millions of people. What’s this street like on a normal day?’
Casper settled back against the seat. ‘The road leads directly to the palace. It’s a favourite tourist route. Turn to the right at the bottom, and you reach the sea.’
Holly was still smiling at the crowd when she saw a toddler stumble and fall to the ground, his little body trapped against the metal barriers by the sheer pressure of the crowd. ‘Oh no! Stop the coach!’ Before Casper could respond, Holly opened the door of the carriage, hitched her white silk dress up round her middle and jumped down into the road.
Oblivious to the havoc she was creating in the security operation, she hurried across to the bawling toddler and the panicking mum. ‘Is he all right? Oh my goodness—can everyone move back a bit, please?’ Raising her voice and gesturing at the crowd, she breathed a sigh of relief as everyone shifted slightly and she saw the mother safely lift the sobbing child. ‘Phew. It’s a bit crowded, isn’t it? Is he all right? There—don’t cry, sweetheart. Have you got a smile for me?’ She reached out to the child who immediately stopped crying and stared at her in wonder.
‘It’s your tiara, Your Royal Highness, it’s all sparkly, and he loves everything sparkly.’ The woman flushed scarlet. ‘We all wanted to get a good view of you, madam.’
Holly noticed a trickle of blood on the child’s forehead. ‘He’s cut his head on the barrier. Does someone have a plaster?’
‘Holly.’
Hearing her name, she looked over her shoulder and saw Casper striding towards her, a strange expression on his face. ‘Holly, you’re giving the security team heart-failure.’