by Sarah Morgan
‘Oh.’ She tried to look pleased. After all, he was trying, wasn’t he? It wouldn’t be fair to point out that her wardrobes were bulging with clothes and that she only had one pair of feet on which to wear shoes, and that what she really wanted was a few hours in his company when they weren’t having sex. ‘Thank you.’
‘I hope you like it.’ His confident smile suggested that he wasn’t in any doubt about that, and Holly flipped open the lid of the dark-blue velvet box and was dazzled by the sparkle and gleam of diamonds.
‘My goodness.’
‘They’re pink diamonds. I know you like pink. Apparently they’re very rare.’
When had he even noticed that she liked pink?
He was such a contradiction, she thought numbly, lifting the necklace from the box and instantly falling in love with it. He spent hardly any time alone with her, but he seemed to be trying to please her.
And he’d noticed that she liked pink.
‘It’s beautiful,’ she said honestly, fastening the necklace round her neck and walking across the room to admire herself in the mirror. ‘Is it very valuable?’
‘Would knowing how much it cost make it a more welcome gift?’ There was an edge to his tone that she didn’t understand.
‘No, of course not.’ She touched the sparkling diamonds nervously. ‘I’m just wondering whether I dare wear it out of the bedroom.’
He relaxed slightly. ‘It’s yours to lose, keep or trade,’ he drawled softly, and Holly frowned, puzzled by his comment but too tired to search for a hidden meaning.
‘You do say the weirdest things.’ Suppressing a yawn, she walked back to the window seat, feeling the weight of the diamonds against her throat. ‘I’ve never worn diamonds before. And I never imagined wearing them in bed.’
‘I intended them to go with your dress this evening.’ His gaze was fixed on her face. ‘You’re extremely tired.’
‘Long day.’
‘Too long. The official visits have to stop, Holly.’
‘What? Why?’ Hurt and upset by the apparent criticism, Holly sat up straighter in her seat. ‘What am I doing wrong? I’ve worked so hard.’
‘Precisely. You’re working too hard.’
For a moment Holly just gaped at him in disbelief. ‘That’s the most unfair criticism I’ve ever heard. How can I be working too hard?’
‘If you’re so exhausted you’re falling asleep, then you’re working too hard.’
‘That’s nothing to do with the official visits. I’m falling asleep because you keep me awake half the night!’ She looked at him in exasperation, her temper mounting. ‘Oh, that’s it, isn’t it? You don’t like me working hard because you’re afraid I’m going to be too tired to perform in the bedroom! Is that all you care about, Casper? Whether I have the energy for sex?’
‘You’re doing that uniquely female thing of twisting words for the purpose of starting a row.’ Ice cool, he watched her with masculine detachment and Holly felt a flash of frustration.
‘No, I’m not. I hate rows. I would never, ever choose to row with anyone. I hate conflict.’ The ironic gleam in his eyes somehow served to make her even more infuriated. ‘And you’d know I hate conflict if you’d bothered to spend a few hours alone in my company! But you don’t, do you? Do you realise we’ve never even been on a proper date? You are so, so selfish! You just come to bed and do your whole virile, macho-stud thing, and then you swan off, leaving me.’
One dark brow lifted in cool appraisal. ‘Leaving you?’
‘Exhausted,’ she muttered, and a sardonic smile touched his mouth.
‘So I leave you to sleep. By my definition, that makes me unselfish, not selfish. And it brings me back to my earlier point, which is that you’re working too hard.’
‘You always have to win, don’t you?’ Holly sank back down onto the window seat, the bout of anger having sapped the last of her energy. It just wasn’t worth arguing with him.
‘It isn’t about winning. Believe it or not, I do have your welfare at heart. After I left you this afternoon, I asked a few questions. Questions I should have asked a long time ago it seems.’ There was a frown in his eyes. ‘It’s no wonder you’re so tired. Apparently you’ve been working flat out since the day after our wedding. You’ve been doing ten to fifteen visits a day! And you spend ages with everyone. From what I’ve been told, you don’t even give yourself a lunch break.’
‘Well, there’s a lot to fit in.’ Holly defended herself. ‘Have you any idea how many requests the palace receives? People send letters, sometimes official and sometimes handwritten. Stacks and stacks of them. There have already been requests for me to go and visit schools and hospitals, open this or that, make an official visit, cut ribbons, smash bottles of champagne—I judged a dog show last week and I don’t know anything about dogs. And then there are the individuals, people who are ill and can’t get out—’
‘Holly.’ His tone was a mixture of amusement and disbelief. ‘You’re not supposed to say yes to all of them. The idea is that you pick and choose.’
‘Well if I say yes to one and not another then I’m going to offend someone!’ Holly glared at him and then subsided. ‘And anyway, I’m enjoying myself. I like seeing people. For some reason that I absolutely don’t understand, it cheers them up to see me. And I won’t give it up!’
People liked her. People approved of her.
She felt as though she was making a difference, and it felt good.
‘You’re working yourself to the bone. From now on I’m giving instructions that you’re to do no more than two engagements a day,’ he instructed. ‘On a maximum of five days a week.’
‘No!’ Horrified by that prospect, Holly pushed her hair out of her eyes. ‘What am I going to do the rest of the time? You obviously don’t want to see me during the hours of daylight, you’re—you’re like a vampire or something! You just turn up at night.’
Thick dark lashes concealed his expression. ‘You have unlimited funds and virtually unlimited opportunities for entertainment.’ His soft drawl connected straight with her nerve endings, and Holly felt everything weaken.
‘Well there’s no point in doing stuff if you don’t have anyone to share it with. I’m lonely. And that’s the other thing you don’t seem to understand about me. I’m a people person. So don’t tell me I have to stop doing my own engagements.’
‘Holly, you’re exhausted.’
‘I’m pregnant,’ she said flatly, pulling her legs under her and trying hard to hide another yawn. ‘All the books say that in another couple of weeks I’ll be bounding with energy.’
‘And what are you going to do then?’ His tone was dry. ‘Work nights?’
Her eyes collided with his and Holly sucked in some air, horrified to discover that the mere mention of the word ‘night’ was sufficient to trigger a reaction in her body. Her nipples tightened, her pelvis ached and she suddenly felt as though she’d downed an entire bottle of champagne in one gulp.
Clearly tracking the direction of her thoughts, he gave a slow, confident smile and suddenly she wanted to thump him because he was unreasonably, unfairly gorgeous, and he knew it.
As his gaze welded to her mouth, Holly acknowledged the overwhelming surge of excitement with something close to despair. ‘Don’t look at me like that. You’re doing it again—all you think about is sex.’
‘And what are you thinking about right now, tesoro? The share price?’ His tone was mocking as he pulled her gently but firmly to her feet. ‘A new handbag?’
A moan of disbelief escaped her parted lips as he brought his mouth down on hers and backed her purposefully towards the bed.
This was Casper at his most dominant and she really, really wanted to be able tell him that she was too tired, or just not interested.
‘I can’t believe you make me feel this way.’ Her body exploded under the hard, virile pressure of his and she tumbled back onto the mattress, forced to admit that she was a lost cause when it came to resisting h
im.
She wanted him so much.
And if this was all their relationship was…
He came over her with the fluid assurance of a male who has never known rejection, arousal glittering in his beautiful eyes. ‘Exactly how tired are you?’
Trying to look nonchalant, she shrugged. ‘Why do you ask?’
He lowered his arrogant, dark head, his mouth curving into a sardonic smile as it hovered close to hers. ‘Because I’m about to do my virile, macho-stud thing,’ he mocked gently, and Holly felt her stomach flip with desperate excitement.
Weak with desire, hating herself for being so feeble where he was concerned, she gasped as his hand slid under the silk of her nightdress. ‘Casper.’
His hand stilled and there was a wicked gleam in his eyes. ‘Unless you’re too tired?’
Driven by the desperate urgency of her body, Holly swallowed her pride. ‘I’m not that tired…’
‘You have time to shower while I make some calls.’ Freshly shaved, his hair still damp, Casper straightened his silk tie and reached for his jacket. ‘I’ll join you for breakfast.’
Elated that he’d spent the entire night with her for the first time, and reluctant to risk disturbing the fragile shoots of their relationship, Holly decided not to confess that mornings weren’t her best time and that she couldn’t touch breakfast.
Waiting until he’d left the room, she slid cautiously out of bed, felt her stomach heave alarmingly and just made it to the bathroom in time.
‘Dio, what is the matter?’ Casper’s voice came from right behind her. ‘Are you ill? Is it something you ate?’
‘Don’t you knock? I thought I locked the door.’ Mortified that he should witness her at her lowest, Holly leaned her head against the cool tiles, willing her stomach to settle. ‘Please, Casper, show a little sensitivity and go away.’
‘First you accuse me of not spending time with you, then you want me to go away.’ Casper lifted his hands in a gesture of frustrated incredulity. ‘Make up your mind!’
‘Well, obviously I don’t want you around while I’m being sick!’
‘You’re incredibly pale.’ Looking enviably fit and impossibly handsome, he frowned down at her. ‘I’m calling a doctor.’
‘Casper.’ She gritted her teeth, terrified that she’d be ill in front of him. ‘It’s fine. It happens all the time. It will fade in a minute.’
‘What happens all the time?’ His dark gaze was fixed on her face, the tension visible in his powerful shoulders. ‘I’ve never seen you like this before.’
‘That’s because you’re never here in the morning,’ she muttered, wondering what cruel twist of fate had made him decide to pick this particular morning to linger in her company. ‘You go to bed with me, but you choose to wake up somewhere else.’ With someone else. The words were left unsaid, but a gleam of sardonic humour flickered in his very sexy dark eyes.
‘You think I spend half the night making love with you and then move on to the next woman? A sort of sexual conveyor-belt, perhaps?’
‘I honestly don’t want to know where you go at three in the morning.’ She gave a moan as another wave of nausea washed over her. ‘Oh, go away, please. I don’t even care at the moment—I can’t believe you’re seeing me like this. You’re never going to find me sexy again.’
‘There is not the slightest chance of that happening.’ After a moment’s hesitation he dropped to his haunches and stroked her hair away from her face with a surprisingly gentle hand. ‘I am sorry you feel ill. Wash your face. It will make you feel better.’ He stood up, dampened a towel and wiped it gently over her face.
‘I already feel better. It passes.’ She sat back on her heels and gave him a wobbly smile. ‘I bet you’re regretting all those times you could have stayed the whole night and had breakfast with me. I’m thrilling company in the morning, don’t you think?’
With a wry smile, he lifted her easily to her feet. ‘Does food help? If I suggested something to eat would you hit me?’
‘I’ve never been an advocate of violence.’ It felt weird, having a conversation with him that wasn’t based on conflict. And frustrating that they were having it when she was still in her nightdress.
But at least she was wearing diamonds, she thought wryly.
Conscious of his sleek good looks and her own undressed state, Holly glanced towards the shower. ‘I think I’d like a shower. Do I still have time?’
‘Yes. But don’t lock the door.’ His tone was gruff. ‘I don’t want you collapsing.’
‘I’m fine.’ This new level of attentiveness was unsettling. There was a shift in their relationship that she didn’t understand.
But she knew better than to read anything into it.
She showered quickly, selected a cream skirt from her wardrobe and added a tailored jacket that allowed a peep of her pretty camisole. She scooped her hair up and then had a moment of agonising indecision as she remembered that he seemed to prefer her hair down. Up or down? Removing the clips, her hair tumbled around her shoulders in a mass of soft curls.
Deciding that she should have left it up, she started to twist it again and then caught herself.
What was she doing? For crying out loud, she was going to eat breakfast with the man, that was all. It wasn’t a formal dinner or a state occasion. Just breakfast.
Pathetic, she told her reflection. Absolutely pathetic.
It was just for the baby. For the baby’s sake she wanted them to have a happy, successful marriage.
Afraid to examine that theory too closely in case it fell apart, she walked onto the terrace to join him for breakfast. Casper was talking on the phone, looking lean and sleek, his hips resting casually against the balustrade that circled the pretty balcony. Behind him stretched the ocean, the early-morning sunlight catching the surface in a thousand dazzling lights.
The billionaire prince, she thought weakly, envious of his confidence and the ease with which he handled his high profile existence. She’d watched him in action at state occasions and been impossibly awed by the deft way in which he handled every situation and solved every problem. She realised now that she’d had no idea of the weight of responsibility that rested on him, and yet he apparently coped easily, with no outward evidence of stress or self-doubt.
As he continued his conversation, his eyes slid to hers and held. Electricity jolted her and Holly’s heart bumped hard against her ribs.
Wondering how he could have this effect on her when she’d just spent most of the night in bed with him, she plopped down onto the nearest chair.
She felt light-headed and dizzy and wasn’t sure whether to blame pregnancy, lack of food or the shattering impact of the extremely sexy man who was currently watching her with disturbing intensity, apparently paying no attention whatsoever to the person on the other end of the phone.
Cheeks pink, trying to distract herself, Holly cautiously examined the food that had been laid out on the table.
Terminating the call, Casper dropped his phone into his pocket and strolled across to her. ‘I’ve talked to the doctor.’
‘You have?’
‘He suggests that you eat dry toast now. And tomorrow you’re to eat a dry biscuit before you move from the bed.’
‘That sounds exciting. And guaranteed to put on extra pounds just when I don’t need them.’
Casper gave a predatory smile. ‘Since we’ve already established the positive impact of biscuits on a certain part of your anatomy, I think we can safely assume that I’m not going to find you sexually repulsive any time soon.’
‘I didn’t say you were.’
‘But you were thinking it.’ He sat down opposite her and helped himself to fresh fruit. ‘Eventually I’m hoping you’ll realise that you have a fabulous body. Then we can make love with the lights on. Or even during daylight.’
She blushed, as self-conscious about his suggestion that they make love in daylight as she was flattered by his comments about her body. ‘You’re not a
round during the day.’
‘The promise of you naked would be sufficient incentive to persuade me to ditch my responsibilities.’
‘All you think about is sex. I don’t know whether to be flattered or exasperated.’
‘You should be flattered. I’m a man. I’m programmed to think about nothing but sex.’ Apparently seeing nothing wrong in that admission, he reached across and lifted the coffee pot. ‘More?’
Holly pulled a face and shook her head. ‘I’ve gone off it. Don’t ask me why. Something to do with being pregnant, I think.’
Without arguing, he poured her a fresh orange-juice instead. ‘And now I want to know why you assumed I was spending part of the night with another woman.’
Her insides tumbled. ‘Well—it just seemed like the obvious answer.’
‘To what question?’
‘To where you go at three in the morning. Up until today, you’ve never woken up next to me. We have sex. You leave. That’s the routine.’
‘That doesn’t explain why you’d believe I was seeing another woman.’
‘You’re a man.’ She mimicked his tone, hoping that her attempt at humour would conceal the fact that she was absolutely terrified of his answer. ‘And that’s what men are programmed to do.’
‘I get up at three in the morning because I’m aware that you need some sleep,’ he said softly. ‘And if I’m in bed with you I don’t seem to have any self-control.’
Stunned by that unexpected confession, Holly felt her insides flip. ‘But by the time you leave the bed we’ve already—’ Her cheeks heated. ‘I mean surely even you couldn’t?’
‘I definitely could,’ he assured her silkily. ‘It seems where you’re concerned, I have a limitless appetite. So you see, tesoro, you don’t have to worry about the effects of daylight, biscuits, or anything else for that matter. I’m so addicted to your body I even find you sexy in a cartoon tee-shirt—not that I’d ever allow you to wear one of those again,’ he went on, clearly concerned she might decide to put that claim to the test.