Vows to Save His Crown

by Kate Hewitt

  ‘You never what?’

  She paused, biting her lip as she gazed at him uncertainly. ‘I’ve never been loved before,’ she confessed with a shaky laugh. ‘By anyone. But I think I could get used to it.’

  It was such a dramatic statement that Mateo shook his head instinctively. ‘Of course you’ve been loved.’

  ‘No, not really.’

  ‘Your mother. Your parents—’

  ‘No. Not like that, anyway.’

  He frowned, searching her face, looking for self-pity but finding only her usual good-humoured pragmatism. ‘What are you talking about, Rachel?’

  ‘My parents didn’t love me,’ she said simply. ‘Or at least, they didn’t like me. Which is worse, do you think?’ She posed it like an academic question.

  ‘Of course your parents loved you.’ Even though he’d rebelled as a youth, even though he’d resented being seen as unnecessary in the line to the throne, and walked away from everything as a result, he’d never doubted his parents’ love. Never. Yet Rachel spoke about her loveless parents as if she was simply stating facts.

  ‘I suppose they loved me after a fashion,’ she said after a moment. ‘I mean, they provided for me, certainly. But they didn’t act as if they loved me, or wanted me in their lives, so I didn’t feel loved.’ She shrugged. ‘But why on earth are we talking about this now? We need to go into the wedding breakfast.’

  ‘They must have loved you.’ Mateo didn’t know why he was labouring the point, only that he really hated the idea that Rachel had grown up unloved. Disliked, even. Rachel. ‘Maybe they were just reticent...’

  She rolled her eyes. ‘Okay. Sure. That’s what they were. Can we go now?’

  It was obvious she wanted to drop it, and now was hardly the time or place for some sort of emotional discussion—the kind of discussion he’d never really wanted to have—and yet Mateo was realising what a fool he’d been, to think he could separate parts of his life—his heart—like oil and water, never mixing. Marriage wasn’t like that. It was a chemical reaction, just as he’d felt in himself; two separate entities combining and becoming something new. Hydrogen and oxygen turning into life-giving water. Or perhaps caesium and water, causing a life-threatening explosion. Which was it?

  Only time would tell. And whichever it was, Mateo knew he couldn’t take the affection and the trust and the physical desire and compartmentalise them all, neatly labelled, put away in a drawer and never causing him any bother. As much as he wanted to, needed to, he couldn’t.

  And that was when Mateo knew he was in big trouble.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  RACHEL’S HEART FLUTTERED like a wild thing in her chest as Mateo closed the door of the bedroom. They were in the honeymoon suite, tucked away in a tower in a far wing of the palace, with a view of the sea shimmering under the moonlight from its high windows.

  The circular room was something out of another fairy tale—Rapunzel, perhaps—with a twisting staircase that led up to this lovely room, a cosy fire crackling in the grate, and a canopied king-sized bed draped in silks and satins of various shades of ivory and taupe taking pride of place.

  Rachel released a shuddery breath she hadn’t even realised she’d been holding. It had been a long day, an endless day, from the ceremony and coronation this morning to the formal wedding breakfast with speeches and toasts, posing for photo after photo, and then the carriage ride around the old city, and finally a ball to finish. She’d changed into another gown, the one she wore now, a strapless ball gown in taupe satin and a diamanté-encrusted band around her waist.

  At least she and Mateo hadn’t had to dance in front of everyone, although after three glasses of champagne she’d managed a simple swaying with him to a modern pop song. Mateo had smiled down at her as they had danced, but she hadn’t been able to gauge his mood, just as she hadn’t been able to all day. Just as she couldn’t now.

  He turned from the door, his expression inscrutable as he loosened his white tie. Rachel watched him, feeling like a mouse being observed by a hawk, although there was nothing particularly predatory about his cool blue-green gaze. She was just feeling uncertain and vulnerable now that they’d finally reached this moment, the moment when they were alone together. When they would truly become husband and wife.

  ‘It’s very late,’ Mateo remarked. ‘We don’t have to do anything tonight.’

  Rachel couldn’t keep disappointment from swooping inside her. Clearly he wasn’t in any rush.

  ‘We might as well get it over with,’ she tossed back at him, echoing his words from this morning that had hurt her more than they should have.

  ‘Is that how you view it?’ His lips twisted and he tossed his tie aside.

  ‘It’s not how I want to view it,’ she returned. The last thing she wanted to do was argue now. ‘I’m not trying to sound snippy, but I have no idea how you feel about this, Mateo.’

  ‘This?’

  ‘Us.’ She gestured to the bed. ‘You know.’

  ‘Sex?’ he stated baldly, and for some reason she flinched. He made it sound like some sort of physical procedure they had to perform, rather than the joyful consummation of their marriage.

  ‘Yes,’ she muttered, and suddenly found herself fighting tears. She turned away from him, not wanting him to see, but he caught her arm.

  ‘Rachel.’

  ‘What...?’ she managed thickly, blinking as fast as she could to keep the tears back. A few fell anyway.

  ‘I’m sorry. I think I’m being an ass.’

  ‘You think?’

  ‘All right. I am. I’m sorry. I don’t...’ He blew out a breath. ‘This is strange for me too.’

  ‘Not as strange as it is for me,’ she returned tartly, and he frowned at her.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I have a feeling that my experience is significantly more limited than yours,’ she informed him, knowing it needed to be said even as she wished that it didn’t.

  ‘Oh?’ Mateo gazed at her appraisingly. ‘You might be wrong.’

  She almost laughed at that. ‘I don’t think so.’

  ‘I’m not some Lothario, Rachel. Work has been my mistress more than any woman.’ His mouth curved in a crooked smile. ‘I’ve spent far more time with you than anyone else, you know.’

  ‘As gratified as I am to hear that, I still stand by my statement.’ She felt her cheeks heat as she confessed, ‘I have very little experience, Mateo.’

  His narrowed gaze scanned her face. ‘You’re...you’re not a virgin,’ he stated, not quite making it a question.

  ‘No...but almost.’

  ‘How can you be almost?’

  She pressed her hands to her cheeks, willing her blush to fade. ‘This is seriously embarrassing, you know?’

  ‘You don’t have to be embarrassed with me.’ He made it sound so obvious, but it wasn’t.

  ‘I do, especially when you turn all brooding and remote on me, and make me feel as if I don’t know you at all.’

  ‘Brooding and remote?’ The corner of his mouth lifted in a smile. ‘Just slap me when I do that.’

  ‘I might.’

  ‘Seriously, Rachel.’ He took a step towards her, his shirt open at the throat, his gaze a bit hooded, his eyes so bright and his hair so dark and his jaw so hard... He was just too beautiful. It should have been a crime. It certainly wasn’t fair. ‘Tell me.’

  ‘Tell you what? How little experience I have when it comes to this?’ She gestured to the bed.

  ‘Only if it would make you feel better, to have me know.’

  ‘One time, okay?’ The words rang out and she closed her eyes in mortification. ‘I’ve done it one time, and, trust me, it was completely forgettable.’ There. It was out. Thirty-two years old and she’d had sex once, with a guy who had turned out to be a complete cad. But she didn’t want to go into those
humiliating details now.

  ‘Okay,’ Mateo said after a moment.

  ‘Okay?’ Rachel stared at him uncertainly.

  ‘Now I know.’ Mateo shrugged. ‘It doesn’t make any difference to me. I’m not put off, if that’s what you’re afraid of.’

  ‘Not yet.’

  ‘Not ever. A lack of experience isn’t a turn-off, Rachel, trust me.’

  ‘That’s assuming you’re turned on in the first place,’ she muttered. She felt tears again, and tried to hide it. This was all getting a bit too much.

  ‘Why would you think I wouldn’t be?’

  ‘Why would I think you would?’ she challenged. ‘We’ve known each other for ten years, Mateo, and you haven’t felt anything like that for me in all that time.’

  ‘And nor have you for me,’ Mateo countered. Rachel decided to remain silent on that point. There was only so much honesty she could take. ‘It’s changed now. We’re looking at each other differently now.’

  ‘You haven’t exactly had trouble keeping your hands off me,’ she felt compelled to point out. ‘Quite the opposite. We’ve kissed exactly three times since we’ve been engaged.’

  Mateo’s lids lowered as he looked at her meaningfully. ‘We’ve done more than kiss.’

  ‘Barely. And even then you were pretty quick to haul me off your lap.’ The humiliation of that moment stung all over again, and a tear fell. She dashed it away hurriedly and Mateo swore under his breath.

  ‘Rachel, I had no idea you felt this way.’ He looked flummoxed; the colour leached from his face as he shook his head slowly.

  ‘I’m not expecting you to fall in love with me,’ she managed stiltedly. ‘Or even be wild with passion for me. I know I’m not exactly—’

  ‘Don’t say it.’ Mateo sounded fierce. ‘Don’t run yourself down, Rachel. You’re amazing. You’re beautiful. You’re my wife.’

  ‘Then show me,’ she whispered brokenly. ‘Show me.’

  Mateo held her gaze for one blazing second and then he swiftly crossed the room and, cupping her face in his hands, kissed her deeply.

  He’d kissed her before, and it had always made her senses spin. Now was no different, as his mouth slanted and then settled over hers and his tongue swept the softness inside, making her body sag and her knees weaken. He kissed her as if he knew her. And that made all the difference.

  Rachel wrapped her arms around his hard body and he pressed closer, one knee sliding between the billowing folds of her gown as his kiss took possession of her, and her spinning senses started to drown. She was overwhelmed. Overloaded. Undone. And all by one kiss.

  When he finally lifted his head to give her a questioning, demanding look, she managed the weakest smile she’d ever given.

  ‘That’s a start.’

  ‘A start?’ he growled, and he kissed her again. Deeper this time, until she was truly and utterly lost, and yet at the same time found. She’d never been kissed like this before. She’d never felt like this before. And she wanted more.

  Mateo broke the kiss to give her another one of his burning looks. Then he began to unbutton his shirt. Rachel swallowed hard.

  ‘I’ve never seen you without your shirt on before,’ she remarked conversationally, except her voice came out in a croak.

  ‘You’re going to see me with a whole lot less on than that.’

  Rachel gulped—and then thought of her wobbly bits that she wasn’t sure she wanted Mateo seeing. ‘Maybe we should move to the bed,’ she suggested. ‘Get under the covers.’

  Mateo arched an eyebrow. ‘Are you trying to hide from me?’

  ‘A little,’ she confessed. ‘Let’s face it, Mateo, when it comes to basic good looks—’

  He laid a finger against her lips. ‘I don’t want to hear it. Not one more disparaging word. This is our wedding night, Rachel, and you are a beautiful, gorgeous, sexy queen. Don’t ever forget it.’

  His finger was still against her lips as she regarded him with wide eyes. ‘I won’t,’ she whispered, and then Mateo lifted his finger from her lips and finished unbuttoning his shirt, shrugging it off his broad shoulders in one sinuous movement.

  He was breathtakingly beautiful, all hard, sculpted muscles, pecs and abs burnished and defined, making Rachel long to touch him, but she felt too timid.

  Mateo met her shyly questioning gaze. ‘Touch me,’ he commanded, and so she did.

  The trail of Rachel’s fingertips along his abdomen had Mateo’s muscles flexing involuntarily. Her hesitant caress was positively enflaming, with an intensity he hadn’t expected. He responded to this woman, and it wasn’t just merely physical. Her artless confession, her shy looks, that small smile, everything...

  It humbled him, that Rachel was so honest. She’d experienced so little in life—so little love, so little desire—and yet she’d still held onto her pragmatic attitude, her good humour. And even though the intensity of his own feeling, as well as the intimacy of Rachel’s confession, had Mateo instinctively wanting to throw up all the old barricades, he didn’t.

  Because this wasn’t about him, or at least not just him. It was about Rachel, and showing her how beautiful and desirable she was. It was about making her feel cherished and wanted, because right now Mateo realised he wanted that for her more than anything. More than his instinct for self-protection. He could give her this. He needed to give her this.

  Her fingers skimmed up his chest and she looked at him with a question in her eyes. ‘You can touch me a lot more than that,’ he told her. ‘But first we need to get some clothes off.’

  Her eyes widened and she bit her lip. She was nervous about being naked in front of him. Mateo knew that, and it felt like a gift. He would cherish it. Cherish her.

  ‘Turn around,’ he said softly, and slowly she did.

  Her ball gown had about a thousand tiny buttons from the middle of her back right down to the base. Mateo began undoing them one by one as Rachel sucked in a hard breath.

  ‘I think there’s a lovely nightgown around here somewhere,’ she said shakily. ‘Francesca picked it out...’

  ‘We’ll save it for later.’ His fingers skimmed her skin as he slid each button from its hole, revealing the smooth, silky expanse of her back. He spread his hands, enjoying the whisper-soft feel of her skin against his palms. With the last button undone, the dress fell about her waist. The gown had had a built-in bra, and so there was nothing on her top half and Mateo liked it that way.

  He reached around and filled his hands with the warm softness of her breasts, and she let out a shocked gasp at his touch. After a second she leaned back against him and he brushed his thumbs across her nipples, making them both shudder. Her gown slithered lower on her hips, and it only took one swift tug to have it falling in a crumpled heap around her calves.

  Taking a deep breath, Rachel stepped out of it, and then turned to face him, her heart—and all her fear—in her eyes. She wore nothing but a lacy slip of underwear, and a pair of stockings with lace garters. Her hair had half fallen out of the elegant up-do, and lay in tumbled, chestnut waves over her shoulders. Her cheeks were flushed, her lips bee-stung, her eyes like stars. And her body...all the blood rushed from his head as Mateo gazed upon her.

  ‘Rachel,’ he said in a voice that throbbed both with sincerity and desire. ‘You are truly beautiful.’

  ‘I feel beautiful,’ she whispered, sounding amazed, and Mateo reached for her. The press of her breasts against his bare chest was exquisite, but he wanted more. He let her go to briefly shrug out of his clothes, muttering with impatience as he fumbled with his waistcoat, the faff of his trouser buttons. Finally he was free, as nearly naked as she was, and he drew her to the bed.

  They fell upon it in a tangle of covers and limbs, and Mateo ran one hand from her ankle to her hip, revelling in the silken sweetness of her skin.

  ‘Touch me, too,’ he whis
pered and she pressed her palm flat against his chest, before an impish smile came over her face and she trailed her hand down and down, wrapping her fingers around the throbbing heat of him.

  ‘I’ve never done this before,’ she whispered as her fingers explored and stroked. ‘Am I doing it right?’

  Mateo could not keep from groaning aloud. ‘Yes,’ he told her as she continued her artless, and very effective, caresses. ‘Yes.’

  She continued to stroke and explore, her caresses becoming less and less hesitant, making his blood heat and his mind blur. He was going to lose his self-control very, very soon.

  ‘This might surprise you,’ he managed as he gently but firmly removed her hand, ‘but I am not nearly as experienced as you seem to think I am, and it has been rather a long time since I have been in this type of situation.’

  Her eyes widened as she looked at him. ‘Really?’

  ‘Really. And if you keep doing what you’re doing, our wedding night will be rather short and, I fear, even more disappointing. So let me touch you now.’

  A small smile curved her mouth as he gently pushed her onto her back. ‘All right.’

  Mateo kissed her on her mouth, savouring the sweetness of her lips, before he moved lower, kissing his way from her jaw to her throat, and then taking his time to lavish each of her lovely breasts with his full attention. The mewling sounds she made enflamed him further, and he moved lower, his tongue skimming the gently rounded beauty of her belly to settle happily between her thighs.

  ‘Mateo...’ Her fingers threaded through his hair as her hips lifted instinctively and Mateo tasted his fill.

  Rachel’s cry shattered the air as her body shuddered with her first climax. Mateo intended there to be several.

  ‘Oh, my goodness...’ she managed faintly, and Mateo smiled against her skin. ‘I’ve never...’

  ‘Now you have.’

  She laughed at that and he rolled on top of her, bracing himself on his forearms, as he looked down at her, flushed and sated, yet clearly ready for more. ‘Oh...’ she breathed as he nudged at her entrance. She wriggled underneath him, a look of concentration on her face as she angled herself upwards, ever the scientist looking for the perfect conditions for an experiment.