The Most Powerful Of Kings (Mills & Boon Modern) (The Royal House of Axios, Book 2)

by Jackie Ashenden

  CHAPTER FIVE

  THE HEAT IN the king’s piercing blue eyes was still there, but the aching, breathless tension that had stretched between them, that had surrounded his taut, powerful figure as he’d leaned against the desk, was starting to drain away.

  Anna knew she should be glad of it, but she wasn’t.

  Every nerve ending in her body had seemed to come awake as he stared at her, as he talked about seduction and sex, and about wanting to touch her.

  He’d mentioned before that she appealed to him, but not quite in so blatant a fashion. And it made her feel hot, turning the flutter inside her into an electric, thrilling excitement. Making her wonder whether a novice nun, with no experience whatsoever of men, really could seduce a cold, hard king.

  She shouldn’t be thinking such things. And if she’d really been the good, obedient servant of God she was trying to be, then she’d have told him in no uncertain terms not to speak to her like that. Then she’d have turned and walked out.

  Yet she’d done none of those things. She’d found her gaze pinned by the electric blue of his, her awareness stretching out, taking in every inch of his muscular figure and how he leaned against the desk, the sinews in his forearms corded, the fabric of his trousers stretched over powerful thighs. His shirt was open at the throat and her mouth had gone dry for some inexplicable reason at the sight of his bare olive skin and the strong, steady beat of his pulse.

  She was attracted to him; she was aware of that now in a way she hadn’t been before. She was thinking forbidden thoughts. Such as how he didn’t seem cold now or distant, but hot and so very close. What would happen if she got closer? What would he do? He’d told her he couldn’t touch her, and all the reasons he’d listed were very good reasons.

  But what about her? She shouldn’t touch him, of course she shouldn’t. He was a king and she was only a novice, not even a nun. He was also the father of her charge, which made him her boss.

  But if what he said was true about the Reverend Mother, then perhaps seducing him is part of your brief.

  The thought was so sharp and burning it seared itself into her brain.

  He perhaps couldn’t touch her, but she could touch him, couldn’t she? It might even be what the Reverend Mother wanted her to do. Of course, the Reverend Mother would never have said such a thing out loud, if what he’d said about her was true...

  These are all justifications. You just want to touch him.

  Her breath came faster now, her skin sensitised. She knew nothing very much about sex, still less about men, but yes, it was true. She did want to touch him. She very much did not want to be dismissed.

  ‘But,’ she began huskily, ‘I don’t want to leave.’

  He was very still, a great stone carving of a warrior with burning sapphires for eyes. ‘Perhaps you didn’t understand me.’ His deep, harsh voice sounded rough, as if he was talking through a mouthful of gravel. ‘Would you like me to be clearer?’

  ‘No, I understood.’ She’d taken a step before she was even conscious of doing so. ‘I just don’t want to go.’

  His gaze turned hot and that tension was back again, like a wire stretched to vibrating point between them. ‘And yet I suggest that you do.’

  ‘A suggestion isn’t an order.’ She took another slow step, her heartbeat sounding louder in her head. ‘And I’m not very good at taking orders either.’

  ‘What are you thinking, little nun?’ His voice was even deeper, a growl.

  ‘I’m thinking, what if it was true?’ Another step took her to stand right in front of him, her head tipping back so she could meet his searing blue gaze. ‘What if a novice really could seduce a king?’

  Then, before she could think better of it, she put her hand out and laid her palm on his chest.

  The look in his eyes flared with a heat that took her breath away. Or maybe it was the heat of his body that did that, seeping through the cotton of his shirt and into her palm, making her feel as if she’d put her hand against a hot stove.

  She’d never touched a man before. Were they all this hot or was it just him? And were they all this hard? Because he certainly was. He was hard as iron, but warm, like living rock.

  All the air had escaped her lungs and what little there was around her all smelled like him, salt and sunlight and a musky, masculine scent that set her heart racing.

  ‘You really shouldn’t do that.’ His voice was so deep she could feel the vibration of it against her palm.

  She searched his blunt, handsome face, noting the muscle that leapt in the side of his jaw and the tightness around his eyes and mouth. He was so powerful, so in control, and yet he didn’t look that way now. He looked pushed to the edge. Was that her affecting him so badly? Did she, with her lack of experience and lack of knowledge, really have power over him in this way?

  The idea fascinated her. She’d always been at everyone else’s beck and call, the foster child taken in and cared for not by choice, but by necessity. Her place at the convent had always felt as though it had to be earned by being quiet and good and obedient. It wasn’t hers by right or birth. Even leaving the convent and coming to Axios had been at the Reverend Mother’s behest. And she was only staying on his sufferance.

  He had the power, yet right now, with her hand on his chest, it felt as if she had some too. A different kind of power, but power all the same.

  She liked it. She wanted more.

  ‘Why not?’ she asked, her voice sounding even huskier. ‘You said you couldn’t touch me, but you didn’t say anything about me touching you.’

  His blue gaze was so hot, spearing her right through. ‘And what do you think is going to happen? That I’m just going to stand here and let you touch me? And what about after that? Do you think I’ll wait until you’ve finished and then let you walk away?’

  Something trembled deep inside her. No, she hadn’t thought about any of those things. She’d just...touched him, responding to an urge she hadn’t been able to deny or contain.

  ‘I don’t know.’ She swallowed, the heat of his body burning into her. ‘I haven’t done this before.’

  ‘I know you haven’t. Which is why I suggested that you leave, because if you’d thought it through, you’d never have touched me.’

  The trembling inside her got deeper, wider, and it wasn’t fear. She wasn’t afraid of him in the slightest; no, it was something else entirely.

  ‘Why?’ she asked. ‘What would you do?’

  He was very still for a second. Then he said, ‘This.’

  And before she could move, he reached out and pushed the fingers of one hand into her hair, then bent his head and covered her mouth with his.

  She’d never been kissed before. Never had another person’s mouth on hers. There had been the brief, dry blessings on her forehead from the nuns, but nothing more. She’d never had heat, the firm press of warm lips on hers, never had anyone cradle the back of her head the way he was doing now, so very gently. As if he was holding something precious.

  Her eyes pricked in a sudden rush of hot tears. Because she would have said that before this moment she’d never imagined being kissed. That she didn’t want to be and never had. But that was a lie.

  Everything she’d told herself was a complete and utter lie.

  She did want it. And she had imagined it. But she’d told herself it wasn’t something she could ever have so she’d shoved those thoughts away hard and pretended that such a thing had never occurred to her. Except now he was here and his mouth was on hers and the kiss was consuming her, making her aware of everything she’d never had, everything she told herself wasn’t permitted.

  And she wanted it. She wanted it all.

  She put both hands on his chest, taking his heat and hard strength for herself, then she rose up on her toes, opening her mouth to him. He tasted hot, but with a cool bite from the wine he’d been
drinking, and it was delicious. She wanted to drink from him.

  A soft moan escaped her as the kiss deepened and he began to explore her mouth with his tongue and his teeth, tasting her as she was tasting him, sipping gently from her, giving her gentle nips, testing her with his tongue.

  Her fingers closed, gripping the warm cotton of his shirt, even as she felt his hand close around her hair as if in answer. The tug on it felt so good, small bolts of sensation that made her breath catch—what little breath she had left. Which wasn’t much. He was taking it all, but she didn’t care. She’d give it all to him. Everything he wanted, she would give.

  It felt as if she’d been waiting for this moment, for him, her entire life.

  ‘Little nun,’ he whispered roughly against her mouth. ‘Anna. We must stop.’

  No, she didn’t want to stop. She wanted to keep going, to have him kissing her, holding her, to have the extraordinary heat and hard press of his body against hers for as long as she could stand it. To have the sense of loneliness that had always dogged her become muted and dull beneath his astonishing kiss.

  She clung on, seeking his mouth, trying to follow him as he lifted his head, only to be brought up short by the grip he had on her hair.

  The blue of his eyes was electric, blazing with heat, but there was only iron in his voice when he spoke. ‘We have to stop. We can’t do this.’

  ‘Why not?’ Her voice was husky and a little raw, and she couldn’t make her hands work, her fingers keeping their grip on his shirt.

  The flame in his eyes burned everywhere it touched. ‘So many reasons.’

  ‘I don’t care.’ Her throat closed. She didn’t want to give him up. Didn’t want to lose this sense of connection, this feeling of closeness with another person. No, not just with another person, with him. ‘Please, sire.’

  ‘Anna...’

  ‘I want you.’ She couldn’t hide her desperation. Didn’t want to hide it from him. She wanted him to know what this meant to her. ‘Please. I need...this. I need you.’

  The blunt lines of his face were no longer expressionless but taut and sharp. As sharp as the blue of his eyes, relentless and fierce. ‘You don’t know what you’re asking for.’

  ‘Then show me.’ She leaned into him, finally releasing the hold she had on his shirt, spreading her hands out on the hard warmth of his chest, pressing into it, loving the feel of him under her palms. ‘Please, sire.’

  He muttered a curse under his breath, a rough sound that echoed through her. His body tensed, his muscles tight, and she wanted to run her hands over him, to soothe him. Did he have anyone to do that for him? Did he have anyone to ease that tension? That tiredness she’d seen in him... Did he have anyone who gave him pleasure?

  He probably has hundreds of women, you fool. He’s a king. He could have anyone he wanted.

  Yes, but he wasn’t with just anyone now. He was with her. And it was her hair he had his hand in, her hands on his chest. And it was her he was looking at.

  ‘You’re a virgin,’ he said. ‘You’ll be taking your vows. You’re under my protection. Taking you like this, now, would be a violation of all those things.’

  ‘I don’t care.’ And she meant it. She couldn’t bear the thought of him letting her go and stepping away. All his heat withdrawing and all his strength, like a tide going out, leaving her high and dry. And lonely. Always lonely. ‘I want you so much.’ Her throat closed with the force of her emotion and she tried to swallow it down, realising belatedly that perhaps revealing herself so openly was a bad idea.

  But perhaps he knew anyway, because his other hand cupped her cheek. For all his massive strength he was gentle, his big palm so warm and reassuring that she wanted to weep. ‘Anna.’ He said her name huskily, the sound of it whispering over her, the expression on his face softening just a fraction. ‘You will care. When it’s over, you’ll care very much.’

  Her heart felt full, pushing against her ribs, each beat painful. ‘Don’t tell me how I’m going to feel. You don’t know. I’ve never had this before. Never felt it before. And yes, I’ll be taking my vows, but I don’t need to be a virgin to take them.’

  Some emotion she didn’t understand flickered over his face. ‘And how will you feel afterwards? When I pretend it never happened? That none of this did? When you go back to being my daughter’s companion and a trainee nun? Because that’s what will happen. You can’t be my lover, not openly, not given my position, and that’s to protect both of our reputations. I will not acknowledge you as anything more than my daughter’s companion and one of my godmother’s charges. My job is to protect people and that includes you.’

  She understood and it all made perfect sense. Of course he wouldn’t be able to acknowledge her, just as she wouldn’t be able to acknowledge him. He had a position to protect just as she did, and a country to lead.

  ‘I understand,’ she said thickly. ‘I really do.’

  ‘Do you?’ His voice had become harsh. ‘I have a duty to my country. If word got out that we were lovers, it would reflect very badly on both of us. I cannot be seen as a man who took advantage of someone weaker and more vulnerable, and that’s how people would view it. And those that don’t would look at you with suspicion. They would view you as a gold-digger or worse.’

  She took a little breath as the implications sank in, because no, she hadn’t thought of any of that. But again, it made sense. And it did nothing to calm either the desperation or the hunger inside her.

  Except...he had much to lose. More than she did. If it got out that she’d had a king for a lover, the worst that would happen would be disappointment from the nuns and from the Reverend Mother. But for him, with a country to lead...

  Her gut lurched. She couldn’t ask it of him. It was wrong of her. She didn’t care about the nuns’ disappointment in her—they were always disappointed in her—not when all she could think about was him.

  She swallowed the bitterness that collected in the back of her throat at the unfairness of it all. ‘Okay. I wouldn’t want to put you in a bad position. I’m sorry. I should have—’

  His hand in her hair tightened, cutting her off, his blue eyes blazing. ‘I didn’t say no.’

  Everything in her went still and quiet.

  Keeping his gaze on hers, he lowered his hand from her cheek, dropping it down to the small of her back and settling it there, heavy and sure. Then he eased her closer, fitting every inch of her up against every inch of him.

  The heat between them was searing, burning her, but she didn’t want to pull away. No, she only wanted to get closer, press harder against him, take more, take it all... ‘What are you doing?’ she asked breathlessly. ‘I thought you said—’

  ‘I know I did. And all of that is true. I want you to understand the implications and the consequences.’ He eased her even closer, so her hips were pressed to his and she could feel the long, hard ridge of his arousal. ‘Because I want you, little nun. I want you very badly. And you need to decide if you still want to go through with this, because if you don’t, you need to tell me now and tell me very clearly, so there can be no doubt.’

  He felt so good, hard and hot, and so strong. She wanted to surround herself with that heat, with his power and strength, have him burn out the loneliness that sat inside her, melt the ice in the centre of her heart.

  She understood the implications, and the consequences, and even though a part of her knew that she didn’t, not really, she found she didn’t care. She wanted him. She wanted this moment, because she knew she’d never have it again. If she turned her back and walked out of that door, she would lose something precious and she would never get it back.

  So she didn’t think and she didn’t hesitate. She simply slid her hands up his broad chest and around his neck, rose up on her toes, and claimed his mouth, giving him her answer.

  She tasted exactly the way he’d thought she
would. No, better. If that was even possible. Sweet, like strawberries on a summer’s day, or the fizz of very good champagne, the bubbles bursting on his tongue. Sweet, yes, but with the most delicious bite.

  He shouldn’t have kissed her, shouldn’t have let her touch him. Because the moment she had, he knew he wouldn’t be able to let her go. Definitely, he should have stopped himself from teasing her, taunting her, or daring her into challenging him.

  But he’d never thought she would want him so badly, that she’d hold tight to him, her mouth hungry under his. He’d never expected that there would be tears in her eyes as he tried to put her from him, looking at him as if she were dying and he were her last chance of rescue. And he’d never realised that all of those things would get through his defences the way they had, making his control feel as tenuous as smoke, silently slipping through his fingers.

  That could not be allowed. He had to get it back again and there was only one way to do that.

  As if any of this is about your control. You just want her.

  But he shoved those thoughts away. They didn’t matter right now, because her mouth was on his and she tasted hot and it had been a long time, such a very long time, since he’d had a kiss this sweet. This tantalising and delicious.

  Her body against his was soft and warm, a musky feminine scent winding around him and he was so hard he ached. He mostly preferred his women toned and athletic, because he was a hard man, and demanding. But she was all softness and womanly curves, and he wanted to sink into her, take all that sweetness for himself.

  He pushed his fingers further into her hair, the little bun at her nape unwinding, spilling silk all over his skin as he held her steady to take the kiss deeper. She made another of those little throaty moans, pressing delicately against him as she tried to kiss him back. Her tongue was hesitant at first and then got bolder, exploring him as much as he was exploring her.

  If he wasn’t careful, this inexperienced, sheltered little nun would undo him.

  He shifted, picking her up in his arms and carrying her over to the long leather couch. Then he sat down on it with her in his lap. Her hair was hanging down her back, pale as moonlight over her skin, and she kept trying to kiss him, her breathing out of control and ragged in the silence of the room.