Harlequin Presents: Once Upon A Temptation June 2020--Box Set 1 of 2

by Dani Collins

  ‘Hester.’

  She heard his soft command and faced him. The wicked laughter in his eyes was for her alone.

  ‘Steel yourself, sweetheart,’ he muttered.

  She was ready and more willing than she wanted to admit. But he knew, didn’t he? She saw the triumph in his eyes as he bent towards her.

  This kiss lingered. This kiss lit something else—there was more than a gossamer caress, there was a hint of intent and she couldn’t stop her own response—the parting gasp of delight that allowed him in.

  But instead he pulled back. She saw his face only briefly but the smile was gone from his eyes—replaced by blazing intensity and an arrogant tilt to his jaw and suddenly he was back. Stealing a third. This last kiss was not chaste. He crushed her lips with his in a too-brief stamp of passion that promised so much more than it ought to—the sweep of his tongue commanding a response that she couldn’t withhold. Heat and power surged through her as his hands tightened—holding her firm while promising even more. Still dignified, but so, so dangerous. It was only a moment, but one that changed her irrevocably. Because she’d been the one to moan in regret when it ended. She’d never wanted it to end.

  ‘That was three, not two,’ she breathed, trying to whip up some fury but failing. She was too floored, too unstable in containing her feelings.

  ‘So sue me,’ he breathed back before laughing delightedly. ‘What are you going to do about it standing here in front of the world?’

  ‘Stop it, all the lip-readers will interpret what you’re saying and they’ll know this is—’

  ‘You stop talking. I’m not even moving my lips. Ventriloquising is a talent of mine. Learned it from a very early age. You do when you’re filmed and photographed at every possible opportunity.’

  She giggled as she knew he’d intended. ‘Is it even a word?’

  ‘You bet. Formal study required.’ He turned his head so no cameras could get between either of them and gazed into her eyes; his own were dancing. ‘Now seriously, be silent, or I’ll have to employ emergency tactics and I don’t know that it would be wise for me to do that here and now.’

  His voice had an edge and she knew what he meant. He raised his free hand and waved to the crowds, who cheered again, then he helped her down the marble steps and into the glass carriage. He sat close, his arm tight around her while she rationalised that extra kiss. He was pleased with the afternoon’s events, that was all. That kiss had been a moment of pure male satisfaction—of pleasure and power.

  ‘Hester?’

  ‘No.’ She glinted at him. ‘You’ve had more than your lifetime allowance.’ She smiled and waved to the crowd.

  ‘But—’

  ‘You can’t ventriloquise your way out of this, Alek,’ she scolded. ‘You broke the deal.’

  ‘Why, Hester Moss, are you chastising me?’

  ‘I’m no longer Hester Moss.’ She flashed her teeth at him in a brilliant smile. ‘And I’m putting on a good show, aren’t I?’

  * * *

  The woman formerly known as Hester Moss was putting on far more than ‘a good show’. She was glittering. And almost flirting. And Alek discovered he could hardly cope. All he wanted was to pull her back into his arms and kiss her again. Again. And again. And ideally everywhere. Instead he had to smile and wave and grit his teeth because there were millions watching them.

  In the safe privacy of a palace antechamber, he studied the tablet for the few minutes they’d factored ahead of the formal reception, taking time to settle his own rioting emotions the way he knew Hester did—with distraction and avoidance. But he couldn’t deny her radiance—or his primal response to her.

  He realised now—far too late—that he hadn’t noticed any other woman in days and he always noticed women. Now he didn’t seem to give a damn. He hadn’t even seen them. And it wasn’t just about ensuring Hester’s comfort in a difficult situation. It was as if she were some giant magnet, while his eyeballs were iron filings. With no will of their own they just kept focusing on her. It was as if she’d obliterated anyone else out of existence. He laughed a little bitterly to himself. Served him right, didn’t it? That he hadn’t wanted a wife at all, but now he had one and he wanted his wife more than he’d wanted any other woman? And she was so off-limits—she was effectively an employee, she was a virgin, she was clearly vulnerable because she’d been hurt somehow and was isolated now…yes, the reasons why he shouldn’t lay a finger on her were probably insurmountable. But that didn’t stop his body from wanting her anyway.

  ‘Are you okay?’ she asked.

  ‘Oh, I’m dandy,’ he mocked himself. And he had to survive spending the night with her in his wing because there was no way they could sleep in separate apartments on their wedding night.

  Was it only because she was out of bounds? As if he truly were some spoilt child who was so used to getting everything that he wanted that he couldn’t cope the first time he’d heard the word no from a woman?

  No. He simply ached to seduce her. He’d been skimming closer to seducing her with every passing day, more deeply intrigued as she’d opened up so fractionally, so slowly. Those sparks of humour, of spirit, fascinated him. He wanted to break her open and bask in the warmth and wit he knew she kept locked inside. And he wanted to test the intensity of this chemistry that made mush of his synapses, made every muscle tense and turned his guts to water.

  Instead he had to endure a long celebratory feast in front of hundreds.

  He glanced up from the screen and saw her hips and the curve of her bottom and was hit by a rush of lust so severe he had to freeze. No. It wasn’t anything as superficial as simply being told he couldn’t have something and only then wanting it. He wasn’t a child any more. He’d outgrown the pursuit of challenges just for the sake of toppling them. This was all about her. He wanted to see her melt in pleasure. He wanted her to turn to him, to offer him her luscious mouth again. He wanted to coax more of the passion he’d discovered just beneath her still surface.

  Instead he glared back at the screen.

  The world was absolutely lapping it up—they were trending on all social media sites. Images of them spiralled throughout the web—one picture, just after the kiss, was being shared hundreds of thousands of times a second, it seemed.

  When she’d smiled at him, it was like a revelation—all sparkle and beauty. It helped that her dress fitted as if she’d been poured into it—cinched at her waist and flaring over her full hips. It was absolute femininity. She was no rail-thin princess but rather a slim bundle of curves that were almost too sexy for the circumstance. The heels gave her a little extra height but she still barely made it to his shoulder. Her hair had been left mostly loose—all lush, lightly curled beauty—while the fragile tiara with its droplet diamonds added to the overall picture of princess perfection. How had he ever thought she wasn’t beautiful?

  ‘What is it?’ She stepped over and he tilted the tablet so she could see them too.

  She assessed the pictures silently, critically, showing no obvious emotion, but he knew she was thinking and feeling. He craved to know what. His heart still beat horrifically fast. Those two kisses had been the most chaste of his life—yet somehow the most erotic and they’d forced him into stealing that third. That too-brief statement of what he really wanted—to get her alone, away from all the watching people.

  As alone as they were now.

  He gripped the tablet tightly, resisting the wave of desire ricocheting through him. And the fierce regret. He wanted to start again. To forget the whole damn marriage requirement and instead take the simple pleasure of seducing her slowly and completely. All he wanted was her absolute surrender—for her to be his in the most basic sense of the word. She was the most exquisite temptation—a mystery, as the press had rightly labelled her. But the contract between them imposed rules and boundaries. He wanted to break every one here and now.
It was appalling—he’d never imagined that she’d fascinate him so.

  ‘It’s amazing what properly fitting clothes and expertly applied make-up can do,’ she muttered, oblivious to his turmoil as she swiftly scrolled through the photographs. ‘I look okay.’

  The dress and make-up merely accentuated the perfection beneath. ‘I thought you didn’t care what they think.’ He managed to push through his tension to half-smile at her.

  ‘Well, I don’t want to let you down.’

  ‘So you care what I think?’ he asked more harshly than he intended.

  She drew a slow breath and he knew she was settling her response to him, trying to keep her façade still. ‘I care about doing a good job.’

  ‘And that’s all this still is to you? Just a job?’ He didn’t want to believe that. He refused to.

  He fought the urge to haul her close—to make her flush, to make that serenity flare in a burst of satisfaction. He ached to see her shudder, to hear her scream as ecstasy overcame her. He wanted her warm and soft and smiling, no more cool, fragile façade. That first kiss had given him the briefest hint of what pleasure they could find together and had seared his nerve endings. He wanted to crack her open and release the warmth he was now certain was at her core.

  They’d effectively laughed their way back down the aisle with an intimacy built on something other than physical. It had rendered him unable to resist the need to kiss her the way he’d ached to—stealing that third kiss to feel the heat of her response.

  Now she was attempting to rebuild her personal barriers, to hide the fiercely deep feelings she didn’t want to express. But she wasn’t going to be able to deny them for too much longer. He’d felt the ferocity of her fire.

  ‘I’m sorry about the article,’ she said quietly, sidestepping his question.

  ‘Your cousins.’ He knew the one she meant. ‘They said you ghosted them,’ he said. ‘That you emotionally shut them out.’ He watched her expression stiffen and strove to reassure her. ‘Hester, I of all people know not to believe everything I read in the media.’

  ‘But it’s true.’ She lifted her chin but didn’t meet his eyes. ‘I did.’

  Defensiveness radiated from every pore and his arms ached with the urge to hold her close.

  ‘I’m sure you had good reason to,’ he said carefully.

  Now liquid gleamed in her eyes and smote his heart.

  ‘It was silly, wasn’t it? To have expected them to care for me, just because of blood.’

  He took in what she’d said. They hadn’t cared for her—they hadn’t wanted her. And she’d been so unhappy she’d run away and locked herself in that ivory tower at the university. Quietly assisting students who lived fuller lives and cared less for their studies than she did.

  ‘I didn’t think they’d speak to the press.’ Her whisper rushed. ‘I thought inviting them would…’ She shook her head. ‘I should have known better.’

  ‘They’ve gone the “friend of the family” route,’ he said, cynically aware of how the media worked. ‘So they can say it wasn’t them.’

  ‘But it was.’ She looked at him directly and he saw the hurt she’d tried to bury. ‘I’m sorry if they’ve caused problems.’ She pressed her lips together. ‘Do I have to see them?’

  ‘There’s a receiving line.’ He nodded. ‘There’ll be other eyes and ears but no cameras. We’ll keep them moving quickly. I’ll be on one side of you. Fi will be on the other.’

  ‘She’s been wonderful today.’

  ‘She understands what it’s like.’ Alek nodded, but the strain was still etched on her face.

  ‘She said she wants to stay in the States,’ she murmured.

  He let her lead the distraction, realising she needed it. ‘Yes. I want her to do whatever she wants. She seemed distracted, said it’s because she’s thinking of doing postgraduate study.’

  ‘She’s super capable,’ Hester agreed softly before turning her gaze back on him. ‘What would you have chosen?’ She inched closer. ‘To do, I mean.’

  ‘The crown chose me, Hester. That’s why we’re here.’

  ‘But if you were free? If you didn’t have to be a full-time royal?’

  The wildness clawing inside him soothed a little under her gaze. He’d always wanted Fi to have the freedom he couldn’t have. It was the sacrifice he’d made and he didn’t regret it. What he regretted right now was the tension lingering around Hester’s beautiful eyes. He never talked about all this impossibility; there was no point. But he desperately needed to stop thinking about kissing her. Distraction from difficulty was always good. And he needed to distract her too. Because that was what she was really asking him to do. So he did.

  ‘I wanted to study medicine,’ he blurted.

  ‘You wanted to be a doctor?’ Her jaw dropped and as she snapped it shut a frown furrowed her brow. ‘How was that going to work?’

  ‘I know, right? The idealism of youth.’ He shook his head.

  ‘It was a good ideal.’ She curled her hand on his arm. ‘You would have been—’ She shook her head and broke off. ‘What stopped you?’

  ‘My father.’ He smiled ruefully. ‘I didn’t ever think he’d disapprove of such a worthy profession, right? Literally trying to save people’s lives.’

  ‘You wanted to save lives?’

  Dredging this up was infinitely preferable to facing the unrequited lust shivering through him like a damn fever. And thinking of this made him feel nothing but cold.

  ‘I watched cancer slowly suffocate my mother, stealing her vitality and joy. It was horrendous and there was nothing I could do to help her. I hated feeling so inept. I never wanted to feel that useless again.’ He glossed over the most painful memories of his life. ‘And honestly, I liked science. But my father didn’t think I could get the grades—before Mother got sick I’d pretty much mucked around.’

  He’d not discussed his mother’s death with anyone, ever. Yet it was somehow easier to talk about this than acknowledge the storm of emotion swirling within him. And Hester was in a realm of her own now in his life. Maybe he was a fool but he felt he could trust her. Besides, she’d lost both her parents and that was a pain he couldn’t imagine.

  ‘What happened to her motivated me. I wanted to make a difference and I finally got my head together. I was so proud when I got the grades that guaranteed my entry into medical school. I presented them to him. I thought he’d be proud too.’

  ‘But he wasn’t?’ she whispered.

  Her words somehow pushed aside the mocking self-pity to salve the true hurt beneath. He’d laughed it off to himself in recent years, but it had never really been a joke. It had broken his heart.

  ‘He said it would take far too long to study. Eight years, minimum, before any real speciality. I had to devote more time to my country. You can’t be King and have a career. Your career is being King. Even though I didn’t expect to take the crown for a long time.’ He shrugged. ‘So obviously I couldn’t do veterinary school either. Horses were my other passion.’ His stud farm on the neighbouring island was world renowned. ‘I learned to ride before I could walk.’ He made himself brag with a brash smile because he regretted bringing this up.

  The lingering empathy in her eyes told him she still saw through to his old hidden pain but then she smiled. ‘And what other amazing accomplishments does a prince have to master? Geography, I bet. Languages?’

  ‘Five.’ He nodded.

  ‘Ventriloquism being one of them?’ Her smile quirked.

  ‘Of course.’ That tension in his shoulders eased.

  ‘Piano? Art?’

  ‘Actually I do play the piano but I can’t draw.’

  ‘Well, I’m glad to discover you do have an imperfection or two,’ she teased. ‘So what did you do after he said no to everything you wanted?’

  ‘I went into the military. Al
ways acceptable. I trained with both navy and land-based forces.’

  ‘But not air? You mean even with all your amazing accomplishments you can’t fly a plane?’

  ‘I occupied my very little spare time with polo. And other off-field pursuits.’

  ‘Women.’

  ‘I was going to say partying.’ He maintained his smile through gritted teeth. ‘I was bored and bitter and I felt stuck. I resented him for saying no to every damn thing that I truly wanted to do. So I did my work, but I had frequent blow-outs—and, yes, in part it was to piss him off.’ He glanced at her ruefully. ‘Predictable, right?’

  ‘I can understand why you’d resent him and want to rebel. It’s horrible being denied what you want all the time.’

  ‘It is.’ He glanced at her again and smiled faintly to himself. ‘I’d wanted to do something meaningful and I wasn’t allowed.’ He sighed. ‘I was angry. I was angry that Fi was so constrained. I was angry that he was always so distant and no matter what I did it was always a disappointment. He disapproved of my straight As, for heaven’s sake. What was left to do other than rebel? But then it just became a habit and what everybody expected. It sure kept Triscari in the news—I maintained our high profile. There were just other consequences as well.’

  ‘You were lonely,’ she said softly.

  ‘Hester.’ He rolled his eyes. ‘I was surrounded by people.’

  ‘People who you couldn’t really talk to. Your father was distant. Fi was too young and then you helped her get away to study, your mum had gone, there was nothing but party women and yes-men. I think that would get lonely.’

  He rubbed his shoulder. ‘You’re too generous, Hester. I revelled in being the Playboy Prince.’

  She studied him. ‘You still want to do something meaningful?’

  ‘My only job now is to be a good king for my country. I was angry about the marriage thing but perhaps, now it is done, I can get on and prove that this will all be good.’