The King's Bride By Arrangement (Sovereigns and Scandals, Book 2) Page 16

  It wasn’t suave or practised. This kiss was too full of urgency and a relief that teetered on the brink of fear that any second now she’d push him away.

  Teeth rubbed, lips and noses squashed, but it didn’t matter. Because the desperation wasn’t just his, it was hers too. He felt it in the clutch of her hands and the arch of her body.

  ‘Eva...’ he breathed against her mouth, tilting her head back with his hand so he could pepper her face then her throat with urgent kisses. ‘I need you, darling. I can’t...’

  He couldn’t say it. I can’t let you go.

  Instead he showed her with his mouth, his hands, his body pressing against hers, how much he needed her.

  Her hands were in his hair, fingers tunnelling across his scalp, dragging his head lower as if she feared he might try to escape.

  Paul worked his way back up to her mouth and kissed her hard, tongue tangling with hers, and still he couldn’t get enough of her.

  He needed more. So much more.

  Wrapping both arms around Eva, he hoisted her off the ground, still kissing her. With eyes barely slitted open, he covered the space between door and bed. The back of her legs hit the mattress and they tumbled down.

  Eva’s robe came unfastened in the manoeuvre and he slipped one hand past woven silk to skin just as soft and luxurious. His fingers spread wide, covering her hip then sliding across her abdomen.

  ‘Paul.’ It was a husk of sound. So raw and soft he couldn’t tell if it was entreaty or protest. Reluctantly he opened his eyes and lifted his head.

  Her gaze captured his, misty blue and approving. Her hands moved down from his shoulders and tugged at his shirt, dragging it open regardless of buttons.

  Triumph stirred. And something more profound. His chest welled with it, his arteries fizzed and his mouth curved up into a smile that dragged already taut flesh even tighter.

  He cleared his throat, intending to tell her how much she meant to him. But she leaned in and bit him on the side of the neck, right at the most sensitive spot, then suckled there, soothing the pinprick of hurt with a lavish wave of erotic delight.

  Paul’s heart hammered so fast it seemed to tumble in his chest. Especially when she pushed him a little to one side, enough to tug at his belt.

  He’d been intending to take this slow, to seduce her by slow degrees till there was no possibility she’d consider—ever—the idea of leaving him. His intentions disintegrated at the feel of her fumbling at his waist. Instead he reached into his back pocket and withdrew the condom he’d got into the habit of carrying these last weeks—in case the opportunity to use it arrived.

  This time, despite Eva’s questing hands, he managed to ditch his shoes, socks, underwear and trousers, though his shirt still hung open off his shoulders as he settled between her bare thighs.

  The blurring urgency of the last few moments stilled as they lay together, Eva’s robe wide open so he could feast his eyes on her bare breasts bobbing high with each shallow breath. But, delightful as the sight was, Paul’s attention kept going back to her blue-grey eyes. The warmth and emotion he saw there.

  This was more than a carnal coupling. Eva’s expression told a story that felt familiar. Surely it matched what he felt?

  That moment of wondering, of profound feeling, seemed to last for ever. But Paul was only human and now Eva’s hands moved again, her legs sliding further open, so he sank lower between her hips.

  ‘Eva, I—’

  ‘Paul, please...’

  Propped above her, he lifted his hand to her face and brushed a strand of hair back. He trailed his fingers down her brow and her cheek, undone by the welling tenderness he felt for this woman.

  Who moved first, he didn’t know, but that first slight shift shattered the stillness. They came together easily, every tilt of the body, every caress of hands and lips, stoking an incredible intensity of feeling. As if in slow motion, Paul registered each exquisite sensation, even as their rhythm quickened. Till, finally, it was too much. Taking this slowly wasn’t possible when every touch felt so good. They felt so good together.

  Eva’s fingers dug into his shoulders and she arched against him in a move that tore the last of his control and left him hovering on the brink.

  He heard his name shouted in ecstasy, and then she was bucking against him, dragging him over the precipice with her into piercing, perfect bliss.

  A long time later, with Eva dozing at his shoulder, Paul decided he had to move. He needed to dispose of the condom. The difficulty was that his bones felt like overcooked noodles and he wasn’t sure he could stand.

  Moving slowly, so as not to wake her, he slid from the bed and rose, taking a moment to adjust to the world again. He felt sated, exhausted, and yet his blood fizzed with elation. It felt like a weight had crumbled from his shoulders.

  A smile tugged at his mouth as he entered the bathroom.

  Eva and he still had to talk, obviously, but at least there’d be no more pretence that she didn’t want him. Whatever was holding Eva back, they’d work it out together.

  He was washing his hands when he caught sight of a box at the far end of the marble counter.

  Paul blinked. He had twenty-twenty vision and didn’t need to move closer to read the writing on it. But he did, drawn by a force that knocked any lingering satisfaction from his mind.

  A pregnancy-test kit.

  Everything inside him stilled, then his heart began to gallop.

  Was Eva pregnant?

  Was that why she was so determined to leave?

  But that would mean...

  Paul told himself it couldn’t be true.

  Yet, surely this was evidence?

  She’d tested herself for pregnancy and announced she was leaving, despite the incredible chemistry they shared.

  Because she didn’t want him to know there was a baby.

  The thought of a child, their child, brought a strange, tight feeling to his chest. As if he were full of emotions that couldn’t be contained and were bound to burst free.

  Why would she leave without telling him she was pregnant? She must know he’d support her and the child. In fact, it fed right into his plan for them to marry.

  Unless she had no intention of telling him about the baby.

  His eyes burned as he stared at the package. His gut squeezed so hard, he felt nauseous.

  He felt like he’d swallowed a knot of barbed wire.

  It went against everything he thought of her—but was it possible Eva intended to get rid of the child without even letting him know she was pregnant? Did she think so little of him she imagined he wouldn’t care about the baby they’d made? That he didn’t deserve to be informed?

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  EVA WOKE WHEN Paul got up. Not that she’d been asleep, more dazed and spent. And not wanting to be awake enough to focus on what had just happened.

  Now she couldn’t avoid it.

  Her mind raced like a hunted animal, scurrying here and there, hitting a dead end and running in another direction. But there was no escape. Whichever way she looked, and no matter how wonderful it had been, she’d just made a terrible, terrible mistake.

  Hadn’t she known intimacy with Paul would make it harder to leave? Hadn’t she withstood temptation for weeks?

  Whatever the future held she’d only get her mind round it when she was away from St Ancilla and Paul. How could she plan a career and a new life living in his shadow?

  What they’d just shared had been utterly glorious. She didn’t have words to describe it. Yet her weakness for him threatened to undermine logic and her need to escape.

  Eva sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed, fumbling at the edges of her robe and drawing them together. The belt had disappeared. Gingerly she stood on wobbly legs, holding the robe closed with one hand, looking for it.

 
She wanted to be clothed when Paul came back. Eva knew there was no escaping a discussion now. She had no hope of ejecting him from her room but she had no intention of facing him naked. She already felt too vulnerable with him.

  Movement caught her eye and she turned.

  Clearly Paul had such no qualms about nudity.

  He stood in the bathroom doorway stark naked, watching her, making no move to cover himself.

  Why should he? He was magnificent. Even in her misery Eva’s heart flipped at the sight of his rangy, muscled body and charismatic features.

  ‘You were going to leave without telling me, weren’t you, Eva?’ He folded his arms across his chest in a movement that accentuated the power of his upper body. Despite being sated and nervous, a fluttering started up in her abdomen like a thousand butterflies taking flight. As if every feminine hormone was hitting overload.

  She shut her eyes for the briefest moment and clutched her robe between her breasts.

  This had to stop. She had to resist.

  When she looked again, nothing had changed, except this time she noticed the grim lines around his flat mouth and vertical furrows above his pinched eyebrows.

  ‘If you were leaving next week there’d be no need to pack tonight. You’re planning to go tomorrow.’

  Eva followed his gaze to her open luggage and her heart sank.

  Rather than retreat, she hiked her chin up and mirrored his stance, crossing her arms defensively.

  ‘Yes, I’m leaving in the morning.’ In just a few hours. Yet thinking of her escape only brought twisting pain. ‘But I’d never leave without telling you. I was going to see you first.’

  His raised eyebrows spoke of disbelief.

  ‘I was!’

  ‘And were you going to tell me then?’

  Eva frowned. He was talking in circles. ‘I just said I was going to tell you I planned to go.’

  ‘Because you need to leave urgently?’ His voice ground down low, a flat, unsettling note that vibrated discordantly.

  ‘Well... Yes. I need to leave. I can’t stay any longer.’

  Because each day drew her closer and closer to him.

  All of St Ancilla believed the fantasy that they loved each other and if she wasn’t careful she’d start believing it too. It had taken her too long to wake up to the fact that particular fantasy was impossible. She couldn’t afford to let herself slip back into daydreams.

  ‘But you weren’t going to tell me about the baby, were you?’ It wasn’t a question. It was an accusation. Like a shard of ice slicing the thick air between them.

  Eva felt a tremor begin at the back of her skull to run all the way down, past her nape to the base of her spine. Her knees shook and she had to focus on keeping them steady enough to stand.

  Belatedly she remembered the pregnancy kit in the bathroom.

  Why, oh, why hadn’t she packed it?

  ‘Your silence is answer enough.’ More ice. Except the glare he sent her wasn’t cold, it was flaming hot. ‘What was the plan? Return to Tarentia and arrange a quiet abortion with no one the wiser? Without even telling me?’

  Eva couldn’t help it. Her jaw dropped, her mouth sagging open.

  She tried to speak but choked on the words.

  While she floundered Paul strode across the room. He stood so close he might have been about to scoop her up for a kiss. But the way he towered over her was more daunting than lover-like.

  ‘Why, Eva? Couldn’t you at least trust me with the truth after all we’ve been to each other?’ To her amazement, his voice grew gruff, as if with emotion.

  Eva blinked up at him, trying to get a fix on his mood. Anger, yes, but something else too.

  ‘It’s not like that.’

  ‘No?’ His lip curled in disbelief. ‘You mean you intended to tell me about the baby after all?’ He shook his head. ‘Your actions tell another story, Princess.’

  His tone dripped scorn and it galvanised something within her, giving her the strength she needed.

  ‘I’m no liar.’

  Except for the one great secret she’d striven so hard and so long to conceal—her love for him.

  ‘Then why not tell me about the baby?’ He stared down his supercilious nose at her.

  Eva’s hands found her hips, digging into slippery silk. Her heart pounded a protest that he should be so ready to judge her.

  ‘There may not even be a baby. I didn’t take the pregnancy test.’

  For a second longer that scowl lasted, before turning into a frown of puzzlement. He inhaled deeply, his chest rising, decreasing the distance between them.

  ‘I don’t understand.’

  Nor did she. Not really.

  Her shoulders dropped a little as she shook her head.

  ‘It’s possible I’m pregnant. But when it came to the point I discovered I didn’t want to find out.’

  ‘Eva?’ His arms dropped to his sides, and the stern lines folding the corners of his mouth turned into marks of concern rather than scorn. ‘If there’s a baby, you know I’ll be there, don’t you? It wouldn’t be the end of the world.’

  She looked up into his deep-blue eyes and felt the pull between them. If there was a baby, there’d be no escaping this. She’d be tied to Paul always, even if they didn’t marry. What hope then of moving on with her life?

  Her head spun with the whirling tangle of thoughts. The desire to bear his child versus the need to make a clean break. The ache that made her want to lean against that broad chest and surrender herself to a life with Paul versus the need to build something positive for herself—a life where one day she might be loved as well as loving.

  ‘I know you would,’ she said heavily.

  ‘And that’s not enough for you?’ His tone changed. It almost sounded like hurt vying with pride.

  When she didn’t answer, he went on. ‘I know it’s ultimately your decision whether you have a baby, but surely I deserve to know?’

  He looked so wounded, Eva wanted to reach up and cup his cheek with her hand. But she didn’t dare touch him. She knew where that could lead.

  ‘Of course I’d tell you if I were pregnant.’ She sighed, her hands leaving her hips and dropping to her sides, her shoulders slumping as defeat dragged at her. There seemed no way out of this. ‘Maybe that’s why I didn’t want to find out the truth before I left. Because I needed to get away, have time to myself before I confronted the need to tell you.’

  Eva heard Paul’s sharply indrawn breath and imagined it sounded shaky. But it was probably just the tremors racing through her own body that made it seem so. She couldn’t seem to stop them.

  ‘Why, Eva? Why do you need to get away?’ Gone was the angry man full of masculine pride. To her eyes, Paul looked as gutted as she felt.

  Because I want you to care more than you do.

  She bit her lip. There she went again, slipping back into her fantasy world. Except the jarring voice of reality wouldn’t be silenced.

  As if Paul could ever love you. You’re a convenience to him. First for your money, then for sex, and now because he realises you can share his heavy workload.

  The biting words stilled her emotional turmoil and gave her the strength to step back, putting space between them.

  Time to end this for good. The truth would do that.

  Eva was beyond counting the cost to her pride.

  She drew a slow, shuddery breath and told him.

  ‘I need to get away from you to save myself.’ Even to her own ears that sounded melodramatic as she watched Paul’s face pale.

  ‘Save yourself? I’d never hurt you, Eva. You must know that.’

  She lifted her hand towards him, wanting to smooth away the anguish lining his face, but made her arm drop without making contact.

  ‘I know you wouldn’t. Not intentionally. Just hea
r me out.’

  She snagged a fortifying breath, but it didn’t help, not when those indigo eyes were watching her with a mixture of disbelief and dismay.

  Abruptly Eva turned and made for the window, leaning one hand on the carved surround. A breeze ruffled her hair and drifted across her face. It smelled of salt and cypress pines. She pulled the robe around her and fixed her gaze on the moonlight tinting the dark sea, gathering her courage.

  In her peripheral vision she saw Paul move to the other side of the window. She sensed his impatience and his confusion.

  ‘You’d never aim to hurt me, Paul, but you do—every day.’

  He stiffened, ramrod-straight, but to his credit didn’t interrupt.

  ‘I need to get away,’ she repeated, feeling the brand of truth in each word. ‘Because I love you.’

  Was that an indrawn breath or the distant hiss of the sea?

  ‘Eva, I—’

  ‘Let me finish. Please.’ Now she’d started, it seemed almost easy to explain what she’d avoided sharing for so long.

  ‘It’s not that I fell for you the night we made love.’ It had been making love, for her at least. ‘This isn’t the result of some mad hormonal rush. I just wish it were.’

  It would be easier to deal with.

  She leaned her head against the window frame, eyes fixed on the distance. Because she didn’t want to see Paul’s appalled expression.

  ‘I fell in love with you when I was fifteen, with as little thought as any teenager gives to her first crush. But for some reason I never grew out of it. I did try.’ Her mouth curved in a brief, phantom smile. ‘After a couple of years of long-distance yearning, I dated a few guys, kissed them, even planned to lose my virginity to one of them.’

  Beside her Paul moved abruptly, straightening, seeming to grow taller, but Eva kept her eyes on the sea, glistening like molten silver.

  ‘But it never went far. I always pulled away because it didn’t feel right. Because I had my heart set on you.’ She shook her head. ‘You have no idea how thrilled I was when my parents asked if I’d be happy to marry you. It was like a dream come true.’ She paused. ‘Except, when we came here to celebrate the betrothal you were so wooden and cold. It was obvious even to me that you’d agreed out of duty. You barely even looked at me, much less smiled the way you used to.’