The King's Bride By Arrangement (Sovereigns and Scandals, Book 2) Page 9

  He drew a slow breath and tried to concentrate. Not on sex. Not on the physical presence of the woman in bed with him. But on what to do now their relationship had exploded into something completely unrecognisable.

  Eva had always been an enigma, apparently docile and always agreeable but never allowing any degree of intimacy. Until tonight. She’d been anything but docile. She’d proceeded to blow the back right off his skull with her sexy mouth and eager hands, reducing him to slavering desperation. Not once but twice.

  And she’d been a virgin!

  How much more dangerous would she be with a bit more experience?

  Paul shuddered and tried to tell himself it was in dismay, not anticipation.

  Despite his agitated thoughts, a mighty yawn cracked his jaw as a second night without sleep caught up with him.

  The night before the ball he’d pulled an all-nighter, recalibrating the plans his advisers and his brother-in-law, Jake—a financial guru—had devised to keep St Ancilla afloat.

  Years of hard work, refinancing and ruthless expenditure-cutting meant the economy hadn’t collapsed on itself after King Hugo’s depredations. But it was still a close thing. Made particularly difficult as the full extent of those debts, which Paul had personally shouldered, wasn’t publicly known. The monarchy was the mainstay of the small kingdom and he had no intention of allowing public confidence to unravel. The good news was that, after coming close to bankruptcy, things were finally turning around.

  Paul sighed and closed his eyes for a moment. Just a moment, while he pondered this latest challenge in an already demanding kingship. How to deal with his feisty, surprising fiancée.

  Eva smiled and stretched. She felt oh, so warm and cosy. This was the softest bed she’d slept in and she was only too happy to sink into it, not wanting to stir.

  Strange. Normally she was a morning person, awake early and full of energy. But not now. She could stay here for ever. She’d never felt so good.

  Except for that curious sensation between her legs and...

  Her eyelids snapped open. She found herself staring at bright sky through a canopy of spring leaves. She frowned. This wasn’t her bedroom. It looked as if she was in a tree house or...

  Movement behind her cut off her thoughts.

  Heat, searing but delicious, right up against her body. The slide of muscled, hairy legs behind her thighs. A callused palm grazing across her hip to settle at her naked waist, a powerful arm roping her to the man behind her.

  Paul!

  The hunting lodge.

  Their naked bodies moving together. Climaxing as one.

  Eva shut her eyes, trying to regroup from the onslaught of memories. But remembering didn’t help. It merely heightened her panic.

  Her heart thumped so high against her ribs, it felt as if it were trying to escape through her throat.

  But it wasn’t merely panic she felt, was it? She made no attempt to pull away from him.

  ‘You’re awake.’ Before last night she’d had no notion Paul could sound like this. Like a lazy lion growling out his satisfaction.

  Except, as his rod slid up against her buttocks, hard and powerful, she knew he was anything but lazy, and nowhere near satisfied.

  A strange little jiggle set up inside her. A dancing, twisting sensation that felt far too much like eagerness. Because she’d learned last night how very, very good it was when Paul’s voice grazed that particular low note across her skin. Almost as good as the feel of him deep inside her or—memory hit with a shudder of delight—kneeling before her, caressing her with his mouth.

  Eva opened her lips to speak but whatever she’d been about to say disintegrated on a sigh as he cupped her breast, his hard fingers exquisitely gentle.

  ‘You like that.’ Another rumble of that deep voice. This time she felt the words as puffs of hot air stirring the hair at her nape. He leaned in and nuzzled her there, his muscled chest at her back.

  ‘So do you.’

  His erection felt huge. Had she really accommodated all that last night? A shivery feeling began at what she guessed was her womb then radiated through her whole body.

  ‘You’re right. I do.’ His teeth grazed her neck and Eva arched back, like a bow strung tight, breast pushing into his palm, backside rubbing against his erection. It was totally instinctive, unplanned, and part of her despaired that she had so little resistance. Until she heard Paul’s guttural murmur against her skin, felt his matching thrust against her and knew she wasn’t the only one acting on pure instinct.

  ‘I want you, Eva.’

  His voice had the roughened richness of whisky and it did terrible things to her brain. Even so, she had just enough sense of self-preservation left to remember that sex with Paul was no good for her. No matter how good it felt.

  She swallowed, about to tell him she wasn’t interested, when his palm left her breast and arrowed down over her belly, straight to the core of her. His hand settled there as if it belonged, sliding against dampness, easily insinuating to the very spot where...

  Her view of leaves and sunlight blurred as her body jerked against his touch.

  He kissed her shoulder. ‘Hold that thought.’ Then, before she could respond, he was gone. She heard the rustle of foil behind her and realised he was getting a condom.

  Now was the time to move. To think with her brain, not her body, and get up.

  She’d actually put her hand on the mattress, about to lever herself off the bed, when he spoke behind her. ‘You’re not sore? I’ve never been with a virgin. I don’t want to hurt you.’

  Eva paused, her heart squeezing. She told herself it made no difference that Paul was concerned about her. That he wasn’t totally driven by his own carnal needs.

  Yet it did make a difference.

  ‘Eva? You are okay, aren’t you?’ He was close again, capturing some of her hair and drawing it aside to reveal one side of her face and a shoulder.

  There it was again. Concern. Caring. Her well being mattered to him.

  Yeah, because when he washes his hands of you he doesn’t want any excuse to feel bad.

  Strangely, the bitter thought didn’t overwhelm her. Instead it made her feel stronger.

  At least she knew exactly what she meant to him. She wasn’t his possession, or his responsibility. She was an independent woman and could choose as she wished, do what she wished.

  Sternly, she banished the voice that told her being intimate with Paul would only make things harder to bear later. She’d worry about later when it came. After all, the damage was already done. Why not do what he did and enjoy the moment?

  ‘Of course I’m okay. I’m not a porcelain doll.’

  Even so, for the longest time he didn’t move. She felt him watching her, staring at her profile, as if searching for some sign that she wasn’t okay at all.

  Briefly, the thought entered her head that she should turn to him and tell him how she felt. That, at least, would solve the issue of keeping her distance from him so as to avoid more hurt. Because hearing a declaration of love would be guaranteed to cool his ardour. But, perversely, Eva didn’t want him to pull back. Her need for him was stronger, not weaker.

  Even her anger at him for not reciprocating her feelings only served to fuel her need.

  So, instead of turning her head to look up at the man peering over her shoulder, Eva arched her back again so her buttocks pushed against hard male flesh and she heard his rough intake of breath.

  Triumph filled her. In this at least she had power. She felt it thrum through her as his hand clutched convulsively at her hip and his body slid against hers.

  Tentatively she wriggled her hips, as if getting more comfortable on the bed, and was rewarded with something that sounded like a groan.

  ‘Unless you’re not up to it,’ she purred, gaze focused on the flickering leaves beyond the w
indow. ‘I’ll understand if you feel too tired.’

  Paul growled something under his breath. Something gruff and low. Then his hand moved from her hip to other, far more sensitive places and Eva lost any interest in talking.

  This time their coupling was so easy, it amazed her. Not only was there no pain but it seemed so simple, so right, even that first thrust stole her breath. The perfection of them moving together, finding their rhythm, dazzled her.

  Paul was still behind her when she felt his climax begin. She stared blindly in the direction of the tree tops outside. Yet in her mind’s eye it was Paul she saw, his strong throat arching as he shouted his release, his eyes glittering like dark sapphires.

  A sob broke from her throat, her heart aching. He was the man for her, the only one she’d ever wanted. That thought and the ache it brought died as with one final surge he drew her down into rapturous pleasure.

  Eva’s orgasm was drawn out, lingering and potent. She had no doubt what made it so amazing was the fact she shared it with the man she loved. That was the definition of bliss.

  Finally, they lay together, quaking yet boneless. As the rapture faded, she felt a tear track across her cheek.

  She didn’t raise a hand to wipe it away. She didn’t have the energy. And Paul wouldn’t notice. He lay spooned behind her, his face buried in her hair.

  Well, what was one tear? She’d permit herself that single sign of weakness. After this there’d be no leeway. She couldn’t afford any slip-ups that might betray her true feelings.

  She’d be dry-eyed and completely controlled when they separated.

  It was late when Paul finally roused again. He peered out at the lowering sky and steady drizzle and wondered how long he’d slept.

  Two nights with little sleep had caught up with him. And a couple of stupendous climaxes. He yawned and tried to focus. He hadn’t meant to sleep again. Even in this grey light he could tell the day was well advanced.

  He turned his head to see if Eva was awake, only to discover the bed empty.

  He shot up, heart thumping.

  One thing he’d learned last night was never again to take Eva for granted. Far from being predictable, she’d turned his world on its head in less than a day.

  A second later he was on his feet, prowling the room. There were his clothes, flung anyhow across the floor. But not Eva’s.

  Paul swung his head round, peering into corners, but found nothing. Not a trace of her. The open door to the bathroom showed she wasn’t there.

  His gut clenched in a way that told its own story. Concern, annoyance and something like fear brewed deep inside.

  Where had she gone? They needed to talk, now more than ever. Important issues were in the balance. Besides, he realised, raking his hand across his scalp, he needed to make sure she was okay.

  Inevitably his gaze trailed back to the bed and the small but telling spot on the rumpled sheet. A reminder, as if he needed it, that he hadn’t merely taken a lover last night. He’d deflowered a virgin. While Eva had seemed fine earlier this morning—more than fine, in fact—he couldn’t kick the concern weighing on him. She’d been as enthusiastic as him for morning sex but was she now regretting it?

  Where was she?

  The woman he’d once thought he knew had changed. There was no saying what she’d do or where she was. Maybe she’d gone, leaving him behind as she’d done last night, heading off alone and unprotected for that nightclub.

  The thought made his hackles rise and every protective instinct kick in.

  A second later he was taking the stairs two at a time.

  He found her in the kitchen, barefoot and wearing the short, satiny dress that clung to her curves.

  Paul swallowed and stopped in the doorway.

  She stood at the coffee machine. It was a large commercial-grade one but she looked as at home as she did gracing a royal ball.

  Her hair was up, but not in its usual, almost severe style. It was bunched up loose and low, looking as if one quick tug would make it tumble free.

  Paul had instant recall of the texture of those long tresses against his skin. He’d never made love to a woman with hair like Eva’s. Hadn’t realised how incredibly alluring those long swathes of silk could be.

  He drew a sharp breath, pungent with the aroma of fresh coffee and the lingering scent of Eva.

  Hell! They needed to have a serious discussion, and here he was, imagining her naked in bed with him. Or not even naked. Memory hammered into him of Eva on that huge, scrubbed wooden table, her thighs warm around him, her head flung back and breasts thrusting forward as she rode out the orgasm he’d given her. So beautiful. So...

  ‘Paul!’

  She swung round, a cup in her hand, and was staring at him as if she’d never seen him.

  If he’d hoped for a smile or any sort of welcome he was doomed to disappointment. His lover—his lover. Satisfaction stirred at the thought—was frowning as if wondering why he was here.

  Pushing back his shoulders, Paul sauntered into the kitchen, the old flagstones smooth beneath his feet.

  ‘That smells amazing. Can you make me some too?’

  For a moment she didn’t speak, just stared at him with wide eyes the colour of the wintry sky outside.

  And hello to you too.

  It had been a long time since Paul had done a morning-after but he recalled them being a whole lot more affectionate than this. Eva looked at him as if he were something conjured from a nightmare.

  Except... Her gaze skittered from his, down, a long way down, then up again, slowly. The tip of her tongue caught at the corner of her mouth and her nostrils flared as she breathed deep.

  When she met his eyes again, she looked a little dazed. Or was that masculine ego talking? He almost forgave her for that initial horrified look.

  He covered the rest of the space between them to stand a breath away from her. She smelt like coffee and that distinctive green floral scent of hers. And the memory of rapture.

  A frisson of arousal shuddered through him and he contemplated deferring chitchat for something more satisfying.

  ‘Of course.’ Her voice was crisp, at odds with the expression on her face. ‘I’ll make it while you get dressed.’ Her gaze dropped as far as his shoulders then quickly rose.

  ‘That’s okay. I’ll wait for it. Besides, we have things to discuss.’

  Because those furtive glances gave the lie to her tone. She might want to pretend nothing had happened between them but Paul refused to let her retreat again, acting as if they were no more than polite strangers. He’d stop her from re-erecting those barriers if he had to stand here, naked, for the next hour.

  She swallowed, and abruptly she didn’t look distant but vulnerable.

  ‘I’d prefer it if you were dressed.’ Her breath was a barely audible sigh. ‘You’re too distracting like that.’

  ‘Good.’ He leaned down and brushed her lips with his, then lingered as he tasted her. His hand lifted to her cheek, his knuckles sliding down soft flesh.

  ‘Careful!’ She jerked back. ‘I don’t want to spill coffee on you. Really, you should get dressed.’

  Her gaze left his face and focused on his groin where, even after their earlier, vigorous activity, his burgeoning interest was evident.

  Paul’s mouth curved. That was better. Eva looked anything but distant now. Her eyes were round and her lips parted. She looked adorable.

  ‘On one condition.’ Her head jerked up and their gazes meshed. ‘That when I come back downstairs you stop trying to put up barriers between us. We need to talk frankly with each other, Eva. No holding back. No pretending last night didn’t happen. Okay?’

  She hesitated then nodded. ‘Okay.’

  Paul turned and strode to the door, giving Eva a perfect view of his muscled back and taut glutes. Even after last night’s intimacies
, she was stunned by the sight of him naked.

  It was a sight she was pretty sure she’d carry for the rest of her days.

  Eva put her coffee down with a hand that trembled and turned on the tap, putting her wrists under the flow of cool running water, then lifting them to her cheeks. Heat had bloomed inside the instant he’d appeared stark naked and overwhelmingly, stunningly gorgeous.

  Paul didn’t fight fair. Standing there looking like...like...

  She shook her head and gave up trying to think of a word. When she’d turned round and seen him in the doorway, her brain had emptied. When she’d recovered it was to the realisation that making love to him had indeed left her more vulnerable than ever before.

  He’d been semi-erect again, and she’d been torn between fascination and horror at the messages her traitorous body sent to her brain. To forget pride and common sense, and the fact that he didn’t want her long term, and offer herself to him again. Even though she needed to break her ties to him, not make them stronger.

  She closed her eyes, trying and failing to banish the image of that powerful body and potently attractive grin.

  He was incredibly sexy, yet it wasn’t just that. Her hormones responded predictably to the picture he presented, all virile male, but she’d noticed something more than invitation in his expression. He was concerned about her.

  Eva firmed her lips. The last thing she needed was for him to come over all honourable and worried about the fact she’d been a virgin. She might long for him with all her heart but last night had seen a shift in her. Better, she realised now, to move on than stay with a man who’d never reciprocate her feelings.

  Straightening from the sink, she took out another cup and turned to the coffee machine.

  They’d have the discussion he wanted.

  She’d agree to end the engagement, stay while they sorted out a suitable press release then return home.

  And do what?

  Stunned, she stood frozen as revelation sank into her.