When she came to, her upper body was draped over the side of the bed, Zak’s arm around her waist holding up as he dragged her panties down her legs.
‘I’ve dreamt of taking you like this,’ he rasped, his voice barely discernible through the miasma of lust. ‘Do you want this, Principessa?’
‘Please,’ she begged.
He gave a gruff exhalation, then came the sound of him impatiently disrobing.
One hand caressed her from nape to spine, then with a firm grip on her waist Zak thrust deep into her liquid core.
Pleasure lit up her spine, making Violet toss her head as he stroked inside her.
‘Dio mio, you’re so beautiful. Exceptional.’ Words tumbled from his lips, alternately in English and Montegovan, every time driving her closer to another peak of wonder that robbed her of the ability to breathe.
All she could do was grip the sheets, her cries urging him on until with a soul-deep scream she gave herself over to deeper, more intense bliss.
Zak followed close behind, wrapping his body around hers and holding her tight as his guttural shouts echoed alongside hers, filling the room with the ferocity of their pleasure.
He held on tight to her as she floated, weightless, through her climax. When they were both spent, he eased her back onto the bed before joining her and draping her over his body.
Violet’s heart dipped alarmingly when he drifted soft kisses over her face and tucked her head beneath his chin. It was a world removed from the aftermath of their coming together in Tanzania. So...special that Violet didn’t even want to breathe, lest the moment be ruined.
‘You’re deafening me with how hard you’re thinking, carissima.’ He caught his finger beneath her chin and lifted her gaze to his. ‘Don’t tie yourself in knots over this.’
‘Fine, then distract me,’ she said.
It was like offering the Big Bad Wolf a feast. Pure male anticipation dripped from his blinding smile. ‘Oh, the things I have in mind for you...’ He kissed her deep and long, and then reluctantly pulled back. ‘But for now it would please me if you rested.’
Almost as if her body was designed to obey his every command, a pleasant sort of weariness swept over her. And with her arm wrapped tight over his waist she slept.
While she hadn’t quite doubted his words, Violet had no frame of reference for what Zak meant. She could only bear slack-jawed witness to both his sexual prowess and the sheer depth of his intelligence over the next seven days.
By specific instruction, or simply because they were trained that well, the staff kept a discreet distance as Zak introduced her to sensual pleasure all over his villa.
And they talked. Politics, diplomacy and her favourite subject—conservation. Deep, illuminating conversation that challenged and enlightened.
While he was reluctant to revisit the subject of his father, she gleaned that he adored his mother, perhaps even appreciated her more for her strength in the face of scandal and betrayal.
It was in the aftermath of one such exchange that a kernel of apprehension sprouted. Because it was basking in the spotlight of his full attention, revelling in another heated debate while he caressed her body, and his growing reluctance to leave her side for any length of time that made Violet start to fear for her heart.
In those moments her yearning for him bloomed, threatened to scatter wild and free. To open her most secret emotions to this god of a man with almost overbearing intelligence and faultless pedigree.
The man who leaned attentively closer when she made a point, who challenged her opinion and nodded with appreciation when she succinctly delivered it. Who held her in his arms while she pretended to sleep, the fear that she was losing herself in him leaving her wide awake and terrified. Because she was right, after all. The man beneath the princely surface was the man she wanted for herself. The father she craved for her child.
So it was with mingled relief and trepidation that she opened her eyes on the seventh day since their little tryst and truce began. She struggled not to read anything into the fact that it was the only day she’d woken alone in all that time.
Their lovemaking had been even more intense the night before, the unspoken knowledge that this was their last night together driving the need to extract the most from their last encounter. She’d lost count of how many times she’d shattered with ultimate bliss, had been boneless when Zak had lowered them both into a soothing bath, had washed and dried her body before placing her back in his bed.
The conflicting thoughts stayed with her as she readied herself for breakfast. Dressed in a knee-length yellow wraparound dress, she sat at her dressing table, her fingers tight around her hairbrush.
Zak hadn’t asked her to marry him at any point in the last seven days and, perversely, the absence of it had only made her obsess over it.
Would marriage to him be so bad?
He was a royal with billions at his disposal, but he was as committed to conservation and preservation as she was. Could they make a marriage work based on common interests and amazing sex alone or was she deluding herself?
What about her mother?
Margot had gone suspiciously silent in the last few days. The tabloids had been equally silent on her mother’s activities, an unusual occurrence since Margot lived for the society pages. Unease slid down Violet’s spine as she set the brush down and left the room.