Crowned for the Prince's Heir

Once inside the suite, she didn’t bother putting the lights on. She stood at the window and watched as the storm split open the skies. Forked lightning streaked like an angry silver weapon against the menacing clouds and the sound of thunder was almost deafening. But after a while she didn’t even see the elemental raging outside because the tears which were streaming down her face made her vision blurry. She dashed them away with an impatient hand, unsure of what to do next. Should she get ready for bed? Yet wouldn’t lying on that monstrous mattress in her nightgown make her even more vulnerable than she already felt?

So she rang for some camomile tea and had just finished drinking it when the doors were flung open and the silhouetted form of her husband stood on the threshold. He was breathing heavily and his body was hard and tense as he stared inside the room. She could tell that he was trying to adjust his vision to the dim light, but when he reached out to put on one of the lamps, she snapped out a single word.

‘Don’t.’

‘You like sitting in the dark?’

‘There’s nothing I particularly like right now, Luc. But somewhere near the top of my dislikes is having you try to control the situation yet again. If anyone’s going to put the light on, it’s going to be me. Understand?’ She snapped on the nearest lamp, steeling herself against the sight of his powerful body in the immaculate dress suit as he shut the door behind him with a shaking hand. And even though she felt the betraying stir of her senses, her anger was far more powerful than her desire. ‘Do you want to tell me what I’ve done wrong?’ she demanded. ‘What heinous crime I’m supposed to have committed?’

She could see the tension in his body increase and when he spoke, his words sounded as if they had been chipped from a block of ice. ‘Why the hell did you wear that necklace without running it past me first?’

For a moment she blinked in surprise. Because he’d told her to choose some jewels from the royal collection. Because Eleonora had drawn her attention to the undoubted star of the collection and quietly suggested that she ‘surprise’ her husband. Lisa opened her mouth to tell him that, but suddenly her curiosity was piqued. ‘I didn’t realise I had to run it past you first. You made no mention of any kind of vetting procedure. What was wrong with me wearing it?’

There was a pause as his face became shuttered and still his words were icy-cold. ‘That necklace was given to my mother by Princess Sophie’s mother. My mother wore it on her wedding day. It was—’

‘It was supposed to be worn by Sophie on the day of her marriage to you,’ finished Lisa dully, her heart clenching. ‘Only you never married her, like you were supposed to do. You married a stranger. A commoner. A woman heavy with your child who appeared at the ball tonight looking like some spectre at the feast. The wrong woman wearing the jewels.’

Her remarks were greeted by silence, but what could he possibly say? He could hardly deny the truth. Lisa ran her tongue over her lips. She supposed she could tell him it had been Eleonora’s subtle lead which had made her choose the rubies, but what good would that do? She would be like a child in the classroom, telling tales to the teacher. And it wouldn’t change the facts, would it? That she was like a cuckoo in the nest with no real place here. An outsider who would always be just that. The human incubator who carried the royal heir. Reaching up, she unclipped the necklace and pulled it from her neck, dropping it down onto a bureau so that it fell there in a spooling clatter of gems.

But as her anger bubbled up, so did something else—a powerful wave of frustration, fuelled by the sudden violent see-sawing of her hormones. For weeks now she’d been trying her best to fit in with this strange new life of hers. Night after night she had lain by his side, staring up at the ceiling while he had fallen into a deep sleep. She had been polite to the servants and tried to learn everything she could about Mardovia—only now he was treating her with all the contempt he might have reserved for some passing tramp who had stumbled uninvited into his royal apartment. How dared he? How dared he?

‘Well, damn you, Luc Leonidas!’ she cried, and she launched herself across the room and began to batter her fists hard against his chest. ‘Damn you to high heaven!’’

At first he tried to halt her by imprisoning her wrists, but that only made her kick even harder at his shins and he uttered something soft and eloquent in French—before swooping his mouth down on hers.

His kiss was hard—and angry—but his probing tongue met no resistance from her. On the contrary, it made her give a shuddering little moan of something like recognition—because she could do anger, too. So she kissed him back just as hard, even though he was now trying to pull away from her, something impossible to achieve when he was still holding her wrists. And then his grip on her loosened and she took that opportunity to stroke her fingertip down his cheek and then over the rasp of his chin. And although he shook his head when she continued down over his chest, he didn’t stop her—not until her hand reached his groin, where he was so hard for her that her body stiffened in anticipation.

‘Lisa, no,’ he warned unsteadily as she slid her palm over the rocky ridge beneath his trousers.

‘Luc, yes,’ she mimicked as she began to slide down the protesting zip.

After that there was no turning back. Nothing but urgent and hungry kissing as she freed his erection and gazed down at it with wide-eyed pleasure. But when she began to slide her finger and thumb up and down over the silken shaft, he batted her hand away then picked her up and carried her over to the bed. He set her down beside it, his eyes flicking over the long line of hooks which went all the way down the back of her dress, and his hands were shaking as he reached for the first.

‘No,’ she said, wriggling away from him as she pushed him down onto the bed. ‘It will take too long and I’m done with waiting. I’m not going to wait a second longer for this.’ With an air of determination, she began to tug off his trousers and boxer shorts, before slithering out of her panties and climbing on top of him, uncaring of her bulkiness. Not caring that this was wrong—because the powerful hunger which was pulsing through her body was blotting out everything but desire.

‘Lisa...’ His words sounded slurred and husky as her bare flesh brushed against his. He swallowed. ‘We can’t...we can’t do this.’

‘Oh, but we can. There are many things we can’t do, but this isn’t one of them.’ The red silk dress ballooned around her as she positioned herself over him, and she saw his eyes grow smoky as the tip of him began to push insistently against her wet heat.

‘But you’re...pregnant,’ he breathed.

‘You think I don’t know that?’ She gave a hollow laugh. ‘You think pregnant women don’t have sex? Then I put it to you that you, Luc Leonidas, with all your supposed experience of the female body, are very wrong.’ Slowly she lowered herself down onto his steely shaft, biting out a gasp as that first rush of pleasure hit her.

He lay there perfectly still as she began to rock forward and back and she could see the almost helpless look of desire on his face as her bulky body accustomed itself to the movements. And she liked seeing him like that. Powerful Prince Luc at her mercy. But her sense of victory only lasted until the first shimmerings of pleasure began to ripple over her body and then, of course, he took over. His hands anchored to her hips, he angled his own to increase the level of penetration while leaning forward to whisper soft little kisses over her satin-covered belly. And it was that which was her undoing. That which made her heart melt. His stupid show of tenderness which didn’t mean a thing.

Not a thing.

All it did was make her long for the impossible. For Luc to love her and want her and need her. And that was never going to happen.

But she could do nothing to stop the orgasm which caught her up and dragged her under, and as her body began to convulse around him she heard his own ragged groan. His arms tightened as he held her against him, his lips buried in the hard swell of her stomach as he kissed it, over and over again. For a while there was nothing but contentment as Lisa clung to him, listening to the muffled pounding of her heart.

But not for long. Once the pleasure began to ebb away, she forced herself to pull away from him, collapsing back against the pile of pillows and deliberately turning her face to the wall as a deep sense of shame washed over her. How could she? How could she have done that? Climbed on top of him with that out-of-control and wanton desire?

‘Lisa?’

She felt the warmth of his hand as he placed it over one tense shoulder and some illogical part of her wanted to sink back into his embrace and stay there. Because when he touched her it felt as if all the things she didn’t believe in had come true. It felt like love. And she couldn’t afford to think that way because love was nothing but an illusion. Especially with Luc.

She closed her eyes as she pushed his hand away, because she was through with illusions. With going back on everything she knew to be true and allowing herself to get sucked into fantasy. He