Protected by the Prince

‘Thanks. You can put me down.’ She sounded delightfully breathless. Free of her glasses, there was nothing to hide the amber glow of awareness in her eyes. Alaric felt he was falling into sunshine.

He had an intense vision of her looking up at him like that, lips parted invitingly, eyes dazed. But in his mind she was sprawled beneath the royal blue canopy of his bed, naked on silk sheets, awaiting his pleasure.

Alaric’s breathing grew choppy as he fought the most primitive of physical reactions. His lower body locked solid at the force of abrupt arousal. The sound of applause and excited comment faded as fire ignited his blood.

Tamsin moved, dragging her gaze from his and fumbling at the strap of her helmet. It dropped away before she could stop it and her hair frothed over his arm in a dark cloud.

The scent of wildflowers hit him.

Forget the bedroom. He wanted this woman on sweet alpine grass. He wanted to watch her eyes light to gold as he plunged deep inside and took her to ecstasy.

‘Alaric.’ Her voice was deliciously throaty. He wanted to hear her calling his name as she climaxed. ‘Please…’

Reluctantly he lowered her to her feet. But holding her had cemented his resolve. Amazingly, for those few moments she’d banished the dark shadows. He’d been utterly consumed by sexual need. Just as when they’d kissed.

It was no longer enough to satisfy his pride by making Tamsin Connors beg for his kisses. Alaric craved the release he knew he could find in her sweet, supple body.

And he intended to have it.

‘A moment of your time before you go in.’

Tamsin halted at the door to the castle’s staff quarters. Slowly she turned, schooling her face to polite interest. They were alone, the security men melting away when they arrived back from the youth centre.

In the late afternoon gloom of the castle courtyard, Alaric’s face was unreadable but the way he towered above her, his shoulders blocking her vision, reminded her of the night he’d kissed her.

Of the way it had felt an hour ago when he’d held her in his embrace.

A shiver tingled to her toes as she recalled the heat in his eyes and the answering fire in her belly, and lower, at the message that had passed wordlessly between them.

No! Her imagination ran riot. Prince Alaric would never look at her with desire. Her hormones made her see what wasn’t there. He’d played at intimacy for their audience.

‘Yes?’ At least her voice was steady.

For a moment he simply gazed down. She sensed the intensity of his regard, despite the way his eyelids dropped to half-mast. That gave him a dangerously seductive look that made her pulse race into overdrive.

He leaned closer, his breath tickling her forehead.

‘Why wear those glasses? You don’t need them.’

Stunned, she stepped back, only to find she’d already backed up against the door. He followed, lifting a hand idly to rest on the wall near her head. Instantly Tamsin was torn between unease at the sense of being trapped and, worse, delight at being so near him.

Beneath her jacket her breasts felt fuller. She wanted his hand there, she realised with a stifled gasp, on her breast, moulding her flesh.

This was worse than anything she’d felt for Patrick. Far worse. Surely it wasn’t normal to feel this lick of heat between her legs or the heavy swirl low in her belly?

‘Tamsin?’

Flustered, she grappled for the thread of the conversation. ‘My glasses?’ She touched them, gaining a moment’s reassurance from their familiarity. ‘For magnification. I do a lot of close work.’

‘They don’t magnify much.’

How did he know that?

‘You don’t need them now. You took them off to play squash and to climb. Why not remove them when you’re not working?’

‘I’m used to them.’ Even in her own ears it sounded lame, but it was true. ‘I’ve worn them for years.’

‘Then perhaps it’s time you came out from behind them.’ Alaric leaned forward, his words a whispered caress that tantalised her bare skin.

He lifted a hand and for a moment she thought he was going to grab her glasses. Instead he stroked her hair from her face. After taking it down to fit under the climbing helmet, she’d only secured it quickly and now strands escaped. She felt them tickle her neck.

Or was that his warm breath? He’d lowered his head and they stood close.

‘What difference does it make to you?’ Her voice was uneven, as if she’d run up the zigzag road to the castle.

‘None.’ Again his fingers stroked as he tucked hair behind her ear. Did she imagine his touch lingered? ‘I just wondered why you hid behind them.’

Tamsin stiffened. ‘I’m not hiding!’ She’d acquired the glasses when she’d worked on a particularly difficult manuscript at university. The text had been so tiny she’d suffered eye strain until she’d got them.