Married for the Prince's Convenience

His expression lightened a touch. Grey eyes surveyed her from top to toe before they lingered at the drink in her hand. ‘The silence I can probably handle. The chastity would unfortunately be a deal-breaker. How many of those have you had?’ He nodded to her drink.

‘This is my second one. Isabella recommended it. That local fruit...santosanda? It’s delicious.’

‘It is, but did she mention that, once fermented, it’s also a powerful aphrodisiac?’ he asked silkily.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

REYES WATCHED HER eyes widen in shock, before a flush of awareness reddened her cheeks. She glanced at the drink, then back to him.

‘No, she didn’t!’ Her voice had grown huskier. She blinked slowly as she passed her tongue over her plump lower lip.

Dios, had she even noticed the effects taking hold of her?

She’d been languidly caressing the lip of her glass for the last several minutes. And her nipples were hard and clearly outlined beneath her dress.

Reyes swallowed. ‘I think you’ve had enough,’ he rasped. He took the half-empty glass and handed it to the hovering waiter. Picking up two glasses of water, he thrust one into her hand.

‘Umm...thanks.’

He nodded tersely.

Walking onto the terrace, he’d been hit between the eyes again by her stunning beauty. So much so, he’d stood frozen while her conversation with Isabella had unravelled.

It wasn’t until his sister’s utterance that he’d shaken off the red haze of lust that seemed to enclose him when he was around Jasmine.

Watching her now, he recalled what she’d said to him before they’d landed in Santo Sierra.

And the resulting tailspin his emotions had been flung in. Once he’d been able to draw breath, he’d tried to analyse his reaction. Yes, the knowledge of Jasmine’s pregnancy had been the catalyst that had driven everything forward. But he could just as easily have maintained the initial date of his wedding. He was a modern enough man to admit the distance between his wedding day and his heir’s birthday didn’t bother him. And he was sure it didn’t bother Jasmine.

So why had he been intent on rushing her to the altar?

He’d tried and failed to convince himself it was because of his need to make his people happy. A week’s difference wouldn’t have mattered. Neither did it matter that Jasmine’s past would be an issue once it became public knowledge. Unlike his mother’s behaviour, Jasmine’s reasons for her unfortunate past were a result of trying to survive her horrific circumstances. He was sure his people would forgive once they knew.

Just as he’d forgiven her? Just as he suspected his reasons for marrying were more selfish than he wanted to admit to himself?

Reyes thrust his balled fists into his pocket, willed the confusing emotions away, but they returned stronger. More demanding.

He didn’t do feelings. Hadn’t let any in, except maybe for his father, since he’d thrown Anaïs out of his life, and then stood at his mother’s graveside mere months later.

But Jasmine was making him feel. Making him want...no, need. As for the thought that his child was growing in her belly...it pounded him with terrifyingly powerful emotions every time it blazed across his mind.

Would the mistakes that he’d made with his own father affect his child? Was failure emblazoned in his blood for ever?

More and more he’d found himself wanting to take Jasmine’s example. She had found a way out of the barren wasteland of not having anyone to lean on, anyone to trust. But she’d let herself trust, allowed her faith in the goodness of humanity to be restored. Despite the harrowing experience of juvenile detention and a mother who clearly wasn’t equipped for the job, she’d found herself back on a road Reyes himself was struggling to find.

He couldn’t deny it. She compelled him to be a better man. Would raising their child together make him a better father, too?

Swallowing his blind panic, he glanced at her.

Her eyes were on him, her fingers curled around the glass. ‘I feel funny.’

Unaccustomed laughter rumbled out of his chest. ‘You need fresh air. Dinner won’t be for another hour. Come, I’ll show you the grounds.’

She peered down at her feet. ‘I don’t think these shoes will go well with walking the grounds. They’re already pinching something fierce.’

‘You won’t need to walk further than the bottom of these steps.’ Golf buggies were housed at various points around the palace for ease of movement around the extensive grounds.