The Prince's Scandalous Wedding Vow

“You’re welcome to use it anytime.”

She didn’t want the gym, though. She wanted him. And the unbidden thought made her loathe herself because she shouldn’t be so weak. She shouldn’t still want him, not after everything that had transpired. “Your mother came to see me just a little bit ago,” she said, struggling to distract herself. “Was that how my door was left unlocked?”

“It’s been unlocked for the past two days.”

“It hasn’t.”

“It has.”

“But that scraping sound—the lock turning...”

“It’s just the hardware. It’s old. It should be replaced.”

“You let me think I was locked in.”

“I did.”

“That’s horrible. You should be ashamed.”

“I am.”

“You don’t sound it. If anything, you seem rather pleased with yourself.”

“I’m pleased to see you.”

Her lip compressed and she glanced away, but not before her gaze swept over him, focusing on his midsection, seeing yet again that lovely hard torso in her mind’s eye.

She’d been fascinated by him before they’d ever met. She’d watched him on the beach, interested in only him. She’d filled her sketchbook with his likeness.

He was her weakness.

And yet she felt increasingly vulnerable, and not at all safe. “I’m afraid this isn’t going to work,” she said, her voice low and husky. “And I don’t know how to make it work since I no longer trust you.”

“I’ll earn your trust back.”

“I don’t think—”

“You have to give it a chance, Josephine.”

“It will take time.”

“Yes, it will. Unfortunately, it’s the one thing we’re short on, and so I ask you to trust me that the trust will grow.”

“Alexander.”

“We need to marry soon—as in right away. As it is the baby will be born early, and we can fudge a few weeks, but every day it will become harder to hide the facts of his or her conception. I can handle gossip. I’m accustomed to slights and insults, but I don’t want there to be excessive speculation about our child’s birth. Nothing should mar his or her future. Life is hard enough without being born under a cloud of doubt.”

Finally, he’d said something she agreed with. Life was hard, and no child should have to grow up with any stigma or gossip surrounding him or her. “Do you even like children?” she asked.

“What a strange question.”

“I think it’s a fair question. You had never mentioned them before.”

“Before? You mean on Khronos when I didn’t know my name or where I came from or even my native tongue?”

She squirmed inwardly, thinking he’d made a fair point. “You never asked me how I felt about becoming a mother. You never asked me my feelings on anything.”

“I’m sorry.”

She shot him a narrowed glance. “So my bedroom door will remain unlocked?”

“Yes.”

“You’re giving me my freedom back?”

“Freedom to explore the palace grounds, yes.”

“But not beyond?”

“You may leave to explore Roche provided you have ample security. But I warn you, it won’t be the same as before. The people know you’re here—”

“How?”

“I’m followed constantly, cara. When I leave these castle walls, I’m followed and photographed and everything I do and eat and buy is documented. Which is why I’ve kept you here, on the inside. I’m trying to buy you time, giving you a chance to mentally adjust to the changes taking place.”

She was silent a long moment. “I don’t have very much control anymore, do I?”

“No.”

“Or very many options.”

“Unfortunately, no.”

“What options do I have? What am I allowed to decide?”

“The time of day you’d like to be married. The choice of venue for the ceremony—the chapel here, within the palace grounds, or the Gothic cathedral on Roche’s historic square.”

He added in the same flat, unemotional voice, “You can choose the type of reception we will have. You have absolute control over the wedding details, large and small. You can decide where we will honeymoon—”

“I don’t want a honeymoon.”

“You don’t think it would be good for us to get away and have some time alone?”

“I’ve had time alone with you. And look at me now.”

A possessive heat flickered in his blue gaze and the edge of his mouth lifted in a sensual curl. “I’d like a week with you where you don’t have to cook or wait on me. I’d like to do nothing but keep you in bed all day.”

She felt the curl of his lip as darts of sensation raced from the tips of her breasts through her belly to between her thighs. “I think we did that, too.”

“There are so many things I want to do with you—”

“No, thank you.”

“You’d enjoy it.”

“Just like I enjoyed being locked in your tower?”

He considered her words. “Bondage is a form of foreplay. I find the idea of tying you up, or maybe handcuffing you to the bed, very erotic. I think you would, too.”

Her pulse leaped. Heat stormed her cheeks. “You clearly don’t know me, not if you think I’d enjoy being handcuffed or tied up.”

“You

don’t know that until we try.”

She’d never imagined such a thing, and yet she could see herself naked, tied to her bed, waiting for him. Waiting on him. It was shocking and yet thrilling. A frisson of raw desire, spiked by nervous excitement, shivered up and down her spine. “You are being blatantly sexual,” she murmured huskily.

His gaze slowly roved her face, lingering on her lips. “You like me blatantly sexual.”

“You made me sexual.”

His broad shoulders shrugged. “Chemistry has never been our problem. We work. We make sense. Why? I don’t know. You’re the scientist. You tell me.”

Her breath caught in her throat as heat and awareness surged through her. It had been almost three weeks since they’d been intimate and yet her body remembered him and ached for him to hold her down and make her his again. She could remember his lips at her neck and the roughness of his chest against her breasts and the thickness of his hard, hot shaft entering and filling her. When he was with her, in her, she felt unbearably good... She felt complete.

And part of her desperately wanted him again. She wanted his warmth and the sensation of being his, and only his, but another part of her knew he wasn’t good for her. Her desire made her dependent. Her desire clouded her thinking. She struggled to remember why they were at odds, needing to create distance, needing a form of defense. “But it’s changed,” she said breathlessly. “We did have chemistry, but that was before, back when we were on Khronos. When I felt safe with you. I don’t anymore.”

“You will again.”

“So I can go out? I can resume normal living?”

He took so long to answer that she dreaded the answer. “It won’t ever be the normal you knew before,” he said at length, “but yes, you can go out, and yes, you can go shopping, or out for a meal. But it will be choreographed at our end. Palace security will want to know the details so they can have a plan, create a route, and ensure your outing will be as stress free as they can make it.”

“My normal isn’t shopping and restaurants. My normal is home. My work. The beach.”

“You will have work. It will just be different—”

“Is that supposed to appease me?”

“No. I’m being honest. I think it’s better if we lay all the cards on the table. The truth is you will have a new life here, and you will have a new normal, and I promise that I will do everything in my power to help you settle in so that you can be happy, eventually.”