Playing the Royal Game
She could feel the press of him, the nudge of him, and she wanted him inside her, wanted to scream. She had to tell him to stop, except she was gasping as his fingers brought her close now to heaven, and she felt him press at her entrance. She really had to tell him, her voice breathless when it came, her hips arching away from his hand that was pressing her back to him.
‘Alex, no...’
He was aware of three things.
In one second, there were three things.
The word no, when she was so wet and oiled there surely should only be a plea; the knock on his door that told him their privacy was about to be invaded; anger, too, for the games she was playing, for the kisses that ended, for the glimpse, for the taste...
...for the tease.
CHAPTER SIX
‘I ASKED for breakfast at seven.’ He sat up in the bed and lifted one knee to hide the obvious as Allegra lay there, eyes closed, wishing she was asleep, wishing as clearly as Alex did that the breakfast had been on time, that the last hour had not happened. She heard the harshness of his tone, and knew it had nothing to do with the late breakfast.
‘I apologise, Prince Alessandro. The queen said—’
‘The queen stopped dictating the time I eat my meals many years ago,’ Alex snapped.
‘Of course, Your Highness.’ His butler bowed. ‘Will there be anything else?’
‘Nothing,’ he snapped. ‘I am not to be disturbed.’
He hardly waited for the door to be closed, too used to servants, too ready for confrontation, to attempt patience.
‘Talk about lousy timing, Allegra.’
‘I assume we’re not talking about the door?’ He wasn’t in the mood for even a vague stab of humour. ‘Look...’
‘Have you any idea how...?’ He was having great trouble keeping from shouting. ‘It’s a bit late sometimes to change your mind.’
‘I know that.’
‘Some men...’
‘I know!’ Her voice was shrill, her cheeks on fire. She simply couldn’t tell him her truth, that he’d been about to find out she was a virgin, that there had been no other men, that though she had wanted him terribly, she had been scared it might hurt. She put her face in her hands for a moment; she understood he was cross, for she was cross with herself too. She was the last person to lead a man on; it was just with Alex it was so very easy to lead and to follow and then to lead some more, to lead and be led until completely lost, to return hungry kisses, to listen to her body and not her mind. No, she couldn’t land all that on him, couldn’t tell him he was the only man she’d burnt for, the man who would live for ever now in her dreams. Instead she offered a more sensible reason, which was obvious now—except it hadn’t been then. In fact, the thought hadn’t entered her head at the time, but she said it now as if it had.
‘We weren’t using protection.’
He closed his eyes for a brief moment and drew in a deep breath.
‘It would complicate things rather, a little Prince Alessandro, Junior...’ Allegra warmed to her rapidly chosen subject.
‘You’re not on the pill?’
‘No, I’m not on the bloody pill. I’m not seeing anyone, and I’m certainly not going on it just in case...’ She looked over to him. ‘Have you heard the one about the prince who walks into a bar...?’
‘Ha, ha!’ He did not approve of her London humour.
‘Anyway—’ Allegra smarted, far safer up on her high horse ‘—it’s not just for pregnancy.’
‘I don’t need a lecture on safe sex,’ he hissed.
‘Actually, Alex, I’d suggest that you do.’ How lovely it was up here, she thought, how lovely to have been so embarrassed, but to now be peering down from a higher moral ground. But it was as if he reached out and jerked her down from there, brought her right back to his bed with a flash of his eyes; she could see the concern in them, felt a little guilty that the rapid excuse she had come up with should provoke such a response.
‘I apologise...’ He swore under his breath in Italian, and raked a hand through his hair. He moved to the side and sat on the edge of the bed, his head in his hands. ‘I always, without exception, have been careful. You have nothing to worry about there.’