The Queen's Nine-Month Scandal

He seemed to know exactly what she meant and said slowly, ‘Me too...so no names then, or that’ll ruin it.’

Flutters increased in Analia’s belly. It was as if she’d agreed to enter into some kind of illicit pact with this man, which was crazy as they’d only just met. Nevertheless she heard herself saying, ‘No names.’

Quirking a sexy smile again he said, ‘We could make up names?’

He held out a hand, ‘I’m Sasha.’

Analia felt a giggle rising up, an incredible lightheartedness. ‘That’s a girl’s name!

He drawled, ‘I think it’s fairly obvious I’m not a girl. I’ll have you know that

it’s a very respectable man’s name in Russia where my ancestors come from. Or not...I could be making it all up.’

Analia had a sense that he wasn’t making it up. Something about him made her think of vast open steppes and an inhospitable environment pitting man against nature. Very aware of her heart pounding, Analia put her hand in his and seized on the first name she could think of. ‘I’m...Alexandra.’

Instantly the air around them seemed to crackle with awareness. Analia was aware of her hand being dwarfed by his. The faint calluses against her delicate skin. His incredible heat.

Seconds passed, stretching as they stood there, locked in this bubble of intimacy. She felt his thumb move ever so slightly against the pulse of her wrist and her eyes widened under the lace of her mask, her breath choppy.

The lighthearted feel of the last few moments seemed to change to something more intense. Analia could feel blood rushing to her face and other parts of her body. Her breasts felt heavy and her nipples became hard points against the silk of her dress.

Without releasing her hand or saying anything else, Sasha guided her over to where doors stood open, leading her out to a balcony, which overlooked the canal. Analia felt a little dazed. She’d only met this man mere minutes ago, and yet she felt bizarrely as if she’d been speaking to him for hours.

A couple passed them on their way back into the room and then they were alone on the balcony, the sound of the party muted. He let her hand go and Analia felt ridiculously bereft. She clutched her glass and said innocuously, ‘It’s so incredibly beautiful here.’

‘Yes.’

She looked up at Sasha but he was looking at her, not the view. Under his mask she could make out the dark intensity of his eyes and that they were gray, like a stormy Atlantic Ocean.

‘What are you doing here?’ he asked then.

Emboldened by the prosecco, the headiness of the protection of anonymity, Analia whispered, ‘Escaping.’

She could imagine him raising a brow under his mark and he asked inevitably, ‘From what?’

Analia looked away and gulped. Everything was slightly obscured from under the black lace of her mask. ‘From nothing...and everything.’

She looked at him and lifted her chin. ‘And you? Why are you here?

He smiled. ‘Because I was looking for you.’

The words were only meant as a light flirtation. A platitude. The equivalent of asking, do you come here often? But Analia couldn’t stop herself from imbuing them with a significance they didn’t warrant.

His smile faded then and he put down his glass of wine onto a nearby table. Analia tensed. He stretched out a hand and ran his finger down one cheek and across the line of her jaw.

Suddenly he muttered roughly, ‘You’re so beautiful.’

Analia’s skin tingled deliciously where he touched her. She blushed. No one had ever complimented her like that before. It wouldn’t be appropriate. ‘Thank you,’ she said huskily.

As if unable to help himself, he moved closer and his hand snaked around to the back of Analia’s neck, under her hair. She felt unbearably sensitized and languorous all at once. Unable to stop him. Not wanting to stop him. Not even when he pulled her close enough so that she could feel the latent strength of his body next to hers.

His head dipped and her eyes fluttered closed as that wickedly sensuous mouth settled over hers. Tasting, touching, so delicately that she might have imagined it. And yet, it burned like a brand.

CHAPTER TWO

NEED BURNT UP like wildfire within Daniel as soon as his lips touched hers. Alexandra. The name suited her. She had a regal air about her. But all that was forgotten as he realized that he’d be crushing her mouth under his and taking her right there against the balcony, in full view of the party’s guests, if he wasn’t careful.

Disobeying the clamour of his blood, Daniel pulled back with extreme reluctance. He could see her eyes open underneath the lace of her mask but couldn’t make out their color. They were dark.