A Bride for His Majesty s Pleasure

Now. Now she was whole and complete—holding Max to her and within her, Ionanthe acknowledged. She loved him more than she had thought it possible to love anyone.

They breathed together and their flesh quickened. Max began to move, driven by an age-old need, and Ionanthe opened herself to him, obeying a primitive instinct of her own.

Their pleasure rose and then plateaued, allowing them to rest their sweat-soaked bodies and ease their laboured breathing. The climb had been steep and urgent, claiming from them everything they had to give. And then, as though nature herself had grown impatient with the delay, the very act of their breathing set off within Ionanthe a small but cataclysmic tightening of eager muscles accompanied by a ripple of pleasure. Her hands tightened on Max’s shoulders and immediately he responded, driving hard, feeling her taking him deep within her. Their rhythm changed, tightening, hurrying, rushing frantically as they laboured to meet the demands being made on them.

The end came fiercely, with a final paroxysm of shared pleasure leaving them clinging together at the pinnacle, their hearts thudding in unison.

Ionanthe woke to a morning of snow-bright light and the gentle caress of Max’s hands on her body.

How delicious it was to wake to such sensual pleasure. She turned to Max and smiled sleepily at him, her smile turning to a soft gasp when his touch grew more intimate.

‘We’ll be late for breakfast,’ she warned him.

‘Mmm…breakfast, or this and you?’ Max murmured, as though pretending to consider his choice.

His lips feathered kisses against her skin and his fingers teased nipples that were already showing how eager they were for him to make them his choice.

CHAPTER TWELVE

‘I THOUGHT that since we shall have to spend Christmas here now, after last night’s snowfall, we could perhaps have a party for everyone here at the castle on Christmas Eve. My parents used to do it.’

‘It sounds a good idea to me,’ Max agreed.

‘We’ll need a Christmas tree, of course.’

‘I’ll take some of the men and see what we can find.’

They exchanged smiles.

They’d breakfasted on homemade bread and honey from the estate’s bees, whilst Ionanthe explained to Max that the estate was almost self-sufficient.

‘The people live simply, but well, in the same way they have lived for many, many generations. That is why the elders of the communities are so opposed to change. They cannot see what benefits it could bring. They believe they have everything they need. They cannot see that we live in different times, and that they are denying the younger generation the right to make their own choices. They think that life can continue as it has always done without any change for ever, but it can’t. The world is growing smaller; the island itself will have to change. That is inevitable.’

Max put down his coffee cup. Was one of the changes Ionanthe was envisaging the mining of the island’s minerals? Last night, hearing her speak so passionately about the need for education for the island’s children, he had admired and applauded her, allowing his heart to rule his head, but now once again the responsibilities of his role were reminding him that there were questions that had to be answered.

‘When you say that the island will have to change, what kind of changes do you have in mind?’ he asked.

Ionanthe shook her head.

‘There are so many. Fortenegro has many natural resources—’

‘And you favour utilising them?’

‘I think that we have to. But in a controlled way, of course.’

‘Of course.’ Max’s heart had grown colder with every word Ionanthe uttered. ‘Have you thought of the disruption this will cause to people’s lives? The antagonism there will be?’

‘Yes, but it is still my belief that it must be done.’

Something was wrong. Ionanthe could sense it. The warmth had gone from Max’s voice, and although he hadn’t actually said anything critical Ionanthe felt that inwardly he was hostile.

Why, when last night they had seemed so much in accord? Was it that despite his apparent enthusiasm yesterday he was now having cold feet?

It hurt to think that the closeness she had believed they shared could vanish so easily.

She wasn’t going to change her mind or backtrack, though. She couldn’t—no matter how much she loved him. She owed it to the children of Fortenegro to stick to her plan. Marta’s comments last night had shown her that.

She lifted her chin and told Max firmly, ‘And here on this estate—my estate and my land—I intend that it shall be done.’