Page 12 of Pregnant By the Wrong Prince

‘That’s ridiculously medieval, even for you.’ A spark glowed in her eyes, the white pallor of her cheeks vanishing under the faint blush of temper. ‘It’s the twenty-first century, Rafael, in case you’d forgotten. You can’t make me marry you if I don’t want to.’

Something stirred beneath the ice inside him, something hot and possessive. A recognition of the woman he’d spent so many illicit hours with in Gian’s study. The woman she was beneath the gently bred façade of the Crown Princess.

A woman who’d given him the most intense pleasure he’d ever experienced that night in his bed.

Dios, he remembered every single second...

Rafael strode into the royal chambers and slammed the door shut after him. A bottle of the finest brandy and a glass of cut crystal waited for him on the table beside the overly ornate stone fireplace where a fire roared.

The day had been a nightmare. He’d spent it in meetings with his council, which wouldn’t have been so bad if the rooms where the meetings had been held hadn’t overlooked the gardens of the palace. And if those meetings hadn’t coincided with Lia walking in those same gardens.

Rafael had had to spend hours trying to pay attention to his meetings, when all his awareness centred on the view through the windows of the lovely, lovely woman his brother was going to marry.

The woman he’d got to know over the course of months, meeting with her at night in her father’s study. Nothing ever untoward had happened in those meetings. No lines had ever been crossed, but he’d known deep down that it was wrong. That he shouldn’t be spending so much time with her alone at night.

Yet he’d kept going back, unable to help himself. Drawn by their discussions, by her wit and her intellect. Her fire and her passion, and by the way she looked at him.

That last time he’d nearly broken his vow to himself that he wouldn’t touch her, and so had made the decision not to go back. And he hadn’t.

Except he hadn’t been able to drag his gaze away from that window, watching the last of the summer sun gloss her black hair as she’d wandered through the gardens...

Dios, this obsession with her had to end.

She would be marrying Matias and the sooner the better as far as he was concerned.

If only the last time they’d met, he hadn’t got so close to her. If only he hadn’t seen the hunger in her beautiful blue eyes and known that it was for him.

That though she might be promised to Matias, the golden boy, it was him she wanted. Him, the bastard Regent his own parents had felt nothing for.

And if only he’d looked away and pretended he hadn’t seen it.

But he hadn’t and he didn’t, and for long seconds at a time they’d sat there, Gian’s desk between them, frozen as their gazes had locked and held.

Rafael knocked his brandy back, then paced around. Tried to forget about her by throwing himself into some work. Then, when that failed, he went to bed.

Only to be woken in the dark by the familiar scent of a familiar woman and the soft touch of her finger, silencing him. ‘Don’t talk,’ she’d whispered. ‘It’s only me. Please, I know it’s wrong to be here, but... I need you.’

And when she reached for him, he didn’t think about the last three months of agony. He didn’t think about his brother. As soon as her hands touched him he didn’t think at all, his much-vaunted self-control lost under a tide of need so acute all he could do was give in...

He shifted, his body responding to the memories so strongly it was all he could do not to reach across the space between them and haul her into his lap once again.

‘And do you want to marry me?’ he only asked in a mild tone.

The blue in her eyes glowed more intensely. ‘What do you think? No, I do not.’

CHAPTER THREE

ASTRANGERMIGHTthink that Rafael’s fury had subsided since his expression now betrayed nothing but mild interest.

Lia knew better. She could see that fury still in his gaze, an icy blizzard that made her breath catch.

The tension in the car had ratcheted up, making every muscle in her body go rigid. She was trying to control her own fury, because seriously, he couldn’t think she would agree, could he? That he could kidnap her from her own wedding and then marry her himself, as if all of it was a foregone conclusion?

Except it was clear that he did.

Why not marry him? Wasn’t this what you always secretly hoped for?

No, of course it wasn’t and that was a traitorous thought. She’d never harboured any secret dreams of marriage to anyone, not when she’d always known that the man she would marry was Matias.

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