Page 32 of Pregnant at the Palace Altar

“What about us?”

“Will we not do the same?”

Diamandis chose his words carefully. “We may, though often the responsibilities of the crown weigh too heavy to get away. But you could bring the children, of course, any time you wish.”

She turned back to the sea. “I suppose they will have to be born first.”

A small silence stretched out between them. Diamandis found himself in the strange situation of not knowing how to fill it. But he needn’t have worried, for Katerina did quickly.

Not with words, though. She reached behind her and began to pull the zipper of her dress down. “Can you help?” she asked.

“Perhaps you should step inside. I could call one of the maids—”

“No, no. Just pull the zipper down for me and I will handle everything.” She stepped over the threshold and back into the main room. She turned her back to him, giving him no choice but to unzip her dress, revealing her beautiful back.

The scent of her wafted up around him, rich and floral. He stepped away and allowed her to deal with the remainder of the zipper herself. He reminded himself that she had been very clear.

“It is beautiful and should be saved for some historical thing or another. But it is very heavy and I’d like it off.” The fabric slithered from her and fell to the floor with a softwhoosh.

Then she turned to face him, in an intricate piece of lacy lingerie that could only be meant to entice a man.

He wasn’t the one who wanted to be hands-off, but...this was suspicious. “I thought you wished to remain business partners.” He could not take his eyes off her—the flimsy lace, the glorious glow of her.

She nodded. “I did. I thought I could guard my heart if we did not muddle matters with a physical relationship.”

He recoiled at the wordheart, but this did not seem to stop her. It certainly did not stop his sex from jumping to life.

“But this is silly. This...compartmentalizing. Our life is our life, regardless.” She removed the lace from her body to stand naked before him.

His perfect, beautiful queen.

He felt frozen, as though his very insides had detonated and he was merely a shell of the man he’d once been, with only one thought:her.

“I wish to be with you, my king,” she said, sliding her hands up his chest and around his neck. “Here, on our wedding night. It belongs to us, after all. Not to Kalyva.”

But she had said something about her heart, and this felt more dangerous. He should not allow it to happen. She had been right: business required a clear mind, and absolutely no muddying with desire.

No hearts. HewasKalyva. Nothing more.

Be strong. Harden your heart. Do what must be done, no matter how difficult. Resist feeling.

Resisting her would be power. It would be the smart move, and he should absolutely do it. But she was warmth and light, and she was his.

So he gave in.

His kiss was like the last time, and it singed through Katerina like the fire it was, but this was about more than lust, and she wanted to show him all she had to offer. She didn’t want to put all her desire for him in one box, and all her other conflicting emotions for him in another. They were all one jumbled thing, in one box.

Tonight, she wanted to show him tenderness and care—all the things he did not want, and yet so desperately needed. Without fear. Without holding herself back.

She knew he’d sent Christos to walk her down the aisle. She knew this place meant something to him and that it hurt him to be back here. She wore his mother’s ring, and she’d seen him through highs and lows.

She knew him. Good and bad.

She wanted itall. Making the best of everything as best she could.

So she soothed his savage hunger by rubbing her hands slowly up and down his back. By pulling her mouth from his and pressing soft, careful kisses to his cheeks. His jaw.

“What are you doing?” he rasped.

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