The Reluctant Princess. Kholo Matsha

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СКАЧАТЬ to Gauteng, but Lesedi didn’t even notice, she was aching for the love that she knew she’d never have with Mogale.

      But they did have something. Her eyes shifted to his face, and even though she couldn’t see him properly in the dark her mouth still dried from desire. Her mind was full of fantasies. She yearned for him. But why? She didn’t want to feel like this about Mogale, not when she knew that there was no love between them, and yet her senses were spinning out of control. She’d never experienced this before – the sexual pull was almost too much for her to bear. It was utterly uncalled for, she scolded herself. Sex would only complicate things.

      Lesedi tore her eyes from Mogale and squeezed them closed, trying to block out the fate she saw as her future. She had given up her job, her life, for duty.

      * * *

      The car rolled on and on in the darkness, getting closer to its destination. Mogale kept his body rigid, resisting the urge to reach over to Lesedi. She seemed so lost and disorientated that it tore at him. He had to do everything in his power to quell his natural male response to the female beside him – to pull the car over, take Lesedi in his arms and kiss away her grief. Because she wasn’t just any female; she was his wife. No matter the circumstances that had brought them together after six years of longing for her, she was now his wife. Mogale’s gaze drifted back to Lesedi. She had fallen asleep. She looked so vulnerable, he thought as he began to puzzle once again over their situation. All he knew was that he couldn’t keep his hands off her. A weakness he didn’t take kindly to. Even now she stirred him in her sleep. Mogale huffed out a frustrated breath, his fingers gripping the steering wheel tightly. How he could want a woman who didn’t want him was beyond him. His heart contracted at the thought, the pain that came with it taking him by surprise. He should stop being sentimental, he berated himself. He’d keep his distance from her, and with time they would see that it wouldn’t have worked anyway. And with that Mogale turned his eyes back to the road.

      Three hours later they arrived at Mogale’s property. High up above the arched gates was a board proclaiming boldly Batloung Estate. Driving in, they passed pine trees that lined the long driveway on both sides. At the end of it they came to a massive house, which, despite its size, had a homely feel. Low welcoming lights illuminated its high-rising walls. Greenery dotted open spaces.

      Mogale stopped at the front steps, admiring the comfortable simplicity of the house. He wondered what Lesedi would think of it. Suddenly it occurred to him that all the years he had struggled to improve himself and worked hard to earn a place in society, not just because he was a prince by birth, he’d wanted to be worthy in Lesedi’s eyes, and that one day she’d . . . She’d what?

      A bitter taste filled his mouth. Well, he knew the answer to that now.

      Getting out of the car, Mogale went to unlock the door and quickly disarmed the alarm. Then he went to her side and opened the door. He scooped her sleeping form up into his arms. Her body was soft and womanly and a sweet natural scent drifted into his nostrils, tempting him to bury his nose in the space where her shoulder met her neck. Resisting the urge, he directed his steps towards the house. She was just the right size for this; her body fitted snugly into his arms as though she could stay there forever.

      In the guest bedroom Mogale was about to gently put Lesedi down on the bed when she stirred and woke up with a start. His arms involuntarily tightened around her and for a second she sighed as though accepting his touch. That pulled at him. Mogale leaned in close to her; their eyes locked, they recognised the desire reflected there. Their breath mingled. He breathed in her scent.

      Lesedi experienced a moment of panic as she lost control of her body. “I think I can manage from here,” she said, standing up quickly, her voice small and groggy.

      “Yes, of course.” The sarcasm in Mogale’s voice was barely concealed – all that was left was for him to call her “your highness”.

      Mogale left her standing in the middle of the room. Lesedi wrapped her arms around her waist as though to preserve herself from the irresistible attraction that blazed into life whenever he was close. She didn’t even look at the room, afraid to discover it to be the master bedroom – she didn’t think she was ready for that, ready for him.

      At that moment Mogale came in with her luggage. Lesedi looked at him and wondered what he was thinking, but to her disappointment he placed her luggage next to the bed and said good night.

      Lesedi watched his retreating back, unsure if she was sad or relieved. Then, picking up her handbag from the floor, she searched for her cellphone and made a quick call to Phetana. She felt like talking.

      “Hello?” Phetana sounded half-asleep.

      Lesedi checked her wristwatch – it was past midnight. “Sorry, I’ve woken you.” Lesedi sat down on the bed.

      “Oh, I was expecting your call. So how is the prince treating you? Wow, I still can’t believe you’re married to Mogale. All those years you waited for him were not in vain. You finally have him, girl!” Phetana gave a gleeful yelp.

      “I never waited for him.”

      “Of course you did, even if you never said a word about him. Lesedi, you waited for him and you know it. Six years and there was never a guy you were interested in – if that’s not waiting, I don’t know what is. You must have been dreaming that he’d come charging back into your life to marry you.” Phetana whooped again.

      “But he didn’t do that now, did he?” Lesedi flopped backwards onto the bed. Not that she would ever admit it to Phetana, but stupid as she was, she had dreamt of that very thing. In her dreams his handsome face had radiated love, his lips had spread wide in a smile, he had spoken honey-coated words that had taken her breath away. “If it wasn’t for his father wanting to reconcile our people, he wouldn’t have come for me no matter how much I might have wanted him to,” she said, suddenly feeling tired.

      “Lesedi, just show him you love him. You do love him, don’t you?”

      “I never stopped.”

      “So?”

      “I can’t do that. I don’t think I can handle my love being thrown back in my face again. Once was enough.”

      “Oh, Lesedi . . .”

      “Don’t worry, I’ll be fine. I just need to find something to do, that’s all.”

      “Haven’t you forgotten something?” The excitement was back in Phetana’s voice.

      “What?” Lesedi asked, not really caring.

      “The outreach programme! Now that you’re married to him you can easily ask . . .”

      Lesedi suddenly sat upright. Her life had been so stormy for the past four weeks that she had forgotten all about the outreach programme. Had she packed her paperwork? She would have to check. Would he agree? She mulled the idea over in her mind. She’d never thought to ask anything from him, and now that she had to, she didn’t know how to broach the subject.

      “Now that I think of it, Lesedi,” Phetana continued, “you two would have found each other anyway. You were going to call him.”

      “I wouldn’t have called him. I was thinking of finding other sponsors,” Lesedi said stubbornly. “And even if I had called him, it doesn’t mean he would have accepted my proposal.”

      “Regardless. You know, СКАЧАТЬ