Royals: Claimed By The Prince. Penny Jordan

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      Kamel watched her fumble for words, looking a million miles from the controlled woman reputed to have a block of ice for a heart, and felt something tighten in his chest.

      ‘Apparently he wanted to worship me, not—’

      ‘Take you to bed,’ Kamel supplied, thinking the man was even more of a loser than he’d thought.

      ‘I don’t actually think he thought of me as a woman. More an addition to his art collection. He likes beautiful things...not that I’m saying I’m—’

      ‘Don’t spoil all this honesty by going coy. We both know you’re beautiful. So why is it everyone thinks he’s the injured party?’

      ‘I’d prefer to be thought a bitch than an idiot.’ The explanation was not one she had previously articulated. She was startled to hear the words. It was something she had not admitted to anyone before.

      ‘And your father still invited the man here?’ If a man had treated his daughter that way he would have— Kamel dragged a chair out from the dressing table, swung it around and straddled it.

      ‘Oh, it was easier to let him think I’d had second thoughts. They’ve been friends for a long time and Dad had already had an awful time telling everyone the wedding was cancelled. A lot of people turned up and it was terrible for him—’

      ‘And you were having such a great day...’

      Hannah’s protective instincts surfaced at the implied criticism of her father.

      ‘You were right. It was my fault. This is my fault, totally my fault.’

      He shook his head, bemused by her vehemence, and protested, ‘You didn’t ask the guy to jump you!’

      ‘No, not Rob. Getting arrested, getting you mixed up in it, terrifying Dad half to death. If he has another heart attack, it would be down to me.’

      It was news to Kamel that he had had one. The man certainly hadn’t been scared enough to change his lifestyle. ‘I think a doctor might disagree. Your father does not hold back when it comes to saturated fat.’

      ‘You’re trying to make me feel better.’

      He studied her face. ‘It’s clearly not working.’

      ‘Why are you being nice? It’s my fault we had to get married. I should have waited for help. I shouldn’t have left the Land Rover. I shouldn’t have been there at all.’ She shook her head, her face settling into a mask of bitter self-recrimination as she loosed a fractured sob. ‘All the things you said.’

      ‘The village did get the vaccines, and the help they needed.’

      Lost in a morass of self-loathing, she didn’t seem to hear him. ‘I couldn’t even help myself, let alone anyone else. I was only there to prove a point. I’ve spent my life playing it safe.’ She planted her hand flat on her heaving chest and lifted her tear-filled eyes to his.

      ‘I always played by the rules. I even wanted a safe man... I didn’t even have the guts to do what I really wanted.’ She shook her head slowly from side to side and sniffed. ‘I went to university and did a course I had absolutely no interest in rather than stand up to my dad. I got engaged to a man who seemed safe and solid, and when he turned out to be a total bastard did I learn? No, I got engaged to a man I knew would never hurt me because...I always go for the safe option.’

      He let out a long, low whistle. ‘Dieu, I wanted you to take responsibility for your own actions—not the financial crisis, world hunger and bad days in the week that have a Y in them.’

      Startled, Hannah lifted her head. Her eyes connected with his and a small laugh was shaken from her chest. ‘I just want...’ She stopped, her husky voice suspended by tears, her control still unravelling so fast she could not keep pace.

      With a muttered imprecation he dropped down to his knees beside the bed and pushed the hair back from her damp face.

      ‘What do you want?’

      Her wide brimming blue eyes lifted. ‘I just want to be...to feel...not like this.’ She gnawed at her lower lip and brought her lashes down in a protective veil. ‘Sorry, I don’t know why I’m saying this stuff to you.’

      Responding to the painful tug in his chest, Kamel stood up and gently pushed her down. Sliding his hand behind her knees, he swung her legs onto the bed, pulling a pillow under her head before joining her.

      ‘Go to sleep,’ he said, lowering his long length onto the bed beside her.

      ‘I can’t sleep. I have dreams that I’m back in that cell and he is...’ She struggled to sit up. A light touch on her breastbone stopped her rising and after a moment she stopped fighting. ‘I can’t sleep.’

      He touched a finger to her lips. ‘Move over.’ Pausing to slide an arm under her shoulders, he pulled her head back onto his shoulder.

      ‘Why are you being nice to me?’ she whispered into his neck—and then a moment later she was asleep.

      Kamel, who preferred his own bed, realised this was the first time in his life that he had slept with a woman, in the literal sense. Only he wasn’t sleeping and he seriously doubted he would. A state of semi-arousal combined with seething frustration was not in his experience conducive to sleep, especially when there was zero chance of doing anything to relieve that frustration.

      On the plus side at least the scenery was rather special. Asleep she looked like a wanton angel. There were probably a lot of men out there who would be willing to give up a night’s sleep to look at that face. He was aware of an ache of desire somewhere deep inside him so strong it hurt. Ignoring it didn’t make it go away, and not looking at her was not an option because his eyes, like the north arrow on a compass, kept going back to the same place.

      So in the end he didn’t question it; he just accepted it.

      * * *

      Hannah fought her way out of a dream, struggling to shake off the lingering sense of dread.

      ‘Wake up. You’re safe.’

      Still half asleep, she opened her eyes, saw his face and sighed. ‘I love your mouth,’ she said before pressing her own lips to the sensual curve.

      ‘Hannah.’ He pulled away.

      She blinked, the confusion slowly filtering from her.

      ‘Sorry, I thought you were a dream.’ She had kissed him and he hadn’t kissed her back. He hadn’t done anything. Once was bad, but twice was humiliating.

      ‘I thought you were a bitch.’ And that had made the politically expedient marriage not right, but not this wrong. ‘I was wrong.’

      ‘Not a bitch.’ Great, I feel so much better.

      Suddenly she felt very angry. She struggled to sit up. ‘So what is wrong with me?’ she asked, looking down at him for once. ‘I mean, there has to be, doesn’t there? I’ve been engaged twice, and no sex.’ Hannah could hear the words coming out of her mouth. She knew she shouldn’t be saying them but she couldn’t stop. СКАЧАТЬ