Название: Wedding Party Collection: Marrying The Prince
Автор: Кейт Хьюит
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Короткие любовные романы
Серия: Mills & Boon M&B
isbn: 9781474068499
isbn:
She nodded slowly. ‘Yes, but more than that. I want to do something more than just smile and shake hands.’
‘Understandably, but don’t sell a smile and a handshake short. It’s more than my parents ever did.’
‘Is it?’
‘One of the reasons they were so keen for our engagement to go ahead is because they’d damaged the monarchy nearly beyond repair,’ Leo said flatly. He speared a slice of beef with a little more vigour than necessary.
‘How?’
He shrugged. ‘Very public affairs, careless spending, a complete indifference to their people. It’s hard to say which aspect of their lives was the most damaging.’
And he’d grown up in that environment. ‘It doesn’t sound like a very happy place to have your childhood,’ she said quietly.
‘I didn’t. I went to boarding school when I was six.’
‘Six?’
‘I didn’t mind.’ A waiter had materialised on the edge of the beach and with a flick of his fingers Leo indicated for him to come forward. Alyse had a feeling he’d had enough of personal conversation, but at least he’d shared something. More than he ever had before.
Leo hadn’t meant to say so much. Reveal so much. How did she do it? he wondered. How did she sneak beneath the defences he’d erected as a boy, had had firmly in place for so long? He never talked about his parents, or himself, or anything. He’d always preferred it that way and yet in these unguarded moments he discovered he almost enjoyed the conversation. The sharing.
So much for getting this relationship back on the footing he’d wanted: impersonal. Unthreatening.
Frustration blazed through him. No more friendship. No more conversation. There was only one thing he wanted from Alyse, and he would have it. Tonight.
Over the next few courses of their meal she made a few attempts at conversation and Leo answered politely enough without encouraging further talk. Still, she tried, and he had to admire her determination.
She wouldn’t give up. Well, neither would he.
The moon had risen in the sky, sending its silver rays sliding over the placid surface of the sea. The waiter brought them both tiny glasses of liqueurs and a plate of petit fours and then left them alone, retreating silently back to the main resort.
All around them the night seemed very quiet, very still, the only sound the gentle lap of the waves against the sand. In the moonlit darkness, Alyse looked almost ethereal, her hair floating softly about her shoulders, her silvery eyes soft—yes, eyes could be soft, and thoughtful.
Desire tightened inside him and he took a sip of the sweet liqueur, felt its fire join the blaze already ignited in his belly. He wanted her, just as he’d told her that afternoon, and he would have her tonight.
And it wouldn’t be making love.
They sat in silence for a few more moments, sipping their liqueurs, when Leo decided he’d had enough. He placed his glass on the table with deliberate precision. ‘It’s getting late,’ he said, and Alyse’s gaze widened before she swallowed audibly. Leo smiled and stood, stretching one hand out to her.
She rose and took it, her fingers slender and feeling fragile in his as he drew her from the table and across the sand to their sleeping quarters.
While they’d been eating some of the staff had prepared their hut for the night. The sheets had been turned down and candles lit on either side of the bed, the dancing flames sending flickering shadows across the polished wooden floor.
The perfect setting for romance, for love, but Leo pushed that thought away. He stood in front of the bed and turned her to face him; her bare shoulders were soft and warm beneath his hands.
She shivered and he couldn’t tell if it was from desire or nervousness. Perhaps both. He knew he needed to go slowly, even though the hunger inside him howled for satiation and release.
He slid his hands up from her shoulders to cup her face, his thumbs tracing the line of her jaw, her skin like silk beneath his fingers. ‘Don’t be nervous,’ he said softly, for now that they were in the moment he still wanted to reassure her, even if he didn’t want to engage his emotions.
‘I’m not,’ she answered, but her voice choked and she looked away.
In answer he brushed a feathery kiss across her jaw before settling his mouth on hers, his tongue tracing the seam of her lips, gently urging her to part for him.
And she did, her mouth yielding to his, her arms coming around him as he drew her pliant softness against him, loving the way her body curved and melted into his.
He kissed her deeply, sliding his hands from her face to her shoulders and then her hips, drawing her close to him, fitting her against the already hard press of his arousal. Desire shot up through him with fiery arrows of sizzling sensation and he felt her shudder in response.
Gently, slowly, he drew the thin straps of her dress down her shoulders. Alyse stood still, her gaze fastened on him as he reached behind her, and with one sensuous tug had her dress unzipped. It slithered down her body and pooled on the floor, leaving her in only a skimpy white lace bra and matching pants—honeymoon underwear, barely serving their purpose, unless it was to inflame—which it did.
Leo let his gaze travel slowly across her barely clothed body, revelling in the beauty of her, desire coiling tighter and tighter inside him.
He placed one hand on her shoulder, sliding it down to her elbow, smoothing her skin. She drew a shuddering breath.
‘Are you cold?’
‘No.’ She shook her head and, needing to touch her more—everywhere—he slid his hand from her elbow to her breast, his palm cupping its slight fullness as he drew his thumb across the aching peak. Alyse let out a little gasp and he smiled, felt the primal triumph of making her respond.
‘I know this is new for you,’ he said quietly and he saw a flash of something almost like anguish in her eyes.
‘Leo...’ She didn’t say anything more and he didn’t want to waste time or energy on words. Smiling, he brushed a kiss across her forehead and then across her mouth before he unhooked her bra and slid it off her arms. He drew her to him, her bare breasts brushing the crisp cotton of his shirt, and even that sensation made him ache. He wanted her so very much.
‘What about your clothes?’ she asked shakily and he arched an eyebrow.
‘What about mine?’
‘They’re on you, for starters.’
He laughed softly. ‘I suppose you could do something about that.’
Her fingers shook only a little as she fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, the tips of her fingers brushing his bare chest. He stood still, everything in him dark and hot from just those tiny touches. Then СКАЧАТЬ