The Santina Crown Collection. Кейт Хьюит

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СКАЧАТЬ his own glass and had gone back to the table to pour himself a second one. Wrenched by guilt, he tried to defend himself to himself with a caustic, ‘And do you intend to continue looking for this once-in-a-lifetime love despite the fact that you are now married to me?’

      Why was he doing this? Why did the thought of her turning to another man fill him with such a savagery of emotion that it ran like fire through his veins? Because of the disaster that had been his first marriage. Not because of any other reason.

      ‘No,’ Sophia denied.

      Her voice was filled with so much calm conviction that Ash knew she meant what she was saying. She might claim that she wanted to reject her royal status and upbringing, but right now, no matter how much she herself might deny it should he tax her with it, she was every inch the royal princess bound by her own awareness of the demands placed on her to fulfil her birth role. It was impossible for him not to admit to the respect he felt for her.

      Unaware of his thoughts Sophia confirmed her right to that respect when she told him firmly, ‘I’m not a child, Ash. When I agreed to marry you I knew what I was committing myself to. It’s called growing up. The reality is that I was wrong to think I could persuade my father not to force me into a marriage of which he approved. I recognised that when I heard what he said to you when you telephoned him, just as I also recognised that if I had to have a marriage that would please my father then I would rather it was to you than someone I don’t know. Those of us with royal blood aren’t always free to follow our own dreams. We have a duty to fulfil the role for which we ourselves were created by our own parents.

      ‘If my virginity disappointed you then I’m sorry, but I am as committed to this marriage and to my own fidelity to you within it as I would have been had our marriage been a love match.’ That was certainly true. ‘I never want any of my children to have to wonder if my husband is their father. Never.’

      Ash closed his eyes. Just for a moment, listening to her, he had thought … felt … wanted … What? Nothing, he assured himself grimly. Nothing at all. Unable to trust himself to look at Sophia he picked up his robe and put it on before turning and walking away from her.

      Ash had gone. She was on her own. And she wished that he was here with her. Wasn’t that natural after the intimacy they had just shared? The intimacy? Didn’t she mean the sex? Ash had made the lines that would govern their marriage clear enough to her and she had accepted them. Wallowing in self-pity now was as pointless as looking back at dreams that would only ever be just that.

      So what was she going to do with the rest of her life? What was she going to hang her future on? What goals was she now going to set for herself?

      It wasn’t her fault that she’d never been allowed a proper working role as part of the Santina royal family other than that of appearing at formal functions as ‘our youngest daughter.’ Given the chance, she’d have loved to have had an opportunity to get her teeth into a far more demanding role. She’d once persuaded her mother to allow her to visit a local school and what she’d seen there had filled her with enthusiasm for doing something to help the more needy in their own society, but her father had thoroughly disapproved of the idea. Now, as Ash’s maharani, she naturally had duties that went with that role. Could that be her salvation? Good works instead of love? Love came in many different forms, Sophia reminded herself firmly. Loving Ash’s people because they would now be her people and finding ways to help them would benefit her as much as it would hopefully benefit them. Even so, as she contemplated her future, a small shiver of sadness and loss ran across her heart.

      In his own room Ash couldn’t sleep. The shock not just of discovering that Sophia was a virgin but also of her admission of what her private dreams had been was still sinking in. Now, when it was far too late, he berated himself angrily for not paying more attention to the instinct that had said to him over and over again that there was a vulnerability about her, despite everything he had thought he had known. Why hadn’t he thought more deeply about that? Asked more questions, listened to his instincts? Because he hadn’t wanted to. Because the demands on him of the past, and Nasreen, overshadowed the present. He had a duty never to forget Nasreen and the guilt he felt about her, didn’t he?

      It was too late now to wish that he had taken the time to understand Sophia better. They were married, the marriage had been consummated and they both had no choice now other than to make the best of the situation. She had wanted to marry for love, she had said. Well, if she had mentioned that earlier he could have told her that sometimes marrying for love was the worst thing you could do, especially when the other person didn’t think of ‘love’ in the same terms that you did.

      He slipped out of his robe and headed for his bed, not sure whether it had been the action of removing it that had brought to mind the way Sophia had looked at him when she had seen his naked body, but knowing that whatever had caused it he wished it hadn’t. Being reminded of that right now simply wasn’t something he could summon the strength to deal with.

      What he’d discovered earlier about Sophia had turned everything he had thought he had known on its head. Lying sleepless in a bed that suddenly felt far too empty, he couldn’t hold on to the barriers he wanted to erect against his own emotions. Guilt, pain, a sense of overwhelming loss—he could feel them all.

      Moonlight edging in through the unshuttered windows stroked across the faces and bodies of the two people who slept alone and separated. Sophia’s hand was on the pillow adjacent to her own as though in her sleep she was reaching for something—or someone. Ash’s dreams were vivid with unwanted memories unleashed to torment him. He was a bridegroom approaching his bride on their wedding night. Regret and guilt slowed his progress to where she stood waiting for him, her head bowed, her face veiled. With every step he took towards her the sense of doom filling him grew stronger, but somehow he forced himself to go on. When he reached her he took hold of her veil, pushing it back off her face as she lifted her head.

      The sight of Sophia’s glowing face looking back him, her eyes warm with desire, her lips soft and parted, filled his heart with an intense relief and joy. He took hold of her, drawing her closer to him, his lips seeking hers as he murmured emotionally, ‘Sophia …’

      Abruptly Ash woke up, the clarity of his dream still with him, his heart pounding and thudding into his chest wall. What was happening to him?

      Nothing. Nothing. And to prove it he would stay away from Sophia’s bed until he knew he could take her in it without any shred of emotion threatening his hard-won resolve. This was a marriage of necessity, a marriage that would work because of the duty they both owed to it and to each other. It must not be prejudiced by emotion or by any desire with him that was prompted by any kind of emotion. Once they knew whether or not Sophia had conceived, that would be the time for him to return to her bed. And the ache within him that was burning so fiercely even now must be overcome, because to allow himself to want her was to allow himself to become vulnerable, and he could not permit that.

      CHAPTER SEVEN

      THEY had been married almost three weeks, and not once since that first night had Ash even touched her, never mind taken her to bed again. Did she want him to? Sophia closed her eyes. It made her feel so humiliated to have to admit how badly her body ached for more of the pleasure he had given it. All those years when she had been able to turn down attempts to seduce her without feeling she was missing out on anything had not prepared her for feeling like this: of lying awake and raw with need in the emptiness of her bed; of feeling her body surge with fierce tight longing just at the sight of Ash’s bare throat or arm; of wanting what he had already given her so badly that she had to fight against her need for him. Of course, she had expected to feel like that about the man she loved, but she did not love Ash, he did not love her, and it left a sour and bitter taste in her mouth to know how shamefully СКАЧАТЬ