A Bride For The Playboy Prince: The perfect royal romance to celebrate Harry and Meghan’s wedding. Sandra Marton

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СКАЧАТЬ and Lisa didn’t like the way Jason seemed to be hovering over a collection of precious golden artefacts sitting on top of a beautiful inlaid table.

      It was Luc who smoothly but firmly brought the proceedings to an end—and Lisa had to swallow down the sudden tears which sprang to her eyes as she hugged her little niece goodbye, before clinging tightly to her sister.

      ‘I’m going to miss you, Britt,’ she said fiercely.

      And Brittany’s voice wobbled as she hugged her back. ‘But you’ll be back, won’t you, Lisa? My lovely new house is certainly big enough to accommodate my princess sister,’ she whispered. ‘Or we can come out and stay with you in Mardovia. We’ll still see each other, won’t we?’

      Lisa met her sister’s eyes. How did you tell your closest relative you were terrified of being swallowed up by an alien new life which would shut out the old one for good? With a deep breath, she composed herself. You didn’t. You just got on with things and made the best of them, the way she’d done all her life. ‘Of course we will,’ she said.

      ‘Are you ready, Lisa?’ came Luc’s voice from behind her and she nodded, glad that confetti was banned on the surrounding fancy London streets—because she honestly didn’t think she could smile like some happy hypocrite as she walked through a floating cloud of rose petals.

      A car whisked them to the airfield, where they were surrounded by officials. Someone from the Aviation Authority insisted on presenting Lisa with a bouquet, which only added to her feelings of confusion because she wasn’t used to people curtseying to her. It wasn’t until they were high in the sky over France that she found herself alone with Luc at last, and instantly she was subjected to a very different kind of confusion—a sensual tug-of-war which had become apparent the moment the aircraft doors had closed and they were alone together.

      He had changed from his Mardovian naval uniform and was wearing a dark suit which hugged his powerful frame, and his olive skin looked golden and glowing. His long legs were spread out in front of him and, distractingly, she couldn’t stop remembering their muscular power and the way he had shuddered with pleasure as she had coiled her fingertips around them. Her mouth dried and she wondered if he knew how uncomfortable she was feeling as his sapphire gaze rested thoughtfully on her.

      ‘Now, as weddings go...’ he elevated his black brows in a laconic question ‘...was that really so bad?’

      She shrugged. ‘That depends what you’re comparing it with. Better than being adrift at sea for three days with no water, I suppose—though probably on a par with being locked up for life and having the key thrown away.’

      ‘Oh, Lisa.’ The brief glint of amusement which had entered his eyes was suddenly replaced with a distinct sense of purpose. ‘Your independent attitude is something I’ve always enjoyed but this marriage isn’t going to work if you’re going to spend the whole time being obstructive.’

      ‘And what did you think I was going to do?’ she questioned, her voice low because she was aware that although the officials were out of sight, they were still very much present. ‘Fall ecstatically into your arms the moment you slid the ring on my finger?’

      ‘Why not? You wouldn’t hear any objection from me and it’s pretty obvious that the attraction between us is as powerful as it ever was—something which was demonstrated on the night our baby was conceived. And now we’re man and wife,’ he said, sliding his hand over her thigh and leaving it to rest there, ‘isn’t that what’s supposed to happen? Isn’t it a pity to let all this frustrated desire go to waste?’

      Lisa stared down at the fingers which were outlined against the grey silk jersey of her ‘going away’ dress and thought how right they felt. As if they had every right to be there—ready to creep beneath the hem of her dress. Ready to slip inside her panties, which were already growing damp with excitement. She thought about the pleasure he was capable of giving her. Instant pleasure which could be hers any time she liked.

      But something told her that she shouldn’t slip into intimacy with him—no matter how tempting the prospect—because to do so would be to lose sight of his essential ruthlessness. He had brought her here like some kind of possession. An old-fashioned chattel who carried his child. He had married her despite all her protestations, and there hadn’t been a thing she could do about it. She was trapped. The deal had been sealed. She had made her bed and now she must lie in it.

      She just didn’t intend sharing it with him.

      That was the only thing she was certain of—that she wasn’t going to complicate things by having sex with a man who had blackmailed her to the altar. Her resistance would be the key to her freedom, because a man with Luc’s legendary libido would never endure a sexless marriage. Inevitably, he would be driven into the arms of other women and she would be able to divorce him on grounds of infidelity. She pushed his hand away, telling herself it was better this way. Better never to start something which could only end in heartache. But that didn’t stop her body from missing that brief caress of his fingers, from wishing that she could close her eyes and pretend not to care when they slipped beneath her dress and began to pleasure her...

      ‘We may be married,’ she said. ‘But it’s going to be in name only.’

      ‘Do I take that to mean you’re imposing a sex ban?’ he questioned gravely.

      She smoothed down the ruffled silk jersey, which still bore the imprint of his hand, and waited until her heart had stopped racing quite so much. ‘A ban would imply that something was ongoing, which is definitely not the case. We had one night together—and not even a whole night because you couldn’t wait to get away from me, could you, Luc? So please don’t try suggesting that I’m withdrawing something which never really got off the ground.’

      Luc frowned, unused to having his advances rejected, or for a woman to look at him with such determination in her eyes. His power and status had always worked in his favour—but it was his natural charisma which had always guaranteed him a hundred per cent success rate with the opposite sex. Yet he could sense that this time was different. Because Lisa was different. She always had been. He remembered the silent vow he had taken as she’d walked towards him in all her wedding finery. A vow to be the best husband he could. She was a newly crowned princess and she was pregnant—so shouldn’t he cut her a little slack?

      ‘I hear what you say,’ he said. ‘But the past is done, Lisa. All we have is the present. And the future, of course.’

      ‘And I need you to hear this,’ she answered, in a low and fervent voice. ‘Which is that I will perform my role as your princess, at least until after the birth. But I will be your wife in name only. I meant what I said and I will not share a bed with you, Luc. I don’t intend to have sex with you. Be very clear about that.’

      ‘And is there any particular reason why?’ His eyes mocked her, his gaze lingering with a certain insolence on the swell of her breasts. ‘Because you want me, Lisa. You want me very badly. We both know that.’

      There was silence for a moment as Lisa willed her nipples to stop tingling in response to his lazy scrutiny. She swallowed. ‘Because sex can weaken women. It can blind them to the truth, so that they end up making stupid mistakes.’

      ‘And you have experience of this, do you?’

      She shrugged. ‘Indirectly.’

      His voice was cool. ‘Are you going to tell me about it? We need something to do if we aren’t going to celebrate our union in the more conventional manner.’

      Lisa СКАЧАТЬ