The Marquis And The Mother-To-Be. Valerie Parv

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      Eduard laced his fingers together on the desk. “In a way, it is. The Merrisand title traditionally passes down my mother’s line to the youngest child. One of her ancestors, also a youngest child, managed to offend a past ruler of Carramer and was given the title as an insult.”

      What did this have to do with her? Still, she couldn’t resist asking, “Why was it an insult?”

      “In Carramer mythology, Merrisand is a place that doesn’t exist except in imagination, what you might call a fool’s paradise.”

      She bristled. “I know I’ve been living in one since I got here, but I don’t think…”

      “I wasn’t referring to you,” he said before she could finish. “My forebear turned the title into an honorable one by setting up a charitable trust in that name. He built Merrisand Castle which still stands as a tourist attraction, the income going to the trust. With the title, I inherited responsibility for the trust. When Prince Henry left me the lodge, I decided to make it into a tourist facility to aid the trust, not unlike your plans for it.”

      “The difference being you own it, I don’t.”

      He gave her a wry smile. “Did you own the hotels you worked in?”

      She stared at him, perplexed. “Are you offering me a job?”

      “You have the skills and experience to run such an establishment, more than I do, come to that. You could set the lodge up and operate it until I finalize my tour with the navy in the next few months.”

      “You have staff coming out of your ears.”

      Her turn of phrase provoked another smile. “Staff, yes. People accustomed to running palaces and royal tours. It’s hardly comparable to looking after tourists.”

      “True.” She quelled the expectancy rising inside her. Could this possibly answer her prayers? “What would I have to do?”

      “Help me set up and run the best tourist facility in Carramer in aid of the Merrisand Trust.”

      “What happens after you leave the navy?”

      “We can discuss that when the time comes.”

      By then she would be noticeably pregnant. Her original plan had been to work steadily on the refurbishing for as long as she could, then take the time she needed to have her baby and recover before opening the place to visitors. Eduard was hardly likely to want to wait that long. She found it hard to say, “Thank you, but I don’t think so.”

      “Why? It’s not as if you have competing offers.”

      She made a face. “You really should stop boosting my ego, or I’ll end up with a swollen head.”

      “I didn’t mean…”

      “Let’s face it, you don’t really want me around. You’re only offering me a job to ease your conscience, but there’s no need. I’ll be fine.” She was probably flouting protocol by not letting him finish. She didn’t care. She only wanted this over with. His job offer tempted her more than she wanted to admit, but her pregnancy made it impossible.

      Overseeing the lodge for someone as demanding as Eduard would entail stress she didn’t need right now. And soon her condition would begin to show. How long would Eduard want her on his payroll then? Better to leave with dignity while she still could.

      “My conscience is clear,” he surprised her by saying. “I didn’t con you into buying a pig in a poke.”

      She hitched her fists onto her hips. “So you’re saying I’m stupid?”

      “How do you figure that?”

      “Well, I must be, mustn’t I? Any woman with half a brain would have seen through that smooth operator, instead of trusting him with every cent she had in the world.”

      This time she did break down, unable to stem the tears cascading down her cheeks. Eduard was at her side in an instant, his arms enfolding her as he murmured to her in the lilting Carramer tongue.

      Twelve years had banished much of the language she’d picked up, but the comfort in his tone reached her, his consideration making her feel worse. She dragged in a lungful of air, trying to stop the sobs welling up from her depths.

      “Don’t fight it, let the tears come,” he said in English. “You’ll feel better afterward.”

      She didn’t want to feel better. She didn’t want to be in his arms, fighting a war with herself over whether to ask him to kiss her again. Hadn’t she learned anything from her experience with her baby’s father, and from the cold way Eduard himself had rejected her? Suddenly she didn’t know if she was crying because of the lousy hand she’d been dealt, or because she knew Eduard wasn’t for her.

      Both were excuses to feel thoroughly miserable, she thought sniffing hard. Pregnancy must be playing havoc with her hormones to make her come apart so completely.

      Eduard offered her a fine lawn handkerchief with his crest embroidered in one corner, a reminder if she needed one, of his status relative to hers. She blew her nose and dabbed at her streaming eyes. “I’m not usually this much of a wimp.”

      “Neither are you entirely well. Maybe we should have this discussion again when you’re fully recovered.”

      He began to rub the small of her back. The circular movement of his hand against her back felt so comforting that she wanted to purr. All the more reason to put some distance between them. Why was she finding it so hard to do?

      “Eduard,” she began diffidently.

      His face was buried in her hair. “Mmmm.”

      “You can let me go now. I’m all cried out.”

      “Maybe I don’t want to let you go.”

      He had been ready enough to do so when she was a teenager. “You can’t make me take the job,” she said.

      “Who said anything about the job? You feel fine right where you are.”

      Heaven help her, she agreed. After her father had died, and then Mark had rejected their child, she’d felt more lonely than she’d thought possible. She wasn’t usually given to self-pity but the realization that she was officially an orphan had created a chasm inside her that seemed impossible to fill. Her father had been an only child, and hadn’t heard from his parents in England in years. He had lost touch with her mother’s family after she’d died. So, apart from her brother, Carissa had no close family. No wonder her desire for a child of her own had overwhelmed her common sense.

      She told herself the surge of pleasure she felt in Eduard’s arms was only because she was lonely. Unable to resist, she lifted her head and looked at him. He must have read the naked need in her gaze, because he bent his head and claimed her mouth, filling her with desire so wild it was like a bushfire tearing through her.

      She tried ordering herself to relax. Hormones, only hormones, she told herself. She wasn’t going to give any man the chance to treat her badly again, remember? So who was that woman answering his kiss with so much passion?

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