Princess's Nine-Month Secret

Rico spread his fingers across her hip, each lean digit creating a burn even through her dress as if he were branding her by his touch. She was so achingly conscious of every part of him, from the hard planes of his chest and thighs to the sure movement of his mouth and the delightful press of his hands. He was everywhere on her, yet she still wanted more, a delicious and insistent ache of need starting at her centre and spreading outwards, right to her fingertips.

She felt so much,she was afraid she might combust, burst into flames right in front of him. How did people experience this and live?

Then, quite suddenly, Rico tore his mouth from hers and took a step away, raking his hands through his hair before dropping them to his sides. Colour blazed along his blade-like cheekbones and his breathing was ragged. He was, it seemed, as affected as she was, or almost, and that was an incredible thought.

Halina’s knees wobbled and she grabbed onto a nearby table to steady herself. She felt the absence of him like a physical thing, everything in her all at once turning empty, cold and aching. For a little while she’d felt so gloriously alive. She couldn’t let it end so quickly. She couldn’t let it end at all.

Because she knew then, no matter how inexperienced and nervous she was, she wanted more. Needed it. She wasn’t done with Rico...and she prayed he wasn’t done with her.

* * *

Rico gazed at Lina thoughtfully, trying to ignore the hectic thud of his own heart. He’d been far more affected by her clumsy kisses than he liked to admit, even to himself. Even in love-making, in the highest heights of his pleasure, he kept his control. To lose it would be another form of weakness, one he despised. He would not be a slave to any emotion, whether it was love or its poorer but equally powerful cousin, lust. He’d decided that a long time ago, when he’d watched someone walk away from him and felt his heart break. Never again. Never again would he allow someone to break something inside him. He wouldn’t even allow himself to be affected...at all. Never would he give in to the weakest emotion of them all, the torment of love.

And as for Lina... He let his gaze sweep over her, noting her flushed cheeks and swollen lips, her ink-dark, wavy hair falling in tumbling waves over her shoulders. Her breath shuddered through her, and artlessly she pressed one hand to her pounding heart. She was just as affected as he was, and she wasn’t even trying to hide it. He didn’t think it had even occurred to her to hide it, to hide anything, and that made her very different from the women he usually bedded.

Those women were beautiful and hard in a sharply glittering way, as determined to get his money as much as they were eager to get into his bed. He gave them pleasure, of that he was certain, but they didn’t respond as Lina just had—trembling and eager, unrestrained and artless, seeming to crave him just for him...which was an intoxicant in and of itself.

‘What is it?’ she asked, her voice a breathy whisper. ‘Why are you looking at me like that?’

‘How am I looking at you?’

‘As if I’m a puzzle you’re trying to solve.’

He laughed; he couldn’t help himself. She was absolutely right and he wasn’t used to that kind of perception, especially from a potential bed partner. ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘That is how I’m looking at you. You intrigue me, Lina.’ More than she should. He didn’t want to be interested in the women he bedded, beyond their capabilities in that particular department.

Yet something about Lina, her utterly unrestrained response, made him pause. And then wonder. Because, he realised, she seemed the one thing he felt he’d never been, at least not since he’d been nine years old and realised that promises could be broken and dreams shattered. Easily.

What had given him pause just now was that Lina seemed innocent. And innocence was a quality in his bed partners he definitely did not want. He’d had enough dreams broken not to want to break anyone else’s, which was why he was so upfront about his relationships, if he could even call the sexual transactions he enjoyed such a thing.

‘I don’t think I’m that complicated, really,’ she said on a laugh, but the sound wobbled and she bit her lip, increasing Rico’s curiosity...and his unease. Why was she acting as if this was all so new to her?

‘Tell me what you were doing tonight at the party,’ he said abruptly. Her eyes widened in surprise at the sudden change of subject.

‘Trying to get into it,’ she answered with a shrug. ‘I didn’t have an invitation, as you realised.’

‘Do you do that often? Try to crash parties you aren’t invited to?’

‘Not...that often,’ Halina said, keeping his gaze, but clearly with effort.

‘But why that party?’ Rico pressed. ‘And why did you want to get into it so badly?’

A frown crinkled her forehead and something flashed in her eyes, something like unease. She was hiding something. But what? He’d already assumed she was a gold-digging mistress-in-expectation. What could she possibly be hiding that would bother him?

‘Why not that party?’ she challenged. ‘It looked fun.’

‘Were you hoping to meet someone in particular?’

She shrugged. ‘I was hoping to have fun.’

Rico swung away from her, annoyed as much with himself for pressing the point as he was with her for her non-answers. What did he care why she’d shown up tonight or what her motives were? What did he care at all? He never had before. And he wouldn’t now.

She was here in his suite for a reason. When she’d kissed him, as clumsily as she had, it had been with a genuine, eager desire. She was willing and so was he. That was all that mattered, surely?

And yet...it was almost as if she’d never been kissed before. She’d been so unrestrained, so open, and it had been that seeming innocence that had enflamed him. Yet surely she couldn’t be as innocent as all that? Surely she wouldn’t be in his suite now if she was?

‘I’ve drunk all my champagne.’

Rico turned to see Lina clutching her glass, a determined tilt to her chin. She held it out and after a second’s pause he reached for the bottle and poured her another glass, the fizz foaming over the top and onto her hand. She laughed and licked off the droplets, a move that seemed as thoughtless and uncomplicated as everything else she did. If it had been another woman, the kind of woman he was used to, he would have thought it a planned part of an attempt to ensnare him. Not that he could ever be ensnared.

‘Cin cin,’ she said again, a note of defiant bravado in her voice, and she lifted her glass to drink. Rico watched her, noting the sinuous movement of her throat as she swallowed, wondering yet again what was making him hesitate.

‘Cin cin,’ he answered automatically, even though he’d discarded his glass already. Slowly Lina lowered her glass, her eyes wide and dark above the rim as she stared at him.

‘I... I should probably go now,’ she said, and that surprised him even more. Was she playing hard to get? Or did she really mean it? And should he let her, considering how uneasy this whole exchange was making him feel? He felt strangely reluctant to watch her walk away, which was irritating and alarming in itself.

‘Do you want to go?’ he asked starkly.

She paused, her tongue darting out to dab a drop of champagne sparkling on her lips. Her gaze was wondering and transfixed as she slowly, so slowly, shook her head. ‘No...no, I don’t. But I probably should.’

‘Should? Why?’

‘Because you’re a dangerous man, Rico Falcone.’ She set the glass on a side table. ‘And you’re way out of my league.’

More honesty that took him by surprise. He wasn’t used to such unvarnished truth. ‘I’m not so dangerous if you know what to expect.’

‘Which is?’

‘A wonderful time and then a farewell.’ He was absolute about that. He would never be left again, never watch someone walk away, leaving his heart in pieces. No, he would watch whomever it was walk away, a smile on his face because he was in control. He was always in control.

‘Ah.’ She nodded slowly. ‘Just like the women said.’

‘Those women in the bathroom?’

‘The very same.’

He walked towards her, a long, loose-limbed, lazy stroll. ‘Forewarned is forearmed, or so they say.’

‘They said you kicked women out of your bed in rather indecent haste.’

‘I suppose it depends on whom you ask.’

He stood in front of her so he could feel the heat coming off her, the desire. Her body trembled. He felt as if they were both on the edge of a glorious precipice; all it would take was for one of them to take that first tumbling step.

‘I really should go.’ Her voice was soft.

‘Don’t play games with me, Lina.’ He met her gaze; her lids were half-lowered in dark challenge. ‘I abhor any kind of dishonesty. If you want to go, go.’ He swept one arm towards the lift. She didn’t move, and if she had he didn’t know what he would have done. Stopped her? Persuaded her to stay in any way that he could? Maybe. Probably.

But Lina stayed still, her gaze darting from the lift back to him. ‘This is madness,’ she whispered.