Crown Prince's Bought Bride

by Maya Blake

  Fingers firmly gripping hers, he led her to the polished dance floor to the sound of a slow waltz. Her pulse raced faster and she fought to breathe as he gently raised her injured arm and laid it against his chest. Then one hand glided around her waist, resting there as his gaze speared hers.

  She followed his lead, and strove not to react to his magnetic proximity as he started to move.

  Of course the Crown Prince of Montegova danced with elegant, breathtaking sophistication.

  Very much aware that even more gazes were fixed on them, she attempted to find another subject for hers. And ended up meeting those enigmatic silver-grey eyes again. Eyes that saw far too much.

  ‘Why not just tell them you’re not interested?’ she asked, a little too unsettled to guard her tongue.

  ‘Excuse me?’

  ‘There seems to be some sort of competition going on about who can get your attention. If you’re not interested, why not just let them know?’

  As if on cue, a stunning redhead twirled by a few minutes later. Completely ignoring the man accompanying her, she sent Remi a sultry smile.

  Spikes of irritation, and another emotion she staunchly rejected as being jealousy, impaled Maddie. ‘It must be hard, having women throw themselves so blatantly at you.’

  For some reason her tart observation amused him, and his sensual lips curved with the barest twitch.

  ‘Something funny?’

  ‘It seems I’ve offended you again. You didn’t strike me as having delicate sensibilities before.’

  ‘I don’t,’ she denied hotly, then attempted to pull herself from his arms.

  ‘What do you think you’re doing?’

  ‘The waltz is over. Let me go, please.’

  In contrast to her demand, his hand tightened on her waist. ‘We’re under scrutiny, Maddie. This isn’t the time to make a scene.’

  ‘Oh, really? I...’

  Her words trailed off as his head dropped in a slow but inexorable descent that announced his intention to do precisely as he pleased.

  She had time to move away...time to place a hand on that broad chest and stop him from doing something that she knew in her bones would intensify the cyclone tearing through her. She didn’t do either.

  Her breath strangled to nothing, she watched Remi Montegova’s imperious head lower until his lips were a scant centimetre from hers. Her gaze locked on his and she waited, felt his breath wash over her face as he stretched out the moment until her every sense screamed with a rabid, alien hunger, before slanting his mouth over hers.

  As kisses went, the hard but brief imprint of his mouth over hers shouldn’t have made such a stomach-churning impact. It shouldn’t have rooted her to the spot, made the music echoing in the ballroom or the people within its walls seem to disappear.

  But the ferociously intense look in his eyes and the searing brand of his kiss made Maddie experience every nanosecond of it with a vividness that promised she wouldn’t forget or dismiss it any time soon, and the eye contact he maintained as he delivered the searing kiss electrified her to her very toes.

  As slowly as he’d commenced the thrilling assault he retreated, giving her time to absorb the shivers rolling through her, the flames flickering insistently in her belly and the wild tingling between her legs.

  It was that last damning sensation that pulled her up short, helped her fill her lungs with much needed oxygen as she attempted to make sense of what had happened.

  ‘What...what are you doing?’ she whispered under her breath.

  The overwhelmingly male figure before her smiled, and a hand she didn’t recall releasing hers joined the other at her waist in a firm hold. ‘Extending the parameters of our association,’ he said.

  ‘I don’t recall agreeing to...this.’

  He stepped back, his face tightening a touch. To everyone else the Crown Prince would be a picture of elegant royalty and sophistication. But she was catching glimpses of the man underneath. Beneath the façade there was ferocious determination. An iron will. And a dark anguish.

  It was too overwhelming.

  Before she could recover her thoughts, he settled his hand on the small of her back and led her out of the ballroom, not stopping until they were outside.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  OUTSIDE, A LIGHT DRIZZLE was falling, creating puddles on the pavement.

  Maddie gathered the hem of her evening gown, preparing for a quick dash to the limo. But she froze as Remi stayed her with his hand, and watched, a little stunned, as he shrugged out of his tuxedo and draped it over her shoulders.

  The enfolding warmth and intimacy of his body heat heightened the already surreal atmosphere, so when he stared down at her for a moment before laying a hand in the small of her back and nudging her gently towards the waiting limo, she didn’t protest.

  The driver hurried towards them with a large umbrella. Remi took it from him, holding it over her head as the drizzle intensified.

  She attempted to tell herself the chivalrous act was for show, but the idea wouldn’t stick. Unlike his half-brother, Remi exuded magnetic charm, as well as other larger-than-life characteristics, some of which set her teeth on edge. But every single one commanded attention, focused on the simple fact that he was head and shoulders above others. A man who did exactly as he pleased.

  Which circled her racing thoughts back to the fiancée he’d mentioned. She was still attempting to throttle that curiosity when the limo pulled away.

  The shift of air shrouded her in his scent once again. More than a little agitated, she sat up and started to shrug off his tuxedo. ‘Take this back.’

  He shook his head. ‘No, keep it on. Your temperamental English weather is out in full force,’ he quipped, nodding out of the window to where rain lashed the windows.

  For a moment she watched the hypnotic diagrams the rainwater drew on the glass. For as long as she could remember she’d loved storms. She loved watching the rain wash the world clean. Now, ensconced in the limo with Remi, watching the rain fall felt almost too intimate.

  She cleared her throat and turned to find him watching her. ‘Can we talk about what happened? And, more importantly, can we agree that it’ll never happen again?’ she stressed, relieved when her voice emerged briskly.

  His eyes gleamed in the dark. ‘You find what I did so objectionable?’

  There was a peculiar throb in his voice that sent tingles down her spine.

  ‘I prefer to have a say in when advances like that are made on me,’ she said.

  ‘Did you have such an agreement with Jules?’

  The question was fired at her.

  ‘Excuse me?’

  ‘You may not have responded when he kissed you, but you didn’t protest either.’ His intense gaze dropped to her lips. ‘Did you agree that he could kiss you?’

  ‘No! For your information, that kiss took me by surprise too. And frankly I’m done being manhandled by you and your kin. So shall we add that to the ground rules?’

  ‘No.’ His expression hardened before his gaze reconnected with hers. ‘That will not be necessary because it won’t happen again.’

  Something irritatingly resembling disappointment pounded through her. From the moment she’d set eyes on him he’d messed with her equilibrium. The harder she tried to regain her footing, the faster she spun out of control. It needed to stop.

  They pulled up to the hotel, under the thankfully wide awning erected at the front entrance. Remi didn’t seem in a hurry to reclaim his jacket, and his hand returned to the small of her back the moment they stepped out of the vehicle.

  Despite the stark admonition to herself to regain her equilibrium as soon as possible, she couldn’t stop herself from inhaling his scent with every breath, nor halt the awareness flaring over her skin when they entered the lift.

  In the mirror’s reflection his should
ers looked broader beneath his pristine white shirt, the cut of his torso delineating a physique most men only dreamed about. She was so busy ogling his body she didn’t notice the lift had arrived at his floor and the doors had slid open until she caught his hooded scrutiny through the mirror.

  Heat flew into her cheeks, her mortification intensifying when his gaze turned chilly. But with twisted gratitude she absorbed the sharp rejection, let it throw off the haze that threatened to shroud her.

  Stepping out of the lift, she shrugged off his jacket and held it out to him. ‘I don’t need this any more. Thank you.’ Her voice was husky with hurt but she didn’t care.

  He took it, the brush of his fingers stimulating another shiver that set her teeth on edge. She needed to get her faculties back under control, because this was insane.

  ‘Goodnight, Your Highness,’ she threw over her shoulder as she marched towards her suite, conscious that he was watching her. Against her will, she hesitated with one hand on the door.

  ‘Sleep well,’ was all he said before he sauntered off, one finger hooked into his jacket and a supreme confidence in his swagger that made her want to keep staring at him.

  In direct contravention of that need Maddie whirled away, entered the junior suite she’d been assigned by Percy, under Remi’s instruction, and shut the door behind her.

  The suite was a smaller version of Remi’s but no less breathtaking. Her breath caught all over again as she looked around, scrutinised the paintings and objets d’art dotted around the room. Everywhere she looked she saw a reflection of royalty, power, prestige. There was even a photo of a monarch bearing a striking resemblance to Remi shaking hands with a president.

  But not even the magnificence of her surroundings could curb the tiny tremors that continued to radiate through her body as she relived their kiss. Even now her fingers itched to trace her mouth, soothe the tingles that should have passed.

  An hour later, Maddie tossed and turned for the umpteenth time, punched her pillow in a vain effort to settle, then with a start realised she hadn’t thought of her father all evening. She’d been so absorbed by Remi she’d forgotten to make her check-in call.

  Guilt flaying her, she eyed the clock. It was after midnight. If by some miracle he’d combatted his insomnia, all she’d be doing was disturbing his rest.

  She sank into the pillow, praying for similar oblivion to take her thoughts from the man who’d captivated her senses.

  Her prayer wasn’t answered. The moment she closed her eyes, her mind veered back to Remi. To the dance. To that kiss.

  The kiss she didn’t want to happen again, she reiterated to herself.

  She lived with the harsh consequences of trusting her emotions every day. Greg had used their childhood friendship to betray her. And, while her agreement with Remi was signed in indelible ink, both men were of the same ilk, judging and treating those less fortunate than themselves as unworthy.

  She wasn’t about to make the same mistake twice.

  Against her better judgment, she reached for her phone and typed his name into an internet search engine. And there, in vivid Technicolor, lay the evidence she wasn’t sure was wise to see.

  Celeste Bastille had been stunning, in a gentle, doe-eyed way that showed she’d been born to be the perfect foil for a man like Remi. The daughter of French and Montegovan aristocracy, she exuded poise and charm in every picture Maddie uncovered, her utter devotion to the man at her side clear in every look.

  Maddie only managed to look at a few before she tossed her phone away. Remi still loved her, if that expression of guilt and anguish on his face early this evening was any indication.

  Her heart lurched at the thought of what such loss would have done to a man living in the public eye. And not just any man. A crown prince with a duty to his kingdom and future throne. A crown prince who’d lost his princess.

  No. Despite the fiery insanity of that kiss, she couldn’t fool herself into thinking it was anything but a throwaway reaction for Remi. And henceforth her best course of action would be to have minimal, only strictly necessary contact with Remi, and keep her father at the forefront of her mind.

  But as sleep took her she knew that task might be easier said than achieved.

  * * *

  Kissing her had been a mistake.

  Remi grimaced as he swallowed a mouthful of cognac. The smooth heat did nothing to burn away the guilt riding him. Nor did it lessen the pounding arousal flooding his manhood.

  To make matters worse, his desperate scramble to recall Celeste’s voice, her laugh, her gentle manner, had failed him for a few shameful seconds. Replaced with vibrant green eyes, a husky laugh, a defiant chin and bee-stung lips.

  He shouldn’t have kissed her.

  Telling himself he had done it for the cogent reason of freeing himself from unwanted attention so he could preserve Celeste’s memory felt hollow in the aftermath of the savage hunger it had awakened in him.

  He’d enjoyed the sensation of holding another woman in his arms. Tasting her warm, willing flesh. Hearing that hitch in her breathing that signalled an arousal that matched his.

  Worst of all was his inability to wrestle that beast of arousal under control. But what he’d done might have worked. No doubt there would now be a scramble to find out who the woman was who’d made Crown Prince Remi Montegova act so out of character.

  Because even with Celeste he’d resisted even simple public displays of affection, never mind giving in to the ravaging lust that clawed through him.

  His skin tightened with guilt as the silent promise he’d made to his dying fiancée returned to haunt him. His fingers tightened around his glass. He hadn’t sinned yet. Hadn’t taken another woman into his heart.

  But you’re thinking about taking another woman to your bed.

  A necessity. For the sake of his kingdom.

  Excuses.

  The cold blanket of grief and guilt settled more heavily as his gaze skated over the view of night-time London. The simple truth was that he’d let Celeste down. She was dead because he’d failed her.

  Remi veered away from his censorious reflection in the living room window.

  His mother’s second phone call this afternoon, questioning his motives, had riled him. He was already aware that his inability to fully control himself around Maddie Myers might reap unpalatable consequences. His mother pointing it out hadn’t pleased him. Only his assurance that he was returning home in another day had appeased her.

  As for her insistence that he choose a wife...

  If he rid himself of his hunger with Maddie, then on his return home he could focus on the more rewarding task of governing Montegova.

  Celeste had understood what sacrifice meant. Would she have understood this decision?

  He headed for his bedroom, his every step dogged by duelling emotions of guilt and arousal. But through it all the thrill heating his blood only grew hotter.

  It was still present the next morning as he flicked through the financial section of the morning paper. Sunrise had brought more coverage of him in the social pages and another call from his mother.

  It had taken exactly one minute of examining the front page and its breathtaking picture of Maddie to stoke the fire in his groin and deepen the decision that had taken hold of him somewhere between dawn and sunrise.

  She was a beautiful woman. There was no denying that. In his world, women like her were a dime a dozen. But there was something more about her that snagged his attention. Something that compelled his gaze now, as she approached the dining table. Something unsettling that wouldn’t let him ignore the hypnotic sway of her hips and the proud rise of her breasts.

  It was deeper than common lust and, whatever it was, it armed itself in preparation to battle his unrelenting guilt.

  ‘Good morning,’ she murmured when she reached him.

  Re
mi folded the newspaper, took time to wrestle himself under control—because duty and loyalty demanded precedence over blind, red-hot lust—then took his time to assess her. She wore a blush-pink off-the-shoulder sweater that bared one creamy shoulder and a grey knee-length skirt that cradled her hips before flaring at the knees. Tasteful clothes, which somehow managed to look sinfully decadent on her body.

  He shifted in his seat in a vain attempt to decrease the pressure behind his fly. ‘You slept well, I hope?’ he asked.

  She sat down and smiled her thanks at the coffee-pouring Percy before deigning to glance his way. ‘No, not really.’

  He frowned at the bolt of concern that shot through him, wrestled it down until his butler had departed. ‘Is it your arm? Do you need further medical attention?’

  Her sling was back in place, but she shook her head. ‘No. My insomnia had less to do with my injuries and more to do with missing my own bed.’

  ‘Considering where you live, I find that hard to believe.’

  Bright green eyes flicked to him. ‘And here I was hoping the insults wouldn’t start until I’d at least armed myself with caffeine.’

  Remi’s insides tightened. For some absurd reason, this woman burrowed beneath his skin with very little effort. It was aggravating. And peculiarly stimulating. ‘Does my honesty offend you?’

  ‘There’s honesty and there’s brutal honesty. I’m a firm believer in using the latter as a last resort,’ she said, meeting his gaze with eyes filled with censure.

  Remi felt a spark of surprise. Very few people dared to challenge him any more. Evidently this brave creature wanted to be one of the few. He didn’t know whether to smile or put her in her place.

  ‘Tell me why you didn’t sleep well,’ he found himself demanding as he buttered a piece of toast, placed it within reach of her left hand and did the same with a small platter of fruit.

  ‘Thank you,’ she murmured, her eyes dropping to her coffee cup. ‘I promised to check in with my father last night and I forgot.’

  ‘As you said yourself, you’re a grown woman—not a teenager with a curfew.’