“Do you think this was easy for me? We are two people from completely different backgrounds and completely different countries who met in a foreign country at a wedding and have spent an incredible time getting to know each other. So incredible I cannot think of anyone else but you. Do you have any idea how hard it is not to touch you right now? To not push you back against that glass and tear off my shirt so I can have you one more time?”
“Is that supposed to be a compliment? Somehow that just makes what you’ve done worse.” Was that all she was to him? A body to use? “You’re despicable. You should have told me.”
“Does it really matter to you? You’re an independent woman. You don’t care about such things like marriage,” he grated.
She winced. The words sounded like an indictment, but Andres had been slowly chipping away at her autonomy. When he came to Atlanta, she dropped everything. Friends and family were put on the back burner so she could spend as much time with him as possible.
“So you decide to punish me because I wouldn’t go along with your plans, Your Royal Highness?”
“You wanted to be here, and I wanted to tell you the truth, in person. But when we came upstairs, you were so…ready.” A flash of heat entered his eyes. “I couldn’t help myself.”
Her cheeks warmed. He truly did look ready to push her against the glass, and if she didn’t know the truth, she would have let him. They’d spend the rest of their time together making love, laughing, and talking in earnest the way they always did. She’d tell him she was ready to uproot her life for him and be the kind of woman she never thought she was. None of that would happen now.
“Lucky for us, we both got the sex out of our system,” she said.
“Our relationship doesn’t have to end. We can continue seeing each other.”
“Oh really? Excuse me if I don’t jump at the chance to continue being with you while you plan your wedding to another woman.” She laughed bitterly. “Or are you making me a different offer? You get married and I continue to be your American side piece? Was that the idea? Be a whore for you the way your grandfather had a whore?”
Color tinged his high cheekbones.
“I should slap you but I don’t want to expel the energy,” she said.
Angela marched by him, intending to go to the bedroom, but he caught her forearm and tugged her back around to look at him.
She yanked her arm away and glared at him with enough heat to pulverize granite into dust. “Don’t you dare touch me.” Her voice quivered, but it wasn’t just with anger. She was hurt. More devastated than she could have ever imagined, and she couldn’t let him know the extent of her pain, how it gnawed at her insides like acid on steroids.
“This is not how I wanted our relationship to end,” he said.
“Then you should have handled the situation better.” She stormed into the bedroom, blinking back tears.
She’d known the relationship would end at some point, but losing him—especially in this way, was so devastating. She couldn’t let him know the extent of her pain. She couldn’t let him know that she was dying inside.
The few weeks between their meetings had become long and untenable. How could she possibly deal with a separation that yawned in front of her like a wide open chasm with no end in sight?
Andres’s firm hands landed on her hips and he spun her around.
“I need you,” he muttered in a husky voice.
She shoved him, and he pushed her onto the bed and fell on top of her.
“If you think—”
“I don’t have to think, I know. You belong to me, Angela. You said so yourself.”
He pinned her wrists above her head and his mouth landed on hers with bruising intensity. She twisted against him, kneeing him in the side, but he continued undeterred. One hand squeezed her breast and her traitorous nipple became a turgid, pointed peak.
He pressed kisses against her neck and then pulled aside the shirt to fasten his mouth over the same breast. She twisted against him again, fighting her own body’s will to succumb to him.
“Andres,” she moaned.
“I am here,” he whispered. He licked her nipple and then released her wrists to slide his other hand between her legs.
She closed her eyes, biting down on her lip as he stroked her with precision. Her head was swimming. The sensations he evoked threatened to overwhelm her.
He released the belt on the robe and it fell open, exposing the magnificence of his hard shaft. She bit down harder on her lip as her body experienced a wrenching ache to have him enter her.
She rested her fists on his shoulders. She should push him away, but couldn’t. Just one more time. She needed him one more time.
She would never be able to touch him again. These were their last moments together, and she didn’t want to waste a single second. This wasn’t about him. She wanted it. She could say goodbye any way she wanted, and this was the way she chose.
The thought of losing him scalded her insides, but she dragged his mouth down to hers and kissed him hungrily, taking her fill. Their bodies rubbed against each other, turning her wet and eager for his possession. She reached between them and circled his hard shaft. He groaned her name, as if he could barely stand to be touched. He kissed her neck, her collarbone, and the swells of her breasts, his breathing harsh as she continued to stroke him.
She shifted so that the tip of him nudged the entrance to her body, and he shoved into her without further prompting, fastening his lips on her neck as he did so. Angela squeezed her eyes shut, giving herself over to the exquisite sensation of him thrusting hard and slow, in and out, each movement of his body catapulting her toward the edge.
She couldn’t stop groaning. He felt so good. He felt like heaven.
She never wanted him to stop.
Andres picked up the phone and dialed. “I’m ready,” he said and hung up.
He walked over to the table and poured himself a glass of orange juice but ignored the pastries, fruit, and eggs on the table. He had no appetite. In a few minutes, his driver would be waiting downstairs to take him to the airport for the flight back to Estoria. In a couple of weeks, his grandfather would announce his decision to abdicate, and then all eyes would be on Andres more than ever.
His body hardened as he recalled mere hours before, when he and Angela lay in bed together. He’d tried to slake his lust and get her out of his system, and they’d essentially worn each other out during the night and into the morning. When she slipped from his arms at dawn, he knew he could no longer hold onto her.
She hardly looked at him and left without even a word of goodbye. As if she couldn’t bear to look at him. He knew she enjoyed their lovemaking and suspected that she resented him for using her body’s own desires against her.
Bitterness festered in his chest, and he laughed sourly at how much his life had changed in a short period. A wave of anguish and anger came to life in a volcanic rush. He tossed the glass of juice across the room. It shattered against the wall, spattering orange across the wallpaper and down onto the hardwood floor.
Mierda. “Forget her.”
He had responsibilities. He had to forget her. And that’s exactly what he intended to do.
22
“Make sure the old man next door doesn’t see you,” Andres said.
Ollie nodded. He climbed out of the SUV and disappeared into the night.
Andres let his head fall back against the seat and raked shaky fingers through his hair. Forgetting about Angela didn’t last. He kept tabs on her and he shouldn’t have. He shouldn’t be here. But ever since they broke up, he’d felt lost. The finality of their split weighed heavy on his mind.
Then to find out that she was already seeing someone, a jealous rage sank its claws into him. He wanted her to explain how she could move on so quickly when he hadn’t had a good night’s sleep since they split two weeks ago in DC. If she’d brought that man home or gone to his house, he didn’t know what he would have done. Someth
ing he would have regretted later but in the moment would have seemed perfectly reasonable in the face of his righteous anger.
Ollie tapped lightly on the car window and Andres joined him outside.
“The back door is open.”
“Good. I’ll be right back.”
“Your Highness…”
“I’ll be fine. I’m only going two blocks away, and I know how to reach you.” Andres held up his left hand and showed him the Cartier watch which was outfitted with a sophisticated alert mechanism. When he pressed and held down the face for two seconds, the watch sent an emergency signal to his security team.
“Very well, sir.” Ollie stepped back.
Feeling a little bit like a criminal, Andres went around to the back of Angela’s house and entered the door Ollie had left open for him. He locked it and waited for his eyes to adjust to the darkness. Then he walked through the house and climbed the stairs. He didn’t hear any sounds until he reached the top level. She was in the bathroom.
He sat down on the bed and waited, while memories of the first time they’d made love in this very bed came back to him in vivid detail. Her writhing body beneath his. The way she whispered his name in a husky plea.
The bathroom door snicked open and Angela came out with a blue towel wrapped around her torso and her damp hair showing its natural wave pattern. She padded barefoot over to the dresser and pulled open one of the drawers.
“Angela.”
She swung around with a little cry and clutched her chest. “Andres! How…how did you get into my house?” Her eyes darted around the room as if she were searching for someone else.
“I needed to see you.”
She gave a short laugh. “Oh, well that makes it perfectly fine for you to break into my home.”
“I was worried you wouldn’t let me in if I came to the front door.”
“You were absolutely correct,” she said tartly.
“Well then, I made the right decision, didn’t I?” he said with a fake smile.
She narrowed her eyes at him. “Why are you here? Do you have more bad news that you had to tell me in person?”
He ignored her barbed question and walked over to where she stood. She tightened the towel around her torso.
“Who was that man you were with two nights ago, at happy hour after work?”
“You were following me?” she said with wide eyes.
“Not me personally.”
“But you had someone do it?”
“Yes,” Andres answered in a clipped tone.
“You had no right.” She put distance between them by walking closer to the bed.
“Maybe I got a little jealous.”
“Jealous?” Angela laughed softly. “Aren’t you supposed to be going through a list of women to choose a wife?”
“Do you intend to throw that in my face every time we speak to each other?”
“I really had no intention of ever speaking to you again, to be quite honest. What with you having to get married and all.”
“This isn’t the way that I wanted things to go, you know that. I wanted to continue seeing you, but you chose to end it.” He wished he could hold or touch her, but her anger kept him at bay.
“Why would I continue to see you when you told me you have to get married? I’m not interested in your little arrangement, so you can go to hell, Andres.”
“Only if you come with me,” he grated.
She glared at him. “What do you want? We’re over. We’re done.”
“I had to see you.” His jaw clenched as he fought back intense emotion. “To stop you from…from…”
“From what? From moving on with my life after you dumped me?”
He didn’t know what he’d expected when he showed up here, but this conversation was not going well at all. “Are you seeing that man?”
“No.”
“Then who is he?”
“None of your business.”
“On the contrary, everything about you is my business.”
She laughed again. “Since when?”
“Since I can’t get you out of my mind. Since I called and you didn’t answer.” His eyes bored into hers and tension made his body rigid.
“I will never answer another phone call from you. He’s my co-worker. We went for drinks. That’s it. Satisfied?”
He almost sagged in relief.
“You shouldn’t be here.”
“I know.” He sank onto the bed and bent his head, his hands curling into fists on his thighs, all of the fight drained from him. “I know, and yet here I am. Because I miss you.”
“It’s only been a couple of weeks,” she said in a low voice.
“It’s been an eternity.”
“Don’t do this,” she said in a trembling voice.
His hand encircled her slender wrist and tugged her forward, his way of signaling that she should straddle him, but she curled her fingers into a fist and stood firm.
“You miss me, too,” he said.
“Of course I do. I can’t turn off my feelings like a faucet.”
He wanted her close. He tugged again, and this time she reluctantly came to stand between his legs. He kissed her belly through the towel. She didn’t pull away from him, and he saw that as a good sign. Bolder, he pulled on the towel and let it fall to the floor.
His hungry gaze swept over her feminine form. Over her breasts capped by caramel-colored nipples, her tawny-gold skin, and down to the strip of hair between her hips.
Gently, he lowered her onto the bed. He kissed her bare shoulder and dragged his tongue along the dip in her collarbone. She smelled and tasted so good, he wanted to swallow her whole.
His mouth found hers and indulged in the softness and sweetness of her lips. This wasn’t why he’d come, but his body was hard, and his erection strained against his pants.
She whimpered and cupped the back of his head, kissing him back wholeheartedly, making him believe for a split second that he could have heaven again. Then she froze. Her kisses stopped and her hand fell away. Andres lifted his head and saw that sadness filled her eyes.
“Don’t do this to me again. We already said goodbye.”
“Angela…” He dropped his head to her shoulder. “You know I had no choice.”
“Yes, I do. So why are you here?” she asked in a thick voice. “Nothing is going to change. Go back to Europe and marry your princess or whatever you’re supposed to do. Leave me alone. Stop hurting me.”
He felt her hurt like his own. He hurt, too.
“What you’re doing isn’t fair. It’s selfish. Love isn’t selfish,” Angela said.
She couldn’t have hurt him more if she’d driven a stake through his heart.
Andres lifted up from the bed. “You’re right.” He always got what he wanted, and he was determined to hold onto her, though he knew he shouldn’t. That wasn’t fair to her. His behavior was reprehensible. “I won’t bother you again.”
Andres didn’t look back. He went down the stairs and out the back the way he’d come. He trudged through the grass and walked the couple of blocks to the waiting sedan.
Ollie, leaning against the vehicle, straightened when he saw Andres. “Your Highness…?”
Andres didn’t make eye contact. “We’re going home,” he said.
He let himself into the car and shut the door.
23
Angela sat outside her parents’ home, dreading the conversation she needed to have with them. Finally, she worked up the nerve and exited the car. She walked in a daze up the driveway. Per usual, Rebecca’s red sedan was parked there, but she hoped her sister wasn’t around. She needed privacy to speak to her parents.
She still couldn’t believe what she’d learned today. She’d taken the day off to run some errands, one of which was to go to the doctor. A couple of days ago she could no longer ignore the fact that she hadn’t had a period in a while. She’d taken three pregnancy tests, all of them positive, and still she’d been in denial.
Until today.
Today she learned that she was pregnant and had no clue what to do.
It was strange to think of herself as pregnant because she hadn’t noticed any changes in her body. None of the ones that she typically heard about, anyway. She rested a hand on her stomach in amazement. No morning sickness, no cravings, no tiredness, and no tender breasts. Yet she was definitely pregnant.
She entered the house and her mother came toward her with her arms outstretched.
“Hello, baby,” she said.
“Hi, Mom.” Angela squeezed her mother back. “Where’s Becky?”
“Upstairs asleep.” Her mother kept her voice neutral, but Angela knew that she was not pleased Rebecca was still there.
“Where’s Dad?”
“In the den watching TV. I was upstairs when I saw your car pull up.”
They entered the den, and sure enough her father, Martin, sat in his recliner with his legs up, watching the news. His hand rested on the remote on the arm of the chair, and he wore glasses perched on his nose.
“Hey, there. Is that my baby?” he asked with a wide grin.
“Yes, it’s me.” Angela bent down and kissed his ruddy cheek. She ran a hand over his silky brown hair. “You have a few more gray strands,” she teased.
He chuckled. “When men get gray hair it makes them look distinguished, don’t you know.”
“That’s so unfair,” her mother said. Tessa sat down on the sofa next to her husband’s chair.
Martin shrugged. “I don’t make the rules.”
“What brings you by? Not that we’re not happy to see you, but we know how busy you are with your job and everything, and you’re here in the middle of the week during work hours.” Tessa crossed her legs.
Angela took a deep breath. “I have something to tell you. Dad, do you mind turning off the TV?”
Her parents glanced quickly at each other, but her father did as she requested.
“What is it, dear?” Concern filled her mother’s dark eyes.
Princess of Estoria (Royal Brides Book 2) Page 13
