Crowned for the Prince's Heir

by Sharon Kendrick

  * * *

  Luc stared unseeingly at the screen of his phone until the regular sound of Lisa’s breathing told him she was sleeping. It was torture to sit beside her without touching her—when all he wanted to do was to slip his hand beneath her dress and make her wet for him.

  He was silent throughout the journey and it was only as they began to edge towards London that he glanced out of the window and began to notice his surroundings. The city was still buzzy as he leaned forward and quietly told the driver to go to Lisa’s address.

  ‘You want me to drop you off on the way, boss?’ asked the driver.

  Luc glanced at his watch. Tempting to call it a night and get away from the enticement she presented, but he owed her more than waking up alone in an empty car. She didn’t deserve that. The frown at his brow deepened. She’d never given him any trouble. She hadn’t tried to sell her story to the press or to capitalise on her royal connections, had she?

  ‘No,’ he said. ‘Let’s take her home first.’

  But he was surprised when the car changed direction and entered the badly lit streets of an unfamiliar neighbourhood, where rubbish fluttered on the pavement and a group of surly-looking youths stood sucking on cigarettes beneath a lamp post. Luc frowned as he remembered the ordinary but very respectable apartment she’d had before. What the hell was she doing living somewhere like this?

  As the car slid to a smooth halt, he reached out and gently shook her awake.

  ‘Wake up, Lisa,’ he said. ‘You’re home.’

  Lisa didn’t want to leave the dream—the one where she was still locked in Luc’s arms and he was about to kiss her. But the voice in her ear was too insistent to ignore and her eyes fluttered open to see the Prince leaning over her, his face shadowed.

  Feeling disorientated, she sat up and looked around. She was home—and she didn’t want to be. Still befuddled, she bent to cram her feet back into her shoes and picked up her silver clutch bag. ‘Thanks,’ she said.

  ‘This is where you live?’

  She heard the puzzled note in his voice and understood it instantly. She bet he’d never been somewhere like this in his privileged life. For a split second she was tempted to tell him that she was just staying here while her own home was being redecorated, but she quickly swallowed the lie. Why be ashamed of what she was and who she’d become?

  ‘Yes,’ she said, her voice still muzzy from sleep. ‘This is where I live.’

  ‘You’ve moved?’ he demanded. ‘Why?’

  ‘I told you that Brittany had a baby and the three of them were cramped in a too-small apartment. So...’ She shrugged. ‘We just did a swap. It made sense. I’m planning to get myself something better when—’

  ‘When business picks up?’ he questioned astutely.

  ‘When I get around to it,’ she said quickly. Too quickly. ‘Anyway, thanks for taking me to the party. Hopefully, I’ll have drummed up some new business and it...well, it was good to catch up.’

  ‘Yeah.’ Their eyes met. ‘I’ll see you to the door.’

  ‘Honestly, there’s no need.’ She flashed him a smile. ‘I’m a big girl now, Luc.’

  ‘The subject isn’t up for debate,’ he said coolly. ‘I’ll see you to your door.’

  The night air was still warm on her bare arms yet Lisa shivered as Luc fell into step beside her. But it wasn’t shame about him seeing her home which was bothering her—it was the sudden sense of inevitability which was washing over her. The realisation that this really was goodbye. Fishing the key from her bag, she fumbled with the lock before turning back to face him, unprepared for the painful clench of her heart and an aching sense of loss. She would never see him again, she realised. Never know that great rush of adrenaline whenever he was close, or the pleasurable ache of her body whenever he touched her. For a split second she found herself wondering why she’d been stupid enough to finish with him, instead of eking out every available second until her royal lover had ended the relationship himself. She’d done it to protect herself from potential heartache, but what price was that protection now?

  Sliding her arms around his neck, she reached up on tiptoe and brushed her lips over his. ‘Be happy,’ she whispered. ‘Goodnight, Luc.’

  Luc froze as the touch of her lips ignited all his repressed fantasies. He felt it ripple over his skin like the tide lapping over dry sand as he tried to hold back. He told himself that kissing a man was predatory and he didn’t like predatory women. He was the master—in charge of every aspect of his life—and he’d already decided that no good could come from a brief sexual encounter.

  Yet his throat dried and his groin hardened as the warmth of her body drew him in, because this was different. This was Lisa and her kiss was all the things it shouldn’t be. Soft yet evocative—and full of passionate promise. It reminded him of just how hot she’d been in his bed and yet how cool the next morning.

  And it was over.

  It had to be over.

  So why wasn’t he disentangling her arms and walking back towards his purring limousine? Why was he pushing her through her door and slamming it shut behind them? A low moan of hunger erupted from somewhere deep inside him as he pushed her up against the wall and drove his mouth down on hers.

  CHAPTER THREE

  LUC WAS AWARE of little other than a fierce sexual need pumping through his veins as he crushed his lips down on Lisa’s. He barely noticed the cramped hallway as he levered her up against the peeling wallpaper, or the faint chill of damp in the air as her arms closed around him. He was aware of nothing other than her soft flesh and the hard jerk of the erection which throbbed insistently at his groin.

  He kissed her until she cried out his name. Until she circled her hips over his with a familiar restlessness which made him slide his hand underneath the hem of her silver dress. His heart pounded. Her legs were bare and her thighs were cool and he could hear the silent scream of his conscience as his fingertips began their inevitable ascent. He thought about all the reasons why this shouldn’t happen, but he was too hot to heed caution and this was too easy. As easy as breathing. He swallowed. With her it always had been that way.

  She gave a shuddering little moan as he reached her panties and the sound only fuelled his own hunger.

  ‘Luc,’ she gasped.

  But he didn’t answer. He was too busy sliding the panties aside to provide access for his finger. Too busy reacquainting himself with her moist and eager flesh. He teased her clitoris until she bucked with pleasure and he could smell the earthy scent of sex in the air.

  ‘Hell, you’re responsive,’ he ground out.

  ‘Are you surprised when you touch me like...that?’

  Her hands were reaching blindly for his zip and Luc held his breath as she eased it down. His trousers concertinaed to the ground like those of a schoolboy in an alley, and her dextrous hands were now dealing with his boxer shorts—peeling them down until his buttocks were bare. She was cupping his balls and scraping her fingernails gently over their soft swell and in response he reached down and tore her panties apart with a savage rip of the delicate material. Her low laugh reminded him of how much she liked to be dominated in the bedroom and, although his conscience made one last attempt to tell him this was wrong, ruthlessly, he erased it from his mind. Halting her just long enough to remove a condom from his pocket, he tore open the foil with unsteady fingers before sheathing himself.

  And then it was happening and there didn’t seem to be a damned thing he could do about it. It was as if he were on a speeding train with no idea how to stop. He cupped her bottom so that she could wrap her legs around his hips. Her lips were parted against his cheek and her breasts were flattened against his chest.

  ‘Are you sure you want this?’ he whispered, his tip grazing provocatively against her slick flesh.

  Her words came out as gasps. ‘Are you?’

  ‘I’ll give you three guesses,’ he murmured and drove deep into her.

  His thrusts were urgent and her cries
so loud that he had to kiss them silent. It was mindless and passionate and it was over very quickly. She came almost instantly and so did he, hot seed spurting into the rubber and making his body convulse helplessly. He pressed his head against her neck and, as one of her curls attached itself to his lips, he wished it hadn’t been so brief. Why the hell hadn’t he taken his time? Undressed her slowly and tantalised them both, while demonstrating his legendary control?

  He cupped his hand over her pulsating mound, feeling the damp curls tangling in his fingers and enjoying the last few spasms as they died away. Already he could feel himself growing hard and knew from experience that Lisa would like nothing better than to do it all over again. But he couldn’t stay for a repeat performance. No way. He needed to get out of there, and fast. To forget this had ever happened and put it to the back of his mind. To get on with his future instead of stupidly allowing himself to be dragged back into the past. He bent down and tugged his trousers back up, struggling to slide the zip over his growing erection, before glancing around the cramped hallway.

  ‘Bedroom?’ he questioned succinctly.

  She swallowed. ‘Third door along.’

  It wasn’t difficult to find in such a small apartment, and he thought the room was unremarkable except for the rich fabric which covered a sagging armchair and a small vase of fragrant purple flowers on the windowsill. Luc drew the curtains and snapped on a small lamp, intending just to see her safely in bed. To kiss her goodbye and tell her she was lovely—maybe even cover her up with a duvet and suggest she get some sleep. But somehow it didn’t quite work out that way. Because once inside her bedroom it seemed a crime not to pull the quicksilver dress over her head and feast his eyes on her body. And an even bigger crime not to enjoy the visual fantasy of her lying on top of the duvet, wearing nothing but an emerald-green bra and a pair of sexy high-heeled shoes.

  ‘Lisa,’ he said, thinking how hollow his voice sounded.

  In the soft lamplight he could see the bright gleam of her eyes.

  She wriggled a little, her thighs parting fractionally in invitation. ‘Mmm...?’

  Luc knew she was teasing him and that this was even more dangerous. He told himself he didn’t want to get back into that special shorthand of lovers or remind himself how good this part of their relationship had always been. Yet somehow his body was refusing to heed the voice of reason as he took her hand and guided her fingers to the rocky hardness at his groin.

  ‘Seems like I want you again,’ he drawled.

  She laughed as her fingers dipped beneath the waistband and circled his aroused flesh. ‘No kidding?’

  ‘What do you think we ought to do about it?’ he questioned silkily.

  Her voice grew husky as she mimicked his voice. ‘I’ll give you three guesses.’

  His mouth was dry as he undressed them both, impatiently pushing their discarded clothing onto the floor as he reacquainted himself with her curves. He groaned as she caressed the tense muscles of his thighs with those beautiful long fingers. Her curls tickled him as she bent to slide her tongue down over the hollow of his belly. But when she reached the tip of his aching shaft, he grabbed a thick rope of curls.

  ‘No,’ he said unsteadily.

  ‘But you like—’

  ‘I like everything you do to me, Lisa, I always did. But this time I want to take it a bit more slowly.’ He groaned as he pushed her back against the mattress and leaned over her, his eyes suddenly narrowing. ‘But you do realise that this changes nothing? I’m still not in a position to offer you any kind of future.’

  Her smile was brittle. ‘Don’t make this all about you, Luc,’ she said. ‘It’s supposed to be about mutual pleasure.’

  A spear of jealousy ran through him. ‘And have you had many other lovers?’ he questioned. ‘A stream of men lying just like this on your bed?’”

  ‘You have no right to ask me something like that.’

  ‘Is that a yes?’

  She shook her head but now her voice was shaking with indignation.

  ‘If you must know, there’s been nobody since you,’ she declared. ‘And before you start reading anything into that—don’t bother. There hasn’t been time for sex, that’s all. I’ve been juggling too many balls and trying to keep my business afloat.’

  But Lisa knew she wasn’t being completely honest as she heard his low laugh of triumph. Of course there hadn’t been anybody else—because who could compare to the arrogant Prince? Who else could make her feel all the stuff that Luc did? But he didn’t want feelings—he wasn’t in the market for that and he never had been. Hadn’t he just emphasised that very fact? So pretend you don’t care. Show him you’re independent and liberated and not building stupid fantasies which are never going to happen.

  ‘And just to put your mind at rest, yes—I do realise you’re not in the market for a wedding ring,’ she added drily.

  For a moment she felt him grow tense—as if he was going to say something—and she looked up at him expectantly. But the moment passed and instead he bent his head to kiss her—a kiss that was long and slow and achingly provocative. It made her remember with painful clarity just what she’d been missing. The intimate slide of his fingertips over her skin. The way he could play her body as if he were playing a violin. He grazed his mouth over her swollen breasts, teasing each nipple with his teeth as her hands clutched at the bedclothes beneath her.

  She realised she was still wearing her shoes and that the high heels were in danger of ripping through the cotton duvet. She bent one knee to unfasten the buckle but he forestalled her with an emphatic shake of his head.

  ‘No,’ he growled as he straddled her, his finger reaching down to caress the leather as if it were an extension of her own skin. ‘The shoes stay.’

  She could feel the weight of his body and his erection pressing against her belly. He put his hand between her thighs and started to stroke her and Lisa wondered how she could have lived without this for so long.

  ‘Luc,’ she breathed as a thousand delicious sensations began to ripple over her.

  His thumb stilled. ‘You want more?’

  She wanted him to hold her tightly and tell her how much he’d missed her, but she was never going to get that. So concentrate on what he can give you.

  ‘Much more,’ she said, coiling her arms around his neck. ‘I want to feel you inside me again.’

  He made her wait, eking out each delicious touch until she was almost weeping with frustration. She could feel the wetness between her thighs as he pushed them apart at last and heard his soft words of French as he entered her.

  There was triumph as well as pleasure in his smile as he started to thrust his pelvis and suddenly Lisa wanted to snatch some of the control back. With insistent hands she pushed at his chest and, their bodies still locked, rolled him onto his back so that she was now on top. She saw the light of pleasure which danced in his eyes as she cupped her breasts and began to play with them, tipping her head backwards so that her curls bounced all the way down her back.

  ‘Lisa!’ Now it was his turn to gasp as he clamped his hands over her hips, anchoring her to him as their movements became more urgent. He pulled her head down so that he could kiss her, the movement of his tongue mimicking the more intimate thrusts he was making deep inside her.

  Lisa shuddered because it felt so real. So primitive. This was the most alive she’d felt in a long time. Maybe ever.

  She found herself wanting to rake her fingernails over his flesh—even though he’d always been so insistent she shouldn’t mark him. But suddenly the desire to do just that was too strong to resist. Caught in a moment made bittersweet by the knowledge that it would never be repeated, she felt the first waves of her orgasm as she touched her lips to his shoulder. The first ripple of pleasure hit her and just before it took her under, she bit him. Bit him and sucked at his flesh like some rookie vampire, and the salty taste of his sweat and his blood on her lips only seemed to intensify her pleasure. His too, judging by the
ragged cry he gave as he bucked inside her.

  Afterwards she lay there, slumped against his damp body—not wanting to move or speak or to do anything which might destroy the delicious sense of completeness which enveloped her.

  Go to sleep, she urged him silently as she listened to the muffled pounding of his heart. Go to sleep and let’s pretend we’re two normal people one last time. I can make you toast and coffee in the morning, and we can sit on stools in my tiny kitchen and forget that you’re a prince and I’m a commoner before you walk out of my life for good.

  But he was wide awake. She could tell from the tension in his body and the way he suddenly eased himself out of her body. Without a word, he pushed back the sheet and got out of bed.

  ‘Luc?’ she questioned, but he had switched on the main light and was walking over to the oval mirror which hung on the wall.

  The harsh light emphasised just how cheap the room must look to a man used to palaces—throwing into relief the threadbare rug and the chipped paintwork which she hadn’t yet got around to restoring. Tipping his head back, he narrowed his eyes as he studied the bite on his neck, which was already turning a deep magenta colour.

  ‘Bathroom?’ he snapped.

  ‘J-just along the corridor,’ she stumbled.

  He was back some minutes later, having obviously splashed his face with water and raked his fingers through his ruffled black hair in an attempt to tame it. And then her heart clenched with disbelief as he bent down to pick up his clothes and began pulling them on. Surely he wasn’t planning on leaving straight away? She’d known it was only ever going to be a one-off but she’d hoped he’d at least sleep with her.

  ‘Is something wrong?’ she asked.

  ‘You mean, apart from the fact that you’ve bitten my neck, like some teenage girl on a first date?’ He paused in the act of buttoning up his shirt, his lips tight with anger as he turned to look at her. ‘What was the point of that, Lisa? Did you want to make sure you left a trophy mark behind?’