Claimed: Secret Royal Son

by Marion Lennox

  ‘I’ve changed my brand of condom.’

  She blinked. He was smiling. He was with her and beyond.

  Two could play at that game. ‘I’ve taken precautions, too,’ she said, and watched his eyes crease into surprise and appreciation—and then darken to something more.

  ‘You’ve taken precautions,’ he said softly.

  ‘That’s what I said.’

  ‘You’ve taken precautions already?’

  ‘Seeing as I was getting married. Seeing as I didn’t trust myself.’ Seeing also as she hadn’t trusted him not to demand his conjugal rights. She’d never dreamed the advance could come from her.

  ‘I see.’ His hands took hers, gripping warmly, strongly, surely, and the laughter was back again. Laughter and something deeper. ‘So let me get this right. You’re in my house on your wedding night—our wedding night—you look so lovely I can’t believe it and you tell me you came prepared.’

  ‘That’s not necessarily an invitation,’ she managed, but of course it was. And he was playing her game.

  ‘It’d be a prince without chivalry who thought it was,’ he said and he tugged her closer. ‘But if it was a prince who was to issue the invitation…’

  ‘What…what sort of invitation?’ she managed.

  ‘A very proper invitation,’ he whispered. His mouth was against her hair. She could feel his breath. It was unbelievably erotic. Unbelievably sexy. ‘Something like: His Majesty, Prince Alexandros Kostantinos Mykonis, Crown Prince of Sappheiros, requests the pleasure of the company of Her Majesty, Princess Lily Mykonis…’

  ‘Princess…’ It was practically a squeak. She swallowed. ‘Um…princess?’

  ‘That’s what you are as my wife,’ he said into her hair. ‘Whereas Mia is now Queen of nowhere, as the Kingdom of Diamas no longer exists. She’s about to get a very legal letter telling her she has no further right to use the title.’

  She gazed at Alex—at her husband—in awe. Thinking of Mia’s reaction.

  ‘I think you’re wonderful,’ she said before she could help herself, and the world stood still.

  His eyes darkened once more. She saw passion flare and burn. ‘So this invitation I’m thinking of issuing…’ he murmured.

  ‘When?’ she asked, still breathless, but no longer worrying about an irrelevant thing like breathing.

  ‘I’m getting to that,’ he said reprovingly. ‘Patience, my love. Official invites take time. I need to melt the wax for the seal…Oh, I’ll have to find some wax. You don’t happen to have a candle about you?’

  ‘I don’t believe I do. And I certainly don’t have time to search for one.’

  ‘You don’t?’

  ‘Not the way I’m feeling.’

  ‘So…’ His hold tightened. ‘If I were to send this invitation without an official seal…If I were to request an RSVP by return post…’

  ‘You might get it faster than you expected.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Really,’ she whispered. ‘Right about…now.’

  ‘Now?’ His hands were in the small of her back, tugging her closer, closer. ‘Now, my love?’

  ‘Maybe,’ she whispered.

  ‘And what might this RSVP say?’

  ‘Ooh,’ she whispered. ‘I’d have to think about it.’

  ‘Think fast.’

  She thought fast. She could think without breathing. ‘I guess it’d say something along the lines of: Her Majesty, Princess Lily Sophia Mykonis, is delighted to receive the very gracious invitation of said prince and accepts with pleasure.’

  ‘Does she just.’ She could feel his pleasure. She could feel his heat. The world outside had ceased to exist. There was only each other.

  How had they done it? How had they turned a sedate domestic scene—feeding her baby—into passion, just like that?

  But there was no mistaking what had happened. Her knees felt distinctly wobbly, but there was no longer a need for them to stay firm. Alex was sweeping her up into his arms, holding her against him, his dark eyes possessing her, loving her, wanting her.

  Her prince.

  ‘About place and time…’ he murmured.

  ‘Subject to negotiation, wouldn’t you say?’

  ‘Okay, let’s negotiate. First factor—time. Is now okay with you?’

  ‘I don’t believe I have any pressing appointments.’

  ‘Excellent.’ His dark eyes gleamed. ‘Place?’

  ‘Maybe not here,’ she said, somewhat reluctantly.

  ‘We might corrupt our son,’ he said, and those two words…our son…were so sexy that her insides felt quivery along with her knees. All of her felt quivery.

  ‘See that adjoining door?’ he murmured, and she looked up and saw the door and her eyes widened.

  ‘You don’t mean…’

  ‘I do mean.’ He was laughing again. She loved it when he laughed.

  ‘You had this planned!’

  ‘I did not,’ he said, wounded. ‘But, as a good father, I thought I might be expected to take a turn at night duty. I thought if I was to lie awake at night listening for my son then I’d need to be near. Really near. So I allocated you this apartment.’

  ‘You’re saying your bed is right through that door?’

  ‘Right through that door. If it’s grand enough for you.’

  ‘I can make do,’ she said serenely. ‘But I don’t mind a bit of glitz. The last time I…The last time we made love, I believe you were sleeping at the castle. Under a chandelier, if I remember correctly.’

  ‘I was there as my uncle’s heir,’ he said. ‘He liked glitz. He also expected me to act as his deputy, so I was on duty.’

  ‘But you’re not on duty now.’

  ‘I’m delegating responsibility to my son.’ He grinned. ‘I like the idea of delegating. If there’s armed insurrection before the morning, Michales is responsible for waking me up and ringing the newspapers.’

  She choked.

  ‘I love it when you laugh,’ he whispered and it was so much what she was thinking that she gasped.

  ‘What?’ he demanded.

  ‘I guess…laughter from you is a real turn-on as well,’ she admitted.

  ‘You like it when I laugh?’

  ‘I love it when you laugh.’

  ‘So we should find ourselves a good piece of slapstick on television?’

  ‘We could,’ she said cautiously.

  ‘But I can think of something better,’ he growled and he walked across and kicked the door open. It wasn’t even properly closed, Lily thought, and she couldn’t figure whether she was shocked or delighted.

  But then she thought again. Definitely delighted. For Alex was carrying her across to his bed and laying her on the counterpane as if she were the most exquisite thing he’d ever touched.

  ‘I’m sorry there’s no chandelier,’ he whispered.

  ‘I can cope. As long as there’s laughter,’ she said, breathless again. When he looked like that…

  It was still too soon, the sane part of her brain whispered. Sense said she needed to taste freedom first.

  But not now. Not when the rest of her brain was disagreeing. Not as he was tugging his shirt free, baring his chest, making her gasp…

  ‘Laughter,’ he said, agreeing. Smiling and smiling. ‘Okay, my love, here we go. Two sausages in a pan. One turns to the other and says, “Gee, it’s hot in here.” What does the other one say?’

  He was loving her with his eyes. He was smiling down at her with that wicked, laughing smile—and he was waiting for an answer to his dumb riddle. ‘I don’t know,’ she whispered, choking with laughter and something else entirely. ‘What does the other one say?’

  ‘“Bless my soul, it’s a talking sausage!”’ he said, and he grinned like a seven-year-old cracking his first riddle. It was so ridiculous she found herself laughing with him.

  While hungering for him with every nerve in her body.

  And then he was beside her on the bed, lifting her T-shirt over her hea
d. Unclipping her bra.

  ‘But it’s not just the sausage who’s hot,’ he whispered, laughter fading, his strong, skilful fingers moving to cup her breasts. ‘Lily, you’re the most beautiful woman in the world. You give yourself to me and I can’t believe that you do. I’ll never let you forget it. But now, my love…Now is for us. Now is for laughter. Now is for loving. And if we try very hard…’ He closed his eyes and she had a feeling he was taking a mighty step forward. ‘Now might just end up being forever.’

  Only forever had a habit of being not as long as expected.

  In Athens, a plane was landing. A private jet. A woman emerged. She stood on the tarmac and surveyed the scene before her. Deeply displeased.

  There was no one to meet her. Olivia had needed to barter with her daughter to get this flight. Mia had grudgingly arranged for Ben’s plane to bring her here. The negotiations had made her seethe. While her daughters lived in splendour, she had to fend for herself.

  Okay, maybe she would have done the same if she’d been her daughters’ age, she conceded. Maybe she had. But for Lily to forget she was her mother…Not even to invite her to her wedding…

  Some things were unconscionable. Sometimes a gentle reminder was needed.

  Or a big one.

  She made her way into the terminal, went through Customs—like a mere mortal, she thought savagely—and then thought of what to do next.

  A private plane to Sappheiros was out of the question. Unless…

  Unless the press came to the party. Which they would. She simply had to open her mouth and tell them who she was.

  Mother of the Queen. Mother of the Crown Princess.

  She’d done very well for her girls.

  She now intended Lily to acknowledge it.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  FOR three days he made her laugh, he made her love, he made her live.

  She’d never felt so alive. She’d never thought life could be so magical.

  She wasn’t to know that Alex had posted guards to prevent more intrusions into the little cove beneath the house. There were roadblocks set up to stop intrusions from the road. She thought this was normal, this was what life could be like, married to this man and living happily ever after.

  And he was learning to love his son.

  Of all the seductive turn-ons, this was the most powerful. For Alex’s delight—his infatuation and wonder with his infant son—were impossible to disguise. He made Michales laugh, and every time he did she fell deeper and deeper in love with him. He swam with Michales in his arms, and she watched them and ached with happiness. She loved it that when Michales murmured it was Alex who’d scoop up the little boy and bring him back to their bed. He’d heat his bottle and they’d feed him together, and then Alex would take him back to his cot and tuck him in.

  He told his son stories. She wasn’t supposed to hear—he thought she was sleeping—but she lay and listened to him telling Michales all about this island, all the things they could do, all that life offered.

  When Michales wouldn’t settle they lay and told each other stories of their past. They were telling Michales of his history, they said solemnly to each other, but in reality they were growing closer and closer to each other.

  She learned of Alex’s childhood. She learned of the aching void left by his father’s death, the desperation when his mother had to leave the island, leaving him with an uncle he loathed.

  She even heard briefly of his desperation when his mother died. He skimmed over it but she heard enough to know he’d cared for her on his own, that Giorgos had let no one come near, that her death had changed who he was for ever.

  He’d been known as a man who walked alone. She understood it now—a little. A tiny part of her was starting to think that maybe she could change it.

  But now wasn’t for resolutions. Now was simply for…now. For listening and learning and loving.

  She learned of his friendship with Nikos and Stefanos. The ‘guardians’, they’d called themselves, and it seemed they might now all be in power; they’d hold government of each of these, the Diamond Isles. They had plans.

  She listened to those plans. Alex could achieve them now. He lay beside her, he played with his son, he let his big body curve against hers and he told her his ideas for financial restructure, economic growth, tourism, wealth for this island he loved so much.

  The stories weren’t one-way. In turn he probed her childhood. He grew silent as she told him, and she knew his silence was anger. The sensation was incredible. No one had ever been angry on her behalf.

  Her mother had deserted her. Her father had leaned on her, and her sister…Well, Mia was to be forgotten.

  ‘Though I’d love to think of something else we could do,’ Alex murmured. ‘Stripping her of her title isn’t enough. That she left you for dead…’

  Michales had just been fed. Cradled between his mother and his father, he was sliding fast towards sleep, with the look of one very contented baby.

  When he went to sleep…Lily was already tingling in anticipation of what would happen when he went to sleep.

  She needed not to think about that, she told herself, trying to be severe. She needed to listen to what Alex was saying.

  ‘I’m thinking of some sort of permanent memorial,’ he said. ‘We’re opening a new refuse station on the far side of the island. How about we call it the Mia and Giorgos Garbage Dump? By royal decree.’

  She grinned. ‘You’re a wonderful man, Alexandros.’

  ‘I know,’ he said humbly. He looked at Michales. The baby’s eyes were closed. ‘Our baby’s asleep,’ he said with deep satisfaction.

  ‘Well, then…’

  ‘You want to make love or go for a swim?’

  ‘I…’

  ‘More indecision,’ he said and sighed. ‘There are royal decrees all over the place this morning. Okay then, here’s another. Lovemaking. Followed by swim. Followed by more lovemaking. And later…I intend to make you dinner.’

  It was a dream time. It was a time of wonder but it had to end. He could ill afford three days. The island’s grim financial situation couldn’t wait any longer. There were decisions everywhere that needed his attention.

  He had to leave.

  He couldn’t bear to tell Lily this had to end, but end it must.

  He’d use this last night to good effect, he decided. He wouldn’t talk about leaving.

  Up until now they’d lived on what was in the refrigerator. His staff had stocked it well, but it was all ready-made stuff. He’d told his housekeeper to stay away. But this night had to be special.

  When had she had someone cook for her? Never, he thought.

  In the afternoons she’d taken to sleeping with Michales. She hadn’t taken the time she needed after the operation to let her body recover fully, he thought. He insisted she take it now.

  She thought he slept beside her, but instead he lay and watched them.

  His wife. His son.

  They slept while he watched over them.

  Things were changing inside him. He was acknowledging a hunger he hadn’t known he had until it was being assuaged.

  His wife. His son.

  So on this, the last day of their honeymoon, he left them while she slept and headed into the town.

  She woke as he was unpacking in the kitchen, and came to investigate the sounds.

  ‘Dinner,’ he said, smiling at her, his beautiful wife, dressed in only a loose sarong. His beautiful Princess. ‘I’ve decided you need feeding and it’s time I lent a hand.’

  ‘I can feed myself.’

  ‘Not tonight.’ He flipped her a disc and motioned to the sound system. ‘Here’s our music. You listen while I cook.’

  So she sat and played with Michales and watched her husband cook her dinner.

  He took over the whole kitchen. He was so large. So overpoweringly male.

  So wonderful?

  He upended a bag. Fat, juicy scallops with their lips still intact spilled out onto the ta
ble in a luscious heap.

  Since her illness she’d been having trouble eating. Trauma, depression, shock—she didn’t know what had caused it. She had to eat, but she couldn’t remember a time when she’d last felt hungry.

  She suddenly felt really, really hungry. And really, really…

  Hungry, she thought again, but not for food.

  Alex was piling the scallops into a bowl and unpacking the next parcel. Coriander, Lily thought, smelling the pungent herb. Mmm.

  ‘Would you mind not looking like that?’ he demanded.

  ‘Like what?’

  ‘You know very well like what,’ he said. ‘Like I need to sweep you up and carry you back to my bedroom right now. Or take you right here, among the coriander. But no. I’m a man on a mission. No distractions, woman. Listen to the music and let your Prince of the Kitchen do what he’s here for. That’s an order.’

  He was setting out to make her smile and make her eat. Life had been bleak for this woman for a long time but right now, if he tried hard enough, he could make her smile.

  He’d brought Abba. She’d put on the disc expecting—what—something classical? But instead there was Benny and Bjorn and Agnetha and Frida belting out their toe-tapping harmonies with passion. He could practically feel their Lycra.

  It was impossible for her not to smile as she toe-tapped with Abba.

  He cooked the scallops, searing them fast, then serving them on lettuce cups with a light dressing of coriander and lemon. Lily ate six while she listened to ‘Dancing Queen’.

  He watched her eat in quiet satisfaction. This was what he’d set out to do—have her eat without thinking about it.

  Maybe she was thinking about the food, but the whole setting was confounding. He could see that. Him. His cooking.The music.

  Excellent.

  He would have liked to give her a really hefty steak as the next course, but in the end he’d opted for temptation rather than substance. So, instead of steak, he served slivers of fish caught that morning, coated in tempura batter and lightly fried. He accompanied them with tiny potatoes, parboiled and crisped in the oven. A salad of witlof, asparagus, mango and herbs.