by Annie West
She wanted to touch him, soothe him.
As if reading her sympathy, Lambis spoke again, his voice cool. ‘I can’t offer love or happy ever afters. He paused, making sure she had time to process his words.
‘But there’s something I can offer.’ His eyes held hers and Amelie couldn’t look away. ‘Passion. An affair that would bring us both pleasure.’
‘Sex without strings?’ Amelie heard herself saying. ‘It’s not my style.’
She’d had but one lover, a man she’d once believed she’d spend her life with, until he’d betrayed her love and walked away, eventually marrying someone else.
Was that why Lambis’s outrageous suggestion tempted? Because she’d never been lucky in love?
Or because she’d never got over Lambis?
‘Why not?’ His dark eyes held hers. ‘We both feel this desire. We both...want.’
As he spoke Amelie felt heat flare low in her pelvis and a heavy, needy pulse begin deep inside.
‘We wouldn’t be hurting anyone. Why not find pleasure in each other’s arms?’
His was the voice of temptation, Amelie decided as it rumbled through her, its echo eddying deep and low. She stifled a gasp at the way her body responded, softening, eager. Even after all that had gone before, Lambis had only to mention sex and she was excited, hungry.
Amelie blinked, fighting back emotions too mixed, too strong, to contain. ‘I’ve heard enough. I’m going to bed.’ Pivoting on her foot she turned away.
She was almost around the corner of the house when his voice feathered the night. ‘Think about it, Amelie.’
CHAPTER NINE
THINK ABOUT IT?
She did nothing but think about it!
All through the long, sultry night Amelie couldn’t wrest her mind from Lambis’s proposition. Even this morning, busy with Seb, her thoughts kept straying to the idea of an affair. A hot, passionate, purely physical affair.
Her body said Yes. All but screamed it, as that betraying heat settled tight and low in her pelvis and a throb of anticipation started up at the apex of her thighs.
Yet her heart and her head warned of danger. From the first she’d felt drawn to Lambis, sexually and emotionally. Till she’d had to smother those feelings.
When, last night, he’d revealed he’d tried love and it hadn’t worked, regret had pounded hard in her blood. Regret for his pain. Surely that was dangerous?
Yet the idea of an affair with Lambis was alluring.
Her thoughts circled as she tried to use logic and failed dismally. She wanted to take a risk on transitory, utterly selfish pleasure.
She’d spent her life being dependable, responsible and, in her youth, obedient. Her one act of rebellion had been when she was a university student. Even then she hadn’t managed to escape the demands of duty or, more specifically, her father, by leaving St Galla to study. He’d insisted she stay close and act as his hostess so she’d studied locally, never quite accepted by the other students since, between lectures, she regularly appeared at official events in diamonds and jewels.
Only Jules had treated her like anyone else. Jules, the quiet medical student who’d wooed and won her. His lovemaking had been tender rather than ardent but she’d been so in love, so wrapped up in thoughts of their future together, she hadn’t minded.
Not till her father stepped in, declaring it impossible a royal princess should marry a commoner. Amelie had defied her father, only to discover Jules had backed off, cowed by her father’s bluster and, she realised later, a hefty payout to help him set up his medical practice. He’d dropped her unceremoniously, telling her he’d been wrong; clearly people from such different backgrounds couldn’t make a marriage work.
So much for love.
Since then she’d guarded her heart. Until Lambis strode into the palace and she felt herself spin out of control, losing the battle not to fall for him.
The second time she’d put herself on the line, shoving aside pride. She hadn’t waited in the hope he might declare an interest, but had made the first move. Only to be rejected.
Love clearly wasn’t for her. The way Lambis had turned from her had been the final straw. After that she’d begun to think seriously on the Prime Minister’s suggestion, more frequent in the last couple of years, that she accept an arranged marriage. It was why she’d consented to meet King Alex of Bengaria. Now, with the pressure to marry before being made Regent, an arranged marriage was more than ever desirable.
If she could stomach a loveless marriage. Surely it wouldn’t be as difficult as her parents’ marriage? King Alex was supposed to be a fine man, an honest man, not a philanderer.
‘Is something wrong?’ Lambis’s voice interrupted her circling thoughts and she stiffened. Heat washed her cheeks.
‘Nothing at all.’ She didn’t meet his look but turned to Seb, beside her on the back seat of the large rowing boat. ‘Have you seen any fish yet, mon lapin?’
Seb shook his head, then, a second later, reached out and tugged her hand, pointing down into the miraculously clear blue-green depths.
Instantly Amelie forgot her problems, excitement rising. Seb was a changed boy since he’d cried in Lambis’s arms. He didn’t speak, but he was responsive as he hadn’t been before.
‘I see them. Aren’t they quick? See how the sun catches them when they turn?’
The rhythmic lap of the oars ceased and Lambis leaned towards the side too. ‘Well spotted, Sébastien. Do you like fishing?’
The small golden head turned as Seb looked up at the big man who took up most of the space in the boat.
‘I don’t think you’ve ever been fishing, have you, Seb?’ While Amelie had tried to ensure her nephew lived a life as close to ordinary as possible, she’d never taken him fishing. She doubted his parents had.
The boy shook his head and Amelie felt again that tiny flare of hope. Maybe, after all, with patience he’d get through this. At least now he was interacting. It was a precious start.
‘Well, if you’d like to try one day, just let me know. I know a secret spot the local fishermen say is the best.’ Without waiting for an answer, Lambis picked up the oars and began pulling on them again, ploughing them easily through the water towards the headland.
It had been an inspired suggestion of his to take out the rowing boat instead of the sleek powerboat in the boathouse. He’d rowed it to the beach so Seb didn’t have to see the other boat, so like the one that had scared him, and Seb had actually smiled at the novelty of wading out then being scooped up in Lambis’s arms and settled on the back seat.
That smile had pierced Amelie’s heart and she’d found herself unaccountably close to tears. Till she’d seen Lambis looking at her and turned away, climbing clumsily into the boat rather than accept his assistance.
The rowing boat had another thing to recommend it. She got to watch Lambis row. No matter how often she told herself not to stare, and kept busy chatting with Seb, her gaze slid back to the big man pulling at the oars. Every stroke emphasised the power in his arms and upper body, pulling his T-shirt across the fascinating play of muscles. His long legs stretched out so she found hers brushing them as she turned. And every time showers of sparks ignited under her skin.
An affair that would bring us both pleasure.
Passion.
Excitement ripped through her as she remembered his words. Was he thinking about it too? Lambis had been particularly unreadable this morning. It drove her crazy, wondering if he regretted his words last night.
He didn’t look like he’d paced the floor half the night, as she had. He looked rested, fit, and comfortable in his skin. Sure of himself.
Sure he couldn’t offer love.
Again she circled back to that nugget of information, worrying at it like a tongue at a sore tooth. But what was the point? She’d long ago accepted he’d never love her.
‘Here we are. Now, keep your hands inside the boat; the entrance is narrow.’
They approached a dark
hole in the white cliff of the headland. Seb shifted closer and she put her arm around him.
‘It’s okay, mon lapin. Lambis has promised us a nice surprise. A surprise is worth a little adventure, don’t you think?
Seb nodded against her side, staying close as Lambis guided the boat gently into the black entrance. The temperature dropped as they floated into the cave, and darkness engulfed them. Seb leaned closer.
‘Are you watching?’ Lambis’s voice floated out of the gloom. ‘Any minute now.’ He paused. ‘There! What do you think?’
Amelie felt her eyes widen as the boat turned a corner and suddenly the darkness retreated. Ahead was a bright blue bowl of water. So bright it seemed iridescent. Above, the roof of the cavern soared high till, where the top of the vast space must once have been, there was only clear Aegean sky.
‘It’s wonderful,’ she breathed, her hand tightening on Seb. ‘Spectacular.’
‘I thought you’d enjoy it.’ For a moment Lambis held her eyes and she felt her breath seize. Then he turned to her nephew. ‘All this used to be underground, until one day, hundreds of years ago, part of the roof fell, letting in the light. Now it’s a secret place, perfect for private picnics.’
Seb stirred, pulling back from her side and sliding along the seat to take in the magical view. Everything about it felt magical, from the crystal blue depths to the bright dome of sky above, and the sense of being cut off from the world.
The boat bumped gently against the shore and Lambis shipped the oars. Moments later he was ashore, tugging the boat in close and tying it to a rock. Then he lifted Seb out.
Amelie watched as her nephew immediately investigated the shoreline of a tiny beach beneath the overhang. He was on hands and knees, peering into the watery depths, just like any other curious child.
How long since she’d seen him like that?
‘Thank you, Lambis,’ she murmured as she stood and passed him the picnic basket his housekeeper had provided. She didn’t try to hide her delight. ‘This was a great idea. Seb loves it.’
A hand, large and callused, closed around hers instead of taking the basket’s handle. Instantly longing tugged, hard and tight, from her nipples to her womb. One touch and the hours since he’d held her vanished. It was as if Lambis had kissed her mere moments ago. Her heart skidded against her ribcage and the feel of his breath sluicing down over her mouth made her lips tingle and part in unconscious invitation.
He focused on the movement and the lines bracketing his mouth grew deeper. ‘It’s not just for Sébastien. Do you like it, Amelie?’
She loved it when his voice eddied down to that impossibly deep resonance that scoured her belly. Loved and hated it, because it made her feel on the edge of control. As if she were a creature of instinct, not thought. A woman liable to do something dangerous, like give herself to a man who didn’t care for her.
But isn’t that what you’d do if you went through with an arranged marriage? At least this way you’d enjoy passion with the only man who’s made you feel desirable in years.
‘Amelie?’
She nodded and slid her hand from beneath his. ‘I’ve never seen anything like it. It’s wonderful. Thank you for bringing us here.’
She waited till he turned to put the basket ashore then moved to alight, but he swung round quickly, catching her about the waist and lifting her out as easily as he had Seb.
Slowly he lowered her to the ground. So slowly she was aware of every plane and angle of his hard-packed body as she passed just a hairsbreadth from it.
It felt as if she’d brushed against him. All of her, from her hard nipples to her quivering thighs and clenched fingers, tingled.
Lambis’s eyes held hers. He read her response, knew exactly what he was doing. It was there in the banked heat of his expression and the way those massive hands held her even after she was on her own feet.
‘You can let me go.’
She didn’t think he was going to respond. His body canted towards her. Then a splash broke the silence. Instantly alert, Amelie wheeled to look for Seb. But he was safe, merely throwing stones into the water, his tongue between his lips and his forehead bunched in concentration.
Amelie sagged in Lambis’s hold, then the moment was gone. He released her and moved away, shaking out a blanket. She remained where she was, surveying the scene. The little boy playing his age-old game and the big man, apparently domesticated, setting up a picnic.
For a second, no longer, Amelie let herself remember the dreams she’d had for so long—children of her own, a man who loved her enough to mesh his life with hers. A man who was honest, faithful and caring, who saw her as something other than a princess, a diplomatic helpmeet or a trophy to be won in furthering his political ambitions.
She pursed her lips and shoved aside the yearning for what she’d never possess.
She had no idea if she’d accept an arranged marriage with the King of Bengaria. That could wait till she discovered if they were compatible.
Compatible was a far cry from love.
Who was she to cry for the moon and the stars? She had Seb to look after, to love. She had a responsibility to do what was best for him. That had to be her priority, not pining for the impossible.
Yet, as she smiled and joined him at the water’s edge, she couldn’t stifle a pang of regret.
* * *
Two hours later Amelie lay, head pillowed on her arm, watching Seb and Lambis in the water. Her lack of sleep caught up with her and she felt her eyelids droop. But she didn’t want to sleep. Not when she could watch the pair of them, exploring the brilliant blue waters of the cave.
They were on the far side of the cavern now, two sleek, wet heads together, one dark as night and the other glowing old gold in the sunlight. Lambis’s bare broad shoulders crested the water as he slowly swam breaststroke across the pool. Seb clung to his back, his small hands clasping dark olive skin.
Emotion crested at the sight of them together.
For all their differences, in size, age and temperament, there was something similar about them. The intensity of their expressions for one. The way Seb nodded in response to something Lambis pointed out.
And more. That almost impenetrable air of reserve.
Amelie frowned. In Seb that was a new characteristic. Before his parents’ death he’d been lively and gregarious, a little chatterbox with an insatiable curiosity. In Lambis it seemed ingrained. Maybe it was the nature of his work, but she felt restraint and control, as much as a lack of demonstrativeness, had been part of Lambis for a long, long time.
Inevitably her thoughts worried at his words last night. He had tried love once and it hadn’t worked.
Whom had he loved? Had the woman rejected him? Betrayed him?
It was none of her business yet she couldn’t leave it alone.
Had Lambis always been so ferociously self-contained or had he once been lively and loving? Had he suffered hurt like her nephew and never recovered?
She remembered his rare, sweet smiles, usually directed at Irini but occasionally at her or Seb. They’d been like shafts of sunlight breaking through dissipating mist and they’d made her yearn.
It wasn’t that he was bad-tempered, despite the awful, grumpy reception he’d given her at his mountain home. It was that he was...cut off. Completely self-contained.
The nurturing side of her wanted to break through to the man inside. The man who was doing more for her nephew than all the doctors and do-gooders they’d seen.
But Amelie had learned her lesson. It wasn’t up to her to save Lambis, or heal him. He’d made it clear he was content with his life. He didn’t want her help.
Just her body.
Heat slammed through her. Even thinking of it in those crude, unvarnished terms—two lonely people sharing sex—his proposition was devastatingly tempting.
She’d all but given up her dream of love, apart from her love for her nephew.
Why not take what Lambis suggested? As he said there
was no harm—
‘Look! Look!’
Amelie’s head jerked up. Seconds later she was on her feet, heart throbbing high in her throat, straining to hear over the racing pulse that thundered in her ears. Eyes wide as saucers, she stared across the cavern to where Lambis trod water and Seb, on his back, sat up high, pointing towards the middle of the pool.
‘Aunt Lili, look!’
Amelie swayed as if the very sea had risen to knock her off her feet. She stumbled forward, right to the water’s edge, her gaze fixed on the little boy who stared with such rapt attention at the water.
Her hand was at her throat, as if to keep down the hammering heart that had risen there.
‘See?’ Familiar green eyes met hers from over Lambis’s shoulder and it was like electricity jolting through her. ‘See?’ Seb demanded.
Reluctantly, not wanting to look away, Amelie turned. At first she saw nothing, then, from out of the shadows a dark blob emerged. She leaned forward, frowning. The blob swam closer and suddenly, despite her hammering pulse and the raw blast of shock reverberating through her, she smiled.
‘I see! It’s a turtle.’
Her gaze darted to Seb but he didn’t answer. He was too busy following the animal’s progress through the water. Did he realise he’d spoken? Her hand pressed down on her breastbone. She couldn’t quite believe it.
‘That’s right,’ Lambis said in a calm, deep voice, as if nothing momentous had happened. ‘They come ashore on a nearby island to lay their eggs.’
Seb nodded, but didn’t comment.
That didn’t matter. He’d spoken! If he could do it once, surely, soon, he could do it again.
Overwhelmed, Amelie sank to the ground, her legs too weak to support her. Shock and relief confounded her and she blinked back tears. She should be happy, exultant even. Instead she felt horribly wobbly. Happy, but wobbly.
She’d spent so long hoping and praying for this day but in her heart of hearts she’d wondered if it would ever come. She scooted her hands up and down her chilled arms, feeling the gooseflesh there.
