by Abby Green
Leila’s heart lurched. She could imagine Alix as a serious, dark-haired five-year-old, with both his parents God knew where, keeping an eye on his brother.
‘It was obvious to our father that he’d never become King, so he had nothing to do with him after that.’
Leila hid her shock. ‘And your mother?’
His mouth twisted. ‘She barely knew I existed, never mind Max.’
‘He must have loved you very much.’
If anything Alix looked grimmer. ‘He did, the little fool, following me everywhere... But I couldn’t give him what he needed most: our parents’ care and love.’
Leila sensed his reluctance to talk, even though he’d brought it up. But she needed to know this—because if they were to have a life together she couldn’t bear for him to shut their children out.
‘What happened the day he died?’
‘They murdered him...’ Alix moved a hand jerkily. ‘Not just the actual murderers, but my parents. They were the ones who made sure I was protected so the precious line would go on, and they kept Max with them, knowing that he would die, hoping that seeing him would distract the soldiers enough to let me get away. The last thing I remember hearing was Max, screaming for me. He couldn’t understand why I wasn’t coming to get him, to take him with me—and I couldn’t go back...they wouldn’t let me. One of the men taking me away had to knock me out. I came to on a boat, leaving the island behind.’
He looked at Leila.
‘It nearly killed me, knowing that I’d left him behind. I had nightmares for years. Sometimes they still come...’
Leila stood up. ‘Oh, Alix... I’m so sorry.’
She could understand in an instant how something must have broken inside him that day when he’d lost his home and his beloved brother. She was going to walk over to him, but something in his expression stopped her.
Alix was harsh. ‘Don’t give me your pity, Leila, that’s the last thing I want or deserve. I’ve told you this because you need to know that I wasn’t unaffected today. But I won’t lie to you. I have always envisaged myself keeping an emotional distance from my Queen and any children. My role as King is a job, and as such I need to avoid distraction. Focus on what’s best for the country and the future. But when I saw the scan today it all came back—the love I felt for Max and the awful grief when he died.’
Alix shook his head.
‘It terrifies me that I’ll be unable to control how I feel about my own child in case anything happens. I couldn’t survive that grief again.’
A gaping hollow seemed to open up in Leila’s chest. What could she say? Wasn’t every parent terrified of their child being hurt or worse? Terrified that they wouldn’t be able to protect it from every little thing? What Alix didn’t understand yet, and what she only had an inkling of herself, was that he wouldn’t be able to control it.
He walked over to her then, and Leila tried desperately to call up some sense of defence. She felt raw with this knowledge, not sure what it meant now.
‘I want you, Leila, and I want our baby. I will do my best to serve you both well—and any other children we may have.’
Leila went still. Nothing had changed. Not really. Even though he’d opened up to her his main concern was the baby. Not her. And she should be feeling relieved that he’d admitted he wanted this baby as much for itself as for its role as heir. That he would not shut it out.
Alix reached a hand out then, but Leila stepped back jerkily. If he touched her now she’d break into a million pieces.
She forced herself to sound far more calm than she felt. ‘I’m quite tired now. I’d like to go back to my rooms, please.’
Alix still felt raw from the mind-blowing sex and what he’d just revealed about his brother. But he hadn’t been able to bear the thought that Leila really believed he’d felt nothing for their baby. And she deserved to know the truth. That he wasn’t prepared to go through that emotional wasteland again. Having lost everything.
His hand was out to touch her, but she’d stepped back out of his reach. His first instinct was to move closer...but something stopped him. If he touched her again who knew what else he might feel compelled to reveal?
His hand dropped. He’d never wanted a woman so badly that he wanted her again as soon as he’d had her, but right now he really could see no end in sight to this constant craving.
The lush surroundings of the old harem didn’t help. And the fact that she’d been the one to step away made something prickle inside him. She had control when he was in danger of losing it.
He was terse. ‘Okay, let’s go.’
Alix put on the rest of his clothes and watched Leila step into her panties, sliding them up her slim thighs. Thighs that had been wrapped around him only a short time before, her inner muscles clasping his shaft with spasms so strong he’d almost climaxed twice in quick succession.
Damn.
She picked up her shoes on the way out and Alix was forced to feel a measure of shame. They were like teenagers, sneaking off to the nearest private space to have sex. He was a king, for God’s sake. Not a randy schoolboy.
‘What are you going to do with this place?’ Leila asked as she walked out through the main door.
He watched as she went past him, his eyes tracking down her body and up to her tangled hair. Lust was sinking its teeth into him all over again.
‘I had thought of getting rid of it, but now I’m not so sure.’
She looked at him, and before she could say anything he stepped up to her, so that there were just centimetres between their bodies. ‘It won’t be for more wives, Leila, it’ll be for us alone,’ he said.
Her cheeks coloured at that. ‘But that’s...outrageous. A whole hammam and harem, just for two people?’
Alix quirked a smile at the mix of expressions on her face: slightly scandalised, and yet interested at the same time.
‘It’ll be purely for your pleasure and mine, Leila. You’re to be my Queen, and I will want to make sure that you are satisfied.’
The colour faded from her cheeks and she said, ‘I’ll be satisfied when you don’t shut our child out, Alix. Sex is just sex.’
Alix felt her words like a physical blow to his chest. He watched as she stepped out from where he had her all but caged against the wall and started to walk down the corridor. Sex is just sex.
‘Leila,’ he called out curtly.
She stopped and turned around with clear reluctance.
‘It’s this way.’ He pointed in the opposite direction and watched as she came back down the corridor and past him, head held high. He had to stop himself from hauling her back into the harem to show her that he knew exactly that sex was just sex.
The irritating thing was he didn’t need Leila to tell him sex was just sex. So why did he suddenly feel a need to prove that to her—and himself?
* * *
Leila wasn’t sure how she made it back to her rooms with Alix behind her, boring holes in her back with the intensity of his gaze. She thought of that harem, existing just for carnal pleasure... She’d almost melted on the spot when he’d said that it would be solely for their use.
Sex is just sex—ha! Who was she kidding when she felt upside down and wrung out?
It had brought up all the emotions she’d been feeling the morning after they’d returned from Venice, when she’d felt so perilously close to believing she’d fallen for him.
There was no ‘falling’.
The truth hit her like a slap in the face. She was in love with Alix and had been for some time, if she was honest with herself. And that last bout of just sex had left her nowhere to hide.
She almost sobbed with relief when she saw their door appear and the guard standing outside.
When they reached her room she was about to escape inside when Alix said, ‘Wait.’
Leila turned around, schooling her features. No way would Alix know that what had just happened had been cataclysmic for her.
‘Yes?’ Reluctantly
she looked at him, and saw his eyes were like grey clouds.
‘We’re having an engagement party at the end of this week. It’s a chance to introduce you to society here, and there will be some international guests.’
Immediately nerves assailed Leila. She was a perfumer, a shop manager—not someone who walked confidently among the moneyed classes. Royalty!
But she needed space from Alix to process everything that had happened so she just nodded nonchalantly and said, ‘Okay—fine.’
And then she slipped into her room and leant back against the door, letting out a long, shuddering breath.
She was in love with a man who had admitted to her that he was averse to love—based on the fact that he’d suffered so much pain due to losing his beloved brother. She could understand his trauma—and he would have felt it that much more keenly, being young and impressionable. But who was she to say to him that he wouldn’t be able to control who or how he loved?
And yet he was willing to do his best for the sake of their child. Clearly that would have to be enough—and it should be. Everything Leila did now was for the sake of this baby. Her own personal needs and desires were not important.
Yes, they are, you’ll wither and die in this environment with no love, whispered a rogue voice.
Leila pushed herself fiercely off the door and ignored the voice. As much as she longed for a different life from the one she’d had with her mother, she’d be an absolute fool to hope, even briefly, that some kind of fairy tale might be out there.
She stripped off her clothes and stepped into a hot shower and tried not to think of how it had felt to have Alix surging between her legs, touching her so deeply that it had made a mockery of the words she’d spouted at him.
Sex is never just sex, crowed the same rogue voice.
She shut it out and blinked back the prickle of weak tears.
* * *
On the evening of the engagement party Leila was a bag of nerves. It didn’t help that she’d barely seen Alix since their last conversation. But she’d welcomed the space—especially in light of what had happened. She’d been having lurid erotic dreams of the harem all week.
Alix had sent her messages and notes, explaining that he was caught up with political meetings and getting everything prepared for the wedding.
And Leila had been kept busy with lessons about the history of the island, along with etiquette classes, instruction on how she would be expected to behave as Queen. And with wedding dress fittings.
The magnitude of how radically her life was changing was overwhelming.
The last thing she needed was to see Alix and have him guess just how brittle she was feeling.
Her personal maid, Amalie, was just finishing dressing her now, and Leila winced a little at the increased sensitivity of her breasts—which only made her think of how it had felt to have Alix’s mouth on her there.
Amalie obviously misread Leila’s discomfort. ‘Are you too hot, mademoiselle? Shall I open the doors?’
Leila shook her head quickly. ‘No, I’m fine—honestly.’
She forced a smile and looked at herself in the mirror, not really recognising the sleekly coiffed woman in front of her and feeling a moment of insecurity that Alix would take one look at her and feel nothing but disappointment with his inconvenient bride.
Alix stood in the doorway, unnoticed for the past few minutes, and watched as Leila was transformed from beautiful to stunning. His breath caught in his throat. She wore a cream strapless dress with a ruched bodice that clung to her full breasts before falling in delicate chiffon layers to the floor. Her dark hair was coiled into a complicated-looking chignon at the back of her head. Make-up subtly enhanced her eyes and that lush mouth.
Alix’s body reacted with predictable force. A force he’d spent the week avoiding by keeping busy at all costs. Like some kind of yellow-bellied coward. He’d stood face to face this week with one of the men who had shot his parents and his brother, and he hadn’t felt half the maelstrom he was feeling now.
As if sensing his regard, Leila turned her head and saw him. Her cheeks flushed and Alix gritted his jaw to stop his body reacting even more rampantly. He felt like a Neanderthal. He wanted to throw her over his shoulder and carry her back to the heart of that harem, to sink himself so deep he’d never have to feel or think again. He wanted to lock them in there for a month.
He stepped into the room with a velvet box in his hand, vaguely aware of the young maid curtseying and disappearing.
Leila looked from the box to him. ‘More jewellery?’
She said it as if it was a poisoned chalice, and bleakly he had to realise that perhaps that was what this marriage was for her.
Alix curbed his irritation. ‘Yes, more jewellery.’
He came closer to Leila and opened the box, watching her eyes widen at the sight of the exquisite gold necklace and matching earrings. He put it down and lifted the necklace, already knowing it would look stunning on her flawless olive skin. It was faintly geometric in design, and circular. He opened it and placed it around her neck, burningly aware of her body so close to his. Of his straining erection.
Leila put a hand to it as he took his own away and stepped back. ‘It’s beautiful. I don’t mean to sound ungrateful. I’m just not used to...this. I feel like I’m not qualified.’
Alix saw her insecurity and was amazed at how little she was aware of her own beauty and power. Over him.
Gruffly he said, ‘You’re just as qualified as anyone else ever was. Most of the Queens in this family were slave girls, transported from northern Europe on ships, taken by pirates.’
Leila looked at him, a rare spark of humour in her eyes. ‘That’s one part of your history I didn’t particularly relish learning about.’
Alix handed her the earrings and watched as she slid them into her ears. Dieu. He even found that erotic.
Feeling compelled, he said, ‘I’m sorry I left you alone all week. I had things to attend to.’
It sounded so lame now. Pathetic. No woman had ever made him feel as if he wasn’t in complete control. Except for this one.
He forced his mind back from the brink and stepped back. ‘Ready?’
She nodded and he saw how she swallowed nervously. Instinctively he reached for her hand and led her out of the suite and into the corridor, aware of her tension and wanting to soothe it. Reassure her. Alien concepts for Alix.
They were coming close to where the sound of over two hundred guests could be heard and she stopped in her tracks. He looked at her and his chest squeezed at the fear on her face. He’d done this to her. He’d never contemplated having a wife who wouldn’t just take this in her stride.
Her eyes were huge. ‘What if I can’t do this? I’m not a princess...’
Alix couldn’t stop himself from reaching out and putting a hand to her neck, massaging her muscles with his fingers, feeling them resist and then relax. Her eyes were all he could see: huge pools of green. Her skin was so soft under his hand, and then he couldn’t resist tugging her into him and lowering his mouth to hers.
They sank into each other, mouths open and tongues tangling, their kiss growing hotter and deeper before he had a chance to claw back some control. They were in the corridor. About to face guests. And he was ready to lift her against the nearest wall and thrust into her tight sheath.
Alix pulled back, feeling dizzy. Leila looked equally disorientated. Mouth pink and swollen.
Somehow he managed to grit out, ‘You’ll be fine. Just follow my lead.’
Leila wasn’t sure how she was able to make her feet move at all after that kiss, but somehow Alix’s words and his hand anchored her—although she had to figure that the kiss had been a somewhat calculated move to make her look suitably starry-eyed before they faced his public.
And then suddenly they were standing at the top of the stairs at the entrance to the majestic ballroom and Leila’s nerves were back. It was filled with portraits of his rather fearsome-looking an
cestors. The crowd started to hush as people noticed them. Alix took her hand and placed it on his arm.
A man in an elaborate Isle Saint Croix uniform struck a tall staff on the ground. It made an impressive booming noise and then he shouted out, ‘May I present to you the King of Isle Saint Croix, Alixander Saul Almaric Saint Croix, and future Queen and mother of Isle Saint Croix, Leila Amal Lakshmi Verughese.’
Leila felt absurdly emotional at being called the mother of Isle Saint Croix as Alix led her down the stairs. She took a deep breath as they reached the bottom, and suddenly it was organised chaos as Andres appeared and led them around the room, introducing them to everyone.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
WHAT FELT LIKE aeons later, Leila wondered if her mouth would stay in a rictus smile for ever. Her cheeks ached and her feet were burning in the too-high heels. Thankfully the crowd had dissipated somewhat now, and she felt as if she could breathe again.
Alix’s conversation with a man whose name Leila couldn’t recall ended. He turned to her, looking genuinely concerned. ‘Are you okay? You probably shouldn’t be on your feet for so long.’
Leila had to stop her silly heart from lurching and forced a smile. ‘Don’t be silly—I’m pregnant, not crippled.’ But in fact she was feeling a little hot and weary.
Alix was gesturing to a member of staff, giving him some kind of signal, and then he was leading Leila out to a secluded open courtyard off the main ballroom.
Leila sat down on a wrought-iron chair with relief, slipping off her shoes for a moment to stretch her feet. She caught Alix’s look and said ruefully, ‘Okay, my feet were beginning to kill me.’
The staff member appeared again, with a tray of hors d’oeuvres and some sparkling water. Alix sat down too and tugged at his bow tie, loosening it a bit.
More touched than she liked to admit, and surprised at this show of concern, Leila said, ‘You don’t have to wait out here with me. I just need a moment.’
