by Annie West
Luisa had seen him without a jacket only once, briefly, in the limo. Always he was impeccably dressed. It shocked her that beneath that tailored elegance was a broad chest of considerable power.
Her eyes trailed over his heaving torso, noting the way his stance drew the fine cotton of his shirt taut, moulding to a body that wasn’t that of an effete clothes horse but a strong, very masculine man. Luisa’s heart skittered to a new rhythm as she remembered that solid muscle pressed against her on the boat in Paris. No wonder he’d felt so good!
‘We need to get you inside where it’s warm.’ Yet he didn’t move to help her rise. Did he see how weak she was?
Shakily she nodded, drawing his jacket close. ‘Soon. I need to get my b-breath.’ She had to pull herself together but she couldn’t quite manage it.
‘Here.’ With a quick stride, Raul moved behind her. Next thing she knew, those capable hands were on her again. He pulled her up and across his lap as he sat leaning against the wall opposite the gap.
Luisa should protest. She didn’t want to be this close to him. But she didn’t have the energy to resist and had to be content holding herself as stiff as she could in his arms. As if she could ignore the heat of those solid, muscular thighs or his arms around her!
‘I hope that wall’s safe!’
‘It’s fine. Don’t worry. It’s only the other side that’s a problem.’ He hauled her closer so her shoulder was tucked into his chest. ‘Didn’t you see the warning sign?’
She recalled a neat sign at the base of the tower but she’d barely glanced at it.
‘The door was unlocked.’
‘It won’t be in future.’ His voice was grim. ‘Not until it’s safe.’ He tugged her closer but she resisted. Any nearer and her head would be on his shoulder. The idea both attracted and horrified her.
‘Why did you come up here? You get finer views from the other side of the castle.’
She shrugged jerkily. ‘I wanted to see the parterre garden. Gregor showed it to me, but you don’t get the effect from the ground.’
‘Gregor?’ A steely note in his voice made her turn and meet his eyes head-on. They had darkened to a shade of rich forest-green. This close she was surprised to find a glimmer of scintillating gold sprinkled there too.
‘Yes.’ She found she was leaning towards him and drew back abruptly. ‘One of your gardeners. He showed me around.’
The frown returned to Raul’s face and his mouth flattened. But, instead of marring his features, it made him look like a sulky angel.
A quiver began low in her stomach that had nothing to do with her recent scare.
‘He didn’t encourage you to come up here, did he?’
‘Of course not.’ It was only now she realised Gregor’s gestures had been to warn her away from the unsafe structure.
‘Thank you for saving me.’ She should have thanked Raul immediately but her brain was too frazzled.
‘I’m just glad I saw you when I did.’ His hold firmed and his frown became a scowl, as if he’d like to blame someone.
Luisa looked at his concerned expression and tried to remember how callous he was. That he’d forced her hand.
‘Just think. If you hadn’t reached me, you mightn’t have had a princess to marry. Then you’d never inherit.’
A large firm hand cupped her jaw and cheek. His gaze snared hers and her breath caught. The gold in his eyes seemed to flare brighter. Or was that because he was nearer?
He shook his head slowly. ‘If there was no princess, the contract would no longer bind me.’ His thumb slid under her chin and Luisa’s eyelashes fluttered as a strange lethargic heat stole through her. ‘I’d have been free to marry whomever I want.’
‘Is there someone you want to marry?’ The notion clawed Luisa back from the brink of surrendering to his caress.
‘Don’t worry, Luisa.’ His face loomed closer. ‘You’re not coming between me and the love of my life.’
‘So there’s no one special?’ It confirmed his cold-blooded approach to marriage. But right now, dazzled by his brilliant stare, lulled by his rhythmic caress and the encompassing heat of his body, Luisa couldn’t scrape the energy to be outraged. She felt … distanced from pain. Who’d have thought she’d find solace in Raul’s embrace? There was unexpected pleasure in the sense that, for this moment at least, they could be frank.
‘No one who matters.’ His warm breath caressed her face and she struggled to find the anger that had burned within her before. Surely she shouldn’t enjoy being here, with him.
‘You really are ruthless, aren’t you?’ Her tone was conversational, curious, rather than accusing.
It was as if, after the shock of her accident, she floated on another plane where all that mattered was that she was safe in Raul’s strong arms.
He shifted and she found her head lolling against his shoulder, his body cradling hers. She almost sighed at how good that felt. She felt boneless, like a cat being stroked in the sun.
‘If you mean that I plan to get what I want, then yes.’ His lips curved in a smile that held something other than humour. His intense focus reminded her of the way he’d watched her in Paris. Heat filled her.
‘Have you always managed to get your own way?’ She should protest about how he held her but it felt so good and Luisa liked this new, unreal world where she and Raul weren’t at daggers drawn. Where that fragile connection shimmered in the still air.
He shook his head. ‘Far from it. I was anything but spoiled. My mother died in childbirth and my father was impatient with children.’
Her heart clenched. No wonder Raul was so self-sufficient. She stared up at his perfectly sculpted mouth, just made for reducing women to mindless adoration.
‘But as an adult. With women, I bet you’ve always—’
‘Luisa.’ The hand at her jaw slid round to thread through her hair and hold the back of her head. His eyes gleamed with an inner fire. ‘You’re talking too much.’
She watched those lips descend in slow motion. As if he gave her a chance to pull free. Or to savour their impending kiss. Excitement raced through her.
By the time his mouth covered hers Luisa’s breath had stalled, her lips opening to meet his, her pulse an insistent, urgent beat.
Their kiss was slow, a leisurely giving and receiving of pleasure. Delight swamped her in a warm, sultry wave. This wasn’t like the forceful, hungry passion they’d shared in Paris.
A voice in her head tried to point out that in Paris they’d shared nothing. Raul hadn’t felt anything.
But Paris seemed so far away.
Here, now, this felt like something shared. Something offered and accepted. Not dominance or submission. Not demand or acquiescence, but something utterly, satisfyingly mutual.
Luisa slipped an arm around his waist, revelling in how his muscles tensed then relaxed to her touch, testament to the leashed power of the man caressing her so gently. The realisation heightened her pleasure.
His tongue curled against hers as he drew her deeper into his mouth and the little voice of sanity subsided, overwhelmed by the magic Raul wove with his kiss, his big body, his tenderness.
Desire unfurled within her like a bud opening to the sunlight. Tendrils spread low to the feminine hollow between her legs. Up to her breasts that tingled as he pulled her closer, as if to absorb her into his body.
Her other hand rose to splay across his neck, discovering the pulse thudding heavily at his jaw. Then up to tangle in the rough silk of his hair.
Raul growled at the back of his throat. The raw sound of pleasure thrilled across her skin and sent heat plunging through her.
The languor that had held her spellbound dissipated and she wriggled against him, wanting more. The tingle of sensation at her hardening nipples became a prickle of need. The lavish, slow swirling eddy of delight in her belly grew more urgent.
Then, abruptly, he pulled back. Just enough for her to see his face. Stunned, it took a moment to read the heat in his ho
oded gaze and realise he was breathing heavily.
He grasped her wrist and tugged it down, holding it securely away from him.
‘Next time—’ his nostrils flared as he drew a deep breath ‘—if you want a tour, ask me. I’ll arrange to come with you or have someone guide you. Agreed? ‘
Silently Luisa nodded, her mind abuzz, her world rocked out of kilter. Could she blame shock for the fact that she wanted to fall back into the arms of the man she’d been so sure she detested?
Two weeks later, in conversation with a gallery curator, Raul found his gaze straying to Luisa. She stood before a display of botanical studies, talking to the junior curator who’d organised the exhibit.
Raul’s gaze slid appreciatively up her slender legs. It was the first time he’d seen her in a dress and he couldn’t keep his eyes off her. Especially when she smiled at her companion with all the warmth of her sunny homeland.
The impact was stunning. Heat flickered along his veins and pooled in his groin.
She was blossoming into a lovely woman. That had to explain why she’d been knotting his belly with thwarted desire since Paris.
And why he’d succumbed to temptation and kissed her in the tower. His pulse jumped and a spike of something like fear drove through his chest at the memory of her sprawled out over that fatal drop. The need to hold her and not release her had been unstoppable. The hunger for another sweet taste of her lips inexplicable.
It disturbed him, the force of this unexpected attraction.
She was utterly unlike his usual companions. She was unpolished, preferring flats to high heels and avoiding even the simplest of her inherited jewellery. She had a habit of talking to anyone, particularly the staff, rather than to VIPs. He sensed she’d be as happy chatting to the gardeners as attending a glitzy premiere occasion.
Yet his heart lifted when he was with her.
He told himself that was sentimental twaddle. Yet there was definitely something about his bride-to-be.
Raul shook his head. Didn’t he prefer his women sophisticated, assured and sexy?
Why did Luisa infiltrate his thoughts at every turn? Why had he found it so hard to release her that day in the tower? Or to pursue his own busy agenda while she began her lessons in language, etiquette, history and culture?
Because he wanted her. And, almost as much as he wanted her, he wanted her company.
Raul turned to his companion. ‘Could the Princess and I have time alone to view the rest of the exhibition?’
The curator agreed enthusiastically. Such interest boded well. Two minutes later Raul and Luisa were alone. Even the guard at the door discreetly melted into an adjoining space.
‘Thank you.’ She turned to him and he saw her eyes were overbright. His heart thumped an unfamiliar beat and his hand closed automatically over hers.
‘Are you OK?’ He’d thought to please her with this visit, not upset her. Show her she did have a connection with his homeland.
‘I didn’t expect to see my mum’s work on show. It was a lovely surprise.’
Raul shrugged. ‘She was a talented artist. It’s a shame she didn’t continue her botanical painting.’
Luisa looked away. ‘She dabbled but she said it was a discipline that needed dedication. She couldn’t give that. Not with the farm.’
He nodded. It was clear what a toll that place had taken on Luisa’s family. Her mother should have more than early works on display. She would have if she’d not embraced a life of hardship. All for the supposed love of a man who could give her so little.
People were fools, falling for the fantasy of love.
So-called love was an illusion. A trap for the unwary. Hadn’t he learnt that to his cost?
‘It was kind of you to bring me.’ She touched his sleeve and looked up from under her lashes in an unconsciously provocative way that made heat curl in his gut. ‘Lukas told me you rarely have time for such things, especially now.’
‘It was nothing. It’s been a while since I visited and there were issues to discuss.’ The last thing he needed was for her to get the idea he’d changed his schedule for her. Even if it was true.
Luisa had been stoically uncomplaining through her first weeks in Maritz. Yet the change must be difficult for her. Despite her heavy tuition schedule he’d often glanced up from a meeting to see her wandering in the gardens and he had the discomfiting notion she was lonely, despite her ever-widening acquaintance.
Guilt blanketed him. She was here because of him, his country, his needs. What did she personally get out of it?
She wasn’t interested in riches or prestige. The only money she wanted was to save her friends.
His lips twisted. She didn’t see him as a prize, even if she couldn’t conceal the passion that flared when he kissed her. Luisa Hardwicke was a salutary lesson to his ego.
‘I had no idea Mum’s work was so well regarded.’ She turned to examine a delicate drawing of a mountain wildflower and he followed, not wanting to lose the warmth of her hand on his arm.
‘Tell me about her.’
Luisa swung round. ‘Why?’
He shrugged, making light of his sudden need to understand Luisa’s family, and her. ‘She must have been strong to have stood up to your grandfather.’
Luisa grimaced. ‘Maybe it’s a family trait.’
‘Sorry?’
She shook her head. ‘I thought she was remarkable. And so did my dad.’
Raul threaded his fingers through hers, pleased when she didn’t pull away. ‘Tell me.’
For a long moment she regarded him. Then she seemed to make up her mind. ‘She was like other mums. Hard working, making do, running a household and doing the books. Always busy.’ Luisa paused. ‘She made the best cinnamon Christmas biscuits and she gave the warmest hugs—guaranteed to make you feel better every time. She loved roses and had an eye for fashion, even if we couldn’t afford to buy it.’
Luisa moved to the next picture and he followed. ‘She hated ironing and she detested getting up early.’
‘Not suited to be a farmer’s wife then.’ The change from palace to dairy must have been hard. Had the marriage been a disaster? He frowned. It didn’t sound so.
Luisa laughed, a rich, lilting chuckle and Raul’s senses stirred. ‘That’s what Dad used to say. He’d shake his head and pretend to be scared she’d go back to her glamorous world. Mum would smile that special smile she saved for him and say she couldn’t possibly leave till she mastered the art of cooking sponge cakes as well as my aunt. Dad would say no one could ever make sponges like Mary, so Mum would just have to stay for ever. Then he’d kiss her.’
Raul felt the delicate tremor in her hand and watched a wistful smile flit across Luisa’s features. He knew an unaccountable desire to experience what she had. The warmth, the love. A childhood of cinnamon biscuits and hugs. How different from his own upbringing!
‘But how did it work?’ He found himself curious. ‘They were so different.’
She shrugged. ‘They came from different worlds but they made their own together. Dad said she made him feel like a king. Mum always said he made her feel more like a princess than she’d ever felt living in a palace.’ Luisa swung to face him. ‘Life with my grandfather wasn’t pleasant. He tried to force her into marrying someone she detested, just to cement a deal. There was no laughter, no fun. Not like in our home.’
Someone she detested. Did Raul fit that category for Luisa? He told himself the country must come first, yet he couldn’t squash regret.
‘They were in love; that was the secret.’
It didn’t take a genius to know that was what Luisa had wanted for herself. Till he’d come along.
Never before had Raul’s duty seemed so onerous. He was doomed to disappoint her. He didn’t even believe in love. He’d never experienced it.
‘But she loved it here.’ Luisa turned to him, her smile a shade too bright. ‘Mum wanted to bring us one day to see it.’
‘I’m glad.’ He paus
ed, clasping her hand more firmly. ‘In time I hope you come to love it too. It’s a special place. There are no people like Maritzians.’
‘You’re not biased, are you?’
‘Surely that’s my prerogative.’ He led her towards the rest of the exhibition, regaling her with a traditional local story. It surprised him how much he wanted to hear her laugh again.
Raul strode swiftly to his study. There was a crushing amount of work to do and, though the unrest in the provinces had abated a little, he couldn’t afford to be complacent.
Yet the wedding tomorrow, a small affair since the nation was in mourning for his father, would pave the way for his coronation and go a long way to solving his problems.
Taking his bride to bed would go a long way towards easing the permanent ache in his groin.
Anticipation pulsed in his blood at the thought of his wedding night to come. His desire for Luisa grew daily.
The more time he spent with his bride-to-be the more she fascinated him. She was vibrant, engaging, determinedly independent and down-to-earth. Different from every other woman he knew.
Even now he never knew what to expect from her.
Lukas approached as he reached the study.
‘Your Highness.’ He fell into step beside Raul.
‘Yes? Am I late for my meeting?’
‘No, not that.’ His secretary hesitated, his mouth turning down. ‘You have a visitor. I wanted to warn—’
‘Raul. Darling!’ The husky female voice came from the door ahead. For one shattered instant Raul felt his feet rivet to the floor as shock vibrated through him. His hands clenched into fists. Then, bracing himself, he slowly approached the blonde draped in the doorway.
‘This is unexpected, Ana. What are you doing here?’
‘Surely you didn’t expect me to miss your wedding, darling?’ She straightened and lifted her head, her lips a crimson pout. ‘Your invitation didn’t reach me. Luckily I heard about it on the grapevine.’
He stopped a metre away, distaste prickling his skin. Foolishly, he’d thought he’d seen the last of her, for the time being at least.
They weren’t in public so there was no need for a courteous bow. And she could wait till hell froze over before he took up the invitation implicit in that pout.
