“Am I hurting you, amada?”
She shook her head to tell him he wasn’t. She didn’t trust herself to speak.
When had he become her prince? Because that was who he was, in her heart, and wasn’t that a joke? They’d met because his grandfather and her father had come up with an arrangement that would have made the devil laugh; he’d brought her here because he was as desperate to find a way out of it as she was…
Except, she wasn’t. Not anymore.
Lucas’s dark head was bent over her a scrape on her hand, baring his nape. Was it only last night she’d buried her fingers in the silky hair that grew there? Kissed his throat? Sighed his name and, God, welcomed him deep, deep inside her…
“Lucas.”
His name whispered from her lips. He looked up, his eyes going dark.
“Lyssa,” he said softly, wrapping a hand around the back of her head, bringing her mouth to his, her breath to his…
“Your Highness? The doctor is here.”
Lucas brushed his lips over Alyssa’s. Then he rose to his feet, introduced her to the doctor, frowned when the doctor suggested he leave the room…and left only after Alyssa touched his hand and said she’d be fine.
The doctor poked, delicately prodded, heard the entire story—well, not the entire story but enough of it to tell her she was a very fortunate young woman. Then he prescribed a salve for her cuts and tablets to take should the rapidly-rising lump on her forehead or the cut on her knee cause undue discomfort.
“Other than that, Your Highness,” he said, when Lucas rejoined them, “the señorita needs only a relaxing bath and a long siesta.”
Once he was gone, Lucas shut the door, then sat down on the bed next to her.
“Does your knee hurt, amada?”
“It’s only a little cut.”
“Your head?”
“Honestly, Lucas—”
“Honestly, amada,” he said gruffly, “you could have been killed! Is that only a little thing, too? Were you so desperate to get away from me that you would risk your life to do it?”
“No! I wasn’t—” She took a long breath. “It wasn’t you. It was everything. So much has happened and—and I didn’t want to think about any of it anymore.”
Lucas took her face in his hands. “And what happened last night?” he said softly. “Did you want to stop thinking about that, too?”
How simple it would be to say yes. To tell him last night had been a terrible mistake. She’d as much as said that this morning. All she had to do now was look into his eyes and say—and say—
“No!” The word burst from her throat on a shaky breath. “I’ll always think about last night, Lucas. All of it. Your kisses. Your caresses. Your—”
He stopped her words with a kiss. “Last night was wonderful, amada. And then I ruined it.”
“Not you. Me. I said things—”
He gathered her into his arms and kissed her again and again, until she was clinging to him.
“I accused you of things you would never do. And, Dios, such a gift you gave me. Your innocence…”
“You gave me a gift, too.” Her cheeks colored. “I never knew—I never imagined—”
Another kiss. Then Lucas leaned his forehead against hers.
“The médico suggested a warm bath.”
“Mmm.” Lazily she stroked her hand along his jaw.
“I will run it for you.”
There it was again, that mixture of tenderness and command. Alyssa smiled.
“Thank you.”
“But I am not comfortable with the idea of you bathing alone, chica.” He took her hand from his face, turned the palm up and pressed a kiss to the tender flesh. “You are hurt.”
“Really, I’m fine. You heard what the doctor said.”
“The doctor did not see that truck coming at you. He did not hear the sound of its horn.” Lucas drew her into his arms. “Dolores or one of the maids could stay with you.”
“Honestly, Lucas—”
“There’s that word again.”
“Lucas. I don’t want Dolores or one of the maids in the bathroom with me.”
“Did you know more accidents happen in bathrooms than any other place in a house?”
She had to smile. “That’s desperate.”
“It’s true.”
“I don’t care what statistics you quote me. I am not taking a bath with an audience.”
“I knew you would say that, chica.” He held her at arm’s length. “So here is what I will do. I will take a bath with you. At great personal sacrifice, of course.” The low flame in his eyes made the words a lie. “How does that sound?” he added in a husky whisper.
There was only one possible answer to the question, and she gave it to him on a long, deep kiss.
He undressed her as the tub filled, cursed ripely when he saw the cut on her knee and the other scrapes and bruises on her flesh.
“I’m fine,” she said lightly.
He shook his head.
“Dios, when I think of what might have happened—”
Alyssa touched his face. “But it didn’t, thanks to you.”
Lucas looked up. All at once, a fist seemed to close around his heart. He felt something, an emotion, a joy. He had no name for it. No word for it unless—unless—
“The bath,” he said, shooting to his feet. “Let me check.”
Alone in the bathroom, he clutched the rim of the marble sink and peered into the mirror, half-afraid he’d see the face of a stranger instead of his own.
Too many things were going on at once, that was the problem. He was worried about Felix; the foolish, impossible contract was not yet dealt with; this accident had been a close call…
Too many things. That was all.
The black marble tub was full. He shut off the water, turned on the circulators, went back to the bedroom and lifted Alyssa in his arms, but there was no fooling her.
“Lucas?” she asked quietly. “What’s the matter?”
He looked down at the face that had once belonged to a stranger and that fist around his heart gave another knowing squeeze.
“Nothing,” he said. “It is just that you are so beautiful…”
He kissed her and tried to ignore the feel of her naked flesh against him. She’d been in a terrible accident. This was no time to think about making love.
But it was the right time to tend to her bruises.
He kissed her forehead. Her bruised cheek. Her mouth. She sighed with pleasure.
Slowly he put her on her feet. Then he sat on the edge of the tub, drew her forward so she stood, naked, between his parted thighs.
Was that a bruise on her breast? No. It was only a shadow…but he kissed it just the same, kissed the soft flesh, circled the nipple with his tongue until she moaned.
“Does this hurt, amada?” he whispered.
“No. God, no, it feels—it feels—”
Lucas sucked the nipple into his mouth. Alyssa swayed, clasped his shoulders, murmured his name.
The bruise on her knee. That deserved his attention, too. He pressed his lips to it gently, then kissed his way up her leg, inhaling her scent, Dios, drunk on her scent, on the little cries she was making.
He cupped her hips. She leaned back; her thighs parted.
“That’s it,” he said thickly. “Open for me. Let me see if you need to be kissed here. And here. And—”
He put his mouth to her and she came instantly, her taste honeyed against his tongue, her cry filling him with her sweetness.
Lucas rose to his feet. Trembling, she fell against him. He held her close, kissed her mouth, shuddered when he felt her hands pulling at his shirt, his belt…
Together, they stripped off his clothes. They moved quickly but when he lifted her and put her into the tub, his hands were gentle.
By the time he joined her in the steamy water, sanity was returning.
She’d been injured. And he, Dios, he’d forgotten everything but how beautiful
she was, how much he wanted her…
“Lyssa. Forgive me, amada. I shouldn’t have—”
She moved into his embrace. Her mouth met his and clung. She lifted her hips, wrapped her legs around him and impaled herself on his rigid length.
Lucas groaned. Kissed her. Told her that he loved her kisses, her taste, her scent but most of all, most of all he loved this. Being inside her. Being part of her. Being one with her.
No. Most of all, he loved—he loved—
Alyssa convulsed around him and he stopped thinking.
After, he wrapped her in an enormous white towel. Then he brought her to his bed. She raised her arms to him, just as she had done the prior night. He came down beside her, gathered her close and feathered kisses on her eyelids.
Moments later, the sound of her breathing told him she was asleep. He was close to sleep, too. Dios, how incredible this was. Sleeping with her, making love with her…
His body stiffened.
Making love without a condom.
What had become of his brain? Last night and again today, no protection. He had never been so careless in his life.
Thank God he had a box of condoms in the night table drawer to use next time.
He wanted children but unlike some of his contemporaries, he wanted them after he was married. Wanted them born to a woman who was his wife.
His wife…
He lay there for a long time before he fell asleep.
“Rise and shine, sleepyhead.”
Alyssa dug deeper into the blankets.
“Whoever you are, go away.”
“Whoever I am?” the voice said indignantly.
“You want me to think you’re Lucas Reyes. But the real Lucas would never be so cruel as to wake me.” Alyssa stretched luxuriously, loving the feel of the Egyptian cotton sheets against her naked body. “How do I know you’re him?”
Just as she’d hoped, a warm hand cupped her face. A coffee-flavored mouth claimed hers.
“Are you convinced?” a husky voice murmured.
“Mmm. Is that coffee?”
“Uh-huh. A whole pot of it’s waiting for you on the balcony. Sound good?”
“One more kiss and I’ll let you know.”
“Behave yourself,” Lucas said sternly. “Or I’ll be back in that bed with you.”
Alyssa laughed softly and reached for him. He caught her hands, kissed them and brought them to her sides.
“If I get into in that bed, I’ll just have to send all this stuff back. I mean, I’ll have to assume you don’t want any of it.”
“The coffee?”
“Not the coffee, sleepyhead. The other things.”
Alyssa sat up, clutching the duvet and blinking the sleep from her eyes.
“What other things?”
Lucas grinned. “Ta da,” he said, and stepped aside.
Her mouth dropped open. Boxes were stacked like building blocks behind him. Big ones. Small ones. Some were wrapped in glossy paper, others were tied with gold ribbon, silver ribbon, white satin ribbon…
“Lucas?”
His grin widened. “Open one, chica.”
“But…What is all this?”
He picked up a flat white box and tossed it to her. “Why not find out?”
Alyssa pulled at the silver ribbon and gasped. The box was filled to overflowing with sexy silk panties and equally sexy matching bras.
“I didn’t know what colors you’d like,” he said modestly, “so I ordered them all.”
“Lucas. Honestly—”
“One of your favorite words, amada. Honestly, you needed something to wear.”
“But not all this! Lucas, really—”
Another box landed next to her. “At least take a look and tell me if you hate my taste, chica. As a favor, si?”
She flashed him a look, told herself sternly she would not be drawn in…
And undid the ribbon.
“Oh,” she whispered. “Oh, Lucas!”
“Is that a good ‘oh’ or a bad ‘oh’?”
He sounded so innocent, but the self-satisfied gleam in his eyes gave him away.
“It’s a bad one,” she said primly. “Why would any woman want a dress like this? A dress made of—of gossamer and moonbeams and—and, oh God, it’s so beautiful…”
Lucas caught her up in his arms.
“You are what is beautiful,” he said. “And I hope you will do me the honor of wearing these things, amada, because it will do my heart so much good.”
Alyssa looped her arms around her lover’s neck.
“It will do your heart good, hmm?”
He grinned. “Si.”
“And if I said no, I want to wear my own clothes?”
“I would say, these are your own clothes now, chica—especially since I told Dolores to toss out the others.”
“You tossed out my clothes without asking me?”
“Of course. What was the point in asking when I knew you would insist on keeping them?”
He was laughing and it was impossible not to laugh with him. Alyssa ran through her mental list again. Her prince was arrogant and impossible, and why did she love him anyway?
Because she did. She loved him, loved him—
“Lyssa? What is it?”
“Nothing,” she said breathlessly. “Nothing. I just—I just felt a little dizzy, that’s all.”
His eyes darkened. “Shall I call the doctor? Is it your head? Your knee?”
It was her heart, but how did you say that to a man who wouldn’t want to hear it?
“I’m fine. Truly. I’m just—I’m thrilled that you thought of giving me such beautiful things.”
“Really?” he said softly. “You feel all right?”
“I feel wonderful.”
Lucas cleared his throat. “In that case…I told my grandfather we would be at the hospital by six.”
“Your grandfather? You spoke to him?”
“Si.”
“How is he?”
“Let’s put it this way. I said we would be there in a couple of hours. He said he would be watching a news show on CNN in a couple of hours and that he would expect us at six.”
“Then he’s better.”
“He is arrogant, demanding and dictatorial.”
Alyssa laughed.
“What is so amusing? Are you suggesting I am like that?” He grinned. “Okay. Maybe just a little. But yes, Felix is better. Much better, or so it would seem.” He caught her hands in his. “Will you come with me and meet him, amada? It is important to me.”
The bright day seemed to dim.
Of course it was important to him. Once they spoke with Felix Reyes, they could settle the contract issue once and for all. Lucas would be free of her and she would be free of him.
Free to go back to Texas, never to see her prince again…
“Lyssa. Damn it, something is wrong. Tell me what it is and I will fix it.”
Alyssa looked into her lover’s eyes. He was a good man. An honorable man. A powerful man. But not even Lucas Reyes, Prince of Andalusia, could fix a heart that was about to be broken.
“What’s wrong,” she said lightly, “is that you’ve only left me half an hour to dress. A woman needs more than that, Your Highness. If I’m not properly put together, whatever will you grandfather think?”
Lucas gathered her tightly against him and stroked his hand down her back.
Si, he thought, as he pressed his lips to the top of his Lyssa’s head, that was an excellent question.
What would Felix think?
The old man had poked his nose where it hadn’t belonged. He’d interfered in two lives…
And miraculously changed both of them, forever.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
THE last months of Aloysius’s life, Alyssa had spent a lot of time in hospitals. She was prepared for what she was certain would come next. The smell of disinfectant. Harsh lighting. The brisk efficiency of the staff that kept emotions at bay.
There was none of that in the hospital in which Felix Reyes was a patient.
The corridors were bright but pleasant; the smell clean, not antiseptic. Nurses and aides smiled and greeted Lucas cordially.
Even Felix’s room was homey if you ignored the machines and monitors beeping and humming on the wall beside his bed.
Felix himself was sitting up, propped by a stack of pillows. His eyes were that combination of gold and green and brown, like Lucas’s. He had a neatly trimmed white mustache and beard. Dignity and authority clung to him like a royal cloak, though not enough to disguise his obvious frailty.
A smile lit his face when he saw Lucas.
“Mi hijo,” he said, opening his arms.
The men embraced. The affection between them made Alyssa’s throat constrict. Her mother had been reserved, and she and her father—her adoptive father—had so rarely showed warmth to each other that the times they had stood out in her memory.
The last had been the day she’d brought him home from the hospital after he’d pleaded to leave this earth under the wide sky of El Rancho Grande.
To her dismay, tears burned in the corners of her eyes. She blinked them back just as Lucas stepped away from the bed and Felix Reyes looked at her.
“And this, of course, is Alyssa.”
“Your Highness.”
“It is a pleasure to meet you, child.”
“I’m glad to see you’re feeling better.”
Felix chuckled. “Very polite. Hardly anyone would realize you had avoided saying it was a pleasure to meet me, too.”
Lucas’s arm curled around her waist. “Grandfather,” he said softly, “Alyssa’s been through a great deal.”
“I understand, mi hijo. If I were she, I would not feel kindly toward me, either.”
“I mean no disrespect, sir, but—”
“But, if I were not plugged into all these infernal devices, you would look me in the eye and tell me just what you think of an old man who had the audacity to meddle in your life. That’s the truth, girl, is it not?”
Alyssa took a deep breath. “I would tell you that you and Aloysius did some things you shouldn’t have done.”
Felix looked pointedly at how she stood, Lucas’s arm tightly around her, their bodies lightly brushing.
“And yet,” he said softly, “it all seems to be working out well.”
The Spanish Prince s Virgin Bride Page 12
