Page 33 of Pregnant With His Majesty's Heir

‘Aurélie...’ His voice was a murmured rumble, cut off when another sound intruded. He looked up, past her shoulder.

There, her hand on the now open door, stood his fiancée.

‘Hello, Aurélie, Lucien.’ Ilsa’s voice broke the spell.

Aurélie stiffened, her heart jamming high in her throat. Had she been leaning up towards Lucien or had he been bending to her?

For a second longer her fingers clutched the pristine white of his formal shirt, feeling his body heat seep into hers. Then, with a gasp of horror, she stepped back.

Lucien’s eyes were unreadable but her own thoughts fed her guilt.

They’d started out discussing their baby. They’d argued and somehow ended up close enough for her to feel the thud of his heart and the urgent need to be closer. She’d remembered the taste of his kiss and wished she could relive it one final time.

Until Ilsa spoke.

Aurélie licked her lips, realising her mouth was bone-dry. Lucien’s gaze flickered on the movement and electricity zapped through her, puckering nipples and drawing her flesh tight.

She shuddered and they both stepped back.

She didn’t hear Ilsa approach over the thrumming of blood in her ears. But when she turned, the Princess was there, gorgeous in a dress of sky-blue silk. She wore bright blue gems at her ears and throat.

As Aurélie watched, Lucien turned to his fiancée. ‘Ilsa. We were discussing the baby. Aurélie has decided against us adopting.’

Ilsa’s gaze caught hers and Aurélie found herself holding her breath. Because she liked the woman and guessed she’d be disappointed by the decision?

Or because of the swamping guilt? She’d been caught leaning into Lucien, silently begging for his kiss.

Heat flamed her cheeks. Surely she’d never come on to another woman’s man? What had she been thinking?

Besides, look at this pair. They were perfect together.

Her gaze skated from Ilsa to Lucien, his formal eveningwear emphasising his lean, dark handsomeness and rangy athletic frame. Even the golden glow of his skin against the snowy shirt seemed to reinforce the difference between him and ordinary people like her.

Seeing them together, ready for their royal event, made a mockery of Aurélie’s crazy dreams. Here she was in jeans and a T-shirt top, while they... They looked exactly what they were. Inhabitants of a rarefied world she could never be part of.

It was as well she’d decided to go. Any other option would be impossible.

Ilsa spoke. ‘Aurélie, we need to—’

She didn’t want to hear any more. Not while her pulse still pounded in anticipation of Lucien’s mouth on hers. ‘I’m sorry. I can’t discuss this any more now. I’m very tired.’

She hurried to the door, filled with guilt and shame. Tomorrow, early, she’d go home.

For everyone’s sake, especially her own, she couldn’t stay here any longer.

CHAPTER NINE

‘WHATDOYOUMEAN, I can’t leave?’

Lucien’s assistant winced as Aurélie’s voice hit a high note. She strove to calm herself.

She was stressed. Sleep had been impossible last night. She’d spent hours tossing and turning, burning with regret as she relived the moment she’d been caught by Lucien’s fiancée, trying to kiss him. For, no matter how she evaded the truth, that was what she’d been doing.Willinghim to lean in and take her mouth.

She shivered at the memory.

As a result, she’d fallen asleep around dawn and woken so late that the meal she’d just finished in her room was lunch rather than breakfast.

She’d hoped to be on a bus out of the country this morning.

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