Page 4 of Pregnant With His Majesty's Heir

Yes, a place to stay. Dimly he realised he needed that. Somewhere quiet where he could be anonymous. It would be his last quiet, anonymous night. Suddenly that seemed incredibly precious.

From this point on there’d be no anonymity, at least in his home country. Certainly no chances to head off with friends after work for a party.

As for working late in his office... Lucien drew a sharp breath. No doubt he’d spend many nights working late but it wouldn’t be at his architect’s desk and it wouldn’t be on any of the projects he’d planned.

All that would be denied him.

He grimaced, catching the direction of his thoughts.

How could he feel self-pity when Justin could feel nothing at all? When, in a couple of days, Justin and his father would be laid side by side in the family vault.

‘Are you sure you don’t need a doctor?’ She’d stopped before a battered wooden door, the meagre light from a wall sconce making her hair glow.

‘Quite sure.’ Lucien made an attempt to escape his circling thoughts and focus. He frowned down at her. ‘You don’t know me. Do you think it safe to invite strangers home?’ Her eyebrows arched as she stared up at him. ‘Sorry. I don’t mean to sound like your father.’

He didn’t like the idea of someone taking advantage of her. Through the welter of old memories a new one surfaced, of that young tourist trying to grope her. Lucien’s jaw tightened.

Her laugh was short and bitter. ‘You don’t sound at all like my father.’

Instinct nudged Lucien, telling him there was more to her words than was obvious, but already she was opening the door.

‘Don’t worry, I’m not inviting you here to have my wicked way with you.’ Her words were sharp but her eyes slid from his. It struck him that she’d misinterpreted his concern as a jibe at her morals. ‘I just don’t want to come out tomorrow to find you frozen in a doorway. So, if you’re coming, hurry up.’

No mistaking the snap in her words. Lucien silently cursed his clumsy tongue. The last thing he’d intended was to insult her. He liked her. And right now she felt like his only anchor to a sane and better world.

A couple of minutes later he stood in a tiny living space with the smallest excuse for a kitchen he’d ever seen tucked at one end.

She threw out an arm to one of two doorways and he felt a pang of disappointment that she didn’t meet his eyes. He wanted her cautious with other men but not, he discovered, with him. ‘That’s the bathroom. There’s a clean towel on the shelf. Help yourself to a shower to warm up while I make us hot drinks.’

‘Thank you. You’re very kind. I appreciate it.’

Lucien paused, willing her to turn. Finally she did and he saw wariness and a bruised look in her brown eyes. Had he hurt her? Tonight he felt clumsy, lost between the present and the past, having trouble expressing himself. It took a monumental effort to conjure a smile of thanks. His taut facial muscles protested, but he saw her expression ease a little.

She nodded towards the bathroom. ‘And pass out your pullover. I’ll put it near the radiator to dry.’

It was only then Lucien realised he was wet as well as cold. In the warmth of this tiny space his clothes clung uncomfortably, the wool itching his skin.

‘I’ll give it to you now.’ He hauled the wet wool up and over his head and held it out to her. ‘Thanks.’

Then he took the couple of strides to the bathroom, telling himself he’d feel more himself when dry and warm.

Aurélie blinked as the bathroom door closed. Minutes later she heard the shower start up and realised he’d have to bend to fit under the spray. The flat was tiny and he dwarfed it. He was well over six feet tall.

And beautifully built.

Her thoughts strayed to his lean yet powerful-looking body. The play of muscles as he shrugged off his pullover then strolled away, loose-limbed and straight-shouldered. Aurélie’s gaze had dropped to his perfectly rounded backside in black jeans and her mouth had dried.

No, it had dried when he smiled. Those amber eyes had warmed, crinkling at the corners, and she’d felt it like a punch to the middle.

As if no man had ever smiled at her before.

Never a man like that.

She wasn’t sure what made him different.

Her mouth tugged into a rueful curve. Nothing apart from stunning looks, an aura of magnetism and a smile that transformed his face despite the lines of strain. And that air of brooding distraction that teased her curiosity.

Whatever it was, it made Aurélie realise with a sudden jab how isolated she was, despite her busy schedule and her plans for the future.

---