Page 42 of Pregnant With His Majesty's Heir

‘Yes, Henri?’ he called.

The door opened and Henri appeared, his gaze fixed on the tea tray at the end of the sofa rather than the room’s occupants.

‘I’m sorry to interrupt, Your Majesty. It’s the Prime Minister. He says he needs to meet you again urgently. He’s offered to drive up to the castle—’

‘No!’ That was something Lucien had learned from his uncle. To keep official meetings away from home. To preserve some sort of private life.

Lucien looked down at Aurélie’s bright hair and felt again that clench of hungry possessiveness. And some emotion he guessed stemmed from the fact she carried his baby.

If they were going to have a private family life, he needed to safeguard it, beginning now. Of course he’d spend hours of his so-called private time doing official paperwork, but he wouldn’t turn their home into a meeting place for government officials.

It struck Lucien that the castlewashome, no matter how reluctant he’d been to return.

The first time driving past the spot where Justin died had been tough, but here, in the place where he’d spent so many happy years, he felt only comfort.

And anticipation. He squeezed Aurélie’s waist and her eyes met his. Immediately heat reignited in his belly, and he silently cursed the Prime Minister, even though he was doing his job.

‘Ask my secretary to set up a meeting in the palace—’ he glanced at his watch ‘—in an hour.’

‘Very good, Your Majesty.’

What had just happened?

With dazed eyes Aurélie looked from the withdrawing butler to Lucien’s serious expression.

Inevitably her gaze slid to his mouth, to those lips that had taken her to the edge of paradise.

What a kiss!

She’d been putty in his hands, not just acquiescent but collaborating in her own seduction.

Because Lucien had insisted it wasn’t over between them.

Because he knew to the day how long they’d been apart. Her stupid heart had dipped and shivered when she heard that. It had seemed impossibly romantic.

He had the power to undo her defences with a look, aside from the caress of his lips and that hungry, confident way he’d hauled her to him as if she was his.

But none of that meant she belonged here! She didn’t. She never would, no matter what her wayward body felt.

She stepped back, only to discover his arm still around her waist.

‘Where are you going?’ he murmured and Aurélie hated herself for loving the deep gravel note of his voice, as if his body hadn’t yet accepted the news that sex wasn’t on the agenda.

‘I can’t stay here.’ She didn’t try to break his hold, knowing it was futile. Instead she jerked her chin higher and met his stare with what she hoped was cool confidence. ‘I don’t belong.’

‘I want you here, which means you belong. No one else has a say in that.’

‘Not even me?’ Aurélie wished she could shake free of the fog engulfing her. It was hard to think because Lucien had kissed her and said he wanted her.

But then he kissed like a fallen angel, with all the skills of a born sensualist and the ruthless determination of a man used to getting his own way.

‘You’re being deliberately obtuse. Of course you have a say. That’s why you’re here, so we can talk. Among other things.’

One look from under heavy eyelids, one suggestive comment and her body fired with longing. Flames licked through her veins, flaring in deep-seated places that made her shift and look away.

Aurélie moved back, out of his hold. ‘Now who’s being obtuse? You’re a king. You meet with the Prime Minister! I’m a waitress. I’ll never belong here.’

‘You have something against royalty?’

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