Page 45 of Pregnant With His Majesty's Heir

He was already shaking his head.

‘You’re saying I have no choice? What if I leave?’

‘You’d find that difficult. Taxis can’t come up here without permission and the estate boundary is patrolled.’

‘I’m not your prisoner!’

‘No, you’re my guest.’ He paused and Aurélie felt her pulse beat high in her throat as she saw again that bright, hard gleam in his eyes. Proprietorial, that was how it looked. As if she belonged to him.

She wanted to rail at him, tell him he had no right to keep her here.

Yet part of her revelled in that fierce possessiveness. Because it matched her feelings for him.

That was the secret that above all she had to hide.

‘Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must go.’ He raised her hand to his lips, his open-mouthed kiss sending a rush of longing through her, weakening her knees and making her heart pound. Then he was gone, leaving her prey to turbulent emotion.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

AURÉLIEDIDN’TSEELucien again that day or the next. He sent his apologies, saying affairs of state kept him busy but he’d see her soon. Leaving her frustrated.

Yet, having watched the news, Aurélie understood he wasn’t avoiding her. The broken royal engagement had rocked the country and, it seemed, the whole of Europe. Speculation was rife on the cause of the split but Lucien and Princess Ilsa refused to make a public statement.

No wonder the Prime Minister had been desperate to see Lucien. There was talk of a rift between the two nations and plans for a joint economic zone disintegrating. Aurélie felt sick, knowing she was at the heart of it all.

She told herself that was why she couldn’t settle to sleep on her second night in the castle. Despite her long walk through the woods, and the delicious dinner, and even a mug of hot chocolate before bed.

Finally she gave up trying to sleep and in desperation dragged on yoga pants and a T-shirt. Stretches and gentle yoga might help relieve her tension.

It was almost midnight when she heard footsteps outside her room. Surely even Lucien’s motherly housekeeper wouldn’t be on duty now. She’d discreetly fussed over Aurélie since she’d discovered her retching in the bathroom this morning. Aurélie had been embarrassed, but the woman’s practical kindness and encouraging smiles had finally put her at ease. So much so that Aurélie feared she’d miss being looked after when she left.

A soft knock sounded.

‘Come in.’

The door opened and her breath stopped as Lucien stepped in.

From her position on the floor he looked bigger and more imposing than ever. At her eye level tailored trousers outlined rock-hard thighs. He’d taken off his jacket and tie, wearing a pale shirt with the sleeves rolled up to reveal strong forearms dusted with dark hair.

Her pulse beat hard, so hard it was a wonder he didn’t hear it.

‘Lucien.’ Was that her voice, wispy and breathless?

‘Aurélie. I expected you to be asleep.’

‘You came to check?’ She rose as he approached.

He stopped, fingers flexing at his sides, and she recalled the last time he’d touched her. How it had felt, wrapped in his embrace.

Eventually she remembered to breathe and his gaze lowered, tracing the T-shirt that clung to her suddenly heaving breasts. Slowly his attention moved lower. Her thin yoga pants seemed somehow negligible, as if that scorching gaze saw right through them.

Aurélie felt the crackle of heat igniting deep inside. She pushed her shoulders back, telling herself she needed to look in control. Or was she recklessly responding to the interest darkening his eyes?

‘My room is at the top of the tower, above this. I saw the light under your door.’

Crazy that the thought of him sleeping just above her should feel intimate. Crazier still to feel arousal like a jag of lightning sear through her.

They weren’t even in touching distance, yet the fine hairs on her arms rose as her skin prickled in awareness. Her mouth dried and she swallowed hard. In the stillness of night it felt as if no one else existed. Just them.

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