Page 7 of Pregnant With His Majesty's Heir

‘You can’t go.’ Her voice rose. ‘It’s not safe to drive and you haven’t got a place to stay.’ Why hadn’t she made that a priority?

He shrugged and reached for his pullover. ‘I’ll sleep in the car. I have to leave now.’

Aurélie stood in front of him, forcing him to look at her. When he did, the impact of that glittering stare almost rocked her back on her feet. Yet it was nothing to the urgent emotions within.

‘Why?’

He paused, hands fisting in the dark wool, his bare chest rising sharply on a ragged breath.

‘Because I want you, Aurélie.’

He dragged in another breath that rasped loud in the silence while his words demolished something inside her.

‘I’ve wanted you from the first moment you smiled and led me to my table. I watched you walk in front of me—your scent, the sway of your hips, the perfect curves of your backside...even the damned swing of your ponytail beckoned me.’ His voice ground low, hitting a husky note that dragged through her like fingers raking velvet.

Lucien swallowed and she watched the movement, read urgency and mouth-drying hunger in the jerky action. It mirrored her own response to his words, his nearness. Her throat was parched, her heartbeat jagged and she felt strung out with anticipation.

Hadn’t she spent the evening fascinated?Wanting?Trying to pretend that she didn’t? Telling herself it was mere charity that led her to invite him here when from the first she’d been driven by another compulsion entirely?

‘I thought I could control it. Be civilised and grateful and walk away. Iwillbe all those things,’ he added through clenched teeth, ‘but I have to gonow.’

Her hand closed on his bare arm and he went rigid, his breath like the hiss of water on molten metal. Surprisingly soft hair tickled her palm. She felt corded muscle and heat and again that singing, soaring sense of rightness.

‘I feel it too.’

‘What?’ Finally he swung his head to look at her.

‘I feel it. The connection. The...need.’ Aurélie swallowed against the emotions constricting her throat. ‘I don’t understand it. I don’t usually...’

She shook her head, bewildered by the strength of her feelings. Then, blessed relief, his other hand cupped her face, his touch fortifying and reassuring.

‘I don’t usually either.’

His expression was dead serious, despite the sexual tension twanging between them.

Aurélie lifted her chin. ‘I hadn’t realised how alone I felt until tonight. When you came...’ She paused, trying to find the words.

‘When I came, what, Aurélie?’

She could listen to him saying her name for ever, in that smoke and suede voice that undid her every time.

‘I can’t explain.’

His thumb brushed her cheek, slowing to swipe her bottom lip. She shivered. It felt as if a fine wire tightened between her mouth and her breasts.

‘Like there’s a link between us?’ he murmured.

‘As if I recognised you, knew you, though you’re a complete stranger.’ It was a relief to admit it, however crazy it sounded. Her hand tightened on his arm. She revelled in the connection, as if claiming him.

‘I feel the same.’ He shook his head, his expression grave. ‘I don’t want to leave, Aurélie. I want to be with you. Spend the night making love to you.’

Relief was a sigh of breath as her lungs emptied then refilled.

‘Yes.’ A smile trembled on her lips. ‘I want that too.’

Lightning flashed in his eyes and surely a jagged bolt struck her too. She felt the heat solder her feet to the floor.

‘Aurélie.’ He shook his head as if he couldn’t quite believe it. ‘You know I’m passing through. I won’t be back—’

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