Page 32 of Claiming His Virgin Princess

She shrugged. ‘Supporting my father and doing good works.’

Ilsa liked helping her people. She got a buzz out of making a difference, especially with social initiatives that the government considered too hard or too risky to invest in. It was the other duties, standing in for her father or brother, that she found increasingly frustrating. Because she wasn’t valued for what she could contribute but simply as a royal placeholder.

That had to change. When she returned—

‘You’d have been Queen if you’d stayed in Vallort.’

Noah’s words jolted her, a reminder of her scandalous broken engagement. But when she looked at Noah he seemed lost in thought.

‘Yet you decided against that and gave up another significant role you’d been groomed for.’ His bright eyes snared hers. ‘For someone trained from birth to lead you must feel like your world has been tipped upside down.’

Relief scudded through her. Hedidunderstand. It felt like he was the only one who did.

‘I’ll adapt.’ She had no choice.

‘I’m sure you will.’

His confidence warmed her.

Yet it was difficult when the life mapped out for her hadn’t followed the expected route. She’d been brought up to follow expectations. First there was being removed as royal heir, though she still gave thanks for her brother’s recovery. Then the arranged match with Justin, Prince of Vallort. They’d known each other for years, and when he died she’d grieved for him as a friend.

But before she’d had time to adjust to that, the powers that be had demanded the engagement proceed, this time with Justin’s heir, Lucien.

Ilsa had thought she could do what was expected. She liked Lucien. But even she, raised to expect an arranged marriage, refused to marry a man clearly in love with someone else.

So here she was, with no true vocation. No sense of purpose.

Something stirred inside, a twisting ache she’d tried to conquer, but it never quite went away. Ilsa might have been raised to rule but the secret she’d never shared with anyone was that she’d only ever had one dream. To be a mother.Thatshe felt passionate about.

Her aspiration to have children wasn’t something she discussed, especially not with her father. But it was one of the reasons she’d agreed to an arranged marriage, hoping to make a family of her own.

Now that dream was in doubt. She was in her late twenties, with endometriosis and a family history of fertility problems. Her cousin, the same age as Ilsa, with the same condition, had tried unsuccessfully for years to have a baby.

Ilsa’s doctor had warned of fertility issues. Her chances of having children grew slimmer with time. So when Lucien’s ex-lover had turned up, pregnant with a baby she wasn’t sure she could raise, Ilsa had considered adopting the child with Lucien. Until it became clear the pair were head over heels in love.

What would it be like to be loved like that? As if nothing else in the world mattered. She couldn’t imagine it.

Noah brushed her hair in a soothing sweep that ended on her bare back. Ilsa arched into his touch, preferring to focus on the skin to skin contact than thoughts of what she didn’t have.

She was otherwise healthy. She had her family and friends, a comfortable home and worldly wealth that made it possible to help others. She had much to be grateful for. Maybe that, she decided, would be her future. Putting into practise the social support schemes she hadn’t been able to convince the Altbourg authorities to fund.

Talking frankly with Noah helped her see more clearly. It put in perspective what she really wanted.

She lifted her gaze to his, stunned at how good it felt to share with a man who didn’t judge her but simply made her feel good.

It was weak and dangerous to wish that this idyll could last. Their lives lay in separate directions. Yet she couldn’t help wishing...

Noah watched her raise her eyes to his. She looked troubled. Despite her pragmatic words he’d caught an undercurrent of sadness in her tone.

‘What are you thinking, Ilsa?’

He’d read between the lines and guessed at how momentous and unsettling recent events had been for her. He wanted to ask if her family had helped her. Had she had support? Did she discuss this stuff with them? Or was she supposed to suck it up and carry on alone?

Yet, as he watched, her mouth curled up at the corners. ‘I was thinking how much I like being with you.’

His hold of her sweet body tightened. ‘Good. I feel the same. I vote we stay and explore Istanbul before seeing more of Turkey.’

They hadn’t discussed a specific time limit and he wanted to hear Ilsa say she wasn’t in a hurry to return to Altbourg.

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