Page 57 of Claiming His Virgin Princess

Because if he did her willpower would crumple.

He reared back, palm raised, and she read shock flash across his features. It almost looked like hurt but that was her imagination.Shewas the one hurting.

‘I’m sorry, Noah, but I can’t. It’s impossible.’

‘Because of your commitments in Altbourg? We can work through that.’

Ilsa shook her head. ‘It’s not just that. It’s everything. The truth is I can’t see it working between us. We have different lives and different expectations.’

She wanted love, for a start.

After all she’d been through, all the disappointments, surely she deserved that. To be wanted for herself, just a woman, not a princess or a potential mother.

Even if she could have Noah’s children, there was no reason to think she’d ever have his love. And she wanted that, so badly it terrified her.

Pain bloomed low in her body and spread slowly but inexorably until there seemed to be nothing left.

Noah moved closer, invading her space so she had to tilt her chin to meet his eyes. His warm male scent tantalised her, the fact that she could reach out and touch him and he would let her. But it wasn’t enough.

‘Think about it, Ilsa.’ His voice dropped to that low note that always undid her. She had to stiffen her knees. ‘We’re good together. We can be even better.’ He paused, his gaze pinioning her. ‘You know we can barely keep our hands off each other.’

‘This isn’t about sex.’

‘I agree. But you can’t ignore what we already have.’ Then he reached for her.

Stepping back was the hardest thing Ilsa had ever done. Harder than ending her engagement and facing pressure from the press, disappointing her family and her nation.

‘Please, Noah. I said no and I meant it!’ Her voice rose, strident with distress, making him freeze. ‘I don’t want you to touch me again.’

Then, with tears blurring her eyes, she spun away, grabbed her bag and stumbled out.

It was only as she reached the ground floor that she realised she’d left her jacket behind and that she probably looked thoroughly debauched, perfect fodder for the paparazzi.

That was the least of her worries.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

‘IFYOU’DLIKEto sit here a little longer—’

‘No, thank you,’ Ilsa hurried to assure the doctor. ‘I’m fine. I’m sure you have other patients.’

She’d probably already used up more than her allotted time. She got to her feet.

‘Don’t forget, tomorrow at nine. We can do the scan here. It’s more convenient and private.’

In other words, the staff were discreet and there was less chance of rumours reaching the press.

Ilsa nodded. ‘Tomorrow at nine. Thank you again.’

She emerged into a quiet boulevard with leafy shade trees. She drew a deep breath and walked briskly to her car. Ilsa preferred not to be photographed outside her doctor’s office but she hadn’t wanted an appointment at the palace, where it was impossible to keep a secret.

Instinctively she headed out of the city, driving on autopilot to a small country road and her favourite thinking spot looking across meadows and woodland to a shimmering lake.

A little while later Ilsa sat in the flower-starred grass and tried to absorb the peace that surrounded her. The bright sunlight warming her. The song of a bird nearby. The sight of a couple of butterflies looping and wheeling across the wildflowers.

Yet her blood effervesced and her heart raced.

She was pregnant.

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