He’d had sex with her while pretending to be someone else! He’d thought—and presumably still did—that she had a comprehensive backlist of lovers! He’d tried to wriggle out of marrying her!
Reality shattered the tension like a rock hurled through a window, but she tried to block it because she didn’t want to think about those things right now. She didn’t want to destroy the pleasure she was feeling. But, infuriatingly, she couldn’t keep them at bay any longer—and one thought dominated everything. Wasn’t this just another example of Constantin/Roman amusing himself with her as if she were his own, personal plaything? And was she prepared to go along with that?
No, she was not.
Somehow Zabrina untangled herself from his arms and took a step sideways, needing to put some space between them, terrified that any closer and she’d be tempted to carry on. But hot on her frustration came a sudden wave of irritation when she saw just how composed Roman looked. Why, he might have been doing nothing more strenuous than reading the financial pages of the newspaper!
‘That’s enough,’ she said, in a low voice.
‘So I see. But you’re not going to deny how much you were enjoying that, are you?’ he challenged softly.
Oh, if only that were the case—but Zabrina was no hypocrite. She wished she knew what she wanted. Or what she didn’t want. Deep down she wanted to make a success of this arranged marriage, but everything seemed to be in such a muddle. She was in a muddle and she didn’t know what do.
She wanted to burst into tears and laugh out loud, all at the same time. She wanted to rush from the breakfast room—yet she wanted him to lock the door and finish what they had started. But she mustn’t. She really mustn’t. The King of Petrogoria had spent the last week treating her with polite and considered detachment. He hadn’t shown a single jot of desire for her. He had behaved as if she were some convalescing relative who’d come to stay at the palace, not the flesh and blood woman he was soon to marry. Only now he seemed to have become bored with that particular course of action—and presumably that was why he had kissed her. Was this all some sort of game to him? Did he think she was like one of those old-fashioned dolls her grandmother used to have—the ones you wound up so they would obediently walk and talk for you?
‘You know I was enjoying it. But we both know the rules. Or rather, I thought we did. No...’ Her voice trembled a little but she forced herself to say it. Why be shy of saying something they’d actually done? ‘No sex until we’re officially man and wife.’
‘That didn’t seem to bother you on the train, Zabrina.’
‘I wasn’t... I wasn’t thinking straight on the train,’ she said, smoothing the crumpled skirt of her dress with palms which were clammy. ‘And we were lucky not to have been caught. We might not be so lucky this time. So if you’ll excuse me, I’m going. I want to get down to the stables before my dress fitting and check everything is ready for Midas’s arrival.’
‘As you wish.’ He was looking at her thoughtfully—as if he knew perfectly well that her composure was nothing but a façade. But the hard gleam of his eyes was underpinned with something else and she couldn’t quite work out what it was. ‘Oh, and I’m going away for a few days.’
And Zabrina was surprised by the sudden sinking of her heart. He was going away without her, leaving her alone in the palace? ‘Where?’
‘I’m taking a short trip to the Marengo Forest. I want to meet with a few people there so we can get the ball rolling on the airport development as soon as the wedding takes place.’
She nodded her head. Of course his mind was fixed on his shiny new acquisition—wasn’t that the main reason he would soon be sliding a golden band on her finger? And, while he might have been momentarily distracted by that passionate encounter, he wasn’t obsessing about it, like her. He wasn’t reading all kinds of things into it which simply didn’t exist. So show him how independent you can be. Don’t be such a limpet. She nodded. ‘In that case, I’ll see you when you get back. Have a good trip.’
He had started walking ahead and when Zabrina realised he was pulling rank on her, she had to resist a childish urge to race him to the door! But just as he reached the door, he briefly turned his dark head.
‘Oh, by the way, you’ll find some jewellery waiting when you get back to your suite.’
‘What kind of jewellery?’
‘Just a necklace. I thought you could wear it to the palace ball on Saturday.’
CHAPTER TEN
‘JUST’ A NECKLACE, Roman had said. But this wasn’t just any old necklace, Zabrina had quickly realised. This was a glitzy waterfall of sparkling emeralds and diamonds which was too big and too heavy and completely swamped her. But she supposed it was exactly the sort of accessory people would expect a future queen to wear and she had to admit that the jewels matched perfectly her green ball gown. And how strange it was that as she had slit
hered into the silk creation earlier, she had felt a slow building of anticipation rather than dread. From someone who had hated dresses she had found herself wondering if Roman would approve of her outfit. It came as something of a shock to realise she was dressing for him.
The candlelit ballroom was decked with fragrant white roses and now, as the remains of the seven-course banquet were cleared away and the Petrogorian Chamber Orchestra started to play, Roman led her from the table to begin the dancing. The other guests had formed a circle around the dance floor like spectators at a bullfight, to watch the newly engaged couple on their first formal outing. But Zabrina was aware that every eye in the golden ballroom was fixed on her. People’s gazes were running over her assessingly. Possibly critically. She worried that the high-flown members of Petrogorian society wouldn’t approve of the Princess who was shortly to become their Queen. She found herself wishing she’d worn higher shoes because she barely reached Roman’s shoulder and surely the discrepancy in their height must make them look faintly bizarre as a couple.
Her sudden attack of anxiety wasn’t helped by the recognition that some of the most beautiful women she’d ever seen were gathered in this sumptuous ballroom, along with their powerful husbands. But her smile hadn’t faltered as line after line of Roman’s loyal subjects had filed in front of her before dinner, and the Prime Minister had seemed favourably impressed when she’d quoted from one of his country’s ancient poets.
Zabrina could feel the loud skitter of her pulse as Roman put his arms around her and she tried not to let her inner excitement show too much. The King had been away in the Marengo Forest for three whole days and she was taken aback by how pleased she’d been to see him again. To touch him again. Wasn’t it crazy how being on a dance floor allowed you to be intimate with a man in a way which would be forbidden anywhere else? And she had missed him. Missed him more than she should have done, considering she’d barely known him a fortnight. More than anything, she wanted to talk to him because they’d been seated at opposite sides of the table during the sumptuous banquet and had barely exchanged a word all evening.
‘So, when did you get back?’ she asked a little breathlessly as they began to move in time to the music, because she was acutely aware of the indentation of his fingers at her waist.
‘This morning.’
‘Oh.’ A stupid sense of disappointment washed over her. He’d been here all day and hadn’t bothered to let her know? She wanted to say, Why didn’t you come and find me? Or, Why didn’t you join me for lunch? But maybe that would have been presumptuous. As if she were laying down terms, or revealing expectations he might stubbornly refuse to meet if he were aware of them. Instead she strove to find just the right, light touch. To sound like the kind of undemanding partner he might wish to spend more time with and not one who was immediately haranguing him with demands. ‘I’ve been with Midas for most of the day.’
‘I know you have.’ There was a pause. ‘I came down to the stables to see you.’
She turned her face upwards, aware of the faintly shadowed jut of his jaw and the sensual curve of his lips. ‘But you didn’t come over and say hello?’