Sienna’s smile was dubious and Frankie understood. How could she ever live up to this country’s expectations of its Queen?
It took hours but when Frankie was at last alone once more she had to admit that the three women had worked some kind of miracle. She stared at herself in the reflection, unable to believe how...regal...she looked. Still dressed in the same clothes as New York, it no longer mattered. Her hair sat like a blonde cloud around her shoulders and she glistened all over.
Exhaustion was a tidal wave coming towards her. She showered in an attempt to stave it off and was just in the process of pulling the same dress back in place when there was a knock at the bathroom door. With a little gasp, she grabbed the dress and simply held it across her front.
‘Don’t come in!’ she cautioned, her heart already racing into overdrive at the very idea that Matthias might stride in and pull her naked, shower-wet body into his arms.
‘Of course not, madam.’ Mathilde’s soft accent came through with a hint of indignation. ‘Only I tell you there are some things in your wardrobe now. Not a lot, but enough to start.’
‘Oh.’ Disappointment fired inside her; how she resented it! ‘Thank you.’
‘You’re welcome, madam.’
Frankie reached for one of the sumptuous robes and wrapped it around herself, luxuriating for a moment in its glamorous softness before moving out of the bathroom. This side of the apartment was empty but still she moved quickly, lest another interruption came to pass and she gave into temptation, pressing her body to Matthias’s and begging him to... She pushed the thought out of her mind determinedly, slipping into the wardrobe.
One side was filled with his clothes. She cast a guilty look towards the door before moving to his clothes and running her hand over them, feeling their fabric, imagining them on his body, remembering the warmth and strength of his physique. A deep need opened up inside her gut—she feared there was only one solution.
When she emerged a few moments later, Matthias was in the kitchen, the living invocation of her fantasies. Awareness jerked inside her, desire heavy, the pulse between her legs running riot at the sight of him like this. It was strange, but it was the first moment it truly hit Frankie that this was their home. That they would live here, side by side. For how long?
Her pulse ratcheted up a notch.
‘You’ve toured the residence?’ he prompted, lifting his head and pinning her with those intelligent grey eyes of his.
‘Yeah.’ It was croaky and faint; she cleared her throat. ‘Yes.’ Balling up her courage, she walked towards him, pleased with herself for at least remembering how to walk calmly. ‘There only seems to be one bedroom spare,’ she murmured.
He looked at her, a smile playing about his lips. ‘Was that a question?’
Damn him! ‘You can’t expect me to...’
‘Share your husband’s bedroom?’
She fidgeted with her fingers, and then stopped when she realised what a betraying gesture it was. ‘Yes.’ She forced her eyes to hold his.
‘Are we back to pretending you don’t feel the same desire I do?’
She opened her mouth and closed it again. How could she deny her desire, after the kiss they’d shared earlier? Surely he’d tasted her response, felt her need.
‘No,’ she said softly, her eyes locked onto his with a defiance that gave her some kind of courage. ‘But feeling something and acting on it are two different concepts.’
His eyes flared, perhaps showing his surprise at her admission. ‘So they are.’ He leaned a little closer and her stomach swirled. ‘You do not need to worry, Frankie. When we sleep together it will be because you beg me to make love to you, not because I cannot control myself while we happen to be sharing a mattress. Bene?’
‘I...’
‘It is just a bed,’ he said, making her feel naïve and childish. ‘And I am away often.’
‘I...’
He lifted a finger, placing it softly against her lips. ‘If you do not adjust to me in your life, then I will have a new room made for you,’ he said, and though the offer should have pleased her, it didn’t. If she’d felt childish before, she felt babyish now—and like a complainer too. ‘Just try it my way.’
It was so reasonable. So measured. ‘I just presumed we’d have separate rooms,’ she explained, forcing a smile to her lips.
He nodded once, his eyes latched to hers. ‘Gossip spreads like wildfire. I don’t need servants talking about our marriage before there’s even been a marriage. Nor do I want it splashed over the tabloids that my convenient wife and heir are all for show.’
‘But we are,’ she said with a tilt of her head, relieved to say the words, to remind herself as much as anything.
‘He is my heir,’ Matthias murmured. ‘And you will be my wife. There is nothing dishonest in that.’
She bit back whatever she’d been about to say, nodding instead. He was right. She’d agreed to this, and she’d known what his terms were. There was no sense demeaning herself by arguing over such a trivial point.