Her parents and her brother were lying dead in the family crypt. They’d never be warm again and neither should she be. She wouldn’t succumb to this, or to a man who made a career of temptation. And like everyone else, he mistrusted her. If he didn’t, he would have told her everything when he’d had his chance.
She whipped around, chewing at the inside of her mouth to stop her lips trembling. Pointing to the door between their rooms. ‘Out!’
Rafe stood there unmoving. Dressed in a perfectly pressed business shirt and trousers. Black hair raked back. Dark, brooding features. Looking for all the world like the King he’d become by their marriage. Yet what she hated most, more than seeing the man she’d married looking as if this were the role he was born to, was the tenderness in his eyes. They promised things she could never accept.
‘You’re crying. Let me—’
‘No.’ No one should see her weakness. Certainly not him.
‘Lise. I keep telling you, you’re not alone.’ That deep, low voice was a soft burr against her skin. She ignored it. In truth, shewasalone. Sara wasn’t responding to her texts and Rafe...her emotions were too tangled to know how to deal with him. Instead, she raised her head high. Another tear escaped, sliding down her cheek. She scrubbed it away.
‘I asked you to leave. Will none of my subjects actually obey me?’
Rafe held up his hands in mock surrender. ‘I’ve never been known for my obedience.’
It had been the one flaw in her plan for this marriage. A belief he’d listen to and accept what she’d demanded. An error of judgement born of desperation to carry out her father’s final wishes and assuage her guilt.
‘I wish I’d married someone who was.’
He crossed his arms. His biceps bunched under the fabric in an all too tantalising way. Reminding her of what he’d looked like with his shirt off this morning. His arms, beautifully defined. His chest, the smattering of hair coalescing in a dark line bisecting the ridges of his abdomen and disappearing below the towel. Wrapped around those narrow hips. Water sparkling on his skin like diamonds. She dragged her eyes from the belt around the waist of his trousers. Tried to look at his face instead.
‘You’d better get used to it,’ he said. ‘I’m with you until death. It’s a promise I intend to keep.’
She glared at him. That reminder etched for ever into the inside of her wedding band. ‘I’m the Queen, I’m sure I can arrange an execution if I put my mind to it.’
‘Happily for me, capital punishment was abolished by the constitutional amendment of—’
She threw up her hands. ‘Don’t talk to me about my own constitution! What good is being Queen if you can’t take the head of someone who’s annoying you?’ His beautiful lips curved into a sensual smile. It peeved her that he wasn’t in the slightest bit concerned about her threats, hollow though they were. ‘Why aren’t you more afraid of me?’
‘I’ve told you before, you’re magnificent when you’re being magisterial.’ His eyes were dark and sultry in his handsome face. He began to stroll towards her. ‘Irresistible, in fact.’
She moved, placing an armchair between her and him, but that didn’t seem to offer protection. His steps were languid, almost careless, but that heated gaze of his was fixed on her.
‘Lance will be here soon,’ she said. Rafe stepped around some furniture and her stomach flipped as if it were filled with a flock of swallows that roosted in the palace ramparts. Every part of her skin too tight in her clothes. She scratched at the high neck of her dress. Her body melting and softening as he bore down on her.
Rafe checked his watch. ‘He can wait.’
Worst of it all, she still wanted him. Craved the man who was edging closer, backing her into a corner from which she didn’t want to escape. She glanced at her bed. So tempting for him to tumble her on it, thrust his hands into her hair, hold her tight and kiss her again. Let him bury himself in her and subdue her fears with cries of pleasure. But she’d made a promise to herself. She was worth nothing if she couldn’t uphold it.
‘I—I’ll have you locked in...in the dungeons.’
His smile was pure predator. Oh, how she wanted to succumb. Let herself be devoured. He was in front of the chair now, a single step around it and he’d be right there. He raised an arrogant eyebrow. One touch and she wasn’t sure she’d say no to him.
‘I don’t believe the palace has any,’ Rafe said with a smile.
On a delicate table next to her bed sat the internal palace phone. She nodded towards it. ‘All I need to do is to press the duress button. You’ll find out about the dungeons soon after.’
‘If that’s what you need to protect you from yourself.’ Rafe gave a deep, mocking kind of laugh. ‘You’re afraid of your feelings. And with me, there’s nowhere for you to hide.’
She stopped her retreat. Firmed her spine and stood tall in the face of his taunts.
‘There arenofeelings where you’re concerned.’
A muscle in the side of his jaw twitched as he took another step towards her, close enough now to touch. ‘Prove it.’ His voice was smooth and hard. Silk over steel. ‘Kiss me, then make that claim again.’
Recollections of theironlykiss burst into her consciousness like a firework. Heat crackled over her, but she wouldn’t back down, not whilst he stood there and mocked her. She closed the gap between them. Cupped her hands to the warm skin of his jaw and pulled him down to her. His lips parted, his breath hot as he brushed his lips against hers and the thrill of that soft touch rushed to her core. Their mouths fused as he slid his arms round her and dragged her body against his, no space between them as he angled his head and their tongues touched. Twined together.
She speared her fingers into his hair and gripped, whether to pull him down closer or push him away, she wasn’t sure. It was as if her world exploded in a conflagration of need and panting breaths that caused her heart to race and turned her core molten. This was more than a kiss; it was a battle of desire and erotic promise. She trembled as he pressed her to him, the evidence of his arousal bold and impossible to miss.