he said, and he might as well have said I do, there was such gravitas.
Her eyes widened. Just like that, she had his promise.
She didn’t know where to take it from here.
He was watching her, concerned now by her silence. ‘You don’t believe me?’
‘It’s just… you’re a royal prince, you could have anyone. I didn’t think you’d want to be… ’
‘Monogamous?’
‘That’s the one.’ She was practically stuttering. She felt as if she was tying herself in knots. ‘What makes you different?’
‘I wouldn’t mind seeing if it works,’ he said, so softly she thought at first she’d got it wrong. But the way he was looking at her said she had it exactly right.
I wouldn’t mind seeing if it works… That was an implication that he wanted something more than a marriage of convenience.
Don’t go there, she thought. She wasn’t ready. She wanted her freedom. Or she thought she did. Alex was… fabulous. But to be sucked into the royal goldfish bowl for ever…
Think about that later, she told herself. Later was truly scary. Think about here. Think about now.
Right here, right now, her prince was promising to be faithful. To her. While they were married.
Starting now?
‘You’re beautiful, Lily,’ he said softly. ‘You’ve had such a tough time… ’
‘See, that’s just what I don’t want you to think,’ she snapped, confusion fading. ‘That’s what I suddenly realised. Last time you took me to bed… did you do it because you felt sorry for me?’
‘Of course I didn’t.’
‘Then that’s what I’d like to revert to. I remember lying beside you and thinking it was magic. Thinking your body was scrumptious.’
‘Scrumptious,’ he said blankly and then he grinned. ‘I believe that’s what I thought about your body as well,’ he said and the laughter had slammed back.
Shared laughter… That was what had attracted her to him in the first place. A whole lot of other sensations had fallen into line behind that initial attraction—a body to die for, sensations like tenderness, passion and wonder. But laughter had come first and it was laughter that was a refuge here. If they could laugh… Scary emotions could be left for later.
She could be free later on. She could be free when she had to be free. For now… Maybe this was dumb, but his sympathy, his concern, had seemed to unlock something inside her that had never been touched. From swearing she wanted to keep her life for herself and for her son, suddenly she was thinking what if… what if…
‘So you’re promising to keep yourself only unto me all the time we’re married,’ she ventured.
‘I am.’ Flat. Definite. Absolute.
‘So… ’ She swallowed. ‘If we’re to be faithful… ’
‘Mmm.’
‘And if we’re to be… chaste… as well, then we might have a very monastic type of year in front of us.’
‘I’d make a very bad monk,’ he said promptly, laughter returning. He seemed to be willing to go where she was leading. More than willing. ‘I don’t think a tonsure would suit me.’
She looked up at his thick black curls. She tried to imagine what he’d look like with a neat ring of hair and a bald crown.
She chuckled.
‘Not a sexy look,’ he said, smiling his agreement, and she smiled back at him. And wham! Here they came again. Hormones and hormones and more hormones.
But there were things to be said—things that must be said if those hormones were allowed to hold sway.
‘If… if we were to sleep together we’d need to take a lot more precautions than last time,’ she managed, trying not to sound as breathless as she felt.
‘I’ve changed my brand of condom.’
She blinked. He was smiling. He was with her and beyond.
Two could play at that game. ‘I’ve taken precautions, too,’ she said, and watched his eyes crease into surprise and appreciation—and then darken to something more.
‘You’ve taken precautions,’ he said softly.
‘That’s what I said.’
‘You’ve taken precautions already?’
‘Seeing as I was getting married. Seeing as I didn’t trust myself.’ Seeing also as she hadn’t trusted him not to demand his conjugal rights. She’d never dreamed the advance could come from her.
‘I see.’ His hands took hers, gripping warmly, strongly, surely, and the laughter was back again. Laughter and something deeper. ‘So let me get this right. You’re in my house on your wedding night—our wedding night—you look so lovely I can’t believe it and you tell me you came prepared.’
‘That’s not necessarily an invitation,’ she managed, but of course it was. And he was playing her game.
‘It’d be a prince without chivalry who thought it was,’ he said and he tugged her closer. ‘But if it was a prince who was to issue the invitation… ’
‘What… what sort of invitation?’ she managed.
‘A very proper invitation,’ he whispered. His mouth was against her hair. She could feel his breath. It was unbelievably erotic. Unbelievably sexy. ‘Something like: His Majesty, Prince Alexandros Kostantinos Mykonis, Crown Prince of Sappheiros, requests the pleasure of the company of Her Majesty, Princess Lily Mykonis… ’
‘Princess… ’ It was practically a squeak. She swallowed. ‘Um… princess?’
‘That’s what you are as my wife,’ he said into her hair. ‘Whereas Mia is now Queen of nowhere, as the Kingdom of Diamas no longer exists. She’s about to get a very legal letter telling her she has no further right to use the title.’
She gazed at Alex—at her husband—in awe. Thinking of Mia’s reaction.
‘I think you’re wonderful,’ she said before she could help herself, and the world stood still.
His eyes darkened once more. She saw passion flare and burn. ‘So this invitation I’m thinking of issuing… ’ he murmured.
‘When?’ she asked, still breathless, but no longer worrying about an irrelevant thing like breathing.
‘I’m getting to that,’ he said reprovingly. ‘Patience, my love. Official invites take time. I need to melt the wax for the seal… Oh, I’ll have to find some wax. You don’t happen to have a candle about you?’
‘I don’t believe I do. And I certainly don’t have time to search for one.’
‘You don’t?’
‘Not the way I’m feeling.’
‘So… ’ His hold tightened. ‘If I were to send this invitation without an official seal… If I were to request an RSVP by return post… ’
‘You might get it faster than you expected.’
‘Really?’
‘Really,’ she whispered. ‘Right about… now.’
‘Now?’ His hands were in the small of her back, tugging her closer, closer. ‘Now, my love?’
‘Maybe,’ she whispered.
‘And what might this RSVP say?’
‘Ooh,’ she whispered.