hers.
“Max,” she whispered, touching her lips, feeling for herself that they really were swollen and hot from the press of his mouth against them.
His mouth curved into a slow smile. “Max. I like that.”
The fog of desire was starting to clear and awareness was creeping into the fuzzy edges of her mind, shame mingling with her slowly ebbing arousal.
He placed his hand over her stomach again, his expression intense. “This is my baby that you carry, Alison. Our baby. I could not feel it more if you had conceived in my bed.” His accent was thicker than she’d ever heard it, his voice a husky rasp that made her nipples tighten and her pulse pound. “The attraction between us is very convenient.”
“Convenient?” Her tongue felt thick and clumsy, her mind still clouded by passion.
“Of course. How could it not be convenient for me to feel desire for my future wife?”
“YOUR future wife?” Her head was still fuzzy from the kiss, her limbs heavy with arousal, and she was certain she must have heard him wrong.
“Yes. I have thought it through and it is the only thing to be done.” He said it so pragmatically, as though anyone should be able to see his point.
“I’m not going to marry you,” she said, trying to match his tone. If he wanted to try to have an insane discussion as calmly as if they were talking about the weather then she was more than up to the challenge. She certainly wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of rattling her self-control more than once in a five-minute time span.
“Alison, I credit you with a very high level of intelligence, and given your career choice it’s obvious to me that you’re not only very smart, but very compassionate. With those two qualities I can’t imagine that you have not arrived at the same conclusion as me.”
“I fail to see how intelligence and compassion would lead me to conclude that you and I should get married.” But darn if it didn’t make her heart thunder harder in her chest. The thought of being married to a man like Maximo made her stomach turn over, and not in an unpleasant way.
“Logic would tell you that we won’t be able to share custody as well as we might if you are living in the U.S. and I’m living here. Also, there would be the added stigma of my child being illegitimate. An illegitimate child will not be eligible to assume the throne, neither will they be able to claim the bulk of their inheritance. Compassion would prevent you from allowing that to happen to our son or daughter.”
She shook her head. “That’s your version of logic, but that can’t possibly be the best thing for our child. We don’t even know each other. How could it be good for them to grow up in a home where their mother and father are essentially strangers?”
“But we would not be strangers,” he said, supremely confident. “We share some pretty combustible passion. I think we would become acquainted very quickly.”
“I don’t even know you. You expect that I would just sleep with you?”
He shrugged. “It is not unheard of for strangers to sleep together. And anyway, if we were married it would only be natural.”
For him it might be natural to just sleep with a woman because he wanted her. For her there was nothing natural about it. Nothing natural at all about the idea of getting naked with him, of letting him touch her everywhere, see her totally uncovered. Her whole body tensed at the thought.
She tightened her lips and forced her expression to remain neutral. “Sorry, I’m not in the market. If you remember from previous conversations I’m not interested in snagging myself a husband.”
“Yes, that was your original plan. But things have changed.”
“Nothing has changed. Not really. My goals haven’t changed.”
His jaw tensed. “But the reality has changed. Believe me, marriage was not on my ‘to do’ list, either. I’ve been married. I don’t believe I have the ability to fall in love again. No woman will ever replace my wife.”
“Don’t break your no-marriage vow on my account.”
He cupped her chin and tilted her face up. “I wouldn’t be breaking it on your account. This is for our child. I thought you would be able to see that, and that it would matter to you.”
“Don’t for one moment imply that the baby’s happiness doesn’t matter to me!”
“Then do not act like it. It’s selfishness, Alison, pure and simple, for you to refuse to marry me.” His dark eyes glittered with dangerous heat and an answering spark ignited in her belly, anger and desire acting as accelerants.
“And it’s plain bullheadedness for you to think that you have the only answer!”
“So passionate,” he said, his voice low and husky. He slid his hand up so that he could put his palm on her cheek, the slight roughness of his skin creating delicious friction. “It’s a shame you choose to express it this way.”
“How would you have me express it?” she snapped.
“In my bed,” he said, each word succinct.
“That’s about as likely as me taking a trip down the aisle,” she returned.
A wicked, dangerous, smile curved his lips. “That, cara, sounds very much like a challenge, and I’m the wrong man to issue a challenge to.”
“Sounds like you’re issuing a challenge of your own, Maximo. And believe me, you might be bullheaded, but I’m not exactly a shrinking violet.”
“I believe it. That is why I find you so intriguing. You are a woman who knows her own mind.”
“That’s right,” she bit out, “and my mind says that marrying you would be a very stupid thing to do.”
“It is the only logical thing,” he said. “I trust you will come to the same conclusion.”
He turned and continued walking down the corridor, acting as though the conversation hadn’t happened. She followed, if only because she didn’t relish getting lost in the labyrinthine hallways of the palace, especially since she had no soda crackers at her disposal and she was beginning to feel nauseous again. If not for that, she might have taken her chances.
Maximo didn’t say another word as he walked and she was more than happy to maintain that status quo. Instead of talking, she played the conversation over in her mind. Was he right? Was marriage the only option?
In the U.S. she hadn’t considered being a single mother an issue. But this was a different country, and not only that, her baby was royalty.
A wave of sadness washed over her. It wasn’t what she wanted for her child. She had dreams of sitting at a small kitchen table, eating family dinners, coloring, finger painting. Never had she imagined pomp and circumstance and palaces. If she were to marry Maximo their child would be next in line to the throne. And if she didn’t, he or she would be off the hook. She honestly wasn’t certain which scenario was best. She’d had dreams of a normal childhood for her son or daughter, but what would they want? Would they hate her for denying them not only an intact family, but a place in history? It was too much to even take in.
The only thing she was remotely certain of was that she wanted the very best for her baby. If only she could figure out what that was.
“This is your room.” Maximo opened one of the doors and gestured for her to go inside.
She looked back down the endless hallway and cursed the fact that she hadn’t been counting doors on her way down. She was never going to find her way back.
“Don’t worry, I’ll escort you back later,” he said, amusement lacing his