Convenient Bride for the King Read online

  ‘Happy. I can see why you had to have it back.’

  ‘Yes, well, unfortunately, the original set was split between several buyers. My grandmother bought the first one back; my mother recovered three more. Augustus found one. I found two more. The last remaining seller knew their tapestry would complete the set and priced accordingly. I paid up and Augustus froze my spending account until June next year.’

  She sounded amused rather than put out. ‘Quite a good time for me to consider marriage, all things considered. I will have a spending account as your Queen, right?’

  ‘Yes, but you’ll have to answer for it.’

  ‘I always do.’ She crossed the room to look out of his window. ‘You keep horses here.’

  ‘We breed horses here. Warhorses for Liesendaach’s mounted guard regiment.’

  Moriana hummed her approval. ‘Very nice.’

  She was biting back a smile and he crossed to her side and looked out. His stable master was supervising the unloading of horses from a livestock transport truck into the courtyard below. Three big greys and a tiny black Shetland stallion were being introduced to several stable hands.

  ‘Is there anything here that’s not pretty?’ she asked, and he remembered an overheard conversation about stable boys and lustful thoughts.

  ‘You’d best be looking at my horses, Princess, and not my stable hands. And I suggest you avoid entirely the company of royal horsemen stationed here.’

  Moriana’s smile turned positively beatific. ‘You have a company of royal horsemen stationed here? How did I not know this? I need to tell Augustus.’

  She wanted to torture Augustus with visions of her sleeping her way through Liesendaach’s mounted regiment, most likely. The problem was, Theo couldn’t admit to overhearing that conversation between her and her brother because then all hell would break loose. He didn’t want all hell to break loose right now. He wanted to relax and regain some small sense of control and maybe, just maybe, get her to look at him the way she’d looked at him last night and then again this morning.

  ‘Have you ever just wanted a day to be over?’ he asked.

  ‘You mean how I felt most of yesterday and the day before?’

  ‘Point.’

  ‘Are you thinking about your uncle?’

  ‘And Benedict. And you. And the future and what to make of it.’ And trust and how to build it with this woman.

  ‘No wonder you need a drink. Weighty topics all.’

  And connected all, for together they did—or would—make up his family unit.

  Moriana turned, her back to the window now, as she stood before him. At least her attention was no longer being diverted by his horsemen. ‘Of course you don’t have mindless sexual conquests to distract yourself with any more. What a shame.’

  ‘Moriana, I’m going to strangle you soon,’ he warned.

  A mischievous smile lit her face. ‘Are you ready to teach lesson two? I’m ready for lesson two.’

  ‘Breath play? I doubt it.’

  She blinked.

  He smiled. ‘Was that not what you meant?’

  ‘I...er...no. Definitely not what I meant. Baby steps, Theo. It’s only lesson two.’

  ‘A lesson that isn’t scheduled until tomorrow.’

  She sighed. ‘Guess I’ll have to keep looking at all the pretty horses...and their handlers.’

  On the other hand, it wasn’t as if he had anything better to do. He could use a little distraction. And there was something to be said for physical release as a means of easing tension.

  ‘Would you like to keep looking at my stable hands?’ he murmured. ‘Because hands on the windowsill if you would.’

  ‘Oh, no. No.’ She quickly put distance between her and the window, before turning to keep him in sight. ‘I know what “hands on flat surfaces” involves. We covered that lesson this morning, and we are not doing it again in front of a window with your men looking on. That’s lesson eight hundred and sixty-five thousand. Not to mention a very bad idea.’

  ‘Or you could sit on the bed.’

  One moment she was railing at him, eyes wide. The next minute she was perched on the end of his bed, arms crossed in front of her.

  ‘I have a request,’ she said.

  He expected nothing less.

  ‘I’d like you naked this time,’ she said.

  ‘As you wish.’ Theo smiled, the focus firmly back on him as he stalked towards the bed. ‘Perhaps you could undress me.’

  Moriana tucked her hands a little higher beneath her arms. ‘I didn’t expect these lessons to require quite so much initiation on my part.’

  ‘Live and learn. You could start with my buttons if my belt’s too intimidating.’

  ‘I refuse to be intimidated. I can do this. I want to do this.’

  ‘That’s the spirit.’

  She started with his belt buckle, her touch deft and light. By the time she had his fly undone he was hard beneath the brush of her hands and he was the one unbuttoning his shirt, because bravery should be rewarded.

  She leaned in and closed her eyes and set her cheek to the skin just above the low ride of his underwear, and when she turned her head the better to taste skin he clenched his hands into fists instead of sliding them through her hair and guiding her actions. If the last lesson had been about Moriana surrendering control of her body to him, he wanted this lesson to be about her taking control and keeping it, exploring it. And for that he had to ease off on his.

  He shouldered his shirt to the floor and she looked up as if he was offering the finest of feasts after a lifetime of starvation. He wished she had more experience but he wasn’t ever going to let her get it from anyone else. She’d had her chances and hadn’t taken them.

  She took her time when it came to getting his trousers off. He took his time laying her on the bed and stretching out beside her. She liked looking at him, when he wasn’t distracting her with kisses, deep and drugging. She liked touching him and he encouraged it.

  ‘What’s the lesson?’ she asked again, so he named one.

  ‘Rubbing,’ he whispered. ‘Rocking.’ Until they drove each other mad. ‘No penetration.’ He hadn’t done this since his teens. ‘Easy.’

  He wrapped his arm around her waist and hauled her on top of him, knees to either side of his hips, and if that wasn’t giving her full control he didn’t know what would.

  ‘Should I take my clothes off?’

  ‘Your call.’ Her dress was soft and her panties felt like silk against his erection. Hot wet silk.

  The panties came off and her dress stayed on as she positioned herself over him again, and slowly settled against him.

  ‘I like feeling you against me,’ she murmured against his lips and he closed his eyes and tried to think of anything but the feel of warm wet womanhood against him. Slowly she began to rock against him, her hands either side of his head. ‘Like this?’

  ‘Yes.’ Sliding his hands beneath her dress, up and over the globes of her buttocks, the better to position her for maximum drag over sensitive areas.

  She was slick enough for both of them and for the most part he let her find her way, only sliding his hand around to rest his thumb against her once or twice to begin with until she arched up to a sitting position, grabbed his hand by the wrist and held it there.

  She closed her eyes and her trembling increased as he used every trick he’d ever learned to make it good for her.

  ‘Do you close your eyes the better to imagine someone else?’ he grated, because he could be cruel and tender in equal measure and because she’d said the same to him.

  ‘Put it in,’ she whimpered. ‘Theo, please. Fill me. Put it in.’

  ‘Not until we’re married.’

  ‘Since when has this been one of your conditions for bedding a woman?’ Disbelief coloured her voice but her body still moved and so did his.

  ‘Since you.’ He rolled her over and wrapped her legs around him and added his weight and a sinuous roll to the negot
iations; it had been years since he’d been this close to coming with such minor stimulation, but this was Moriana and her abandon had always fuelled his. ‘I will put my mouth on you and my hands, do this all day long, take you to the edge and make you wait, but you only get me in you when you’re mine.’ Which begged the question... How long did it really take to arrange a royal wedding? Because the restraint was killing him.

  ‘I hate you.’ But her hands were in his hair and she was drawing his head down into a kiss so hot and desperate that the groan he heard was his.

  ‘You want me.’

  ‘Yes,’ she sobbed. ‘Theo, I’m—’

  Coming, and so was he, all over her stomach, messing her up, painting her his.

  She was too responsive. ‘You came again, I don’t care what you say. I win.’

  She laughed a little helplessly.

  ‘You know, simultaneous satisfaction is quite a feat. Very rare.’

  ‘Is it? I wouldn’t know.’

  ‘It’s rare.’

  She studied his face, her eyes searching and solemn. ‘You’re still courting me.’

  ‘Yes, and I fully intend to win you. How much plainer do I have to make it?’

  ‘I have a temper,’ she said next.

  ‘Pent-up passion has to go somewhere.’

  ‘I have high standards. I’m hard on myself and on others. I’ll be hard on you if you fail me.’

  ‘I’d expect nothing less. If I think you’re being too hard on either yourself or others I’ll call you on it. We’ll argue and your passion will go somewhere.’

  ‘I can be a workaholic.’

  ‘Liesendaach needs a lot of work.’

  ‘You’re not the slightest bit self-conscious about lying here naked, are you?’

  ‘Should I be?’

  She sighed and shook her head. ‘No. Your body is flawless.’ She dropped her gaze below his waist. ‘And very well proportioned. I never realised that shamelessness could be quite so enticing.’

  He was comfortable in his skin. She, on the other hand, still had her dress on. ‘I would see you comfortable in your skin before we’re through,’ he told her. ‘Especially in private.’

  ‘More lessons.’ The curve of her lips was captivating and always had been.

  ‘Yes, many more lessons, starting now. Take your dress off.’

  ‘But...aren’t we done for now?’

  ‘I promised to keep you strung out on the edge of release for hours,’ he reminded her silkily. ‘I need to keep my word.’ She had a very sensitive neck. It responded well to lips and tongue and the faintest graze of his teeth.

  ‘I think you’re overestimating my resistance to your touch,’ she murmured as she arched beneath him.

  Twenty minutes later and after two orgasms, ripped from her body in rapid succession, Princess Moriana of Arun told him to stop.

  ‘Have I persuaded you to marry me yet?’

  ‘Not yet,’ she murmured with a thoroughly satisfied smile. ‘But full points for trying.’

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  MORIANA CRACKED ONE eye open to the sound of cutlery landing on a table. She was in Theo’s room, in Theo’s bed, wholly naked, but the man himself wasn’t there. Instead, a chambermaid was busy setting a dinner table in the room next door. Moriana could see bits of her every now and again through the half-closed door and the reflection on the window. It was dark outside and dark in the room she’d been sleeping in. The adjoining room looked as if it was lit by candlelight.

  Perhaps it was.

  She’d been schooled, she remembered that much. She remembered Theo playing her body the way a master violinist played a foreign instrument. Paying attention, learning what worked and what didn’t, down to the tiniest detail, and adjusting his attentions accordingly. He’d played her to perfection. He’d known what she wanted before she did and kept her waiting.

  He still hadn’t bedded her fully.

  And now she was in a strange room with no clothes to wear other than stained ones, and no idea what to do next. The maid finished her preparations and slipped from view and Moriana took the opportunity to escape into the bathroom. A shower later, she entered his dressing room and took one of his shirts from its hanger and put it on. It was of the softest cotton and fell to the tops of her thighs. She found her panties and put them on too.

  She tried not to think about what she looked like but there were mirrors on three walls and in the end it was inevitable that she would meet her reflection. Make-up gone and hair untended, she barely recognised herself. In her eyes was an awareness of pleasure. On her skin were faint marks left by the press of strong hands and a hot, sucking mouth. Theo hadn’t treated her like a princess. He’d treated her like a woman fully capable of pleasing herself and, in doing so, pleasing him.

  She took a blue two-tone tie from his collection and used it as a hairband, and now she looked all carefree and confident.

  Looked, not felt. Because she’d never felt quite so laden with doubt.

  She’d only ever repressed the more passionate side of her nature and here she was feeding it, and Theo was nothing if not encouraging. With him at her side she was slowly eroding the self-control she’d fought for all her life—the control her family valued above all else.

  ‘You’re screwed,’ she told the woman in the mirror, and then turned her back on her and there stood Theo. Watching. The hawk in the granary.

  ‘Not yet,’ he said, and straightened as she approached. ‘What is it you think I can’t give you?’ His eyes were sharp, more grey than blue in this light.

  ‘There doesn’t appear to be anything you can’t deliver.’

  He was still watching her so she sent him a smile to back up her words.

  ‘Don’t do that,’ he said.

  ‘Do what?’

  ‘Retreat behind your mask of cool politeness. It doesn’t work when you’re wearing nothing but my shirt.’ His gaze slid to her face. ‘And my favourite tie.’

  ‘Is it really your favourite tie?’

  ‘It is now.’ She needed to get used to Theo’s lazy compliments and the intensity of his gaze. ‘Dinner’s ready. It’s the romance portion of the evening. I added candles.’

  He turned away and she followed him into the adjoining room. ‘So I see.’ The room was bathed in soft light and shadows and the table was set for two. A nearby balcony door stood open and she could smell the scent of the forest and feel the lingering heat of the day in the air.

  ‘I love it here.’ It wasn’t like the palace she’d grown up in, heavy on grey stone and small, defensible windows. This palace had been built for openness and sensual delight and showing off its beauty. It made her feel wide open to possibilities in a way that her home palace never had.

  Or maybe it was the man currently pulling her dining chair out for her who was doing that.

  His loose weave shirt was a dove-grey colour and unstarched. His trousers were khakis and he hadn’t got around to putting on shoes.

  * * *

  ‘I got your meal preferences from the Lady Aury and took the liberty of sending them to my kitchen staff,’ he said. ‘We have our own regional specialities, of course, and tonight I thought we could try a mix of both your preferences and mine. See how well they mesh. The serving staff will come to the door. We can take it from there.’

  A soft ping of a bell prevented her from answering. Theo went to the door and came back with a trolley laden with dome-covered dishes. There were scallops, fish stew or soup of some sort, duck salad with a pomegranate dressing—one of her favourites—and there was Mediterranean salad, heavy on the olives—which was perhaps a favourite of his. There was baked bread and lots of it.

  ‘Fish stew and sourdough. Messy but worth it,’ he said.

  She took the bowl of stew he handed her and passed him the bread basket in return. ‘Do you dine in here often?’ she asked.

  ‘More often than I should,’ he answered. ‘There’s a family dining room, of course. It hasn’t been used for ye
ars. Not since my uncle’s rule.’

  ‘Where did your family dine? You know—before.’

  Before the helicopter crash that had cost them their lives. ‘My mother used to enjoy dining on the west terrace on warm summer nights. In winter there was a modest dining room with a large fireplace that we used a lot. I don’t use either any more. Too many ghosts and there are so many other rooms to choose from.’

  ‘Do you ever get lonely here?’

  ‘There are people everywhere,’ he said by way of an answer and, yes, they were his people but they weren’t family or loved ones; they were employees. He’d lost two families, she realised. One in a terrible accident and the other when he’d taken the throne and stripped his uncle of power. No wonder he kept to himself and found it hard to contemplate having loved ones he could rely on.

  ‘I took your advice. Benedict and my uncle will be arriving tomorrow or the next day, depending on my uncle’s condition,’ he said. ‘It may not be fun. I’m considering sending you home until it’s done.’

  Moriana put her fork down and her hands in her lap. Hands were revealing. And she was suddenly nervous. The food she’d been enjoying suddenly sat heavy in her stomach. She didn’t have the right clothes on for a farewell speech. More to the point, she’d only just got here and didn’t want to go. They’d been making progress, of a sort. Working each other out, learning each other’s strengths and weaknesses, and she wanted that to continue because it was challenging and fun and the sex was flat-out fantastic, and did he really expect her to get a taste of that and then just leave? Because that was inhumane.

  ‘Of course.’ She couldn’t look at him.

  And then she did look at him, and it wasn’t just lust she felt. She also had the strong desire to comfort him and be with him so he didn’t have to go through this alone. ‘Unless, of course, you think I might be of use to you here. I could stay if you thought that. I’ve been through the death of a family member before. I know how it goes and what to do. Of course, so do you.’

  ‘I’m trying to spare you, not push you away.’ His voice was soft and deep and utterly compelling. ‘Would you rather stay?’

  ‘If you—’