Page 61 of Not Fit for a King?


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“What can I say that I haven’t already said? I’ve apologized again and again, and I meant every word—”

“So say it again.”

A tiny frisson of sensation raced down her back. Something in his voice hinted at danger. Or perhaps it was the expression in his eyes. But suddenly the room felt sexually charged. “I’m sorry.”

“That’s it? That’s your most sincere, heartfelt apology?”

“I gave you my sincere, heartfelt apology two nights ago and you threw it back in my face.”

“So? I want to hear it again. I want to feel your sincerity. I want you to prove your sincerity.”

“How?”

His hot amber gaze raked her from head to toe. “I’m sure you can think of something.”

A shiver raced through her—nerves, anger, as well as anticipation. “You can’t kick me out of your palace and then expect me to invite you into my bed.” “Why not?”

“Because I don’t want to sleep with you,” she retorted fiercely.

“Good, because I can assure you we won’t be sleeping.” “It’s not going to happen. You were horrible. Mean. Cruel.” “Yes, yes, I was all of the above. So how will you pleasure me?”

“I won’t.”

“You will.” He closed the distance between them, stopping in front of the bed, his thighs inches from her knees. He was standing so close that Hannah’s skin prickled and the fine hair at her nape lifted. Unfortunately there was nowhere to run. Not on the third floor with four security guards outside the door.

“And why would I?” she whispered, licking her dry lips.

“Because I remember what you said, the night of the ball. You said you fell hard for me. You fell in love at first sight. Or did you just make that up along with everything else?”

She stared up into his eyes, feeling his tension. He was hanging on to control by a thread, barely mastering his emotions. “No,” she whispered. “I did fall for you, right from the beginning. I knew it was wrong to continue to pretend to be Emmeline but I loved being with you … near you … loved everything about you.”

“You loved being with me.”

She nodded. “More than I’ve ever enjoyed being with anyone.”

He reached down, slipped a hand into her thick hair, his fingers tangling the long golden strands. “Just as I’ve never enjoyed anyone as much as I enjoyed being with you.”

The husky note in his voice and the heat in his eyes made her pulse leap and her body warm. Her skin tingled and her nerves fizzed and she had to remind herself to breathe.

“So what do we do now?” he asked, allowing the long strands of her hair to slip through his fingers.

“You’re not angry with me?”

His hand moved to her neck, and down, caressing the base of her throat to the pulse that beat so erratically there. “I am, but that doesn’t seem to change what I feel for you.”

She shivered at his touch. Her mouth had gone dry. “And what do you feel for me?”

Emotion burned in his eyes, making the rich amber irises glow. “Love.”

Her heart stuttered and stopped. Air bottled in her lungs, she looked up at him in wonder. “You … love … me?”

He dropped his head, his lips brushing hers. “Fool that I am … yes.”

She closed her eyes, heart racing. “Not a fool, Zale, because I love you so very, very much.” “Say it again.”

She opened her eyes, looked up at him, seeing the hunger and hope in his eyes. “I love you, Zale. I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone.”

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

ZALE lay in bed with Hannah in his arms, blinds still open so they could watch the sun set. Moments ago the sky had been a spectacular red and orange but the fiery colors were fading, leaving long lavender shadows to stretch across the plaza. The elegant street lamps at the train station were coming on, shining soft yellow pools of light onto the cobbled street.

They’d been in bed for hours. Had made loved for hours. Their lovemaking warm and tender and bittersweet.

Zale had known since birth he’d have to marry a blue blood, a true princess. He’d known since he was fifteen that princess would be Emmeline.

But in the blink of an eye it had all changed.

He wouldn’t be marrying Emmeline.

The woman he loved was definitely not royal.

Duty required that he walk away from Hannah. Common sense suggested the same, and yet somehow she felt as essential to his life as Tinny. And he’d never walk away from Tinny.

But who would assume the throne if he chose Hannah? Who knew this country well enough to lead?

There were cousins, of course, but none of them even lived in Raguva anymore, choosing instead to make their home in far flung places like Sydney and Paris, London, San Francisco and Buenos Aires. Places that were urban, sophisticated, exciting.

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