Apparently even the housekeeper could read the situation and understand that the new king consort wouldn’t be helping her to undress. For a moment Poppy felt intensely self-conscious. Exposed. She pushed it down. She had nothing to feel exposed about. She was doing the right thing. Giving her child legitimacy and a chance to know its father. As reluctant as he was. And at least for now, he was doing his part. The bare minimum, it had to be said. But it was better than nothing.
After the chateau’smistressera, the master bedroom suite in the tower had been reconfigured into two interconnecting bedrooms with separate bathrooms and dressing rooms. As if things had to swing in a much more puritanical way to compensate for the licentiousness of her adulterous ancestor.
So now, at least, it meant that she and Caius could keep their distance. Poppy overheard Caius asking Stephen to show him to the office to check up on some work. Then he turned to her and must have seen the slightly dumbfounded expression on her face because he asked, ‘What? I don’t think a consummation of this marriage is necessary.’
Poppy’s face flamed. Had she imagined him asking her if she wanted to pick up where they’d left off in his office in New York? It would seem so. Obviously that had just been a well-worn reflex.
‘I know it’s not necessary, believe me.’
He looked at her and then said, ‘Ah, you didn’t expect me to want to work, is that it? You thought I’d be calling for a helicopter to take me to the nearest nightclub?’
Now Poppy felt like squirming. ‘No, not exactly. I know you won’t leave the island.’
‘God forbid.’ He sounded so bitter that it caught Poppy in that vulnerable place and she couldn’t help asking, ‘Is it really that bad? You being married? Becoming a king? Even when it was what you’d prepared for your whole life?’
All the staff had melted away and it was just them in the reception hall. A pregnant bride and her very unwilling groom who had the audacity to look not weary at all, but vital and far too gorgeous for Poppy’s oversensitive hormones.
Caius dragged a hand through his hair, leaving it messy and even sexier. Poppy wanted to scowl.
Eventually he said, ‘Look, I know that this wasn’t your plan either. However it would still have been your path with someone else, if not me. But I’d been released from that obligation. As much as I didn’t appreciate the circus around finding out I wasn’t the king’s son, I was free, for a moment, and only someone like you can appreciate what that means. I also liked the fact that I no longer had the responsibility of having a child for one purpose only, to serve. I won’t ever regret my background, it was incredibly privileged, but it was never a choice.’
The problem was that Poppy could understand very well what Caius was saying, and empathise. And only for the fact that she hadn’t had a brother to inherit the crown, she could have tasted that freedom too.
She put her hand on her belly. ‘We can’t change our pasts. I know the circumstances weren’t ideal but I want this child, and I will love him, or her. They will never be made to feel like they’ve been born for one purpose, or that they have no choice. I know you feel like you’re not here by choice, but you did choose to sacrifice your freedom for this child. You did the right thing.’
A short while later, on the balcony just beyond the French doors of the book-lined room where Poppy’s staff had set up a working office for him, Caius looked into the inky darkness broodingly. At first he would have denied Poppy’s words that he’d had a choice in anything to do with this situation, but she was right.
He could have turned his back on her and denied any involvement until the baby was born and had paternity proved. But he also knew he couldn’t have. Because no matter what kind of a devil-may-care persona he’d cultivated, he’d never really erred too far from what was acceptable.
He wasn’t a monster. He wouldn’t have put Poppy in that position under intense public scrutiny and judgement.
He’d been a playboy, yes. But he’d never lost control of his senses. Never done drugs. And as for women, he’d slept with his fair share, no denying that, but about one per cent of the actual number the tabloids would have people believe, and he’d never ever let a woman think that there was anything more to it than sex.
If they’d cried foul, and many had, it had only been to try and extort something out of Caius.
And, perhaps even more crucially, Caius had believed Poppy about the baby.
When he thought about that night in Paris with the benefit of hindsight, the signs had been there that she’d been a virgin. He’d just been too hot for her to notice them. But she’d been shy. A little awkward.And tight.His body responded now to that memory and how the strength of her orgasm had made him see stars.
He’d always found sex enjoyable but not…so mind-bendingly explosive that he’d passed out.It had been because she was a virgin,assured a little voice. But Caius wasn’t so sure. Because he still wanted her. He wanted to know if it would be the same again. More intense? Most likely less.
One thing he was sure of was that if he had Poppy again, her appeal would soon fade. It always did.
She might be trying to fool him or even herself that she didn’t want him, but he felt the hum of electricity between them. Felt the crackle if they got too close. She’d been melting against him when they’d danced earlier and they’d both lost track of where they were.
He’d always known not to expect towanthis royal wife. And yet here he was, aching for his very royal and very unexpected wife.
At that moment a light came on above Caius’s head and up to his right-hand side where the bedrooms were situated in the tower. He looked up and held his breath when he saw Poppy step out onto a terrace that ran around that part of the building.
Her hair was down in loose waves and she was changed out of the wedding dress and into what looked like a silk strappy vest top and matching shorts. Shorts with slits in the sides, showing off her toned thighs. Thighs he could remember gripping his hips tight. The memory of her breathless entreaties filled his head.More, harder…please.
She ran her hands through her hair, obviously massaging her skull, and the dark auburn glinted in the soft golden light coming from the room behind her.
The breeze pressed her top against her breasts, outlining their full shape, and then it lifted, exposing her belly and the gentle firm swell. Without his even realising what he was doing, Caius’s hands had gone to the wall and he was holding on tight because the world felt as if it were spinning a little.
She put her hands on her belly, either side, and was looking down, an expression of absorption on her face. Something pierced the tide of hot desire engulfing Caius. It took him a second to realise it was envy, that he wasn’t the one inspiring that level of absorption.
Jealous of his own unborn child? Caius ducked back into the office again quickly before Poppy might catch him ogling her like a lusty teenager. He saw a drinks cabinet in the corner of the room and went over, pouring himself a measure of whiskey, throwing it back, hoping that it might help eclipse the raging need inside him.
