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The guard bared his teeth at her, but his eyes were a warm, smoky gray. “Serena was sly, I’ll grant you that. But I will never lose anyone on my watch again. Cost me a promotion, you know.”

She laughed. “I hardly think so. I’ve heard of your recent success.” Belatedly she realized Rafe was glaring at the stranger who still had a muscled arm familiarly about her shoulders. “Rafe, this is Lance Grayson—newly appointed head of the Investigative Division of the Royal Security Detail of Wynborough. Recently he had the misfortune to be assigned as my sister Serena’s bodyguard.” She slipped from beneath Lance’s arm and stepped a pace away, aware of the aura of leashed aggression flowing from Rafe. “Lance, may I present the prince of Thortonburg.”

There was a silence that lasted a beat too long as the two men, so alike in height and build, assessed each other.

“My Lord Thortonburg.” Lance bowed formally.

“When will you be leaving us?” Elizabeth asked.

“This is my final week in the King’s employ,” Lance informed her.

“Was there a reason for your interruption?” Rafe’s tone was courteous, but he left no doubt that he wasn’t pleased.

“The King asked me to extend his invitation to stay here at the palace during your visit. If you wish to do so, I’ll attend to your personal security.”

“Please thank the King for me, but I’ll decline his invitation. I’ve already made arrangements at the Royal Drake Hotel.”

“Very good, sir.” Lance bowed, turned to Elizabeth and smiled. “I beg your pardon for the intrusion.”

As the door closed behind him, Elizabeth rounded on Rafe. “Why were you so rude to Lance?”

“I didn’t like how familiar he was with you.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“I’m not.” It was nearly a snarl.

Taken aback, she decided it was time for a little soothing of the savage beast. Warily she said, “You’re more than welcome to stay here if you like. I’m sure my parents would be pleased.”

Rafe gave a bark of laughter that wasn’t amused. “Right. Until they caught me sneaking out of your bedroom, you mean.” He reached for her so swiftly that she didn’t have a chance to evade his arms. “I don’t intend to sleep under the same roof with you unless you’re in my bed. And I don’t intend to sleep under another roof from you for very damn long. You’re marrying me. Soon. Before I actually have to kill the next man who puts his hands on you.”

His words sent a thrill of purely primitive reaction down her spine, though she refused to admit that his attitude made her feel cherished and protected and…safe. “I didn’t say I’d marry you. As I recall, before we were interrupted, we were discussing the possibility of a marriage.”

“The eventuality of our marriage.”

“The possibility,” she reiterated.

“There’s no good reason we shouldn’t marry,” Rafe said, pulling her to him again. “Kiss me, Princess. I’ve been away from you for more than half a day, and now I’m condemned to spend the night elsewhere, too.”

“I don’t want to kiss you,” she said irritably. “All that does is confuse the issue.” But as his hands roamed down her back and over her bottom, pulling her up against him, she moaned.

“Just think what we could be doing right now if we were still in Las Vegas.” His voice was a rough growl in her ear, his breath hot against her cheek. He pushed his hips firmly against her and when she shifted her legs incrementally to give his growing erection a snug home in the warm cove of her thighs, he caught his breath in a harsh gasp. “You love to tease me, don’t you?” He bent his head and seized her earlobe in his teeth, worrying the sensitive shell with a not-entirely-gentle series of nips.

The stinging sensations, soothed as they were by his agile tongue, were a stimulating caress, and she could feel her breath growing short, her body softening as it set up an insistent throbbing in the one place that so desperately needed his touch. She squirmed against him, rubbing her aching mound against the rigid flesh pushing at her.

“We can’t do this here,” she whispered into his shoulder.

“I know, but isn’t it fun pretending for a few minutes?” His mouth slid down the side of her neck.

She shuddered, feeling her willpower draining away. How could this one man make her brain cells go on holiday every time he touched her? “Would you really try to take the baby away from me?” It was an effort to focus.

He stilled against her. Finally his broad chest rose and fell in a heavy sigh. Setting her on her feet away from him, he said, “I will do anything I have to to get you to marry me, Princess. You’re never going to be on the other side of the Atlantic from me again.”

And as she stood there, bereft of his big, warm presence, dazed and trying to comprehend his words, Rafe made an impatient gesture. “Elizabeth, I want you. Not just today but for a long, long time.” He didn’t sound that thrilled by the admission. “Can you tell me you don’t want me, too?”

She hesitated, but honesty won out. “No,” she whispered.

“Then marry me.” That quickly, she was in his arms again and he was kissing her with wild, unrestrained passion, his hands roving familiarly over her body, pulling up her sweater to slide his palms around the pliant mounds of her breasts, murmuring in quiet satisfaction. When she dropped her hands to his waist and slid them around him, pulling his lower body against her so that she could feel the proof of his need for her hard and ready against her belly, he growled. Lifting his mouth so that it hovered just above hers, he dropped small, harsh kisses on her lips. “Marry me.”

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