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Anger pulsed through her veins and gave her enough strength to sit up straight, bringing her within inches of Alaric. Miles had pressured her into getting engaged long before she was ready, and damn it, she’d let him. She’d been so lost after losing her mother, just a few years after losing her father, and had let her craving for a family override her gut feeling that her relationship with Miles had moved far too quickly, that while he was fun to be around he was not husband material. That one concession had led to another, then one more, until suddenly she’d had nothing left of herself but her name.
The penthouse, with its rooftop garden and indoor swimming pool, had quickly revealed itself for what it was beneath the glitter and expensive furnishings: a gilded cage. It had started out slowly, with Miles encouraging her to stay home and enjoy newlywed life, before progressing into ordering her to tell him her every movement when she left. His controlling demands had taken their toll to the point that she’d stopped going out unless he told her to accompany him somewhere. Easier to wither away in the penthouse than risk a furious tantrum from her husband.
The first time she’d left the house after his death, she’d paused so long in the lobby the doorman had approached to ask if she was all right. Stepping out into the blistering wind of a London winter had been so refreshing she hadn’t been able to hold back her smile or the tears of relief that had followed.
Nothing, including a prince used to getting his way, would make her give up her independence again.
“Not for me.”
“Because you’ve been married once before?”
“Yes. Once was enough.”
His eyes swept over her face, assessing, probing, delving deeper than anyone, including Miles, ever had. She didn’t flinch, didn’t pull away as one hand drifted up to rest against her cheek. He’d touched her in far more intimate places a month ago.
“Why?”
“My husband was spoiled and self-centered,” she replied matter-of-factly. “The man I dated was not the man I married. Marriage was not enjoyable. I don’t see myself repeating the experience.”
Alaric’s face softened as she spoke, something almost akin to compassion lighting his emerald gaze. But the brief empathy disappeared at her refusal.
“Yes. You will.”
She stood, her quick movement making his hand fall away and forcing him to move back. Was it wrong to take pleasure in knowing she’d literally thrown him off-balance?Probably, she thought as she walked to her door and held it open,but I’m too tired to care.
“No, I won’t. I’m sick. You have a wedding reception to be at. I have no desire to keep you from being involved if you want to be, but I’m not marrying you.” Pride at her ability to stand up for herself straightened her spine and strengthened her voice. “We’ll discuss options in the morning.”
Alaric drew himself up to his very imposing height. Broad shoulders that reminded her of the mountains beyond the palace that stretched up to the sky, tall, daunting and magnificent. Her body stirred as he stalked toward her, each step slow and deliberate, muscles rippling beneath the fine cloth of his suit.
When he’d held her in his arms, cradled her body against him as though she’d been crafted from spun glass as they’d both drifted down from the incredible peak of passion, she’d nearly wept. Wept from the sheer pleasure, wept from how incredibly alive she’d felt...
And wept because, for one moment, she’d felt cherished. Cared for.
Dangerous emotions that could lead down a fatal path, as she’d learned all too well. The difference was that, when Miles had showered her with gifts and compliments, she’d been starved for affection, left adrift by her parents’ death and feeling isolated among the bustling streets of London, a far cry from the small town she’d been raised in. He’d picked up a book she’d dropped outside the lecture hall at the University of London, shooting her a thousand-watt smile that had seemed like sunshine cutting through the cloud of grief she’d been under since her mother’s death the year before. He’d insisted on walking her to class, then taking her out to dinner, which had ended up being a private dinner cruise on the Thames. She knew now that her responses, overflowing with gratitude and praise, had fed into Miles’s ego. They’d created a vicious cycle for themselves that had whirled them through their courtship so quickly she hadn’t paid attention to the steadily growing warning signs until it was too late.
Now, no matter how incredible Alaric had made her feel, no matter how much she enjoyed his company, she knew that she didn’t need it to survive. And she certainly didn’t want it when the so-called proposal was rooted in necessity and, judging by the harsh set of Alaric’s jaw, anger.
Guilt punched through her own frustration. Alaric had suggested more protection. But after she’d mentioned being on the pill—stupid—they had both given in to the heat of the moment and eschewed any rational thought in favor of surrendering to lust.
She lifted her chin in the air as he stopped in front of her, staring down at her with hard eyes, quiet wrath radiating off his body.
“I am the heir apparent. ‘No’ is not an answer I’m used to hearing.”
Was it wrong to feel disappointed in his reply? His world had been turned upside down in the last two months, from a long-lost sister and sudden royal marriage to his own engagement being broken and now a child on the way.
Still, the Alaric she knew wouldn’t reply like a spoiled brat not getting his way, not when it was just the two of them. What if the man she thought she’d gotten to know, the man she’d felt closer to than anyone over the past few months, was just like Miles—an image she’d built up in her head?
“Then perhaps you need to hear it more often.” She gestured to the open door. “Because that’s all you’ll get from me. I won’t keep the baby from you. But I am not marrying you.”
He stepped closer. She breathed in and was hit by a familiar scent: pine and spice, a sensual, masculine mix that had wound itself into her psyche since that night in the gym. Except now, after being surrounded by that fragrance as Alaric had placed an open-mouthed kiss to the pulse frantically beating in her throat, his tongue dancing over her skin with an expertise that had set fire to her as he’d moved inside her body, it was no longer just a casual aroma. It ignited her senses, stirred memories better left in the past and, worst of all, lowered her defenses.
What would it be like, she wondered for the span of a heartbeat, to say yes? To be married to a man she respected, who always acted in the best interests of his country and the throne? Who had shown her a side of passion she’d never imagined could exist?
Her hand drifted toward her stomach before she caught herself. What would it be like to have a father in her child’s life? Something she herself had been so fortunate to have and had missed so terribly when cancer had cruelly snatched him away?
But what if she would be married to a man who, like her former husband, wanted what he wanted when he wanted it?
No, thanks.
