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His chest rumbled against hers as he chuckled. “I’ll mark it on my calendar. It will take me a while to learn how to navigate being both a leader and a husband. You’ve been a crucial part of this administration, Clara, and I don’t intend for you to sit on a couch the rest of your life eating chocolates. I want you to be involved in Linnaea’s future.”
Ridiculous how such a non-sentimental statement could warm her.
“Well...thank you.”
With her anger slowly subsiding, she became acutely aware of just how tightly they were melded together. The last time Alaric had held her this close, the muscles of his arm pressed against her back, she’d been arching against the thrusts of his body as he’d wrapped his fingers in her hair and kissed her senseless. The heat in her veins turned from a fiery burst of anger to a languid, seductive song that made her relax against him.
A growing hardness against her thigh signaled that she wasn’t the only one being affected by their surroundings.
Slowly, she looked up. Alaric was staring down at her, his eyes glittering with intensity.
Just like the first, and only, time they’d kissed, she wasn’t sure who moved first. Their lips met, one hand pressing against her back and the other sliding down to the curve of her hip, fingers urging her closer until she was straddling his thigh. She clung to his shoulders and sighed, opening her mouth to him. He growled and pressed deeper, his tongue sweeping across her lower lip before he claimed her in an intimate dance that made her heavy with desire.
When they’d kissed in his office, they’d moved at a frenetic pace that had left her breathless. They’d gone from a frantic kiss to him lifting her onto his desk, sliding her skirt up and trailing his fingers over the sensitive skin of her thighs. The moment he’d realized she hadn’t been wearing panties beneath the tight evening gown, he’d shuddered and asked if she wanted this. She’d kissed him for an answer as her fingers had undone his zipper before wrapping around his impressive length. It had been incredible, but far too short.
Now, even though the world was just beyond the curtain and waited for them with all of its messiness, now they had a little time.
Her hands moved up to his hair, her fingers tangling in the thick, silky strands. She savored the texture, dropped one hand down to his neck and thrilled at the cords of muscle tight beneath his skin. As her fingertips grazed over his throat, he suddenly slid both hands under her thighs, lifted her up and spun around. Gently, he set her down on one of the chairs, his lips never leaving hers, as his hands drifted down to the hem of her shirt.
“Alaric...”
He froze. And then he was gone, releasing her so quickly she fell back into against the chair.
Alaric moved as far away as he could to the curtain, his chest rising and falling as his harsh breathing filled the small space.
“Clara... I’m sorry.”
“Why?” She stood, reached out to him, tried not to let her hurt show when he jerked away from her touch. Three days ago she hadn’t been sure she was ready for the physical intimacies Alaric had hinted would come in time with their marriage. But now, after being reminded of just how truly good they were together, she wanted nothing more than to feel his body against hers again. To feel beautiful and sexy and alive. “We’re married now, Alaric.”
“I’m a prince. You’re a princess. We’re next in line to the throne.” He gestured to the close confines of the reading nook. “This is beyond inappropriate. If we were to get caught, the media would rain hell on us. It’s taken me years to build Linnaea’s reputation back up, despite Daxon’s and Celestine’s efforts to ruin it. I don’t want to risk that again.”
Mortification stung her cheeks. She’d been concerned that Alaric had placed her in the same category as his ex-fiancée. But could she blame him when she’d ground her hips against his thigh with people just steps away, the same way Celestine had been plastered between those two men at the dance club in New York?
“I’m sorry, Alaric.”
“It’s my fault, Clara. I brought you back here.”
Exhaustion settled into her bones and threatened to drag her down.
“We both made a mistake.”
He stirred. “Clara, I don’t think—”
“Could we discuss this later in a more private setting?” She nodded toward the curtain. “We’ve risked enough for tonight.”
His mouth thinned into a grim line. He nodded and held back the curtain.
“Go. I’ll wait a few minutes for you and Stefan to leave. I’ll see you at the house.”
She walked past him, keeping as much distance between them as possible. Thankfully there were no customers in sight, no one except Stefan, who stood ten feet away, his eyes scanning the shelves. When he saw her walking toward him, he all but snapped to attention.
“Ready to go, Your Highness?”
“Yes. I’m sorry if I got you in trouble, Stefan.”
Stefan blinked in surprise, then bowed his head. “The prince was displeased, but he corrected me on protocol for future outings.”
What future outings?she thought glumly as Stefan escorted her to the car waiting outside. It looked like, at least for the foreseeable future, she was truly going to be trapped at the lake house, just like Miles had confined her to the penthouse. After the incident in the reading nook, Alaric would probably disappear into his office for the rest of their honeymoon. And unlike her first marriage, where she’d stayed primarily out of fear and loneliness, now she had to stay for the sake of her unborn child.
