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‘I spent it at the Ceres National Racetrack. I’m an investor in a racing team who were testing there. Sébastien, the team principal, is an old friend of mine. I went along to watch and had dinner with him and one of the drivers.’
Elsbeth, struggling to breathe as the heat from Amadeo’s body and the scent emanating from him seeped into her senses, scrambled for something else to say. She settled on, ‘You are a fan of motor racing?’ and then inwardly cringed at how gauche she must sound. But this was what Amadeo did to her. Overwhelmed her.
Life had taught her to be cautious and always think before she did or said anything, but it was a trait that amplified around him. When he was this close to her, her brain turned to mush. That he was naked and close enough that all she needed to do was move her foot a few inches and it would brush against his skin, made every cell in her body stand on end and every nerve strain towards him. The anticipation of Amadeo making his move and twisting his body to lean into her was almost unbearable.
‘Obviously or I wouldn’t invest in it,’ he said.
Amidst the inward cringing and thrumming awareness sparked a tiny thread of anger, and she had to fight hard to keep her expression amiable and her tone bright. ‘That’s good.’
She didn’t even know what she meant by that.That’s good. What was good? That he had an interest in something outside the royal family? That he’d escaped the castle for the day?
She widened her smile, not making any motion that could betray her accelerating bitterness at his failure to mention in all the time they’d spent together that week that he was going off on a private jaunt.
He hadn’t mentioned it because then he might have felt compelled to ask her along too.
Lying alone in her bed an hour later, Elsbeth stared up at the tester. Despite the lingering tingles racing through her body, only emptiness lay in the place where her heart should be, and she placed a hand to her chest to check it was still beating. It pulsed strongly against her palm and with it came a swell of tears to know that sex with her was nothing but a chore for him. Amadeo knew exactly what to do to make it good for her but never went beyond that. He made no attempt to see her naked and never kissed her anywhere but her mouth. He didn’t invite her to touch or kiss him anywhere.
Maybe it was for the best that he always left straight after they were done. That he always made her climax...that was the problem. It softened her, weakened her limbs and lowered her emotional defences.
Made her ache for a tenderness that could never be hers.
Elsbeth added a sweep of mascara to her eyelashes.
Another week had passed.
Her life had turned into Groundhog Week. Monday to Friday engagements, weekends and non-engagement evenings spent apart from her husband...
Apart from Duty Night. She’d taken to calling it that because she knew that was how Amadeo viewed it. She hated that she’d spent the week anticipating it.
She was coming to hate Saturdays. Allocated time for having sex.
She’d been married for four weeks and she’d had sex only three times.
It made her burn with humiliation to know that while he went through the motions with her, she came apart at his touch. But while she physically enjoyed every minute of their coming-together, emotionally she hated having to fight so hard to keep her passion contained and lie there passively beneath him. Hated that such passion had to be contained because he clearly felt none for her.
And she hated that she felt such excitement to be going out with him for a dinner date at Marcelo and Clara’s quarters. She had a strong feeling this was at Clara’s instigation and that the Englishwoman had refused to take no for an answer. It certainly wouldn’t have come from Amadeo. He was still making an effort with her but the problem for Elsbeth now was that she could actuallyseewhat an effort it was. She didn’t know what more she could do to win him over, and as she opened one of her cleverly fitted wardrobes disguised in her room’s panelling, she rifled through the racks of beautiful clothes with his opinion in mind.
Oh, why had she decided to get herself ready? Usually she trusted the judgement of the beauty team she shared with her mother-in-law and sister-in-law, and wore whatever they picked out for her, but as this was a private meal and not an official engagement she’d given them all the evening off. After all, Alessia was in Madrid and Queen Isabella in Muscat so the team could actually go out and enjoy their Saturday evening.
The personal designer and seamstresses she also shared with her in-laws had collaborated on a swathe of beautiful dresses for her and the latest finished pieces had been added. A flash of vivid red caught her eye and when she pulled it off the rack her heart rose to her throat at how bold and daring, andsexy,the dress was.
Had the designer peered into her mind and seen the kind of dress Elsbeth so longed to wear?
Her heart sinking back down, she replaced it on the rack. This was a dress she would never wear. She couldn’t. She was the future queen and it was imperative she dress with modesty at all times.
Sighing, she selected another, perfectly modest, dress with a side zip she could fasten herself.
She’d no sooner fastened the zip and checked her hair was in place when she heard the doorbell chime and her heart thumped into her ribs.
Amadeo was here.
CHAPTER FIVE
AMADEOENTEREDELSBETH’Squarters and took a seat in her dayroom while he waited for her. It was the first time he’d been here since their evening at the Italian embassy and he was still unsure what had prompted him to suggest he come into her quarters rather than wait in their joint reception room as he usually did
His critical eye noticed a couple of changes to the room, the most obvious being an acrylic painting of a woman wearing a headdress of vivid flowers. It was good but, to his practised eye, naively painted and unoriginal. That it was displayed over the ornate five-hundred-year-old fireplace made him scratch his head as he was quite sure there had been a Renaissance painting there before.
His attention was drawn from the painting by movement and he turned his head to find Elsbeth entering the room, her motions so graceful she made no sound.
