Prince of Scandal (7 page)

Her heart clenched. No wonder Raul was so self-sufficient. She stared up at his perfectly sculpted mouth, just made for reducing women to mindless adoration.

‘But as an adult. With women, I bet you’ve always—’

‘Luisa.’ The hand at her jaw slid round to thread through her hair and hold the back of her head. His eyes gleamed with an inner fire. ‘You’re talking too much.’

She watched those lips descend in slow motion. As if he gave her a chance to pull free. Or to savour their impending kiss. Excitement raced through her.

By the time his mouth covered hers Luisa’s breath had
stalled, her lips opening to meet his, her pulse an insistent, urgent beat.

Their kiss was slow, a leisurely giving and receiving of pleasure. Delight swamped her in a warm, sultry wave. This wasn’t like the forceful, hungry passion they’d shared in Paris.

A voice in her head tried to point out that in Paris they’d shared nothing. Raul hadn’t felt anything.

But Paris seemed so far away.

Here, now, this felt like something shared. Something offered and accepted. Not dominance or submission. Not demand or acquiescence, but something utterly, satisfyingly mutual.

Luisa slipped an arm around his waist, revelling in how his muscles tensed then relaxed to her touch, testament to the leashed power of the man caressing her so gently. The realisation heightened her pleasure.

His tongue curled against hers as he drew her deeper into his mouth and the little voice of sanity subsided, overwhelmed by the magic Raul wove with his kiss, his big body, his tenderness.

Desire unfurled within her like a bud opening to the sunlight. Tendrils spread low to the feminine hollow between her legs. Up to her breasts that tingled as he pulled her closer, as if to absorb her into his body.

Her other hand rose to splay across his neck, discovering the pulse thudding heavily at his jaw. Then up to tangle in the rough silk of his hair.

Raul growled at the back of his throat. The raw sound of pleasure thrilled across her skin and sent heat plunging through her.

The languor that had held her spellbound dissipated and she wriggled against him, wanting more. The tingle of sensation at her hardening nipples became a prickle of need. The lavish, slow swirling eddy of delight in her belly grew more urgent.

Then, abruptly, he pulled back. Just enough for her to see his face. Stunned, it took a moment to read the heat in his hooded gaze and realise he was breathing heavily.

He grasped her wrist and tugged it down, holding it securely away from him.

‘Next time—’ his nostrils flared as he drew a deep breath ‘—if you want a tour, ask me. I’ll arrange to come with you or have someone guide you. Agreed? ‘

Silently Luisa nodded, her mind abuzz, her world rocked out of kilter. Could she blame shock for the fact that she wanted to fall back into the arms of the man she’d been so sure she detested?

Two weeks later, in conversation with a gallery curator, Raul found his gaze straying to Luisa. She stood before a display of botanical studies, talking to the junior curator who’d organised the exhibit.

Raul’s gaze slid appreciatively up her slender legs. It was the first time he’d seen her in a dress and he couldn’t keep his eyes off her. Especially when she smiled at her companion with all the warmth of her sunny homeland.

The impact was stunning. Heat flickered along his veins and pooled in his groin.

She was blossoming into a lovely woman. That had to explain why she’d been knotting his belly with thwarted desire since Paris.

And why he’d succumbed to temptation and kissed her in the tower. His pulse jumped and a spike of something like fear drove through his chest at the memory of her sprawled out over that fatal drop. The need to hold her and not release her had been unstoppable. The hunger for another sweet taste of her lips inexplicable.

It disturbed him, the force of this unexpected attraction.

She was utterly unlike his usual companions. She was unpolished, preferring flats to high heels and avoiding even the simplest of her inherited jewellery. She had a habit of talking to anyone, particularly the staff, rather than to VIPs. He sensed she’d be as happy chatting to the gardeners as attending a glitzy premiere occasion.

Yet his heart lifted when he was with her.

He told himself that was sentimental twaddle. Yet there was definitely
something
about his bride-to-be.

Raul shook his head. Didn’t he prefer his women sophisticated, assured and sexy?

Why did Luisa infiltrate his thoughts at every turn? Why had he found it so hard to release her that day in the tower? Or to pursue his own busy agenda while she began her lessons in language, etiquette, history and culture?

Because he wanted her.
And, almost as much as he wanted her, he wanted her company.

Raul turned to his companion. ‘Could the Princess and I have time alone to view the rest of the exhibition?’

The curator agreed enthusiastically. Such interest boded well. Two minutes later Raul and Luisa were alone. Even the guard at the door discreetly melted into an adjoining space.

‘Thank you.’ She turned to him and he saw her eyes were overbright. His heart thumped an unfamiliar beat and his hand closed automatically over hers.

‘Are you OK?’ He’d thought to please her with this visit, not upset her. Show her she
did
have a connection with his homeland.

‘I didn’t expect to see my mum’s work on show. It was a lovely surprise.’

Raul shrugged. ‘She was a talented artist. It’s a shame she didn’t continue her botanical painting.’

Luisa looked away. ‘She dabbled but she said it was a discipline that needed dedication. She couldn’t give that. Not with the farm.’

He nodded. It was clear what a toll that place had taken on Luisa’s family. Her mother should have more than early works on display. She would have if she’d not embraced a life of hardship. All for the supposed love of a man who could give her so little.

People were fools, falling for the fantasy of love.

So-called love was an illusion. A trap for the unwary. Hadn’t he learnt that to his cost?

‘It was kind of you to bring me.’ She touched his sleeve and
looked up from under her lashes in an unconsciously provocative way that made heat curl in his gut. ‘Lukas told me you rarely have time for such things, especially now.’

‘It was nothing. It’s been a while since I visited and there were issues to discuss.’ The last thing he needed was for her to get the idea he’d changed his schedule for her. Even if it was true.

Luisa had been stoically uncomplaining through her first weeks in Maritz. Yet the change must be difficult for her. Despite her heavy tuition schedule he’d often glanced up from a meeting to see her wandering in the gardens and he had the discomfiting notion she was lonely, despite her ever-widening acquaintance.

Guilt blanketed him. She was here because of him, his country, his needs. What did she personally get out of it?

She wasn’t interested in riches or prestige. The only money she wanted was to save her friends.

His lips twisted. She didn’t see
him
as a prize, even if she couldn’t conceal the passion that flared when he kissed her. Luisa Hardwicke was a salutary lesson to his ego.

‘I had no idea Mum’s work was so well regarded.’ She turned to examine a delicate drawing of a mountain wildflower and he followed, not wanting to lose the warmth of her hand on his arm.

‘Tell me about her.’

Luisa swung round. ‘Why?’

He shrugged, making light of his sudden need to understand Luisa’s family, and her. ‘She must have been strong to have stood up to your grandfather.’

Luisa grimaced. ‘Maybe it’s a family trait.’

‘Sorry?’

She shook her head. ‘I thought she was remarkable. And so did my dad.’

Raul threaded his fingers through hers, pleased when she didn’t pull away. ‘Tell me.’

For a long moment she regarded him. Then she seemed to make up her mind. ‘She was like other mums. Hard working,
making do, running a household and doing the books. Always busy.’ Luisa paused. ‘She made the best cinnamon Christmas biscuits and she gave the warmest hugs—guaranteed to make you feel better every time. She loved roses and had an eye for fashion, even if we couldn’t afford to buy it.’

Luisa moved to the next picture and he followed. ‘She hated ironing and she
detested
getting up early.’

‘Not suited to be a farmer’s wife then.’ The change from palace to dairy must have been hard. Had the marriage been a disaster? He frowned. It didn’t sound so.

Luisa laughed, a rich, lilting chuckle and Raul’s senses stirred. ‘That’s what Dad used to say. He’d shake his head and pretend to be scared she’d go back to her glamorous world. Mum would smile that special smile she saved for him and say she couldn’t possibly leave till she mastered the art of cooking sponge cakes as well as my aunt. Dad would say no one could ever make sponges like Mary, so Mum would just have to stay for ever. Then he’d kiss her.’

Raul felt the delicate tremor in her hand and watched a wistful smile flit across Luisa’s features. He knew an unaccountable desire to experience what she had. The warmth, the love. A childhood of cinnamon biscuits and hugs. How different from his own upbringing!

‘But how did it work?’ He found himself curious. ‘They were so different.’

She shrugged. ‘They came from different worlds but they made their own together. Dad said she made him feel like a king. Mum always said he made her feel more like a princess than she’d ever felt living in a palace.’ Luisa swung to face him. ‘Life with my grandfather wasn’t pleasant. He tried to force her into marrying someone she detested, just to cement a deal. There was no laughter, no fun. Not like in our home.’

Someone she detested.
Did Raul fit that category for Luisa? He told himself the country must come first, yet he couldn’t squash regret.

‘They were in love; that was the secret.’

It didn’t take a genius to know that was what Luisa had wanted for herself. Till he’d come along.

Never before had Raul’s duty seemed so onerous. He was doomed to disappoint her. He didn’t even believe in love. He’d never experienced it.

‘But she loved it here.’ Luisa turned to him, her smile a shade too bright. ‘Mum wanted to bring us one day to see it.’

‘I’m glad.’ He paused, clasping her hand more firmly. ‘In time I hope you come to love it too. It’s a special place. There are no people like Maritzians.’

‘You’re not biased, are you?’

‘Surely that’s my prerogative.’ He led her towards the rest of the exhibition, regaling her with a traditional local story. It surprised him how much he wanted to hear her laugh again.

Raul strode swiftly to his study. There was a crushing amount of work to do and, though the unrest in the provinces had abated a little, he couldn’t afford to be complacent.

Yet the wedding tomorrow, a small affair since the nation was in mourning for his father, would pave the way for his coronation and go a long way to solving his problems.

Taking his bride to bed would go a long way towards easing the permanent ache in his groin.

Anticipation pulsed in his blood at the thought of his wedding night to come. His desire for Luisa grew daily.

The more time he spent with his bride-to-be the more she fascinated him. She was vibrant, engaging, determinedly independent and down-to-earth. Different from every other woman he knew.

Even now he never knew what to expect from her.

Lukas approached as he reached the study.

‘Your Highness.’ He fell into step beside Raul.

‘Yes? Am I late for my meeting?’

‘No, not that.’ His secretary hesitated, his mouth turning down. ‘You have a visitor. I wanted to warn—’

‘Raul. Darling!’ The husky female voice came from the
door ahead. For one shattered instant Raul felt his feet rivet to the floor as shock vibrated through him. His hands clenched into fists. Then, bracing himself, he slowly approached the blonde draped in the doorway.

‘This is unexpected, Ana. What are you doing here?’

‘Surely you didn’t expect me to miss your wedding, darling?’ She straightened and lifted her head, her lips a crimson pout. ‘Your invitation didn’t reach me. Luckily I heard about it on the grapevine.’

He stopped a metre away, distaste prickling his skin. Foolishly, he’d thought he’d seen the last of her, for the time being at least.

They weren’t in public so there was no need for a courteous bow. And she could wait till hell froze over before he took up the invitation implicit in that pout.

Not when she was the woman who eight years ago had dragged him to hell.

‘L
UISA,
you look so lovely!’ Tamsin said. ‘This pearly cream is wonderful with the golden tone of your skin.’

‘You think so?’ Luisa stood stiffly, uncomfortable in the full length gown of silk. The fitted bodice covered with cobweb-fine hand-made lace. The diadem of finely wrought gold and pearls.

The bridal dress showcased the finest traditional Maritzian products. Lace from one province. Hand woven silk from another. The exquisite filigree gold choker necklace that made her throat seem elegant and impossibly fragile was by craftsmen in yet another province. Beaded slippers from still another.

Only the bride hadn’t been involved in the design of her wedding clothes.

Gingerly Luisa turned to the mirror, feeling a fraud under the weight of this charade.

Yet the image awaiting her took her breath away. Could that really be
her?
A woman who till recently had spent her days in jeans and gumboots?

‘You look like a fairy princess.’ Tamsin shook a fold of embossed silk so the flaring skirt draped perfectly.

‘I don’t feel like it.’ Nausea churned in Luisa’s stomach. It was only through sheer willpower that she’d nibbled at a fruit platter for lunch. She whose appetite was always healthy!

‘Believe me.’ Tamsin clasped her hand briefly and smiled. ‘You’ll take everyone’s breath away. Especially Raul. He won’t be able to take his eyes off you.’

Luisa saw the other woman’s secret smile and wondered if she was thinking of her recent marriage to Prince Alaric, Raul’s distant cousin. It was clear that the big man with the steely jaw and face almost as handsome as Raul’s was deeply in love with his new English wife.

For a moment Luisa let herself imagine what it would be like to marry for love. Burnt so badly years ago, she’d buried herself on the farm, shunning any hint of male interest. She’d longed to experience true love but had she been too craven to open herself to the possibility?

The day Raul had saved her from falling and kissed her so tenderly she’d allowed herself to be swept along by his deep voice, his gentle hands and the unstoppable cravings that welled at his touch.

For one fragile interlude she’d longed to believe something warm and special could grow from their union.

Then there was his unexpected kindness, taking her to see her mother’s work.

But the fantasy was too painful. It scraped too close to the bone for a woman who’d been chosen, not for love or respect. Not even for convenience. But because Raul had no other option!

‘It’s good of you to help me get ready.’ She sent a shaky smile in Tamsin’s direction. Though this wasn’t a romantic match it was her wedding day. The day women looked to their mother for support.

Luisa had never missed her mum more.

‘It will be all right.’ Again Tamsin took her hand, chafing warmth into it. ‘I know how daunting it is marrying into a new world. Marrying royalty. But Raul will look after you. He’s like my Alaric. Strong and protective.’ She sent a speculative glance at Luisa. ‘And I suspect behind that well bred calm, very passionate.’

Heat roared through Luisa’s cheeks, banishing the chill that had frozen her all day.

Tamsin giggled, blushing herself. ‘Sorry. I didn’t mean to
embarrass you. It’s just sometimes I feel like pinching myself. It all seems so unreal!’

‘I know what you mean.’ Tamsin was an outsider too—a commoner and a foreigner who’d married her prince in a love match that had intrigued everyone. But Tamsin had fallen in love. Luisa would face her royal marriage and the weight of public expectation without love to cushion the shock. Their circumstances were so different.

‘I’m glad you’re here,’ she added, grateful to this initially reserved but warm-hearted woman.

‘So am I! And when you settle in, after your honeymoon, I hope we can spend more time together.’

Luisa nodded, not bothering to disabuse her. Raul was a workaholic. That was why the trip to the gallery had been such a lovely surprise. He wouldn’t take time off for a honeymoon. Not with a wife he didn’t really want.

A wife who was simply a solution to a problem.

A cold lump of lead settled in the pit of her belly as a soft knock sounded on the door.

‘It’s time, Your Highness.’

The music swelled and the massive doors swung open and Luisa stepped over the threshold into the castle chapel.

Multicoloured streams of light shone through ancient windows. A cloying wave of fragrance hit. Hothouse flowers and incense and a multitude of perfumes. Hundreds of faces turned to stare. She didn’t know a single one.

A rising tide of panic clawed at her, urging her to turn tail and run, as fast and as far as she could. Her heart slammed against her ribs and her knees shook.

She faltered, her hand curling into Alaric’s sleeve. He covered her hand with his and leaned close. ‘Luisa?’

‘This is a
small
wedding?’ Dazed, she saw heraldic banners, including some of the Maritzian red dragon, streaming from the lofty ceiling. The crowd murmured and it sounded like a roar.

‘Courage, little one. It’ll soon be over.’ He paced forward
and she had no option but to follow. ‘Tamsin and I have a bet on who spots the most absurd hat. Weddings incite women to wear the most monstrous things on their heads, don’t you think?’

His
sotto voce
patter continued all the way down the aisle, almost distracting her from the throng of hungry-eyed guests. Watching. Judging. Finding her wanting.

Suddenly she caught a smile. Tamsin, in muted gold, giving her an encouraging nod. Behind her was another woman, platinum blonde, dripping jewels yet sour-mouthed.

Then, abruptly, they were at the end of the aisle. Bands of steel squeezed the breath from her lungs as, with a sense of inescapable inevitability, she turned her head towards the dark figure she’d avoided since she entered.

Raul, tall and heart-stoppingly handsome in a uniform of scarlet and black that made him look like the model for Prince Charming.

Something in her chest rose and swelled. Was it possible that perhaps they could make this work? The other day they’d surely started building a fragile relationship.

Then she read his expression. Austere, proud, stern. Not a scintilla of pleasure. A complete absence of anything that might one day turn into love. His mouth was a stern line, his jaw chiselled rock.

She blinked quickly, hating herself because even now, faced with his indifference, she yearned for the tenderness he’d begun to show her.

How could she? She knew what she was to him. How could she be so weak as to want the impossible?

Luisa gulped. It was like swallowing shards of glass.

Just as well she hadn’t allowed herself to pretend he reciprocated her inconvenient attraction.

Her hand tightened, talon-like as Alaric ushered her forward. But Raul took her hand in his, his other hand at her elbow as she swayed.

She had to quell this anxiety. She’d
agreed
to this. She looked away, to the mass of flowers by the altar: a riot of roses,
orange blossom and lilies. Their scent was too pungent for her roiling stomach.

The priest spoke but Luisa didn’t listen. She was thinking that at home lilies were traditional for funerals.

‘Who
is
that woman?’ Luisa watched the petite platinum blonde lean into Raul, her hand possessive on his arm. Her scarlet dress matched his jacket perfectly and her plunging neckline showed a stunning cleavage. She smiled up, her face hardly recognisable as the one that had scowled at Luisa in the chapel.

‘She wasn’t in the reception line,’ Luisa added.

Raul stood on the other side of the reception room, his back to Luisa, but from here she’d almost swear the woman flirted with him. A spike of heat roared through her. Heat and anger. ‘Is she an ex-girlfriend?’

Beside her Tamsin spluttered, choking on champagne.

‘Are you OK?’

Tamsin waved her away. ‘I inhaled some bubbles. I’m not used to champagne.’

Luisa knew the feeling. This evening she’d sipped some, standing beside Raul for a formal toast. The wine had tickled her senses and tingled all the way down her throat. But it was Raul’s presence beside her, like a wall of living heat, that had made her giddy. His stern expression had eased for a moment and his lips had curved in a heady smile as he toasted her. The impact had knocked her for six and Luisa had felt as if she were floating.

As if this were a real wedding and she a bride smitten with her handsome husband! Instead of a woman blackmailed into cooperating. That still rankled.

Luisa stiffened. It scared her that Raul affected her so. That she might be jealous of the woman pawing at his jacket. It should be impossible, yet …

‘You don’t know her?’

Finally Tamsin looked up. A flush tinted her cheeks.

‘Tamsin?’ Her new friend’s expression made Luisa tense.

‘The woman with Raul? No one you need worry about.’ The words came out in a rush. ‘She lives in the US now.’

‘But who
is
she?’

Tamsin took another quick sip of wine. ‘That’s Ana. Raul’s stepmother.’

Stepmother?

‘But she’s too young!’ She didn’t act like a stepmother. The other woman was flirting outrageously. Luisa’s only consolation came from the fact Raul stood as stiffly as he had through the wedding ceremony, though he inclined his head as if listening intently.

‘I think she and Raul are about the same age.’

Through her shock Luisa heard Tamsin’s intense discomfort. She saw Tamsin’s gaze dart away as if seeking a diversion and uneasiness stirred.

Intuition told her there was something Tamsin wasn’t saying. Luisa turned back, finally noticing how the guests kept their distance from the pair. No one had approached Raul since his stepmother had claimed his attention but they all watched speculatively. An undercurrent of whispers eddied around them.

The frisson of uneasiness grew to stark suspicion.

No! Luisa refused to draw conclusions about Raul’s relationships. No matter what her eyes told her.

Yet she couldn’t stifle a feeling of betrayal.

As if sensing her scrutiny, Raul turned sharply, his gaze skewering her. Fire seared her blood and she felt as if she’d been caught out spying on him.

But she had every right to be here. This was
her
wedding reception.
Her
day. Even if it wasn’t her choice.

Hysterical laughter bubbled in her throat. Today should be the happiest day of her life!

If she didn’t laugh at the absurdity surely she’d cry.

Holding Raul’s eyes, she lifted her chin and downed the rest of her champagne.

‘If you’ll excuse me, Tamsin, I’d better introduce myself to my mother-in-law.’ Luisa passed her glass to a waiter and
picked up her skirts, grateful now for the formal dress that kept her posture perfect and made guests move aside as she stalked forward.

She was magnificent. She cut a swathe through the crowd as if it didn’t exist, her eyes locked with his.

A pulse of heat thudded deep in his belly at the sight of her: jaw angled, eyes glittering, chest swelling against the demure V neckline. She skimmed across the polished floor, her train sweeping magnificently behind her. Tiny bursts of fire peeped from beneath her hem as her jewel-encrusted slippers caught the light. It was as if she set off sparks with each step.

Absently Raul brushed Ana’s clawing hand away. He’d done what he had to—accepted her presence publicly. But he’d had enough.

He’d had enough of her eight years ago!

He barely registered her protest as he strode instead towards the woman he’d just married and pleasure surged.

All day tension had ridden him. Worries for the state. Fury at Ana’s return. Discomfort at the idea of marrying. Guilt at forcing Luisa’s hand. The need to bury his thoughts deep behind a cloak of royal calm. Now the tension morphed into something that had nothing to do with concerns and everything to do with his long-suppressed needs.

And with the challenge he read in his bride’s expression, her posture, her firmed lips.

Her eyes flashed azure fire and heat danced in his veins. He drew a breath, the first free breath all day.

He’d done his duty in marrying. Now he wanted to forget about duty, about diplomacy and building bridges with intransigent politicians and soothing the bruised egos of his father’s cronies. About his own doubts.

He wanted … Luisa.

A smile cracked his carefully schooled features.

‘Luisa, you look enchanting.’ Her pace propelled her forward and he took full advantage, stepping before her at the last moment and putting a hand to her waist, ostensibly to steady
her. Through the lace and silk he felt warmth and lithe muscle and the deep exhalation of her breath.

He grasped her other hand in his and lifted it to his mouth. Her eyes blazed and he almost smiled at the provocation in her glare. Instead he turned her hand and pressed his lips to her wrist. He heard her breath catch and a satisfying tremor rippled through her. Slowly he moved his mouth, kissing her palm and touching his tongue to the erogenous zone at its centre.

Her eyes widened and he felt pleasure tug through his belly. She tried to draw her hand away but he held her.

‘Aren’t you going to introduce me to your mother?’

He read the doubt and hurt pride in her eyes and silently applauded her front.

‘You mean my father’s second wife. Not my mother.’

‘My mistake.’ She bit the words out precisely with her even white teeth. ‘You two looked so close …’

Little cat.

This was what he’d missed. Much as he enjoyed having his plans go smoothly and the tantalising sense of closeness he’d experienced with Luisa now and then, he’d missed her vibrancy. From the first she’d sparked with energy and defiance. She’d obstructed him and argued and defied him. Even consenting to wed she’d been proud as an empress.

He enjoyed her sassiness when she stood up to him. He’d grown accustomed to fireworks. He enjoyed them more than he’d thought possible. Especially when it wasn’t argument that fuelled the conflagration.

Even the hint of jealousy in her tone pleased him. Did her desire match his? A bolt of excitement shot through him. He recalled her passion, the way she melted in his arms. How she watched him when she thought he didn’t see.