The Impoverished Princess Read online

  Ostensibly on holiday.

  Had Princess Serina made the somewhat surprising decision to come to New Zealand in order to throw any suspicious person off the scent? He had every reason to believe her brother had gone to Vanuatu for just that reason. That afternoon Gerd had told Alex that the security man he’d sent to infiltrate the group had been over eager and raised suspicion. Alex had ordered the plant’s immediate withdrawal, but from now on they’d have to work on the assumption that the group knew they’d been infiltrated.

  How deeply in their confidence was Serina? She’d used her email that afternoon to send photographs. Had she contacted Doran, or the plotters?

  He glanced down at her face, as serene as her name, beautiful and remote and desirably tempting.

  Her explanation of her brother’s activities had been almost believable, but she hadn’t been persuasive enough to quite convince him. According to his man, there was an excellent chance she was fully aware of what was going on.

  With the spy gone, he and Gerd had no other way of finding out anything more but, from what they’d learned, the plotters were getting ready to make a move.

  Perhaps it was time to find out whether Serina was ready to sacrifice her body to the cause.

  He forced back an instinctive distaste. Lives would be lost if the group were allowed to proceed and, although he had no sympathy for those who believed the end justified the means, he suspected this was one of the times when it really did.

  Besides, although Serina was extremely aware of him, she was no fluttering ingénue, hoping that an affair would lead to marriage. Her father, a notorious libertine, would have taught her that such things were transitory.

  And he wouldn’t be faking. From the moment he’d met her, he’d found the aloof Princess Serina very alluring and he was enjoying crossing swords with her.

  Plenty of very satisfactory relationships, he thought cynically, had been built on much more shaky grounds than that.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  MADE wary and somewhat confused by Alex’s silence, Serina took another sip of wine.

  He said calmly, ‘So it’s agreed then that I’ll make the first contact, and I’ll come with you.’

  Why was she hesitating? His suggestion made sense, yet some recalcitrant part of her urged her to be cautious, to cling to her in dependence. And long periods spent with Alex in the close confines of a car would dangerously weaken her resistance.

  What resistance?

  In his arms she’d completely surrendered, offering him anything he wanted. What would have happened if Lindy hadn’t come along?

  Nothing, she thought sturdily. Alex was super-sophisticated; she couldn’t imagine him making love in a Land Rover, or on the grass in full view of a mob of sheep…

  The thought should have made her smile. Instead, heat curled up through her, seductive and taunting. Imposing rigid constraint on her treacherous thoughts, she said, ‘Yes. Thank you very much for being so helpful.’

  Something moved in the depths of his eyes and his smile held a touch of mockery, as though he understood her reluctance and found it amusing. However, his tone was almost formal. ‘It will be my pleasure. How are you enjoying that wine?’

  ‘It’s delicious.’

  ‘Someone taught you how to evaluate it.’

  She set the glass down. ‘My father was a true connoisseur and did his best to make sure Doran and I were too.’

  Her father’s cellar and her mother’s jewels had helped pay off his debts after her parents had been killed. Selling the villa, with its magnificent gardens, hadn’t been enough. The only things she’d been able to salvage were her mother’s tiara—paste, she’d discovered to her shock—and her father’s telescope.

  ‘So I’ve heard,’ Alex said.

  A note in his voice made Serina wonder what else he’d heard about her father. That he was also a great connoisseur of women?

  Ignoring the cynical thought, she said lightly, ‘And of course anyone who likes wine knows that New Zealand produces really interesting, fresh vintages that have won some top competitions.’

  She relaxed when they moved on to more general topics. Alex’s keen mind fascinated her, and she quickly learned to respect his breadth of knowledge.

  Yet his every word, each disturbing look from those ice-blue eyes, was enriched by an undercurrent of muted, potent sensuality. Focused on her, hot and intense, it sharpened her senses into an un bearably exciting awareness of everything about him—from the deep timbre of his voice to the lithe masculine grace of his movements.

  During the superb meal and coffee in the library afterwards, Serina was not only aware of a smouldering arousal, but was shocked to find herself unconsciously sending subtly flirtatious glances his way.

  Enough, she commanded after a pause that had gone on too long. Much more of this, and you’ll be asking him to kiss you again.

  Or take you to bed…

  But it took a huge effort of will to uncoil herself from an elderly and extremely comfortable leather sofa in front of the fire place and say huskily, ‘I suspect I haven’t entirely got over jet lag. I know I should try to stay awake, but I’m going to drop off to sleep right here if I don’t go.’

  He got to his feet. The renewed impact of his height and the fluid power of his body stirred a heady stimulation more potent than the champagne she’d drunk before dinner.

  Terrified that he’d recognise her chaotic mixture of need and longing, she kept her gaze fixed on the arrogant jut of his jaw and dredged up enough composure to say almost steadily, ‘Thank you for a delicious meal and a very pleasant evening.’

  But, when she turned to go, a hand on her shoulder froze her into stillness. Heart juddering into overdrive, she opened her mouth to object, then closed it again and allowed herself to be eased around to face him.

  Their eyes duelled—his narrowed in an intent, direct challenge so forceful she shivered.

  ‘Tell me what you want,’ he said, each word harsh and distinct.

  She swallowed and nodded, stunned at her trust in this man she barely knew. ‘You already know,’ she said in a tone she’d never used before.

  His chest rose and fell. Mindlessly, she swayed into his arms as they closed around her.

  ‘Look at me,’ he commanded, his voice low and raw.

  Serina obeyed, and abandoned the final remnants of caution when she saw his gaze heat with a blaze of desire.

  It was far too soon to surrender, she thought vaguely, but when his mouth claimed hers her mind closed down, yielding to the pure carnal rapture of sensation, releasing the barriers of her will to let her body enjoy what it craved—had craved so desperately since their first kiss.

  No, even before that, although she’d rarely let herself admit it. Their first meeting a year ago had sparked a hunger that the long months apart had only increased.

  His lips opened on hers, coaxing and persuasive. Shivering deliciously at the silent invitation, she accepted it. His tongue plunged, and she wriggled against him, her body insistently demanding a satisfaction she’d never yet experienced.

  Alex’s arms tightened, bringing her into intimate, explosive contact with the hardness of his loins. Rivulets of fire ran through her, turning into ashes all the convictions that had kept her a virgin.

  He lifted his head. Serina sighed, turned her face into his neck and sank her teeth lightly into his skin. ‘Serina.’

  The way he said her name—in a voice raw with passion—sounded more wonderful to her than the most exquisite music. She kissed the tanned, subtly flavoured skin she’d bitten, inhaling the faint sensuous scent that was his alone. A shudder flexed his lean body and she felt the latent power there, the male strength she both desired and feared.

  ‘Alex,’ she said softly and, in her own language, the language of her ancestors, she murmured, ‘Your kiss has stolen my soul…’

  ‘What are you saying?’

  Realisation iced through her. How could she have been so swept away as t
o come out with that? Shocked, she overcame her reckless need sufficiently to say tonelessly, ‘It’s something from an old Montevellan folk song. My first nurse used to sing it to me…’

  The words faltered in her mouth and she could have bitten her tongue out. If this was what lust did to you—unlocked the bars of your mind so that all the secrets came spilling out—it was terrifying.

  And love had to be even worse—a total revelation. How could anyone bear it? Closing her eyes, she turned her head away.

  ‘Translate it for me,’ Alex said.

  Ever since she’d been old enough to realise the depths of passion in the simple words, she’d refused to believe anyone could feel so desperately lost to desire. Now she’d known that same reckless capitulation, she understood, and the knowledge locked her lips.

  A lean finger turned her head, tilted it. She forced her eyelids up, braced herself to meet and repel the leashed authority of his gaze.

  ‘Serina?’

  And, when she couldn’t move, he said, ‘All right, you don’t want to tell me, but you can come out of hiding.’

  Shrugging, she tried for a smile. It wobbled precariously, but she managed to say in a reasonably level voice, ‘It’s nothing, really. Take the music away and it turns into the usual treacly sentiments you find in every pop song. And I’m not going to sing it to you!’

  She felt his chest lift, and his quiet laughter reverberated against her. ‘It seems only poets can do true justice to our deepest emotions. Whatever was said in your old song, it’s entirely mutual.’

  Swift and sure, he kissed her. His previous kisses had taken her to an unknown place where the rules she’d lived her life by were shattered. This one was so frankly carnal it set her head reeling. Her mouth softened under his, opened again.

  A prisoner of dangerous need, she melted into him, taking reckless delight in the harsh intake of his breath. Whatever he felt, she thought with her last remnant of logic, he couldn’t hide his hunger.

  When he lifted his head she tensed, thinking he was going to stop, but he transferred his attention to her throat, and after he’d found the vulnerable hollow at the base he trailed kisses across the silken skin to reach the acutely sensitive spot at the junction of her neck and shoulder.

  Her knees buckled at the sensation—urgent and savagely consuming—that drowned her in molten pleasure, singing through her body with a primal magnetic summons.

  His teeth grazed her skin, repeating the erotic little caress she’d given him. Sensation stormed through her. In her innermost heart Serina realised that she had been born for his touch.

  Born for this man…

  Panic clogged her throat.

  Alex raised his head. Half-closed gaze holding her still, he shifted one hand to cup a pleading, sensitised breast.

  Anticipation, wild and feverishly sweet, clamoured through Serina. Unable to bear the intensity of it, stunned by the discovery she’d just made, she let her lashes droop to hide her eyes.

  But he commanded, ‘Look at me.’

  Barely able to articulate, she whispered, ‘It’s too much…’

  ‘It’s not enough,’ he rasped.

  ‘Alex,’ she muttered, unable to say anything more, clinging to his name as a life-raft in this turbulent sea of emotional discovery.

  He lowered his head again and took her mouth.

  The kiss was urgent and compelling. Inside, she became hot and slick, her body preparing her for the ultimate embrace. For a fleeting moment she stiffened but, when his other hand found her hips and eased her even closer, she knew that if she didn’t follow where her heart led she’d always regret it. No matter what happened, what lay ahead, she wanted this—wanted Alex—with a desperation that made rejection un thinkable.

  Her breath stopped in her lungs as his thumb moved slowly, lightly across the nub of her breast, sending jagged white-hot darts of excitement through her.

  She needed…something else; without volition, her back arched, pressing the curve of her breast into his palm.

  His smile taut and humourless, Alex repeated the small movement. Its impact went right down to her toes, sizzling from nerve to nerve and melting her spine. A soft, erotic little sound in her throat startled her.

  He had to be able to hear—and feel—the thunder of her heart as her breasts lifted and fell more and more rapidly, in time with the tormenting glide of his thumb over the acutely sensitive centre.

  Waves of pleasure swelled through her in intolerable yearning. Buttressing them was an emotion even stronger and more durable than this shimmering, in can des cent desire.

  Somehow, without realising it, she’d fallen in love with Alex.

  Knowing full well that it wasn’t returned…

  Dimly, Serina knew she should be afraid, shocked, bewildered—should feel anything other than this sensuous delight that gave her the courage to raise her lashes when the kiss had finished.

  Alex’s eyes gleamed like midnight sapphires in the bronzed, autocratic angles of his face. Her pulse rocketed when she saw the evidence of her fierce response to his kisses on his mouth—both the thinner top lip and the sensuous curve of the bottom were fuller than normal.

  Her hands had somehow worked them selves across his back. She let them quest further down, her body tightening in exquisite supplication when she felt his response beneath her palms. Emboldened, she went further, only to freeze when the powerful thigh muscles stirred against her.

  His eyes blazed a question.

  Colour burned across her skin. With a lingering kiss to his throat, she signalled her wordless agreement but he demanded, ‘You’re sure?’

  ‘Very sure.’ Could that be her voice, vibrant with languorous promise?

  But should she tell him that this was very new to her?

  It seemed only fair, although a cloud darkened the surface of her excitement. After nervously wetting her lips, she muttered, ‘I haven’t…haven’t actually…’

  ‘You’re not protected?’ He held her away from him, his expression difficult to read. ‘Don’t worry about that,’ he said swiftly and hugged her. ‘I can deal with it.’

  Her eager anticipation dimmed a little more. Of course he would have protection. No doubt his other lovers had spent time with him in this house—al though they, she thought on a pang of sharp jealousy, had probably slept in the big bed she’d glimpsed in his room.

  Alex said, ‘But not here, I think. Would you like time to get ready?’

  No, she would not; it might give her time to rethink this. And if she did that she’d always regret it.

  She looked at him with something like challenge. ‘Like a Victorian bride?’ she said, then wondered what trick from her un conscious had brought that to mind.

  Because bridal was exactly how she felt—a little afraid, more than a little self-conscious, and yet eager, longing for what was going to happen.

  And she still hadn’t let him know that she was totally in experienced.

  She opened her mouth again to do so, but he stopped the tumbling words with a kiss, and under that passionate onslaught she forgot what she’d been going to say, forgot everything but the elemental need to make love to him.

  When he lifted his head she leaned into him to kiss his throat again. Daringly, she licked the place she’d just kissed, savouring the essence of him.

  ‘Hardly a Victorian bride,’ he said unevenly. ‘Your bedroom, I think.’

  Her acquiescence turned into a squeak when he swung her up into his arms.

  ‘I’m too heavy,’ she pro tested.

  ‘You’re tall, but far from heavy.’

  His smile revealed a flash of sheer male pleasure in his strength and, held against his heart, Serina felt more secure than she’d ever been in her life.

  Outside her room, he slid her down his body and held her for a moment before turning the door handle. Inside, the room was warmed by the glow from the lamp on the bedside table.

  Serina went in ahead and turned, holding the door wide
. ‘Welcome,’ she said in a smoky little voice, and immediately felt foolish.

  This was his house, after all.

  But he said, ‘Thank you,’ as though he understood the obscure impulse that had summoned the words. And then he said with a wry twist of his lips, ‘I’ll leave you here for a few seconds.’

  Of course. Protection…

  Why hadn’t he chosen his bedroom to make love to her? Serina closed the door behind him and stared sightlessly around the beautifully furnished room. Perhaps he liked his privacy, she thought with a hint of hysteria.

  She had no idea how to behave, probably for the first time since child hood—and now there was no mother, no governess to school her.

  This was just her and the man she loved, the man she wanted with all her heart and with every importunate cell in her body.

  A tap on the door made her start. She swung around and after a cowardly second opened it.

  Awkwardness overwhelmed her. Fixing her eyes on the middle of Alex’s chest, she searched desperately for something to say, finally coming out with, ‘When I was a child my nurse always left the light on so I never went into a dark room.’

  ‘Because of the night mares?’

  She nodded. ‘I’m afraid I still make sure of it, even though I know I shouldn’t waste power.’

  ‘Your peace of mind is as important as saving electricity,’ he said quietly. ‘Why are you looking so intently at my button?’

  The question jerked her head up, as perhaps he’d hoped it would, and her knees buckled under the heat of his gaze.

  ‘It’s a very nice button,’ she said idiotically.

  He took her hand and placed it squarely over the button so that the heavy, fast thud of his heart beat reverberated into her palm.

  ‘Perhaps you’d like to undo it,’ he suggested, a hint of laughter in his tone surprising her, and somehow relieving a little of her shyness.

  She accepted the challenge, then with great daring slid her hand into the opening she’d made. Excitement flared within her at the immediate increase in his pulse rate.