Scandals Of The Royals. Lynn Raye Harris
the hardness of his body against hers … in hers.
Ultimately, she was the one that moved, the one who angled her head so that her lips could touch his. Heat exploded in her as soon as their mouths met, a hot, reckless urgency overtaking her.
His kiss was hungry, but hers was starving. She needed it like air, with a desperation she hadn’t known lived in her. She planted her hands firmly on the back of his neck, fingers lacing through his thick dark hair as she held him captive against her.
He kept one hand flat on the wall, the other on her lower back, his large hand splayed over her, his heat so perfect and wonderful and not enough.
When they parted, it was with a moan of disappointment from her. His breath was coming in short, sharp bursts, and she was really glad to see it. To know he’d been affected too.
“That,” he said, his voice rough, “that is what makes you hard to ignore.”
Her stomach tightened, this time not with pleasure. She hated this. That he was able to demolish all of her barriers like this. That he brought up the hot, fiery passion in her that she’d fought for so long to ignore.
Hadn’t she learned anything? Rodriguez was going to marry her, but he would be just as faithful of a husband as Gabriel had been to his wife. The only difference was that instead of being the bit on the side, she’d be the one raising his children, keeping the household and family going while he was off pleasing himself.
Was that why Gabriel’s wife had stayed? Because Gabriel had her, body and soul, while she had nothing of him but his passing, occasional sexual interest?
And was that what Rodriguez would do to her?
No. It wouldn’t happen. She wouldn’t let it.
But she feared that with Rodriguez, the choice might not be hers. Because he didn’t simply test her willpower. He smashed it into a million pieces. Pieces that were so tiny she feared she might never be able to assemble it again.
“I’ll bet you say that to all the girls,” she said tightly, turning from him and walking down the corridor. Away from him. Away from the temptation he represented.
And she tried to fight the depression that was creeping over her like fog, drowning out the lingering arousal and leaving in its place the stark realization that time and experience hadn’t changed her. She hadn’t truly mastered that wild, passionate part of herself. She’d simply managed to hide it for a while. She wasn’t in control, and Rodriguez seemed to be out to prove it.
Madre di dio. Things could not get any worse.
“Are you serious? A birthday party?” Carlotta looked at Rodriguez and tried to ignore the slight fluttering that seemed to be taking place everywhere in her body.
She’d managed to steer clear of Rodriguez since the press conference, and since the kiss in the hall. She’d seen him, talked to him, but mostly she’d filled the two weeks since by acclimating Luca to his new home, visiting the local school, making a plan for him to attend in September.
But that didn’t stop her from wanting him. From staring at him every time they happened to have a meal with him. From fantasizing about him in her bed every night. In the shower the next morning.
She blinked and tried to concentrate on what he was saying.
“It’s for one of the heads of state, and it’s one of the really fun things we get to do as rulers of Santa Christobel. You know, go stand on hard marble floors eating soggy appetizers until our backs hurt.”
Carlotta wanted to melt into the settee she was perched on. She already felt spent. Rodriguez had been at the palace all day and avoiding him was starting to feel like a full-time job. She’d taken Luca to the cinema in the morning and then she and Angelina had taken Luca out to the beach for the afternoon. She currently felt grubby, exhausted and more than a little bit grumpy.
“On such short notice?”
He acted so calm around her. It was irritating. After the stupid fight, the passion explosion, the continued fighting.
She closed that line of thought down. She wasn’t going to remember that. It had been two weeks. No. She didn’t recall any of it. And her lips did not still tingle. Neither did any other part of her.
“Sorry, I only just got the invitation passed to me, but it really is too important to miss.”
It was infuriating, and it shouldn’t be, that he seemed entirely unaffected by the kiss-she-did-not-remember. Because he should look tense. Or unsatisfied. Or angry. Just … something. Rather than his typical, easy-breezy self. The mocking curve of his lips had returned.
She blew out a breath. “I know this is what it’s like. Public appearance after public appearance. And then, after, you go home and go to your separate bedrooms, then get up the next day and start over. It’s what my parents have always done. They’re professionals at this.”
“So you can do it too. I’m certain of that.”
“I’m certain I can … I never wanted to. For a while I thought …” She shook her head. “Sorry, I’m sharing … I don’t know what got into me.”
He sat in the chair across from her. “I have nowhere to be until 8:00 p.m. Share away.”
“Why?” she asked, narrowing her eyes.
“Shouldn’t I know? I’m going to be your husband.”
“It’s boring. But fine. I used to think I would get married for love. That my husband and I would have this grand passion that could not possibly be satisfied by separate bedrooms. I used to want … more than the sterile palace life I was raised in.”
“And now you’ve lost that dream?”
She snorted a laugh. “I lost that dream six years ago.”
“Because you got pregnant?”
“Because of the man who got me pregnant. I don’t like to call him Luca’s father. He’s never met him, so how can he be a father? But he … I thought he was the one, you know? I was stupid. I know better now. That’s just a bunch of romantic nonsense, it’s not reality. This, what we’re doing, is so much more meaningful.”
“Even though you hate it?”
She sighed. “At least there’s a reason. There’s something more firm than … love. Whatever that’s supposed to be.”
“I don’t know that I’ve ever met a woman as cynical on the subject of love as I am.”
“Well, now you have. We got distracted in the hall earlier,” she said, averting her gaze, “but the real reason I’m doing this isn’t about penance. It’s about doing something that matters. I can’t matter while I’m hiding in exile in Italy. I certainly didn’t contribute to the greater good when I started a relationship with him. There’s more to life than passion. Duty, that’s real. Marrying to better my country? Your country? There are benefits to that that no one can take away. It’s all so much more permanent than some ephemeral notion of love.”
“And lust? What are your feelings on lust?” The teasing light in his eyes was gone again, replaced by something dangerous, that intense darkness she’d sensed in him earlier.
“Lust is unnecessary, certainly nothing to overturn one’s life for.”
“Lust keeps things interesting,” he said.
“And what’s the point of lusting after a husband who intends on taking other women to his bed?” she asked, her words clipped.
“That’s only sex. Sex is cheap, Carlotta.”
She laughed. “Sex has always been very expensive for me. But then, I suppose that’s how it is for women.”
“I suppose so. Are your brothers virgins?”
“What? I