Royals: His Hidden Secret. Kelly Hunter
I did. And maybe I realise that now. But I was eighteen, Rafael, and I was scared. You were my heart. Caverness was my home. And my duty lay with the House of Duvalier. I could not have all three. Right or wrong, I chose to stay. You chose to leave.’
‘I had to leave,’ he said curtly.
‘I know that,’ she said. ‘Josien…I know how she treated you…I knew you only stayed as long as you did in order to protect Gabrielle from her rages. I always knew you’d leave. I’ve never blamed you for that.’
‘I blamed you,’ he said. ‘Hell, I blamed you for everything. It got me through the early days of being alone.’
‘Happy to help,’ she said faintly.
His lips twisted. ‘I don’t know where I’m going with this, Simone. I don’t know what I want from you. Anger. Absolution. Affection. I’ve got no idea.’
That made two of them. ‘You know what I thought when Gabrielle told me the wedding would be held in Australia and that you were to be Luc’s best man?’ she said tentatively. ‘I thought that finally, finally, I might be able to make my apologies and move on. I wanted to let go of the thought of you.’ They’d reached her tiny courtyard. ‘I wanted to stop measuring every man I met against you.’
‘And have you?’ he asked quietly as he leaned against the wall, nightcap in one hand and watchfulness in his eyes.
‘Well, I certainly have a new measure of man in place.’ Unfortunately, it was still firmly based on him. ‘Whether it serves me any better than the old one remains to be seen.’ Simone fished the key to the sliding door from her evening bag and went about unlocking it and sliding the door wide open. Surrendering her shoes at the door, Simone slipped inside, not daring to turn and see if Rafael had followed her.
She switched on the dining-room lamp, belatedly remembering that she’d left the room in a shambles and that the dining table had been awash with morsels of food meant to tempt Gabrielle into eating something before the ceremony. It wasn’t awash with food any more. Someone, probably the magnificent Sarah, had whisked it all away and tidied up in the process. ‘How do you think Sarah, Inigo, and the chef would feel about relocating to France?’ she asked, only half in jest.
‘I think Deidre who owns the guest house would shoot you.’ Rafael had ventured inside after all. Heaven help them both.
‘Just checking.’ Simone’s mouth suddenly felt very dry as Rafael set the Frangelico down on the counter and headed for the refrigerator. He found the jug of water and poured some into a tall glass. He poured one for her too. It sat there on the counter, untouched, a decision she did not want to make for fear that she would get it wrong. Princess or wanton? She could be either, and sometimes both, but Rafael did not want the wanton. No. For all his mockery, it was the princess he responded to. The princess who’d earned his compliments, and so it was that the princess stood before him now, trying desperately to appear composed and in control of her wayward emotions.
‘Are you heading off in the morning?’ he said.
‘Yes. Yes, to Sydney for a day before I fly out.’ She hadn’t wanted to linger. Not with Gabrielle and Luc gone and this so very clearly Rafael’s territory.
‘Whereabouts in Sydney?’
‘The Four Seasons.’
He nodded. ‘Will you be able to find it okay?’
‘The car has GPS.’
He nodded again. Conversation stalled. It was time to let go. Time to start dreaming of a life without an angel in it, avenging or otherwise.
Simone stepped woodenly towards him and held out her hand. She would weep once he’d gone but right now she gave him what he wanted and played the princess as she said goodbye. ‘Good luck with Etienne tomorrow.’
He looked at her and something flickered behind his eyes. He ignored her hand. Put the tips of his fingers to her cheek and kissed her softly on the lips. ‘That’s for the princess who helped make my sister’s wedding day a memorable one.’
Her lips clung; she couldn’t help it. He meant too much to her, this man, and always had.
Rafael’s gaze sought hers, searing and tormented as his hand slid around to the back of her neck and he tilted her head, his lips hovering millimetres above her own. ‘Damn you,’ he whispered raggedly. ‘Damn you to hell, because this is for me.’
And then his lips crushed down on hers as he unleashed his passion and his fury, all of it, all at once, and dragged her with him to a place where a dark and sensual madness ruled them both.
He wanted her wanton and naked before him. He wanted to possess her until she convulsed around him and screamed out his name. Heaven help him, he wanted to break her, and remake her, and scar her soul the way she’d scarred his. ‘Say you want what only I can give you,’ he murmured as he backed her against the counter and his lips found hers again and then her cheek, and then the vulnerable spot behind her ear. ‘Say it.’
‘I do want it,’ she whispered, her hands inside his jacket, her fingers seeking the buttons on his vest, and then the shirt, and then her hands slid to his chest as she dragged her lips across his throat. ‘All of it.’ His jacket fell to the floor. He found the zipper of her dress and slid it south. Flesh, warm and fragrant. Softness and curves and a taste he’d never forgotten. Urgency, and madness as he finally got her naked and lifted her in his arms the better to take what he wanted and he wanted it all.
Flesh cleaved to flesh and lips upon lips as she gave and he took without care for the price.
A bed and some sheets and Simone in his arms, crying out his name as he buried himself deep inside her, one hand on the curve of her behind as he positioned her exactly where he wanted her and, with his heart pounding and his soul fighting to be free of its cage, began to move.
‘Slower,’ she whispered as her body responded instantly, hot and slick and tightening as she spoke. ‘It’s been too long for me. Rafael, please. You have to slow down or I won’t last a minute.’
He didn’t want her to. He wasn’t asking her to. ‘Say my name.’ He wanted her screaming, he wanted it now, and, calling on the ruthlessness that always lingered just below the surface, he sought her centre with his thumb and stroked. ‘Say it.’
She cried out as she came for him, a ragged word escaping her lips, a broken word, both curse and plea. She clawed at him to join her and he did, tumbling down after her, over her, as he gave himself up to unbearable pleasure and to hell with the pain that would come of it. Simone surfaced hard from the depths of pleasure, gasping as tiny aftershocks rocked her body. Pleasure flowed, desire consumed, and Rafael’s touch gentled as he rolled to one side, still cradling her tightly in his arms.
He gave her no words, there were no words for this.
But touch, he gave her that, and the thundering of his heart beneath her cheek, he gave her that too.
‘Are you protected?’ he said gruffly.
‘From pregnancy? Yes.’ From losing her heart to this man all over again? She feared not. Simone eased up onto one elbow the better to study him. Rafe’s eyes glittered in the dim light, so boldly blue and almost sated. His lips curved as she slid over him and settled on top of him more fully, her hands either side of his head as her hair fell across one shoulder to curtain them both. ‘I want to spend the night with you,’ she said as her lips brushed his jawline.
‘Yes.’
‘The whole night.’
‘Yes.’ He drew her down for another kiss. Not sated, that kiss told her. Not nearly.
Good.
She let his possession of her mouth inflame her. She let the feel of his body beneath hers consume her. The hard and rippling planes of his chest. She wanted to go slow this time, to record and to remember, and,