The King's Bride. Lucy Gordon
do. I think we understand each other very well, and have done from the beginning.’
The reserve had gone from his eyes, replaced by something that made her heart beat faster. Almost unconsciously she raised her face towards him as he lowered his mouth onto hers.
She was no green girl experiencing her first kiss, but it might almost have been the first from its effect on her. There’d been a time when a king had held his throne by being better, stronger, more skilled at everything than his subjects, and perhaps it was still partly true, for this king kissed like an expert, ardent, subtle, knowing how to seek out a woman’s weakness. Lizzie had never been kissed like this before, not even by the eager young husband with whom she’d shared a few months of wild passion before parting in bitterness.
His mouth caressed hers with urgency. In repose his lips were firm almost to the point of hardness, but now their movements were teasing, driving her as though he was being harried by his own desire. She tried to master her own rising excitement, determined to stay in control, but he was equally determined to strip control away from her. And he was winning.
He kissed the soft skin beneath one ear and she gave a small gasp. She was so sensitive there that normally she tried never to let a man approach it, but he’d known her weakness by instinct and gone for it without mercy. He continued the subtle assault down her long neck while she trembled and clung to him.
When he raised his head she longed to pull it down to her again and tell him to continue what he’d begun. Instead she became hypnotised by his eyes, which were brooding over her as though he too was trying to comprehend her, and failing.
‘You came here tonight for a purpose,’ he murmured. ‘Was this it?’
‘I—don’t know,’ she said wildly. ‘Perhaps—’
‘Ah, yes, the letters. Words on paper between people who are dead and gone. But we are alive. No woman ever felt so alive in my arms as you.’
And no man had ever made her feel so vibrant with life. Her head was swimming.
A noise from nearby made him release her reluctantly.
‘We must talk more—in Voltavia,’ he said. ‘I leave tomorrow. You will follow me next week.’
It was more than she’d hoped for but she couldn’t help rebelling against this diktat. She wasn’t one of his subjects.
‘Will I indeed?’ she asked.
‘If you’re serious about what you’re after, yes. Be there on Wednesday. If not—’
‘I’ll be there,’ she said quickly, fearful of seeing the prize snatched away. ‘I promise.’
‘Of course,’ he said, amused. ‘There was never any question of your refusing. No, don’t be angry with me. I hold all the cards, and you know it.’
It would have been wonderful to take him down a peg, but she was too close to her dream to risk it. She took the arm he proffered and they walked sedately back along the terrace to the little table. Frederick was waiting for them, with the reminder of an ambassador’s wife who must be honoured. Daniel inclined his head graciously to Lizzie.
‘I shall be waiting,’ he said softly. ‘Don’t disappoint me.’
He walked away, leaving her to return to the ballroom on Frederick’s arm. She felt as though she was walking on air. The glittering professional prize had been held out to her. That, she told herself, was the reason for the swift beating of her heart. That, and no other reason.
But she was deceiving herself, and she knew it.
* * *
When the last guest had departed the King relaxed with a brandy and soda, indicating for Frederick, his most trusted aide, to join him.
‘Did she say anything of importance to you?’ Daniel asked.
‘Not a thing, sir. She replied to all my questions but revealed nothing at all.’
‘That’s no more than I expected. This is an extremely clever lady, but I have her measure.’ A wry smile broke over Daniel’s face. ‘She’s going to be a pleasure to do battle with. You know the plan?’
‘Yes, sir.’ Frederick took a deep breath before venturing to say, ‘You don’t think that this way of doing things is a little—a little…?’ His voice ran down as his nerve ran out.
Daniel took pity on him. ‘Devious, unprincipled, cold-blooded?’
Frederick ran a finger around his collar. ‘Those are Your Majesty’s words.’
‘Coward,’ Daniel said without rancour. ‘Yes, Frederick, I’m being all those things. But then, so is she. This is no ordinary lady. She’s sharp, shrewd, and utterly unscrupulous. So the only way I can fight her is to be the same.’
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