Claiming His Royal Heir Page 11

  He took a swig of his champagne and listened for the strains of music flowing over the crowds from the adjoining ballroom.

  “Cavaller.” A female masked in shimmering green sequins greeted him in the old style.

  “At your service, madame.” He kissed her hand, which was soft and scented, but not Stella’s.

  He knew exactly where Stella was right now. Standing on the far side of the room in a blue dress and matching mask. He’d determined to ignore her all night—shame he couldn’t take his eyes off her.

  The hurt and fury raging in his blood made him almost want her to flirt with another man so he could be angry and call her a tease and despise her for cheating on him. But so far she’d spoken only to women and men over the age of seventy.

  “Your masked ball is a sensation, as always.” The lady in green had a deep, seductive voice that he didn’t quite recognize.

  “You’re too kind. Would you honor me with a dance?”

  Her dark eyes glittered behind her mask. “I’d be delighted.”

  He slid his arm through hers and risked a glance at Stella to see if she’d noticed. Irritation rippled through him that she was deep in conversation with one of the town’s elderly librarians and not paying any attention to him.

  He tightened his arm around the waist of his companion’s green silk dress and guided her to the dance floor. He gave the band’s conductor the cue for a tango, and led her into the middle of the crowd as the first sultry strains swept through the room. He didn’t need Stella. He’d always enjoyed a full and exciting life and there was nothing to stop him continuing that. Stella had as much as given him permission.

  He twirled his partner and dipped her, and she flowed with the movements like hot butter, a smile curving on her red-painted mouth. Another lightning-fast glance at Stella revealed that she was watching him.

  Ha. He pressed his partner against him and executed several quick steps and another turn that made her dress sweep around him. His muscles hummed with the sheer joy of movement. Another glance confirmed that Stella’s eyes were still fixed on them, and he fought a triumphant smile. She might not love him, but she was certainly paying attention.

  After the dance his green-masked partner gratefully accepted a glass of champagne and offered to remove her mask and reveal her face.

  “Don’t take off your mask,” he murmured. “Tonight is for mysteries and magic.”

  “But I know who you are,” she protested. “Doesn’t it seem fair that you should know who I am?”

  “Perhaps life isn’t supposed to be fair.”

  “I suppose that’s a good attitude for a king. Not everyone can inherit a nation.” She hesitated and leaned closer. “Is it true that you’ve already sired an heir?”

  “It is.” He’d never deny Nicky.

  “Then you’ve chosen your bride, as well.” Her eyes shone with curiosity.

  “Who knows what the future will bring.” He picked up her hand and kissed it. His intention was to taunt Stella, though he managed to resist glancing at her to see if she was watching. He could feel her gaze on him like a touch.

  Even if she didn’t love him, Stella was deeply attracted to him and he’d be sure to stoke the fire of her passion when they were alone later tonight. In the meantime, apparently flirting and dancing with other women was an excellent aid to focusing her attention.

  “Hello.” A statuesque girl in silver with a long fall of blond hair and a pouting mouth touched his arm. “What a wonderful party.”

  He turned readily away from Ms. Green. “I’m pleased you’re enjoying yourself.”

  “Very much so.” Her eyes lit up inside her mask. “And I’ve always wanted to meet you. I’m—” She had a French accent.

  He pressed a finger to her lips. “Don’t spoil the enigma. Let’s dance.” He didn’t want to know who she was. He took her hand and led her into the crowd of dancers, where he whirled around with her, losing himself in the pleasure of the dance. Stella was only one woman in a world of millions.

  So why was she the only one he wanted?

  Stella shrank further into the shadows each time she saw Vasco smile at another woman, or kiss her hand. At first she couldn’t take her eyes off him when he danced. He moved with muscular grace and the skill of a professional dancer. Women seemed to melt into his embrace, and their besotted smiles dazzled her like car headlights when she made the mistake of looking at them.

  Did she really think she could be his one and only? Even if she hadn’t infuriated him with her little press leak, he’d still be dancing and flirting with other girls in his role as host. Women flocked to him like iron filings to a magnet. He wasn’t just rich and royal, he was gorgeous and mischievous and charming and obviously enjoyed their company. No wonder he didn’t want to marry her. Why would he give up all this to spend his life with her?

  Far too much to hope for. She was an ordinary book restorer from an ordinary suburb who lived a quiet, humdrum and happy existence until Vasco swept into it like the Santa Ana winds and made her realize how much she’d been missing until now.

  Thank goodness for the mask. It was hot and itchy but at least it hid her expression of despair. She’d been shamefully lax about looking for jobs—too busy enjoying her work here—and had barely kept in touch with anyone because she didn’t want to reveal too much about her situation. Maybe she just couldn’t bear to think about leaving.

  And there was Nicky. Instead of being gone eight hours at a stretch with him in day care, she could spend time with him every hour or two when she took a break, and in the meantime he received individual attention from people who adored him. They’d even arranged for some staff to bring their young children to the palace so he had playmates to laugh and sail his boat with. His vocabulary had gone from less than five words to full sentences in both English and Catalan, and his joy in his daily existence was undeniable. No more tears as she left him at day care, or endless colds that he picked up from the other kids.

  Could she pull him from this peaceful existence that suited him perfectly and drop him back into their old hectic routine again? If she could even find a job.

  A waiter offered her champagne and she shook her head. She needed to keep it clear as both of their lives depended on the decisions she’d make now.

  She didn’t relish the idea of Nicky being king, but it didn’t seem like such a hard life either, if things did work out that way. And if they didn’t, because Vasco married another woman…

  Fierce jealousy twisted her insides. It was physically painful to watch him laughing and talking with other girls, let alone marrying them and having children. At least if she went back to the States she wouldn’t have to see him and be tormented by what she wanted but couldn’t have. She knew Vasco had no legal rights to claim Nicky or even see him again. If she chose to, she could leave here tonight with her son and never look back.

  The prospect made her cold. She knew in her heart she could never do that to Nicky, or to Vasco. Now that the father she hadn’t intended for her son to have had manifested himself in their lives, she could see how much Nicky adored and looked up to him. Vasco himself had opened his home to them with such generosity and goodwill, and had thrown himself wholeheartedly into the role of father. In all honesty that was one of the reasons she’d fallen so hard in love with him, and she’d rather die than take his son away from him.

  So she and Nicky had to stay.

  A furtive glance across the crowded room found Vasco in the arms of yet another woman. Tall and wrapped in a slinky purple dress, her white mask flashing bright as her smile. Stella grimaced beneath her own festive disguise. She’d have to tell him that from now on they could no longer be intimate. She’d be an employee, like all the others, not his lover. She wasn’t cut out to be a royal mistress and she should know by now that she’d never be anything else if she stayed here.

  Clutching her sadness like a cloak about her, she slipped out of the room and into a quiet corridor. Vasco wouldn’t ev
en notice she was gone. He hadn’t said a word to her since the party began. No doubt he wanted to put an end to any rumors about them being involved, let alone married.

  She pulled off her mask, climbed up to her room and peered into Nicky’s adjoining one where tonight’s sitter, one of the palace cleaning staff, sat in a chair reading a thriller. “You can head off for the night. I’ll be here.” She managed a shaky smile.

  “Are you sure? I don’t mind staying until morning.” The young girl looked a little bashful. Everyone in the palace knew that all-night sitters were the order of the day because Stella spent her nights in the round tower with Vasco.

  But no more. “No thanks, I’ll be here.”

  She washed her face and put on the cotton pajamas she hadn’t worn in as long as she could remember. The bed felt cold as she climbed into it. She’d grown so used to having a warm body next to her that the sheets seemed empty and uninviting without one.

  She’d get used to it. She hugged her arms around herself and tried not to picture Vasco downstairs dancing with beautiful masked women. Would he take another of them to the round tower tonight? Or would he expect her to meet him there regardless of their argument?

  Rolling over, she pulled the covers over her head to block out the strains of music that crept into the room from the party. She’d managed just fine without Vasco for most of her life, and she’d be fine without him for the rest of it. Maybe she’d even find another man, a more sensible and reliable and ordinary guy with whom she could have a real relationship. Kings weren’t really cut out for modern relationships. They too readily expected everyone to be at their beck and call, and she’d certainly obliged so far.

  Though after Vasco it could prove very challenging to find anyone else appealing.

  She tossed and turned, listening over the faint music for Nicky’s sleeping sounds, but she couldn’t hear anything. He’d been in bed for hours and was a solid sleeper, so she couldn’t even distract herself by humming lullabies or stroking him to sleep. She needed someone to hum her lullabies, but clearly she’d have to make do without.

  There was usually a half-finished novel next to her bed for her to dip into at moments like this, but she hadn’t slept here for so long that she’d neglected to find one. She could sneak off to the library and bring back something to read—not all the books were ancient manuscripts—but then she’d run the risk of encountering party guests in her pajamas. Or worse, seeing Vasco creeping off to some turret with his mistress-of-the-minute.

  No. She’d have to tough it out here in bed. She’d resolved to stare at the dark ceiling until she either fell asleep or passed out, when she heard the door open.

  “Who’s there?” She sat up in a panic. Hadn’t she locked it?

  “You didn’t come to our room.” Vasco’s deep voice penetrated the darkness.

  Her chest tightened. He’d really expected her to go there after they argued and stayed apart all evening? “I thought I’d better sleep here.”

  “You’re angry with me.”

  Was that was he wanted? A jealous rage to gratify his male ego? “No, just sleepy.” She didn’t want him to know how upset she’d been by seeing him with those other women. She didn’t even know why. He hadn’t done anything but dance with them. She certainly didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of letting him know she cared.

  “Me too. It’s been a tiring night.”

  The room was too dark for her to see more than his outline, but she heard the sliding sounds of clothing being removed. She held her breath. Did he intend to come climb into her bed without an invitation? Her skin tingled under her cotton pajamas.

  She heard something hit the floor—his pants? Her heartbeat quickened and she scanned the darkness. His warm, masculine presence moved through the room toward her. She clutched the covers.

  “You can’t just come get in bed with me.” Her voice sounded shrill, like she was trying to convince herself.

  “Why not?”

  “I came here to be alone.”

  “Every time I danced with someone, I was thinking about you.” His soft voice crept through the darkness and caressed her. “I pretended I was holding you, moving with you. The masks made it a little easier, but nothing compares with the real thing.”

  She bit her lip in the dark. Already her muscles softened, forgiving him everything, wanting him close. When she felt his weight tip the mattress, she couldn’t bring herself to push him away. Then the covers lifted and he slid underneath. His thighs were warm, rough with hair, and his arms wrapped around her before she could summon the energy to resist. How arrogant of him to assume he’d be welcome! Yet the scent of him disturbed her senses and sent lust sizzling through her.

  “You need to take these off.” His fingers plucked at the buttons of her PJs. What if she didn’t want to take them off? Maybe she did want to sleep?

  Her body said otherwise. Already her muscles relaxed and her nipples tightened into peaks. Vasco slid her top off and kissed her firmly on the mouth before licking each nipple with his tongue. Passion stirred deep inside her and she found her hands clutching at his muscle and drawing him closer. Hard and ready, his erection only intensified her arousal.

  He’d danced with all those other women, but it was her he came looking for in the darkness, to spend the night with. Her heart sang at the truth of it, and their kisses filled her with feverish hope and joy.

  I love you. She wanted to say it but common sense prevented her. Vasco feared commitment—that was obvious—so he might be scared off by declarations of undying love. Still, what wouldn’t she give to hear it from him?

  He entered her slowly, kissing her with measured passion. His movements were restrained, slow, his hips barely shifting and his hands holding her still, so that she could feel every beat of both their hearts and feel each breath that filled their lungs. They lay there, suspended in time, senses fully engaged and aroused, bodies moving as one. Her anger and hurt had evaporated, replaced by joy and excitement that stirred her body and mind.

  Her demand for marriage felt foolish now. What did some official piece of paper matter when it was so obvious they were meant to be together? Vasco didn’t have to tell her in mere words that he loved her. She could feel it in his touch, in a language much more subtle and ancient than any of the ones she’d learned to speak.

  They started to move again, this time with a fevered energy that made her gasp and shiver with desire. They rolled together on the bed, taking turns driving each other to new heights of arousal and intense emotion. The music from downstairs now seemed an accompaniment to their erotic dance, a celebration of their private passion. None of those people downstairs mattered anymore, just the two of them, traveling further and further out onto a peninsula of bliss.

  Her climax swept over her in a cool shiver of ecstasy, and she felt Vasco explode inside her, gripping her with force and murmuring her name over and over again.

  I love you. Again the words hovered behind her lips, but she didn’t need to say it. She’d told him with her body, as he’d told her. There was no mistaking the connection that joined them. They shared a child, but more they shared something less tangible but just as precious in its own way.

  “I missed you tonight.” His whispered confession made her smile.

  “I missed you, too. I thought you were mad at me.”

  “I was. Mad at you, mad about you.” He kissed her lips softly. “I wanted to make you jealous.”

  “It worked. I wanted to dance with you.”

  She gasped as Vasco’s strong arms whipped her out of bed and onto her feet. The cool stone shocked her soles, but his arms wrapped around her like a blanket as he guided her into a dance in the dark bedroom. Music still swirled in through the doors and windows, caressing them with its delicate notes. A strong partner, Vasco pressed her against him as he moved across the floor of the large bedroom, whirling her round and round, so light on his feet they might be floating.

  With her chest pressed
against his, naked and still warm from lovemaking, she followed his motion effortlessly. Eyes closed, she imagined them gliding through the crowds, then through the clouds, a perfect partnership.

  “Whatever you wish, my lady.” He twirled her one last time, then pulled up her hand to kiss it.

  “Except marriage.” The words flew out before she could stop them. Immediately she wished she could inhale them back inside her.

  Vasco stiffened, still holding her. She felt him draw away, even though he didn’t move. She’d broken the spell that held them together with her petty worldly concerns. “You should be glad. You’ve made it clear that we won’t be getting married.” His voice was quiet.

  She was tempted to say she’d only done it in the hopes that he’d change his mind, but that would just make her look pathetic. If Vasco wanted to marry her, it would just happen. He was like that, a thunderstorm in motion. She’d been swept along on its high winds and pierced by its lightning bolts enough to know that. How else had she ended up living here in a strange country within weeks—days, really—of meeting him?

  Now he did pull back a little, putting a couple of inches of darkness between them. “I’d like to formalize my relationship with Nicky. I want to be his true father in the eyes of the law.”

  Her chest tightened. “I don’t imagine that will be too hard since you can change the laws anytime you feel like it.”

  She could swear she saw his smile gleam, despite the lack of light. It must be quite something to have that much power. Tempting to abuse it. She knew Vasco wasn’t a cruel man, but he could be arrogant and demanding. No doubt that came with the territory of being king.

  “I think a simple declaration will suffice. And perhaps a law confirming that children born out of wedlock can inherit the throne.” He sounded thoughtful.

  “I suppose that’s just keeping up with the times.” He wouldn’t even need her consent. The DNA tests had confirmed that he was Nicky’s father. She wouldn’t try to take Nicky away from him now. Her son adored his tireless and playful father.