The Prince's Secret Bride. Raye Morgan

nothing like Andrea. Her personality was very different as well. So why had she captured his imagination like no other woman had done for a long, long time?

      Throwing back his head, he groaned softly. He knew exactly what it was—he just had to face it.

      First, she was pregnant and at just about the same stage Andrea had been when she’d been killed. That just naturally reached out and twisted his heart in ways not much else could. He wanted to protect her, to keep the world and all its ugliness away from her, to make sure nothing happened before she delivered her baby. His own baby had died with Andrea. A double tragedy. A double outrage. The pain had been unbearable. If he had the power, he would make sure that never happened to anyone again.

      Okay, was that enough? Did that answer the questions roiling inside him? He lifted his glass and looked at the way a shaft of moonlight turned the drink inside to liquid gold and knew he hadn’t begun to give a full answer.

      Ah hell. He took another long sip and put the glass down on the table at his elbow. Maybe he’d had enough to drink now to be honest with himself.

      “She turns me on.”

      There. He’d said it. And now he hated himself.