Dr Gautier flicked through the file which lay on the desk before him before fixing his eyes firmly on Luc.
‘I am assuming that Your Royal Highness already knows the sex of the baby?’ he questioned.
Did Luc hear Lisa’s intake of breath? All he had to do was to ask the doctor what he wanted to know and it would be done. The fact would be out there. Lisa swallowed. Some people might think she was being awkward in not wanting this particular piece of information, but it was important to her. It felt like her last remnant of independence and the only control she had left over her life.
‘My wife doesn’t wish to know,’ said Luc, meeting her eyes with a faintly mocking expression. ‘She wants it to be a surprise on the day.’
‘Very sensible,’ said the doctor, turning to ask Lisa if there was anything she wanted to know.
The questions she wanted to ask were not for the obstetrician’s ears. Nor for the ears of the husband sitting beside her.
How soon can I return to England after the birth?
When will Luc let me leave him?
Or the most troubling of all.
Will I ever stop wanting a man who sees me only as the vessel which carries his child?
But some of Lisa’s fears left her that day and she wasn’t sure why. Was it Luc’s simple courtesy in not demanding to know the sex of their baby? Or that meaningless little squeeze of her hand which had made her relax her defences a little? Afterwards, when they were back in their suite, she turned to him to thank him and the baby chose that moment to deliver a hefty kick just beneath her ribs. Automatically, she winced before smiling as she clutched her stomach and when she looked into Luc’s face, she was surprised by the sudden longing she read in his eyes.
She asked the question because she knew she had to, pushing aside the thought that it was a somehow dangerous thing to do—to invite him to touch her. ‘Would you like to...to feel the baby kick?’
‘May I?’
She nodded, holding her breath as he laid his hand over her belly and they waited for the inevitable propulsion of one tiny foot. She heard him laugh in disbelief as a tiny heel connected with his palm and, once the movement had subsided, she wondered if he would now do what her body was longing for him to do—and continue touching her in a very different way. She thought how easy it would be. He could move his hand upwards to cup a painfully engorged breast and slowly caress her nipple with the pad of his thumb. Or downwards, to slide his fingers between her legs and find how hot and hungry she was for him.
But he didn’t.
He removed his hand from her belly and although she silently cursed and wanted to draw him back to her, she was in no position to do so. She wondered if she had been too hasty in rejecting him, particularly when she hadn’t realised he could be so kind. And she was fast discovering that kindness could be as seductive as any kiss.
Maybe that was the turning point for Lisa. The discovery that as the days passed the palace stopped feeling like a prison. Or maybe it was a direct result of Luc’s sudden announcement that he had a surprise for her. One morning after breakfast, he led her through the endless maze of corridors to a part of the palace she hadn’t seen before, where he opened a set of double doors, before beckoning her inside.
‘Come and take a look at this,’ he said. ‘And tell me what you think.’
Lisa was momentarily lost for words as she walked into an airy studio overlooking the palace gardens. She glanced around, trying to take it all in—because in it was everything a dress designer could ever desire. On a big desk were pencils and paints and big pads of sketch paper. There was a computer, a sophisticated music system, a tiny kitchen and even a TV.
‘For when you get bored,’ Luc drawled. ‘I wasn’t sure if artwork on the walls would inspire you or distract you—but if you’d like some paintings, then speak to Eleonora and she’ll arrange for you to have something from the palace collection.’ He searched her face with quizzical eyes. ‘I hope this meets with your satisfaction?’
It was a long time since anyone had done something so thoughtful. Something just for her and Lisa felt overwhelmed—a feeling compounded by the way Luc was looking at her. His skin was glowing and his black hair was still ruffled from the horse ride he liked to take before breakfast each morning. Which she guessed explained why he was never there when she woke up. Why on more than one occasion she’d found herself rolling over to encounter nothing but a cool space where his warm body should have been.
Because he had spoken the truth. It was a big bed. Big enough for two people to share it without touching. For them to lie side by side like two strangers. For her to be acutely aware of his nakedness, even though she couldn’t actually see it. Yet as the dark minutes of the night ticked by—punctuated only by the rhythmical sounds of Luc’s steady breathing—Lisa was furious with herself for wanting him to make love to her. Wondering why hadn’t he even tried to change her mind? Was her swollen belly putting him off? More than once she had wondered what he would do if she silently moved to his side of the bed. She could put her hand between his legs and start to caress him in that way he liked. She swallowed. Actually, she had a pretty good idea what he’d do...
‘I love it,’ she said softly, cheeks flushing with embarrassment at her erotic thoughts as she lifted her gaze from the pencils lined up with military precision. ‘Thank you.’
There was a pause as their eyes met. An infinitesimal pause when Lisa thought she saw his mouth relax. A moment when his eyes hinted at that flinty look they used to get just before he kissed her. She held her breath. Hoping. No, praying. Thinking—to hell with all her supposedly noble intentions. He was her husband, wasn’t he? He was her husband and right then she wanted him with a hunger which was tearing through her body like wildfire. He could make love to her right now—she was sure he would be gentle with her. She felt the molten ache of frustration as she imagined him touching her where she was crying out to be touched.
But just like always, he moved away from her. Only by a fraction, but it might as well have been a mile. She found her cheeks growing even pinker; she walked over to one of the pristine drawing pads in an effort to distract herself. ‘I’ll start work on my next collection right away,’ she said.
He turned to leave but at the door, he paused. ‘Has Eleonora told you about the May Ball?’
Lisa shook her head. No. That was something Eleonora must have missed during daily conversations, which usually managed to convey how matey Princess Sophie’s father had been with Luc’s father, and about the blissful holidays the two families used to enjoy on the island of Isolaverde.
‘No,’ she said slowly. ‘I don’t believe she did. Anyway, shouldn’t it have been you who told me?’
He raised his eyebrows. ‘I’m telling you now,’ he said, with a trace of his customary arrogance. ‘It’s something of a palace tradition. The weather is always fine and the gardens are at their loveliest. It will be the perfect opportunity for you to meet the great and the good. Oh, and you might want to wear some jewels from the royal collection. Speak to Eleonora and she’ll show you.’
Lisa forced a smile. She seemed to do nothing but speak to Eleonora, but she nodded her head in agreement. And after Luc had gone, she emailed her sister and asked for some new photos of Tamsin, before taking herself off into the palace grounds for a walk.
The gardens were exquisite. Not just the rose section or the intricate maze which led onto the biggest herb garden she’d ever seen, but there were also high-hedged walkways where you could suddenly turn a corner and find some gorgeous marble statue hidden away. Yet today Lisa had to work hard to focus on the beauty of her surroundings because all she could think about was Luc’s attitude towards her. He could do something immensely kind and thoughtful like surprising her with a new studio or bring her tea in bed, but he seemed content to keep her at arm’s length and push her in the direction