She was leaning heavily against her closed and locked bedroom door. It seemed too thin. It was no protection.
Sophia would protect her.
Not against herself.
This was Andreas she was talking about. She’d dreamed about Andreas for years. He was here. He wanted her. All she had to do was fall into his arms and be his princess.
See, there was the rub. It scared her so much that it overrode even the way her body reacted to his. She’d heard him tell of his family: his brutal father, his aristocratic mother and sisters, his brothers—sexy, powerful men who took what they wanted and held.
She knew nothing of their world. To give in to Andreas’s blackmailing—for that was what it was—was to abandon herself to his lifestyle; to give up all she’d ever known.
It was to abandon hope of going home. To Munwannay.
There was nothing there for her.
Her son’s grave was there. It was home.
Her home could be here.
As Andreas’s accessory? For that was what she’d be. She was fighting to get her breath back; fighting to make herself see sense. He’d made no declaration of love. He’d simply said he needed to marry her to get himself and his family out of a political mess. In return he’d pay for her father’s debts. Great. That left her… where?
They should have talked tonight. It should have been a business discussion, she thought, pressing the back of her hand against lips that felt swollen, bruised, still hot from his touch. Maybe they could work something out.
But how could they work out anything when the way she felt about him got in the way? There he was, outside talking calmly to Sophia, and she was in here like a trembling virgin.
And likely to stay here. For there was no way she was opening the door, when the minute she saw him sense gave way to…
Lust.
It was as simple as that.
Or was it?
The voices faded. There was a clink of glasses—that’d be Sophia clearing the table. Andreas would have gone. Where? To bed? To calmly think of what other ways he could coerce her to marry him?
Marriage to Andreas…
The thought was like watching the sky open—there was no way she could see through to the other side and the thought of what lay beyond was so unimaginable that she couldn’t do it. To hurl herself into the unknown… It seemed unthinkable.
But she had to think about it. She had to go to bed now and calmly consider whether such a marriage was possible. Andreas had said his country depended on their marriage. That was very well, but he was looking out for his country. He had his whole kingdom looking out for him—and she was alone.
She left the door and sidled to the drapes of the windows overlooking the pool. She slipped one back just a little so she could see.
Yes, Sophia was there, calmly gathering glasses. She looked up as the chink of light behind the curtains revealed she was being watched.
She straightened and met Holly’s look full on. And then she smiled. And winked. And put down her tray of glasses, put both hands in the air and crossed her fingers.
Then she calmly went on gathering glasses.
Holly smiled.
No, she wasn’t completely alone. She had one ally. Maybe… just maybe…
Just maybe one ally wasn’t enough. She had to figure this out. She wasn’t about to step into a royal goldfish bowl without knowing the facts.
They had to keep their hands off each other and they had to talk.
Talking was never going to work. How the hell could he talk her into something when he couldn’t make sense to himself? He couldn’t think past the fact that she was Holly and he wanted her so badly he was practically on fire.
He’d been raised to think marriage was a duty. Royal marriages were political gamesmanship. Passion was something you had on the side. His parents’ marriage had been loveless. Even when he’d been with Holly all those years before, when they’d talked wildly about running away, the duty that had been instilled in him since birth took precedence.
But now… suddenly he was in a situation where he was being ordered to marry a woman who set him on fire.
Take it easy. Act with care. This was too precious to mess with.
But he couldn’t take time. The hounds were baying. Sebastian would be here himself any minute to marry them by force if he didn’t get this right, and he knew enough of his brother to believe that force was an option. Sebastian cared about his country in a way their father never had. He’d make a good king, and if all that stood between him and that kingdom was a slip of a girl…
Hell.
He walked out of the pavilion, down to the beach. He had so little time. Holly said she needed thinking space—she did. But he couldn’t afford to sit back and wait for her to come to her verdict.
So what to do, short of firing Sophia, hammering down Holly’s bedroom door and taking things to their natural conclusions. Which might not exactly work against Holly’s spirited will. He’d known her as a girl, proud, independent, strong. She’d lost none of it; had gained more.
She was a woman in a million. He wanted her.
So tell her. Make love to her in the literal sense.
She’d believe him why? He’d been married to Christina. He hadn’t been in contact with Holly for years. How could he persuade her how he felt, when he didn’t know how he felt himself?
He did know how he felt. He stopped and stared out over the moonlit sea.
He wanted this woman. He wanted her more than life itself. If he had time he’d woo her as she ought to be wooed. He’d love her as she deserved to be loved.
So compress it. See what you can do in the time you have available. Think, man. He had to talk her into a short-term marriage at least. That’d buy him time.
He’d brought her here as his captive. What would keep her?
He forced himself to keep walking, thinking back to all the things he knew of the Holly he’d once loved. He conjured up her memory. Holly, wild and free. Holly, meeting him that first morning when her father had brought him home, coming out to the veranda, her old dog by her side.
He stopped.
It was a wild thought. Stupid. Sentimental. But this was no ordinary need. What was needed was a gesture.
He was already turning back to the pavilion. He had work to do this night. Thank God for the Internet. Thank God for servants back on the mainland. He’d wake half the palace up to get what he needed.
So little time…
He had to move.
IT WAS ten in the morning before Holly ventured to open her bedroom door. Sophia was sweeping the tiles around the pool—normally something Nikos did. Holly had been listening to her singing as she worked for the last hour and she’d finally figured Sophia was giving her reassurance that it was fine to come out. Not that she felt very reassured, but the moment she opened the door, she was.
‘He’s gone,’ Sophia said and Holly gasped.
‘G… gone.’
‘He says he should be back tonight but he commands you not to worry.’
‘Not to worry… What sort of a command is that?’
‘He