he leaned across the seat and placed his hand over her forearm, and Lisa hated the instant ripple of recognition which whispered over her skin the moment he touched her. Did he feel it, too—was that why he slid his thumb down to her wrist as if to count the beats of the rocketing pulse beneath?
‘Let me see you to your door,’ he said.
The set of his jaw told her that objection would be a waste of time and so she shrugged. ‘Suit yourself. But you’re not coming in.’
Luc made no comment as he accompanied her to her front door as he’d done what now seemed a lifetime ago. But this time there was no warmth and light gilding the summer evening into a golden blur which matched their shared desire. This time there was only the cold bite of a rainy night and a barely restrained sense of hostility. But she was pregnant, he reminded himself. Inside her beat the tiny heart of his own flesh and blood. And that changed everything.
Luc was not a sentimental man and emotion had been schooled out of him from an early age, but now he became aware of something much bigger than himself. He stared at her swollen frame with the realisation that here lay something more precious than all the riches in his entire principality. And he was shaken by just how badly he wanted it.
‘I don’t want to have to fight you to get what I want, Lisa,’ he said softly as they reached her door. ‘But if you force my hand then I’m afraid that’s what’s going to happen. Perhaps I should warn you now that it is better not to defy me.’
Her eyes narrowed like those of a cornered cat. ‘If only you could hear yourself!’ she retorted, unlocking her front door and pushing it open. ‘I can defy you all I like! I’m a free spirit—not your possession or your subject. This is the twenty-first century, Luc, and you can’t make me do something I don’t want to—so why don’t we resume this discussion in the cold light of day when you’re ready to see sense?’
His powerful body grew still and for one hopeful moment Lisa thought he was about to take her advice. But she was wrong. He lifted his hand to rake his fingers back through his rain-spangled hair and she hated the sudden erotic recall which that simple gesture provoked.
‘Your backer is a man called Martin Lawrence,’ he said slowly.
She didn’t ask how he knew. She didn’t show her surprise or foreboding as she raised her eyebrows. ‘And?’
‘And yesterday afternoon he sold all his interest in your business to me.’
It took her a few seconds to process this and once the significance hit her, she shook her head. ‘I don’t believe you,’ she said. ‘Martin wouldn’t do that. He wouldn’t. Not without telling me.’
‘I’m afraid he did.’ A cynical smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. ‘The lure of money is usually enough to eclipse even the most worthy of principles and I offered him a price he couldn’t refuse.’
‘You...bastard,’ she said, walking like a robot into her hallway, too dazed to object when he followed her and snapped on the harsh overhead light. But this time there were no frantic kisses. No barely controlled hunger as they tore at each other’s clothes. There was nothing but a simmering mistrust as Lisa stared into his unyielding blue eyes. ‘So what are you planning to do?’ she questioned. ‘Dramatically cut my funds? Or slowly bleed me dry so that you can force me into closure?’
‘I’m hoping it won’t come to that,’ he said. ‘My acquisition of your business was simply a back-up. An insurance policy, if you like, in case you proved to be stubborn as I anticipated, which is exactly what has happened. But I have no desire to be ruthless unless you make me, Lisa. I won’t interfere with your business if you return to Mardovia with me as my wife.’
She shook her head. ‘I can’t do that, Luc,’ she breathed. ‘You know I can’t.’
‘Why not?’ His gazed bored into her. ‘Is it because I’m the wrong man? Are you holding out for Mr Right? Is that what this is all about?’
She gave a short laugh. ‘Mr Right is a fictional character created by women who still believe in fairy tales. And I don’t.’
‘Well, isn’t that just perfect, because neither do I. Which means that neither of us have any illusions which can be shattered.’
But his declaration gave Lisa little comfort. Her back was aching and her feet felt swollen. She walked into the tiny sitting room and slumped into one of the overstuffed armchairs without even bothering to put the light on. But Luc took control of this, too, following her and snapping on a lamp before drawing the curtains against the darkness outside. She found herself thinking that his servants must usually do this kind of thing for him and wondered what it must be like, to live his privileged life.
‘We don’t have to go through with a sham marriage,’ she said wearily. ‘I told you. We can do this the modern way and share custody. Lots of people do. And given all the wealth at your disposal, it will be easier for us to achieve than for most people.’ From somewhere she conjured up a hopeful smile. ‘I mean, it’s not like we’re going to be worried about whether we can afford to run two households, is it?’
But he didn’t respond to her feeble attempt at humour.
‘You’re missing the point,’ he said. ‘I have a duty to my people and the land I was born to rule. Mardovia’s stability has been threatened in the past and the principality was almost destroyed as a result. It cannot be allowed to happen again and I will not let it. This child is the future of my country—’
‘What? Even if it’s a girl?’
He went very still. ‘Do you know the sex of the baby?’ he questioned.
Lisa thought about lying. Of saying she was going to have a girl in the hope that the macho rules which seemed to define him would make him reconsider his demand that she marry him. But she couldn’t do that. It would be a cheap move to use their baby as a pawn in their battle, and she sensed it wouldn’t make any difference.
She shook her head. ‘No. I told the sonographer I didn’t want to know. I didn’t like the idea of going through a long labour without even the promise of a surprise at the end. A bit like getting your Christmas presents and discovering that nobody had bothered to wrap them.’
He smiled at this and, inexplicably, Lisa felt herself softening. As if nature had programmed her to melt whenever the father of her child dished out some scrap of affection. And she couldn’t afford to melt.
‘Whatever the sex of the baby, there’s no reason why the act of succession cannot be re-examined some time in the future,’ he said and walked across the room towards her, towering over her, his muscular body completely dominating her line of vision. ‘I am doing my very best to be reasonable here and I will do everything in my power to accommodate your desires, Lisa. And before you start glowering at me like that, I wasn’t referring just to physical desires, though I’m more than happy to take those into account.’
Lisa could feel her face growing hot and her breasts beginning to prickle. And the most infuriating thing of all was that right then she wanted him to touch them again. To cup and fondle them and flicker his tongue over them. She wanted him to put his hand between her legs and to ease the aching there. Was it normal for a pregnant woman to feel such a powerful sense of desire?
‘I can’t do that,’ she said in a low voice. ‘My life is here. I can’t leave my little niece, or
