remembered her own experience, and especially the brief period when she had gone to the local school before being sent off to boarding school. It was there that she had realised for the first time that her life was different from other people’s.
How vividly she remembered the empty ache inside when her classmates had been met by their mothers at the school gates instead of an uncaring au pair or stony-faced nanny. And even more poignant had been the stories they used to relate—of mothers who bathed them and made cakes for them, and fathers who played with them, taught them how to swim and climb a tree. She had only ever seen her parents at bedtime, when she was all washed and in her pyjamas to say goodnight—and sometimes not even then. Did she really want that for her own children? And times had changed…even for Royal families. Wouldn’t Gianferro long to have a closeness with his offspring which had never been there for him?
‘It might be nice to be a little bit hands-on with them,’ she suggested lightly.
Gianferro kissed the tip of her nose. ‘That will not, I think, be either possible or desirable. Our children will be brought up the way of all Royal children. And besides, you will not have time.’ His dark eyes crinkled. ‘There will be many charitable institutions which will require your patronage. Do not worry, sweet Millie—there will be plenty to keep you busy.’
It was a horrible phrase. Keep you busy. It implied that she would be filling in time, instead of embracing it fully, and it was worrying, for it was not how she imagined her future to be.
‘I see,’ she said slowly.
Gianferro could hear her faint note of disapproval and he frowned. How demanding women could be! She might be young and unspoiled but, like all women, she required symbols of her position in his life. Not diamonds, in her case, but…
‘And we must not forget your horse, of course,’ he said softly, with the air of a man who had pulled a rabbit out of a hat.
Millie blinked. ‘My horse?’
The corners of his mouth edged upwards into a small smile of satisfaction which accompanied the sudden anticipatory gleam of pleasure in his black eyes. ‘I told you that you would have the finest mount money can buy, and so you shall, Millie. I had intended to keep it as a surprise, but since you are obviously dissatisfied—’
‘But I’m not—’
He cut through her protest as if she hadn’t spoken. ‘Then I see no reason to keep you in suspense. During the second week of our honeymoon I intend to take you to my stables on the western side of the island—which are world-class, incidentally.’
‘Yes, I’ve heard of them,’ said Millie, in a small voice.
‘And there you shall choose a horse to bring back to the Rainbow Palace with you.’ He watched her carefully, for her reaction was not the one he had been expecting. He knew how much she loved horses—so why was she not flinging her arms about his neck and thanking him? Did she not realise the honour he was according her? Why, there were top breeders who would give up everything they possessed to own one of the horses he was offering her! ‘You are not pleased with the idea, Millie?’
She heard the coolness in his voice and attempted to redress the balance. She couldn’t expect him to understand her doubts and her fears, and to express them would sound like whining defeatism. If you took the Royal part out of their situation, it helped put things in perspective. Because when it boiled down to it they were just two adults starting out on married life together—and communication was vital if the journey was to be a rich and fulfilling one. ‘No, I am pleased—I’m delighted, if you want the truth, Gianferro!’
She was going to have to tell him about the Pill. He wasn’t a Neanderthal—he was a sophisticated man of the world. And, yes, he might have a perfectly understandable desire to give Mardivino an heir—but surely he was also reasonable enough to be prepared to wait…even for a few months?
‘Gianferro—’
‘I know.’ He anticipated her next words. ‘You are worried about riding while with child, and I share your fears. I think that as soon as you become pregnant the riding will have to be curtailed until after the birth—no matter what the current thinking is! But abstinence only increases the hunger—and when you finally get back in the saddle it will be with an even greater excitement, that I can guarantee.’
He smiled, recalling his own self-imposed abstinence. The sacrifices he had made! He had not taken a lover for over a year—it had seemed morally wrong when he was actively seeking a bride. And of course once he had found one he had felt morally bound to continue, enduring the test on his sensual appetite as he waited until after the wedding. He stroked Millie’s breast and felt her shiver. The wait had been well worth it!
Millie lay there, listening to his words with a mounting feeling of disbelief and panic. He had it all worked out. No compromise, no negotiation at all. And it pained her to admit it, but she knew that it was true…there was no room for negotiation in Gianferro’s mind. He knew what he wanted and he intended to have it. And he expected her to be grateful for a couple of months of riding before she faded even more into the background of his life once he had made her pregnant!
But she was in the situation now, and it was pointless to try to rail against him on a subject which was clearly so important to him and on which he clearly would not budge. He wanted an heir and she was perfectly happy to give him one. Just not yet. What harm could it do if she waited a while? Lots of couples had to wait before a baby came. Why, they would get lots and lots of practice!
Millie felt her body respond as he continued to stroke her, the clamour of her senses smoothing down the sharp edges of panic in her mind. They would get close this way, she told herself. Closer and closer, until all the barriers fell.
She closed her eyes, and Gianferro felt a brief moment of triumph as he bent his head to kiss her. Had he not chosen her as much for her malleability as for her true innocence? She would learn that he would make the decisions—indeed was compelled to. That he knew best—for how could it be any other way, given the disparity in their individual experiences of the world?
Millie gasped as his mouth moved from lips to breast, his tongue flicking out to tease the hardening bud, and she clasped his dark head against her as pure pleasure shafted through her body.
He raised his head with a wicked smile which made her forget that he was a prince. Made her forget everything.
‘Do you like that, Millie?’ he murmured softly.
‘It’s…’ Millie swallowed, finding it overwhelming to cope with all these new feelings—both physical and emotional. Her response was forgotten as he moved his head down to her belly. And then beyond. ‘Gianferro!’ she gasped, as shock mingled with pure ecstasy.
He tasted her with pleasure, the squealing uninhibitedness of her response only adding to his own hunger, and as he felt her spasm and dissolve against his tongue he fleetingly thought how wonderful it was going to be. He would be the only man she would ever know—her skills would be honed for just him!
Afterwards, they lay silently for a while, and then Gianferro yawned. ‘We’d better think about getting ready for dinner,’ he murmured.
She snuggled against him. ‘I’m not hungry.’
‘Well, I am.’
‘Oh!’ She wriggled even closer to him, feeling as though she’d found paradise here in his arms and
