until she was almost screaming with the intimate slippery abrasion of his body rubbing so closely against hers. She arched her back and suddenly everything fell into place. He was where she most wanted him, the deeper, longer strokes of his aroused length taking her to lift-off so that her senses finally soared into oblivion.
She was vaguely aware of his own release, the deep throb of his heart against her naked breasts as he pumped himself into her, his body collapsing like a wind-depleted sail as soon as it was over.
Amelia gently stroked the length of his back, amazed at how she had responded to him but even more amazed at how he had responded to her.
Alex lifted himself up on one elbow to look at her. ‘I hope this doesn’t sound like a line from that playboy manual you referred to the other night, but that was the most amazing experience I’ve had in years.’
Amelia ran her hand up and down his forearm in a tickling caress. ‘It does sound a bit like something on about page twenty-three, but I agree, it was amazing. Certainly nothing like I’ve ever experienced before.’
He let out a deep, contented sigh as she moved her fingers farther along his arm. ‘That feels nice. You have such soft hands.’
Amelia watched the pathway of her fingers as they went towards his elbow, her brow furrowing when she came to some tiny white, almost undetectable scars on the underside of his arm. ‘What did you do to yourself here?’ she asked.
He looked down at where she was pointing. ‘Oh, that. That was years ago. I had some laser work done.’
‘Laser work?’ She sat up and stared at him. ‘Laser work for what?’
‘I had a birthmark.’
She stared at him in shock. ‘A birthmark?’ she gasped.
He gave her a world-weary look. ‘And here I was thinking you were going to be different. That’s why I had it removed in the first place.’
‘Y-you had it removed?’ she croaked.
‘My ex-girlfriend Sarah hated it,’ he said with a curl of his lip. ‘So did a couple of other girlfriends in the past. Quite frankly I couldn’t see what the fuss was all about. It was only small and no one could see it unless I had my arm in a certain position.’
‘You had a birthmark?’ Amelia was aware she was still gaping at him but there was nothing she could do to stop it. ‘A strawberry birthmark?’
‘Don’t worry, Amelia, it’s not catching.’
‘But…but you don’t understand.’
He got off the bed and roughly disposed of the condom. ‘Oh, I understand all right. I’ve been dealing with this for years. What is it with women these days? A birthmark isn’t contagious. It’s not as if any children I sire will inherit it or anything.’
‘Alex—’
‘Don’t start, Amelia.’ He rounded on her. ‘I had enough of this from Sarah.’
Amelia knew she was still staring at him but she couldn’t seem to get her voice to work.
‘Ever heard of a copper bromide machine?’ he asked. ‘Or perhaps the newer V-beam machine used in laser and sclerotherapy clinics?’
Her eyes widened, her heart starting to hammer in her chest. ‘You mean for the…the removal of lesions?’
‘Lesions, pigmentation, spider veins, sun damage, broken capillaries and birthmarks can all be removed, without trace in some instances, with laser-beam therapy.’ He sounded as if he were reading it from a brochure.
The silence that fell was so heavy she felt it like a crushing weight against her chest. She could hardly breathe for the pressure, her lungs feeling as if they were full of lead instead of oxygen.
‘S-so…’ she moistened her parched lips ‘…so what you’re saying is you…you had a birthmark and…and h-had it removed?’
He nodded again. ‘I wouldn’t have bothered except a mate of mine set up a cosmetic surgery practice with a sclerotherapy clinic attached. Strawberry birthmarks are harder to remove if they’re not attended to while the person is young. The birthmark develops nodules over time which have to be surgically removed, hence the tiny scars.’
The silence was thrumming in Amelia’s ears. Her head seemed to be full of it, making it difficult for her to think, let alone speak.
‘Alex…I don’t know how to tell you this but the prince who was kidnapped thirty-four years ago had a birthmark. A very distinctive birthmark.’
He looked at her without speaking, but she could see the way his throat tightened, the muscles contracting as if he were trying to swallow something too big to go down.
‘Y-you know what this means…don’t you?’ she finally managed to ask as a sinking feeling settled in the middle of her stomach.
‘I’m not sure it means anything,’ he said in an offhand manner. ‘Lots of people have birthmarks.’
‘But don’t you see how it all makes sense?’ she asked. ‘You were adopted—a late adoption at two years of age, the exact age of the prince when he was supposedly murdered. You even had the same Christian name. People have remarked on your resemblance to Antonio and Marco Fierezza from the moment you stepped on the island. Don’t you see it all adds up?’
‘My birth certificate documents—’
‘Birth certificates can be forged!’ she interrupted him, her eyes wide with anguish. ‘Especially when lots of money changes hands.’
‘You seem to know an awful lot about all this,’ he observed with a slight narrowing of his eyes. ‘You said someone told you the prince wasn’t murdered. Was that person by any chance your father?’
Amelia felt the trickle of ice-cold dread make its way down her spine. She had desperately wanted to protect her family from the fallout from all of this, but how could she now? Alex had a right to know the truth. He had been denied all of his other rights since the age of two when he had been snatched from his parents. How could she stand by now and not tell him everything she knew?
‘Yes,’ she said on the back end of a wobbly sigh. ‘He knows he’s dying. My brother told him of the rumours down at the port. My father wants to see you.’
Alex blew out a breath and ran a hand through his hair as he began to pace the room. ‘This is totally surreal. I can’t believe any of this.’
‘I know it must be hard for you to grasp…but it’s real, Alex. It has to be. It all adds up.’ Tears burned in her eyes as she realised that what she was about to say would permanently sever any chance of a relationship between them. Their two worlds were now even farther apart and could never be bridged.
‘You aren’t simply Dr Alex Hunter, the visiting surgeon from Australia.’ She took a scalding breath and continued, ‘You are His Royal Highness Prince Alessandro Fierezza of Niroli, the next in line to the throne.’
CHAPTER ELEVEN
‘No,’ALEX
