‘I think you’re wonderful,’ she said before she could help herself, and the world stood still.
His eyes darkened once more. She saw passion flare and burn. ‘So this invitation I’m thinking of issuing… ’ he murmured.
‘When?’ she asked, still breathless, but no longer worrying about an irrelevant thing like breathing.
‘I’m getting to that,’ he said reprovingly. ‘Patience, my love. Official invites take time. I need to melt the wax for the seal… Oh, I’ll have to find some wax. You don’t happen to have a candle about you?’
‘I don’t believe I do. And I certainly don’t have time to search for one.’
‘You don’t?’
‘Not the way I’m feeling.’
‘So… ’ His hold tightened. ‘If I were to send this invitation without an official seal… If I were to request an RSVP by return post… ’
‘You might get it faster than you expected.’
‘Really?’
‘Really,’ she whispered. ‘Right about… now.’
‘Now?’ His hands were in the small of her back, tugging her closer, closer. ‘Now, my love?’
‘Maybe,’ she whispered.
‘And what might this RSVP say?’
‘Ooh,’ she whispered. ‘I’d have to think about it.’
‘Think fast.’
She thought fast. She could think without breathing. ‘I guess it’d say something along the lines of: Her Majesty, Princess Lily Sophia Mykonis, is delighted to receive the very gracious invitation of said prince and accepts with pleasure.’
‘Does she just.’ She could feel his pleasure. She could feel his heat. The world outside had ceased to exist. There was only each other.
How had they done it? How had they turned a sedate domestic scene—feeding her baby—into passion, just like that?
But there was no mistaking what had happened. Her knees felt distinctly wobbly, but there was no longer a need for them to stay firm. Alex was sweeping her up into his arms, holding her against him, his dark eyes possessing her, loving her, wanting her.
Her prince.
‘About place and time… ’ he murmured.
‘Subject to negotiation, wouldn’t you say?’
‘Okay, let’s negotiate. First factor—time. Is now okay with you?’
‘I don’t believe I have any pressing appointments.’
‘Excellent.’ His dark eyes gleamed. ‘Place?’
‘Maybe not here,’ she said, somewhat reluctantly.
‘We might corrupt our son,’ he said, and those two words… our son… were so sexy that her insides felt quivery along with her knees. All of her felt quivery.
‘See that adjoining door?’ he murmured, and she looked up and saw the door and her eyes widened.
‘You don’t mean… ’
‘I do mean.’ He was laughing again. She loved it when he laughed.
‘You had this planned!’
‘I did not,’ he said, wounded. ‘But, as a good father, I thought I might be expected to take a turn at night duty. I thought if I was to lie awake at night listening for my son then I’d need to be near. Really near. So I allocated you this apartment.’
‘You’re saying your bed is right through that door?’
‘Right through that door. If it’s grand enough for you.’
‘I can make do,’ she said serenely. ‘But I don’t mind a bit of glitz. The last time I… The last time we made love, I believe you were sleeping at the castle. Under a chandelier, if I remember correctly.’
‘I was there as my uncle’s heir,’ he said. ‘He liked glitz. He also expected me to act as his deputy, so I was on duty.’
‘But you’re not on duty now.’
‘I’m delegating responsibility to my son.’ He grinned. ‘I like the idea of delegating. If there’s armed insurrection before the morning, Michales is responsible for waking me up and ringing the newspapers.’
She choked.
‘I love it when you laugh,’ he whispered and it was so much what she was thinking that she gasped.
‘What?’ he demanded.
‘I guess… laughter from you is a real turn-on as well,’ she admitted.
‘You like it when I laugh?’
‘I love it when you laugh.’
‘So we should find ourselves a good piece of slapstick on television?’
‘We could,’ she said cautiously.
‘But I can think of something better,’ he growled and he walked across and kicked the door open. It wasn’t even properly closed, Lily thought, and she couldn’t figure whether she was shocked or delighted.
But then she thought again. Definitely delighted. For Alex was carrying her across to his bed and laying her on the counterpane as if she were the most exquisite thing he’d ever touched.
‘I’m sorry there’s no chandelier,’ he whispered.
‘I can cope. As long as there’s laughter,’ she said, breathless again. When he looked like that…
It was still too soon, the sane part of her brain whispered. Sense said she needed to taste freedom first.
But not now. Not when the rest of her brain was disagreeing. Not as he was tugging his shirt free, baring his chest, making her gasp…
‘Laughter,’ he said, agreeing. Smiling and smiling. ‘Okay, my love, here we go. Two sausages in a pan. One turns to the other and says, “Gee, it’s hot in here.” What does the other one say?’
He was loving her with his eyes. He was smiling down at her with that wicked, laughing smile—and he was waiting for an answer to his dumb riddle. ‘I don’t know,’ she whispered, choking with laughter and something else entirely. ‘What does the other one say?’
‘“Bless my soul, it’s a talking sausage!”’ he said, and he grinned like a seven-year-old cracking his first riddle. It was so ridiculous she found herself laughing with him.
While hungering for him with every nerve
