been a long time,’ Ria managed to choke out, her throat dry with tension and need. ‘I missed …’
But a sudden rush of self-preservation had her catching up the words in shock, clamping her mouth tight shut against what she had almost revealed. The heady rush of sensuality had driven common sense so far from her mind but she needed to grab it back now—and quickly. Alexei was no longer even her friend. He was the man who held her future and that of her country in his hands, even if he didn’t know it yet.
In the strong, sensual hands that had been creating such electric pulses of pleasure in her body only a moment before. Pulses she wanted to feel more of. That made her whole body ache with need. But she must deny herself such caresses even though her whole body screamed in protest at the thought of stopping now, here, like this, when every nerve had suddenly come alive and awake in a whole new way. She had to remember why she was here.
‘You—you’ve been missed,’ she managed, though her voice shook on the words, betraying the effort she was making to get them out. And then, suddenly aware of how that might sound—that he could interpret it as meaning she was telling him just how much she had missed him—she rushed on. ‘You’ve been missed in Mecjoria.’
The sound of that name brought exactly the reaction she feared. She felt the new tension in the long body pressed against hers as he stilled, withdrawing from her immediately, his hands freezing, denying her the shivers of pleasure that had radiated out from his touch.
‘I doubt that very much,’ he muttered, his voice rough and harsh so that it scraped over her rawly exposed nerves. ‘I don’t think that could ever be true.’
‘Oh, but it is!’ Ria protested, forcing herself to go on because this was what she had come here for after all. ‘You’re missed in Mecjoria—and wanted and needed there.’
‘Needed?’
Her heart sank as he pushed himself away from her to stand looking down into her face with icy onyx eyes, all fire, all warmth fading from them in the space of a heartbeat. She had done what she needed to do, turned things back on to the real reason why she was here, so that at last she could tell him just why she had come to find him. But she felt lost and alone, her body suddenly cold and bereft without the heat and power of his surrounding it; her skin, her breasts, her lips cooling sharply as the imprint of his whipcord strength evaporated into the cool of the afternoon air.
She’d lost him again. That much was obvious from one swift glance at his face, seeing the way it had closed off against her, black eyes opaque and expressionless, revealing nothing. His only movement was when his hand went to his throat, tugging at the tie around his neck as if it was choking him. He pulled it loose, flicked open the top button on his shirt, then another, as if just one was not enough. And the restless movement was enough to draw her eyes, make her watch in stunned fascination.
No, that was a mistake—a major mistake. Looking into those deep-set black eyes, she suddenly saw a new light, a darkly burning, disturbing light in their depths, and it warned that there was more to this than anything she might have anticipated already. Memory swung her back to the scene of just moments before. Then, pinned up against the wall with his hands hot on her, she had known exactly what he wanted. And she had been dangerously close to giving it to him, with no thought of her own sanity or safety. Her body still tingled with the aftershocks of that encounter, the taste of him still lingered on her mouth. If she licked her lips she revived the sensation, almost as if he had just kissed her again. And oh, dear heaven, but she wanted him to kiss her again.
‘There is no one there who would miss me and as for anyone who might want me for any reason whatsoever …’
‘Oh, but you’re wrong there. You really are.’
But how did she convince him of that? If there was anything that brought home to her how difficult her task was then this office, this building, was it. She didn’t need to be told how much Alexei had made his new life here in England. More than a new life, his fortune, his home. And it was plain from the way he spoke of Mecjoria that his father’s country meant nothing to him. Did she even have the right to ask him to give this up?
She didn’t know. But the one thing she was sure of was that she didn’t have the right to keep it from him. The decision, whatever it was, had to be his.
‘I’ll make it easy for you, shall I?’ Alexei drawled cynically. ‘Twice now you have told me that I am wanted—and needed—in Mecjoria. You have to be lying.’
‘No lie. Really.’
‘You expect me to believe that I am needed in the country that rejected me as not fit to be even the smallest part of the royal family? Needed by the place that has disowned and ignored me for the past ten years?’
The only response Ria could manage was a sharp, swift nod of her head. She couldn’t persuade her voice to work on anything else.
‘Then you’ll have to explain. Needed as what?’
‘As …’
Twice Ria opened her mouth to try to get the words out. Twice she failed, and it was only when Alexei turned his narrow-eyed glare on her and muttered her name as if in threat that she forced herself to speak, bringing it out in a rush.
‘As—as their king. You’re needed to take the throne of Mecjoria now that Felix is dead.’
CHAPTER FOUR
AS THEIR KING.
The words hit like a blow to the head, making Alexei’s thoughts reel. Had he heard right?
You’re needed to take the throne of Mecjoria now that Felix is dead.
Whatever else he had expected, it had not been that. She had made it plain that she and her family had suffered some strong reversal of their fortunes in the upheaval that had followed the struggles over the inheritance of the Mecjorian crown. She had come here to ask for help, that much was obvious. Softening him up by producing the proof of his legitimacy first. Perhaps to play on the fact that they had once been friends in order to get him to use his fortune to help, rescue her family. Why else would she be here?
Why else would she have responded to his kisses as she had?
Because even as he had felt her mouth opening under his, the soft curves of her body melting against him, he had known that she was only doing this for her own private reasons.
Known it and hadn’t cared. He had let her lead him on in that way because he’d wanted it. No woman had excited him, aroused him so much with a single kiss. And there had been plenty of women. His reputation as a playboy had been well earned, and he had had a lot of fun earning it. At least at the beginning. It was only after Mariette—and Belle—that everything had changed. His mind flinched away from the memory but there was no getting away from the after-effects of that terrible day. His appetites had become jaded; his senses numbed. Nothing seemed to touch him like before. There was no longer the thrill of the chase.
Not that he had to do any chasing. Women practically threw themselves at him and he could have his pick of any of them simply by saying the right word, turning a practised smile in their direction. He was under no illusions; he knew it was his position and wealth that was such a strong part of the attraction. That and the bad-boy reputation that haunted him like a dark shadow. So many women wanted to be the one who tamed him. But not one
