‘You’re looking well,’ he said, stepping back and openly appraising her.
‘Thank you.’
‘No sickness?’
‘Not right now. It comes and goes.’
He gave a half-smile. ‘That must be difficult.’
‘I’ve been told it comes with the territory.’
Below them, the theatre was filling, the buzzing sound of pleasant chatter filling the air. The royal box had been specially designed for privacy, the curvature of the balcony allowing the occupants an unhindered view of the stage while protecting them, along with clever lighting, from prying eyes.
‘How long does this go on for?’ he asked as they took their seats.
‘About three hours including intervals.’
He didn’t bother hiding his grimace. ‘Have you seen this before?’
‘Oh, yes, it’s a beautiful story and perfect for the Christmas period.’ She looked at him and arched a brow, smothering the churn in her stomach at his obvious wish to be elsewhere. ‘Even if opera’s not your thing, I’m sure you can cope with my company for three hours. After all, you seemed happy with my company at Helios and Amy’s wedding. Or has the thrill gone now that you’ve slept with me?’
He ran his fingers through his hair, mussing it up in the same manner he had moments before he’d placed his lips against hers for the last time.
‘At this moment, the only thing I’m not happy about is spending three hours listening to ear-splitting wails being passed off as singing. I give you no guarantee I’ll stay until the end.’
‘So you don’t deny you have no interest in my company at all?’ She kept her voice even but the humiliation burned.
They were only supposed to have been for one night. They had both made that clear. No ties, no regrets. Catalina had imagined hugging their secret night close to her heart for the rest of her life and, as vain a hope as she now knew it to be, she’d imagined it would be the same for him too.
She’d thought—wished—that he would see the one positive of their marriage as being able to share a bed again.
She’d overestimated his boredom threshold.
‘You’re a beautiful, interesting woman. I doubt there’s a man alive who wouldn’t want to be in your company.’
‘But you’re not one of them.’
Nathaniel finally allowed himself to look at her properly. It was at moments like this that Catalina’s royal upbringing became transparent. There was a directness in her speech that, while not arrogant, was certainly assured. It was clear she was used to having direct questions answered. She was always beautiful, but tonight she looked stunning in a shoulderless figure-hugging long black satin dress with matching elbow-length gloves. Her raven hair had been curled and pulled into a chignon, long ringlets loosened to frame her porcelain face.
‘It was thinking with the anatomy below my waist and not my head that’s got us into this trouble. Now, why don’t you tell me what’s on your mind?’
A range of emotions flickered over her sweet, heart-shaped face but she held his gaze.
He truly would have to be dead from the waist down not to desire her. There had hardly been a moment since he’d left her room in the Agon palace when he hadn’t thought of her.
When they’d made love that night, she’d been a virgin. He’d taken things slowly, gently coaxing her eager responses. As a married couple, even with the imposed time limit, they would have all the time in the world to explore each other’s desires. To imagine peeling that dress off and discovering all her secret, hedonistic fantasies...
He couldn’t act on it.
Catalina was a princess, and that shone through her every word and deed. He should never have seduced her in the first place.
He’d impregnated her and caused a potentially terminal rift in her family. Further proof, as if it were needed, that he was rotten to his core. He would not allow himself to cause any more damage.
‘I suggested we meet here because I needed to be sure that we can speak freely,’ she said.
‘You don’t think that’s possible in the palace?’
‘I know it isn’t. There’s not a telephone conversation within the palace walls that isn’t recorded. My father and Dominic have spies everywhere.’
‘What are you worried about them hearing?’
Before she could answer, the theatre lights dimmed and the orchestra, set low in the pit before the stage, struck up. Then the curtains were drawn back and the production began.
Catalina waited until it had started in earnest before answering. Nathaniel was forced to lean in close to hear her above the noise, inhaling that irresistible scent in the process.
It was her scent that had captured his attention to begin with.
When he’d first met Catalina at a society party in France a number of years ago, her choice of perfume when he’d leaned in for the polite kisses on the cheek had intrigued him. She was the quintessential Princess, always dressed impeccably, graceful and elegant in both speech and manner. He would have expected a light floral perfume, something girlish and rather innocent. Yet she wore a sultry scent that evoked thoughts of long hot nights and dusky mornings.
He’d made love to her knowing she was a virgin. Again, she had confounded his expectations. He’d assumed she would be shy. She had been the opposite.
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