Capturing the Crown Bundle. Nina Bruhns
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arms still around his neck, Amelia pressed her body tightly up against his. Her eyes were dancing as she said, “Guess.”
She could make him forget everything else in a heartbeat. He’d never met another woman like her and was grateful that somehow, fate had arranged for her to be his. “I had no idea that you were this lusty, Princess.”
“Neither did I, Carrington,” she teased, amusement highlighting her features. “See what you’ve done?”
“I?” he asked innocently.
“Yes, you.” She raised herself up on her toes, bringing her mouth up close to his. “You’ve made a wanton woman out of me.” She could feel love exuding from every pore of her body. It was incredible what a difference a few weeks made. Just a month ago, she’d seen her life—certainly her happiness—ending. And now, she could honestly say she had never been happier. All because she was married to Russell. “And then an honest one.”
“I had nothing to do with that,” he reminded her. “That was the king’s choice. And, as for the first matter, as I remember the series of events, you were the one who chose me, not the other way around.”
With a laugh filled with pleasure, she kissed him. She did it quickly, then did it again before drawing away, savoring the masculine taste of his lips. She could feel her blood singing.
“If they don’t make you king, you could always become the royal lawyer,” Amelia quipped. He reached for her, but she playfully took a step back, lacing her fingers through his hand. “Now, tell me everything. Just who is this woman who says she’s having Reginald’s baby? Do you know her? Do I?”
He drew her over to the sofa and sat down, pulling her onto his lap. She settled in, lacing her arms around his neck as she listened.
“No to both,” he told her. “Unless it’s an alias of some kind. According to what Lucia found out, the woman’s name is Sydney Connor. The e-mail was tracked back to Naessa.”
“Naessa,” Amelia echoed incredulously. She banked down a shiver. There had been threats made against her father from several terrorist factions whose roots, it was discovered, ran deep in Naessa. “Nothing good ever comes from Naessa.”
“Not so,” he contradicted. When she looked at him quizzically, he said, “If this woman is on the level, then the future king of Silvershire might well be coming from there. If Sydney Connor is a native of Naessa, then Silvershire’s new king would be half Naessian.”
Amelia frowned as she turned the idea over in her head. There had been too much bad blood in the past between their two countries and Naessa.
“I don’t think that’s going to go over very well with the people of Silvershire. Or with the people of Gastonia, for that matter,” she added.
Russell nodded. She had a point, he supposed. For the sake of peace in the kingdom, Weston might not want to recognize a bastard’s claim to the throne. It might set off too many diverse factions.
For the moment, his ascent to the throne seemed inevitable again.
“And it might just set off Nikolas Donovan and his little band of merrymakers,” he commented dryly.
He could almost hear what the Union for Democracy would have to say about placing Reginald’s illegitimate son on the throne. They could use the country’s unrest to demand that the entire sum of governing power be turned over to the people.
Amelia put into words what he hadn’t said. “And unless Reginald secretly married this woman, which I sincerely doubt, the fact that the baby is a bastard might make a great many people unwilling to accept that child as their king. For that matter, the king might chose not to recognize the baby, either,” she added. “In any event, Weston still has the right to choose whomever he wants to be king since he no longer has a living son to take the crown.”
Amelia smiled at him, her eyes encouraging. “I’m afraid that you are going to be king of Silvershire whether you like the idea or not, my sweet.” She curled up in his lap. “Just think of me as your consolation prize.”
“I think of you as the only prize,” he answered just before he kissed her.
The kiss, meant to be fleeting as he stood up to take his leave, took on a life of its own, growing and flowering until it threatened to overwhelm them both, blotting out the room, the palace and everything that was beyond the very small circle created by the two of them.
She heated his blood the way no other woman ever had before her. An eagerness went galloping through his veins, causing him mentally to discard the rest of the things he had intended on seeing to in the next few hours.
Nothing was nearly as important, nearly as pressing, as allowing himself to make love with this woman he had had the great fortune to have bestowed on him as his bride.
“Don’t you have somewhere to be?” Amelia breathed against his mouth as he began to remove her clothing with the speed and dexterity of a finely skilled magician. Not to be outdone, she began separating him from his own garments almost as quickly as he was peeling her out of hers.
“Yes.” His own breath was growing shorter and shorter just as his anticipation was steadily growing greater and greater. “I do. Right here,” he told her. “Right now.”
“Can’t argue with that,” she laughed softly.
And she didn’t. Not for the next few hours.
Chapter 15
Russell turned his head toward the woman who somehow still managed to be a complete revelation to him. Amelia was in bed beside him. He had things he had to tend to. He knew they both did. But right now, nothing seemed to be as important to him as savoring this moment, lying here next to her.
“But you would be all right with that?” he asked, still wondering what he had ever done to deserve to be so lucky. “With the possibility of my not becoming the next King of Silvershire?”
Amelia turned so that her body was tucked against his. She smiled up into Russell’s face, the warm glow of lovemaking still very tightly wrapped around her. They had already settled the matter, she thought. For all intents and purposes, it looked as if he were going to be the next king. But if he wasn’t, she didn’t care. Perhaps, she mused, she even liked it better that way. Because then they could go home.
“You’re king of my heart, Russell, that’s all that really matters to me.” And then her smile faded just a little as a thought occurred to her.
Russell propped himself up on his elbow. He didn’t like the way her brow furrowed. Was there an obstacle after all? “What?”
She picked her words carefully. The male ego, she knew, was a very fragile thing. Would his be bruised if the scenario he suggested really did play itself out? “If this does come about, if you’re not crowned the King of Silvershire, would my being Queen of Gastonia some day bother you?”
Russell pressed his lips together, not to think, but to suppress the smile that rose to his lips. Titles had never mattered to him and he was comfortable enough in his own skin not to feel threatened by any she had. As long as she loved him. “You mean would it bother me to be a kept man?”
In her experience, men such as the ones he referred to idled away their time in vapid pursuits. That wasn’t Russell.
“The only thing you would be ‘kept’ at is busy. Being the prince consort requires a great deal of work. You would be involved in guiding Gastonia, in keeping it safe. I don’t intend to rule my country alone,” she informed him. Amelia stroked his cheek lightly, feeling excitement taking hold again. “We are partners, you and I. Partners in everything that we do. Nothing would make my heart happier than returning to Gastonia. But I will not go without you,” she added quietly. “And I will not remain there without you.”
Russell turned his body until he was leaning over her again. He slipped his hand along her face, tracing