Marrying His Majesty: Claimed: Secret Royal Son. Marion Lennox
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way? Was it possible that this woman had the heart that Mia lacked?
She’d given away her baby. The assumption had been she’d done it for profit, for greed. But now…
She looked pale and sick. And suddenly that was how he was feeling. Sick.
He was starting to feel… smirched. As if he was acting as Mia and Giorgos had acted. Buying her baby. Buying her.
‘Get out,’ she whispered again, and this time he nodded.
‘I’m going. But… ’ He hesitated but it had to be said. ‘Lily, this is too fast. It’s urgent but it’s not about us. I suspect I’ve misjudged you, and if I have then I’m sorry.’
‘That’s kind of you.’ She was trying to sound sardonic but her voice was shaking.
She swayed, just a little.
He moved, crossing the few steps to her in an instant, holding her shoulders. Steadying her.
‘Don’t… don’t touch me.’
But she didn’t pull away. She couldn’t. She was holding on to Michales with one arm, with the other the door handle. ‘Please leave.’
Hell, how ill had she been? ‘Lily, are you okay?’
‘I’m fine,’ she managed and steadied. She tugged away and he released her with real regret. She seemed suddenly… frail?
It didn’t make sense. Nothing made sense.
He’d walked into this room feeling nothing but anger at the mess this woman had got him into. Determined to act with honour, no matter what the cost. Now, stupidly, all he wanted was to protect her.
It didn’t make sense to her either. She was looking at him with a mixture of fear and something else. Something he couldn’t pinpoint.
Regret? The word slipped into his mind and stayed.
Regret for what he’d done to her? Regret that she couldn’t take up his offer?
Maybe she had used him. Maybe the pregnancy had been planned. But this was… deeper.
He thought of how she’d been little more than a year ago. She’d danced with him, she’d teased him, she’d mocked him and he’d been enchanted. What had happened to knock the spirit from her?
‘Lily, I’ll leave,’ he said and flinched inwardly as he saw relief flood her face. Was she so afraid of him? ‘I’ve come at you too fast, too hard.’
‘Yes,’ she said blankly.
The pieces of the cheque were still scattered on the floor. There were far too many for her to gather and reassemble after he left.
But she’d seen his glance—and she guessed what he was thinking.
‘I won’t,’ she said, her face flushing with anger again.
‘I know you won’t.’
‘You don’t know anything about me.’
He was starting to know more.
From Lily’s arms Michales was watching him with interest.
He was his son…
How could he have been convinced that a simple cheque could fix things? It seemed so ridiculous now.
If Lily hadn’t been Mia’s sister—if he hadn’t assumed this had been set up as a con—what would he have done?
Appeal to a conscience he’d assumed she couldn’t have?
If she did have a conscience, there was nothing to lose—and everything to gain.
‘Do you have access to the Internet?’
His simple question caught her off guard. ‘I… yes… ’
‘Then I’ll leave you. But I need you to do something. I want you to look up the websites of our local newspapers.’ He pulled out a card and scribbled addresses on it. ‘Then contact these men. They’ll give you their own references. What they’ll do—I hope—is convince you that what I say is true. The islands are facing ruin. Only my marriage to you can save them.’
‘But I don’t want to be married. I want to be free.’
‘Free?’
‘Yes, free.’ Her colour suddenly returned in force, surging behind her anger. ‘I’m free,’ she said, sure now. ‘For the first time in my life I can move forward, where I want, when I want. You think I’d go from that to marriage… ’ She said the word as if it were some sort of hell. ‘How can you ask it of me? You have no right.’
Was the thought of marriage to him so appalling? It didn’t make sense.
He wasn’t that bad. Was he?
It couldn’t matter. All he could do was tell her the facts. ‘I have no choice,’ he said. ‘And if you have a conscience, then you don’t either.’
Her anger was palpable. Maybe if she’d had a hand free she’d have slapped him, he thought. Maybe it would have made them both feel better. What was between them needed some release—there was nowhere to go with the rising tension.
‘Just contact these people,’ he said. ‘Ask the questions.’
‘Go.’
‘I’ll come back tomorrow. Lily, we’re running out of time and you must take this seriously. Combined, you and I hold the fate of the islands, and Sappheiros in particular, in our hands. Whether we want it or not, we need to be married.’
She looked up at him in bewilderment. Anger was giving way to confusion.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said simply. ‘But we have to do this. And maybe it won’t even be too bad.’
And then—maybe it was really dumb but he couldn’t not—he lifted Michales from her arms. Once more, he set the little boy on the floor.
He took Lily’s face in his hands.
And he kissed her.
It was no deep, demanding kiss. He had enough sense for that—almost. But that night a year ago hadn’t been an aberration. His body knew what it wanted—and it wanted her.
The kiss was a feather-touch, lips to lips, sweet as honey, and a connection that felt intrinsically right. It was as if a part of him had reconnected that he hadn’t known until this moment had been cut loose.
He kissed her and she didn’t respond, but neither did she pull away.
Should he take it further?
His body was telling him to deepen the kiss, push past the barriers he could feel she’d erected.
His head was screaming the opposite. He’d pushed her too far as it was. The royal succession hung on this young woman’s decision. To push her past the point where she might run…
He shouldn’t. But kissing her felt right. It felt entirely natural. Lily…
And things were changing.
Suddenly it was Lily who was taking control.
He’d outlined a business proposition. So why was he kissing her?
She should fight him. She shouldn’t let him kiss her.
She was passive, letting him do the running, letting him kiss her…
Why had she done this? Why had she let him?
She knew why. She just had to see… if what she remembered was real.
Like beer. It was a stupid analogy but she’d thought of it a few times over the past months.
The first time she’d been given a glass of beer, it had been after a day spent working in the hold of a sun-baked boat.