Modern Romance December 2016 Books 5-8. Annie West
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had been so uptight the moment she’d stepped back on familiar territory? Why she was scarcely recognisable as the warm woman he’d grown to know?
He glanced across the ballroom as she strayed into his line of vision. She was easily the most beautiful woman in the room, her dark hair studded with sapphires and a matching midnight-blue gown hugging her slim figure. But she looked cool and aloof as she greeted the high-born guests and once again that feeling of unease settled over him.
He had asked her to be his bride but he couldn’t deny that doubts had started to creep into his mind since they’d arrived here in Isolaverde. Back in New York, it had all seemed ridiculously simple. He’d been on a high—amazed to find a woman whose company didn’t irritate him and dazed from the non-stop and amazing sex. They’d each dragged out their demons and shone daylight on them and confronting them had seemed to diminish them. She’d told him she wanted a family and marriage; well, so did he. And the cherry on the cake as far as he was concerned was that neither of them was chasing after that disappointing fairy tale known as love.
But in the high-octane buzz of the city it had been easy to forget that Sophie was a royal, while here it had been in his face from the moment they’d touched down. And nothing was ever going to change that. He wanted children of his own—but hadn’t he overlooked the fact that any child he sired with Sophie would be royal by birth? As soon as they were born, wouldn’t expectation be heaped all over their innocent heads? Could he willingly subject any child of his to a life beneath the glare of the spotlight?
Sophie was walking towards him and he could see people bobbing into curtseys as she moved past. ‘So. There you are,’ she said.
‘Here I am,’ he agreed, his eyes capturing hers. ‘And I’m all yours. Dance with me?’
She nodded, a small smile tugging at her lips as he took her into his arms and the orchestra swelled into a slow and sensuous waltz. He could smell a different scent on her skin, something warm and spicy, and he felt the punch of his heart as he drew her close.
‘Having fun?’ he questioned.
‘Of course!’ Her voice sounded bright. ‘How about you?’
‘This is certainly a very elaborate production,’ he said dryly.
Now what did he mean by that? Sophie glanced up into Rafe’s hard-boned face but his shuttered features gave her no clues. She thought how unapproachable he looked this evening, even though she kept trying to tell herself she was imagining it. But deep down she knew she wasn’t. Things had been awkward between them since that disorientating episode of sex when she hadn’t felt a thing. They hadn’t discussed it because neither of them had acknowledged it—and hadn’t she been secretly praying he might not have even noticed? That his own pleasure had been powerful enough for it to have passed him by? But the truth was that he hadn’t laid a finger on her since.
Yet while his lack of attention had removed her fear of a repeat episode of unresponsiveness, it did nothing to lessen her dread about what was happening to them. Her growing fear that this was how it was going to be from now on. Her stomach tied itself up in knots as they moved around the dance floor. Because what if she was one of those women who couldn’t sustain sexual enjoyment? She’d read about that kind of thing happening. Women whose senses shut down for whatever reason, leaving their highly sexed menfolk aching and frustrated.
And she wasn’t stupid. There were plenty of reasons why a rift should have appeared between them and it wasn’t just because they weren’t having sex. She’d seen the expression on Rafe’s face when he wasn’t aware she was watching him. He reminded her of a person walking around a zoo and observing all the exhibits with a wry and faintly disbelieving look on his face. What if he’d changed his mind about wanting to marry her, now that he had seen her in her natural habitat of the royal palace?
She lifted her gaze towards his shadowed jaw and asked the question she had been dreading. ‘You are still happy for the marriage announcement to be made tomorrow?’
The look he slanted down at her was unfathomable. ‘I gave your brother my vow, didn’t I? And I never go back on my word.’
But Sophie took little comfort from his response. Why, that was the most lacklustre endorsement she’d ever heard! The dance finished and an Isolaverdian nobleman she’d known since childhood stepped forward to take Rafe’s place. With a smile, she shook her head, taking a glass of punch from the tray of a passing waitress instead. But she wanted a drink even less than she wanted a dance. It was more of a distraction—a stalling device—something which enabled her to observe Rafe as he headed over towards a nearby beauty to ask her to dance.
The beauty was a Duchess, an ethereal blonde who’d been sitting near Rafe at the pre-ball dinner, and she accepted his offer immediately. Sophie felt her heart plummet. Of course she did. What woman wouldn’t want to be in the arms of Rafe Carter? Despite the fact that he had no royal title, he was easily the most attractive man in the crowded ballroom. She watched him move the Duchess round the floor, wondering if she was imagining that he seemed more relaxed than he’d been during his dance with her. But could she blame him? It couldn’t be much fun dancing with a woman who had suddenly turned to ice in his arms.
She tried not to react but she couldn’t seem to quash the sheer, blinding jealousy of seeing him so close to another woman. She told herself not to be so stupid—that it was all completely innocent. And it was innocent. Logically, she knew that. She believed in his vow of intended fidelity, just as she believed he was a man who wouldn’t go back on his word.
But that was before she had shut down in his arms, wasn’t it? Before he’d seen at close quarters just what it meant to marry into the pomp and ceremony of the Isolaverdian royal family.
Feeling as if someone were pressing their fingers against her throat, Sophie turned away and found herself a hiding place behind a tall marble pillar, dejection washing over her as she leaned back against the wall. Because nothing had changed, had it? Despite her daredevil stab at gaining some independence, everything was as it always had been. She had tied up her future with a man who’d promised her the security of marriage but without the cushion of love. Just as Luc had done.
And she was just as trapped as before!
Only this time it was worse.
Much worse.
She’d known all along that her feelings for Luc had been tepid, because they’d never been given the freedom to get to know each other properly. But she did know Rafe. More intimately than she’d known anyone. She’d been his lover. She’d shared his bed. She’d cooked him meals and vice versa and she’d lain face down on the pillows of his New York bed while he had carefully massaged her shoulders and then, afterwards, eased himself inside her aching body. He’d taken her to parties, and shows. They’d shopped together and walked for miles through the snowy streets of New York City. And if the truth were known, she’d fallen in love with him along the way, hadn’t she?
Hadn’t she?
The music changed to a lively foxtrot as she tried to tell herself she was panicking unnecessarily. That tomorrow Rafe would slide on the huge ruby and diamond ring they’d chosen together on Madison Avenue and the people of Isolaverde would be delighted that their princess had found her own happy ending at last.
But she hadn’t, had she?
She was still that same dumb, docile princess who thought she couldn’t exist without the patronage of a powerful man. She was about as modern as one of the ancient suits of armour which stood in the palace entrance hall! How could she knowingly walk into such a one-sided relationship and open herself up to all the potential pain of such a union? How could she force that on Rafe when the agreement had been that neither of them was asking for love?
Thought after disturbing thought rushed through her head, but she kept them hidden behind a careful smile as she went through the motions expected of her. She danced with the prime minister, with assorted Dukes and a visiting Sheikh. She even danced with Rafe again, trying not to indulge in a rush of jealous questions about his many dance partners.
And