Royals: For Their Royal Heir: An Heir Fit for a King / The Pregnant Princess / The Prince's Secret Baby

He went on.

‘One day, both my parents were in residence—which was a rare enough occurrence. A young local girl was trying to see my father, holding a baby, crying. Her baby was ill and she needed help. She was claiming that it was his—which was quite probable. My father had his soldiers throw her and the baby out of the castle...’

Alix’s mouth twisted.

‘What he didn’t realise was that a mob had gathered outside, and when they saw this they attacked. Our own soldiers were soon colluding with the crowd and they turned on my father and mother. They shot my parents and my brother, but I got away.’

Alix deliberately skated over the worst of it—made it sound less horrific than it had been.

He drank the rest of his wine in one gulp.

Leila’s eyes shone with what looked suspiciously like tears. It had a profound effect on Alix.

‘Your brother...were you close to him?’

He nodded. ‘The closest. Everything I do now is to avenge his death and to make sure it’s not in vain.’

He knew instantly that he’d said too much when Leila frowned slightly. Clearly she was wondering how his living the life of a louche royal playboy tallied with avenging his brother’s untimely death.

She didn’t know, of course, of the charitable foundations he headed that supported the families of people who’d lost relatives in traumatic circumstances. Or the amount of times he’d gone on peace and reconciliation missions all over the world, observing how it was done so he’d be qualified to apply it to his own country when he returned.

Leila looked at Alix, so tall and brooding in the moonlight. Her heart ached for him—for the young boy he’d been, helpless, watching his own parents destroy their legacy—and taking his younger brother with them.

She thought of how she’d lied about her father being dead and it made her feel dishonest now, after he’d told her what had happened to him.

‘Alix,’ she began, ‘there’s something I should—’

But he cut Leila off as he moved, coming over to the table. He put his glass down. His eyes were blazing and she could see they’d dropped to her breasts, unfettered beneath her thin gown. Instantly heat sizzled in her veins and she forgot what she’d wanted to say.

‘I think we’ve talked enough for one evening. I want you, Leila.’ And then, almost as an afterthought, he said, ‘I need you.’

I need you. Those three words set Leila’s blood alight. She sensed that he needed to lose himself after telling her what he had. So she stood up, allowing him to see all of her, thinly veiled. He might have said he needed her, but she knew that this was about this.

And as Alix led her inside and up to the bedroom she reassured herself once again that that was fine.

* * *

‘Who would have thought you like to read American noir crime novels?’ Leila’s voice was teasing as she lay draped across Alix’s chest on a large sun lounger in his garden.

He lowered his book and looked at her, arching a brow. ‘And that you would like Matilde’s collection of historical romance novels covered with half-naked Neanderthals and long, flowing blonde hair?’

Leila giggled and ducked her head, and then looked up again. ‘It was my mother’s fault. She devoured them and led me astray from a young age.’

‘You must miss her.’

Leila unpeeled herself from Alix and sat up, pulling her knees to her chin and wrapping her arms around them. She looked out over the stunning view from their elevated height in the garden at the back of the house, where the pool was.

Quietly, Leila said, ‘I miss her, of course. It was always just the two of us.’

Leila was afraid to look at Alix in case he saw the emotion she was feeling. A mix of grief and happiness. And gratitude to be in this place. To be with this man and yet to know not to expect more. Even if her heart did give a little lurch at that.

Alix came up on one elbow beside her, his long half-naked body stretched out in her peripheral vision like a mouthwatering temptation.

‘The man you were with before—what did he do to you?’

Leila glanced at him. Damn. She’d forgotten that she’d mentioned Pierre, even in passing. She shrugged. ‘He was a mistake. I was naive.’

‘How?’

Leila bit her lip, and then said, ‘It was just after my mother died—I was vulnerable. He paid me attention. I believed him when he said he just wanted to get to know me, that he wouldn’t push me. But one night he came up to my apartment and said he was tired of waiting for me to put out. He tried to force himself on me—’

Alix sprang upright in one fluid move and caught Leila’s arm, turning her to face him. Anger was blazing from his eyes. ‘Did he hurt you?’

Leila was shocked at this display of emotion. ‘No. He...he tried to, but I had some mace. I threatened to use it on him. So he just insulted me and left.’

‘Dieu...Leila...he could have—’

‘I know,’ Leila said sharply. ‘But he didn’t. Thank God. And I was proved a fool for believing that he—’

Alix’s hand tightened on her arm. ‘No, you weren’t a fool. You just wanted reassurance and some attention.’

Words trembled on Leila’s lips. Words about how much she’d wanted to believe that love and security did exist. Could exist. But she couldn’t let them spill. Not here, with this man. He’d made no promises. He was offering her this slice of paradise—that was all and if she’d been foolish before she’d be triply so if she started dreaming about anything more with a man like Alix.

He urged her gently back down onto the lounger and pushed their books aside. Tugging her over his chest again, he cupped the back of her head, fingers threading through her hair. ‘The man was an idiot, Leila.’

He brought her mouth down to meet his and they luxuriated in a long and explicit kiss. Leila felt emotional—as if Alix was silently communicating his gratitude to her for trusting enough in him to let him be the one to take her innocence.

The kiss got hotter, more desperate. Alix’s free hand deftly untied the strings of her bikini and she felt the flimsy material being pulled from between their bodies. Then his hand was smoothing down her back, cupping her buttock and squeezing gently, and then more firmly, long fingers covering the whole cheek, exploring close to where the seam of her body was wet and hot.

Obeying the clamouring of her blood, Leila moved over Alix so that her legs straddled his hips, breasts pressed to his broad chest. With an expert economy of movement, barely breaking their connection, mouths and body, Alix managed to extricate himself from his shorts and disposed of Leila’s bikini bottoms too. Now there were no barriers between them.

Leila had got so used to their privacy being respected that she felt completely uninhibited. Her legs were spread and she could feel him, hard and potent, at her buttocks. Alix moved so that his erection was between them, and Leila luxuriated in moving her body up and down, her juices anointing his shaft, making him groan...making them both want more.

Until she couldn’t stand teasing him any more and rose up, biting her lip as Alix donned protection, and then letting her breath out in a long hiss as he joined their bodies and he was deep inside her. Nothing existed in the world except this moment. This exquisite climb to the top of ecstasy.

CHAPTER SEVEN (#ue0127ee5-26f8-51da-bee5-12c47cda87d6)

ALIX HAD HIS HANDS in his pockets and he was looking out over one of the back lawns to where Leila was deep in conversation with his head gardener. He smiled and realised that in spite of the fact that he was standing on the precipice of possibly the most tumultuous period of his life he’d never felt so calm...or content.

The last ten days had been unlike anything he’d ever experienced. He’d never spent so much time alone with a woman. Not even the woman he’d thought he’d lost his heart to all those years ago. That had been youthful lust mixed up with folly and arrogance and hurt pride.

Leila was easy to talk to. Disturbingly easy to talk to. He’d told her things that he’d never discussed with anyone else. Not even Andres.

And their chemistry was still white-hot. Alix frowned. He knew he had to let Leila go. Within days the news was going to break that Alix’s people had voted for him to return to Isle Saint Croix. His life would not be his own any more. And he couldn’t return to the island with a mistress. It would undo all his hard work. He had to return alone, and then find a wife.

He felt heavy inside, all of a sudden. And then Leila looked up and spotted him, a smile spreading across her face. She said something to the gardener and shook his hand. The old man looked comically delighted with himself and Alix shook his head. The Leila effect. Yesterday he’d found her in the kitchen, showing Matilde how to make a genuine hot Indian vegetarian curry.

She hurried towards him now with a box in her hand, dressed for travelling in slim-fitting trousers and a sleeveless cashmere top. He drank her in greedily...something elemental inside him growled hungrily. He wasn’t ready to let her go—and yet how could he keep her?