Princess's Pregnancy Secret

‘Oh.’

She dragged in a searing breath and gazed into his eyes.

‘That’s it, Blue,’ he enticed her in that devilish whisper. ‘Come on.’

She couldn’t answer—not as his fingers circled, and slipped along the slick cleft of her sex, not as they teased that sensitive nub over and over and over. She bit her lip as that searing tension deep in her belly tightened. She rocked, her rhythm matching the pace of his fingers as they strummed over and around her. He kissed her, his tongue soothing the indent of her teeth on her lip, then stroking inside her mouth in an intimate exploration of her private space. Just as his finger probed within her too.

She tore her mouth from his and threw her head back, arching in agony as she gasped for breath. He fixed his mouth on her breast, drawing her nipple in deep. Pleasure shot from one sensitive point to another, rolling in violent waves across her body. She shuddered in exquisite agony, crying out as she was completely lost to this raw, writhing bliss.

When she opened her eyes she saw he was watching her, his hand gently stroking her thigh.

She breathed out, summoning calm and failing. Giddy, she gazed at him, stunned by the realisation that she’d just had an orgasm. She’d let him touch her and kiss her and he’d made the most amazing feelings flood through her. But the hunger had returned already and brought that special kind of anger with it.

That emptiness blossomed, bigger than before. There was more to this electricity between them. More that she’d missed. More that she wanted.

A chasm stretched before her. A choice. A line that, once crossed, could never be reclaimed. But it was her choice. And suddenly she knew exactly how she wanted this one thing in her life to be. Within her control.

For this first time—for only this time—she wanted physical intimacy with a man who truly wanted her back. A man who wanted not her title, not her purity or connections. Just her—naked and no one special. This man knew nothing of who or what she was, but he wanted her. This was not love, no. But pure, basic, brilliant lust.

Just this once, she would be wanted for nothing but herself.

Almost angrily she shifted on him, pressing close again, kissing him. He kissed her back, as hard, as passionate. She moaned in his mouth. Willing him to take over. But he drew back, pressing his hand over hers, stopping her from sliding her palm down his chiselled chest to his belt.

‘We’re going to be in trouble in a second,’ he groaned. ‘Stop.’

She stared dazedly into his face as he eased her back along his thighs, almost crying at his rejection.

‘I need to keep you safe,’ he muttered as his hands worked quickly to release his zipper. ‘One second. To be safe.’

She couldn’t compute his comment because at that moment his erection sprang free. Never had she seen a man naked. Never had she touched. He reached into his trouser pocket and pulled out a small packet that he tore open with his teeth. Her mouth dried as she stared avidly.

Of course he was prepared. He was an incredibly handsome, virile man who knew exactly how to turn her on because he was experienced. He was used to this kind of anonymous tryst and he definitely knew how to make a woman feel good. And that was...okay.

As she tore her gaze away from the magnificence of him she caught sight of their reflections in that gleaming mirror again. The image of those two strangers—half naked and entwined—was the most erotic thing she’d ever seen in her life. Their pasts didn’t matter. Nor did their futures. There was only this. Only them. Only now. She turned back to look at the overwhelming man she was sitting astride with such vulnerability—and with such desire.

Princess Eleni always did the right thing.

But she wasn’t Princess Eleni tonight. She was no one and this was nothing.

‘Easy, Blue.’ He gently stroked her arm.

She realised her breathing was completely audible—rushed and short.

‘Just whatever you want,’ he muttered softly.

He wasn’t just inviting her. He was giving her the choice, all the control. Yet his voice and his body both commanded and compelled her own and there was no choice.

This once. This one time. She wanted everything—all of him. She shimmied closer. The sight of his huge straining erection made her quiver and melt. She didn’t know how to do this. She looked into his eyes and was lost in that intensity. And suddenly she understood.

She kissed him. Kissed him long and deep and softened in the delight. In the rightness of the sensation. She could feel him there beneath her. She rocked her hips, as she’d done before, feeling him slide through her feminine folds. His hands gripped her hips, holding her, helping her. She pressed down, right on that angle, every sense on high alert and anticipation. But her body resisted, unyielding.

She wanted this.

So she pushed down hard. Unexpectedly sharp pain pierced the heated fog of desire.

‘Blue?’ A burning statue beneath her; his breathing was ragged as he swore. ‘I’ve—’

‘I’m fine,’ she pleaded, willing her body to welcome his.

‘You’re tight,’ he said between gritted teeth.

‘You’re big.’

He filled her completely—beneath her, about her, within her. The force and fire of his personality scalded her. Her breath shuddered as she was locked in his embrace, and in the intense heat of his gaze.

‘Have I hurt you?’ His question came clipped.

‘No.’ It wasn’t regret that burned within her, but recognition. This was what she wanted. ‘Kiss me.’

And he did. He kissed her into that pure state of bliss once more. Into heat and light and sparkling rainbows and all kinds of magic that were miraculous and new. Touching him ignited her and she moved restlessly, eager to feel him touching her again too. That fullness between her legs eased. Honeyed heat bloomed and she slid closer still to him. She sighed, unable to remain still any more. His arms tightened around her, clasping her to him as he kissed her back—exactly how she needed. Yes. This was so good, it had to be right. He shifted her, sliding her back, and then down hard on the thick column of his manhood.

He suddenly stood, taking her weight with no apparent difficulty. Startled, she instinctively wrapped her legs around his waist. He kissed her in approval and took those few paces to where that narrow table stretched along the wall. He stood at the short end and carefully placed her right on the edge of it, then slowly he eased her so she lay on her back on the cool wood. Her legs were wound around his waist, her hips tilted upwards as he braced over her, his shaft still driven to the hilt inside her. That mirror was right beside her now but she didn’t turn her head to look again at those strangers; she couldn’t. Her wicked rake claimed every ounce of her focus.

‘This is madness,’ he muttered. ‘But I don’t care.’

Nor did she. This moment was too perfect. Too precious. Too much to be denied.

His large hands cupped her, holding her as he pressed into her deeply, and then pulled back a fraction, only to push forward again. Again, then again, then again. Every time he seemed to drive deeper, claiming more and more of her. And she gave it to him. She would give him everything, he made her feel so good. He gazed into her eyes and in his she saw the echo of her own emotions—wonder, pleasure, need.

She’d never been as close to another person in all her life. Not so passionately, nakedly close. Nor so vulnerable, or so safe. Never so free.

She kissed him in arousal, in madness, in gratitude. Trusting him implicitly. He’d already proven his desire to please her.

‘Come again,’ he coaxed in a passionate whisper. ‘I want to feel you come.’

She wanted that too. She wanted exactly that.

He touched her just above the point where they were joined, teasing even as he filled her. She gasped as she felt the sensations inside gather once more in that unstoppable storm.

‘You...please...’ she begged incoherently as she feverishly clutched him, digging her fingernails into his flesh. She wanted him to feel the same ecstasy surging through her. She needed him on this ride with her. As she frantically arched to meet him she heard his groan. His hands gripped tighter, his expression tensed. She smiled in that final second. She wanted to laugh. She wanted to revel in it and she never, ever wanted it to end.

His face flushed as sensation swept the final vestige of control from his grasp. Pleasure stormed through her again, surging to the farthest reaches of her body. She sobbed in the onslaught of goodness and delight and his roar of satisfaction was the coda to her completeness.

Her eyes were closed. She could hear only the beating of her heart and his as they recovered. She was pinned by his weight and it was the best feeling on earth.

But then laughter rang out. Not hers. Nor his.

‘What’s in this room?’

Eleni snapped her head to stare at the door as someone on the other side tried the handle.

‘Hello?’

More laughter reverberated through the wood.

Reality returned in a violent slam, evaporating the mist of delight. Suddenly she saw herself as she’d look to anyone who burst through that door—Princess Eleni of Palisades, ninety per cent naked, sprawled on a table with her legs around the waist of some stranger and his body ploughed deep into hers.

Sordid headlines smashed into her head: shameless wanton...a one-night stand...the eve of her engagement... There would be no mercy, no privacy—only scorn and shame. She had to get out of here. Aghast, she stared up at the handsome stranger she’d just ravished. What had she done?

* * *

Damon watched his masked lover’s eyes widen in shock. Beneath the blue sparkled powder, her skin paled and her kiss-crushed lips parted in a silent gasp. This was more than embarrassment. This was fear. He was so stunned by her devastated expression he stepped back. She slipped down from the table and tugged at her crumpled clothing. Before he could speak someone knocked on the door again. More voices sounded out in the corridor.

Her pallor worsened.

‘I’ll get rid of them,’ he assured her, hauling up his trousers so he could get to the door and deny anyone entrance to the room. He was determined to wipe that terror from her face.

He pressed a hand on the door. Even though he’d locked it, he couldn’t be sure someone wouldn’t be able to unlock it from the other side. He listened intently, hoping the revellers would pass and go exploring elsewhere. After a few moments the voices faded.

He turned back to see how she was doing, but she’d vanished. Shocked, he stared around the empty room, then stalked back to where she’d been standing seconds ago. Only now did he register the other door tucked to the side of that large mirror. There were two entrances to this room and he’d been so caught up in her he’d not even noticed.

He tried the handle but it was locked. So how had she got through it? Keenly he searched and spotted a discreet security screen. Had she known the code to get out? She must have. Because in the space of two seconds, she’d fled.

Just who was she? Why so afraid of someone finding her? Foreboding filled him. He didn’t trust women. He didn’t trust anyone.

If only he’d peeled off that mask and seen her face properly. How could he have made such a reckless, risky decision?

Anger simmered, but voices sounded outside the other door again, forcing him to move. He glanced in the mirror at his passion-swept reflection. Frowning, he swiftly buttoned his shirt and fixed his trousers properly. Thank heavens he’d retained enough sense to use protection. But as he sorted himself out he realised something he’d missed in his haste to ensure that door was secure. The damn condom was torn. And more than that? It was marked with a trace of something that shouldn’t have been there. He remembered when she’d first pushed down on him. When she’d inhaled sharply and tears had sprung to her eyes.

Uncertainty. Pain.

Grimly he fastened his belt. He’d been too lost to lust to absorb the implications of her reaction. Now his gut tensed as he struggled to believe the evidence. Had she given him her virginity? Had she truly never had another lover and yet let him, a total stranger, have her in a ten-minute tryst in a private powder room?

Impossible. But the stain of her purity was on his skin. His pulse thundered in his ears. Why would she have done something so wild? What was her motivation?

Hell, what had he been thinking? To have had sex with a woman he’d barely met as fast and as furiously as possible? Almost in public?

But her expressive response had swept all sensible thought from his head. She’d wanted him and heaven knew he’d wanted her. He was appalled by his recklessness; his anger roared. But a twist of Machiavellian satisfaction brewed beneath, because he was going to have to find her. He was going to have to warn her about the condom. The instinct to hunt her pressed like the blade of a knife. She owed him answers.

Find her. Find her. Find her.

His pulse banged like a pagan’s drum, marching him back to the busy ballroom. He even took to the balcony to scan the braying crowd, determined to find that blue hair and swan-like neck. But he knew it was futile. The midnight hour had struck and that sizzling Cinderella had run away, never wanting to be seen again.

Least of all by him.

CHAPTER THREE

‘YOU LOOK PEAKY.’

Eleni forced a reassuring smile and faced her brother across the aisle in his jet.

‘I have a bit of a headache but it’s getting better,’ she lied.

She felt rotten. Sleeplessness and guilt made her queasy.

‘The next few weeks will be frantic. You’ll need to stay in top form. They want the pretty Princess, not the pale one,’ King Giorgos turned back to the tablet he’d been staring at for the duration of the flight.

‘Yes.’

She glanced out of the small window. Crowds had gathered with flags and celebratory signs. She quickly dug into her bag to do a touch-up on her blush, thankful that the jet had landed them back on Palisades.

Giorgos had escorted her on a three-day celebration visit of Santa Chiara to meet again with Prince Xander and his family. Not so long ago she’d have inwardly grimaced at her brother’s smothering protectiveness, but she’d been glad of his presence. It had meant she’d not been left alone with Prince Xander.

The Shy Princess captures the Playboy Prince...

Their engagement had captured the imaginations of both nations. Her schedule and the resulting media interest had been beyond intense these last few weeks. At least all the appearances had kept her too busy to think. But late at night when she was alone in her private suite?

That was when she processed everything, reassuring herself she was safe. She would never tell anyone and that man from the ball would never tell anyone. He didn’t even know who she was. She didn’t know his name either. Only his face. Only his body.

She shivered but forced another smile when her brother glanced at her again. ‘I’m going to go to my hospital visit this morning,’ she said brightly.

Giorgos frowned. ‘You don’t wish to rest?’

Always protective. And also, always frowning.

She shook her head.

It had been nothing more than a sordid physical transaction. A ten-minute encounter between strangers. And surely, please, please, please, she would soon forget it. Because right now the memories were too real. She relived every moment, every word, every touch. And the worst thing? She wanted it again, wanted more, wanted it so much she burned with it. And then she burned with shame. Tears stung at the enormity of her betrayal. She was now engaged to another man yet all she could think of was him, that arrogant, intense stranger at the ball.

Thankfully displays of physical affection weren’t ‘done’ between royals so the few ‘kisses for the camera’ on her tour with Prince Xander had been brief—her coolness read by the media as shyness. In private her fiancé had seemed happy to give her the time and space to adjust.

It was Giorgos who had asked if she was going to be happy with Xander and who’d reassured her that her fiancé’s ‘playboy’ status was more media speculation than solid truth. For a moment she was tempted to confess her dreadful affair, but then she saw the tiredness in the back of her brother’s eyes. He worked so hard for his people.

And she couldn’t bear to see his crushing disappointment. She remembered how Giorgos had teased her with big-brother ruthlessness and laughter. But how he’d aged a decade overnight when their father died. Under the burden of all that responsibility he’d become serious, distant and more ruthless, without that humour. She understood he was wretchedly busy, but he’d tried his best for her—sending people to educate her, protect her, guide her. He just hadn’t had the time himself. And she could not let him down.

He believed Xander to be the right fit for her—from a limited pool of options—and perhaps he was. So she’d make the best of it.

For Giorgos.

But the thought of her wedding night repulsed her. As crazy as it was, that brief conversation with that stranger at the ball had engendered far more trust in her than any of the discussions she’d had with polite, well-educated, aiming-to-please but ultimately careless Prince Xander. She simply didn’t want him like that. She shivered again as that cold, sick feeling swept over her.

‘I don’t want to miss a visit,’ she finally answered as she rose to disembark the jet.

She needed to do something slightly worthwhile because the guilt was eating her up. Her brother nodded and said nothing more. If anyone understood duty before all else, it was he.

An hour later, as she walked the corridor towards her favourite ward, that cold queasiness returned.

‘Princess Eleni?’ Kassie, the physiotherapist escorting her to the ward, stopped.

From a distance Eleni registered the woman was frowning and her voice sounded distanced too.

‘Are you feeling okay?’

* * *

Damon Gale was barely existing in a state of perpetual anger. He hadn’t left Palisades without trying to find and warn his mystery lover there might be consequences from their time together. He’d described her to his half-sister Kassie, but she’d not been able to identify the woman either. No one could. None of his subtle queries had given any answers. Where had she disappeared to so quickly? Heaven knew, when he found her he was giving her a piece of his mind. But at night she came to him in dream after dream. He woke, hard, hungry and irritable as hell. There was so much more they should have done. But now she was hiding. Not least the truth about who she was. Why?

He loathed nothing more than lies.

So this morning, weeks since that damn ball, he’d once again flown back to Palisades. Now he waited for Kassie at the hospital in her tiny office, looking at the clever pen and ink drawings of the child patients pinned to the noticeboard.

He heard a footstep and a low, hurried whisper just outside the door.

‘Ma’am, are you sure you’re feeling all right?’

That was Kassie. Damon’s muscles tensed.

‘I’m just a bit...dizzy. Oh.’ The woman groaned.

He froze, shocked at the second voice. He knew those raspy tones. She spoke in his dreams. Every. Damn. Night.

‘Do you need a container?’ Kassie asked delicately.

‘I had a bug a few days ago but I thought I was over it or I’d never have visited today,’ the woman muttered apologetically. ‘I’m so sorry. I’d never want to put any of your patients at risk.’

‘They’re a hardy lot.’ Now Kassie’s smile was audible. ‘I’m more concerned about you. Are you sure I can’t get a doctor to check you over?’

‘No, please. No fuss. I’ll quickly go back to the palace. My driver is waiting.’

Palace? Damon was unable to move. Unable to speak. His woman had known the security code to get through that second door in the palace. Did she work there? But she’d said she worked at the hospital. That was why he was back here again.

‘Maybe you should rest a moment,’ Kassie urged softly.

‘No. I need to go. I shouldn’t have come.’

Damon stood. Those words exactly echoed ones he’d heard that night at the masked ball. Those exact tones in that exact, raspy voice. It was her.

He strode across the room and out into the corridor. But his half-sister had her back to him and she was standing alone. Damon looked past her and saw no one—the corridor ended abruptly with a corner.

‘Who was that?’ he demanded harshly.

Kassie spun, startled. ‘Damon?’ She blinked at him. ‘I didn’t know you were coming back again so soon.’

‘I have another meeting,’ he clipped. ‘Who were you talking to?’

‘I’m not supposed to say because her visits are strictly private,’ Kassie answered quietly. ‘But she wasn’t feeling well today and left early.’

‘Whose visits?’ What did she mean by ‘private’?

‘The Princess.’

Damon stared dumbfounded at his half-sister.

Princess Eleni of Palisades?

Wasn’t she the younger sister of King Giorgos, a man known for his protectiveness and control over everything—his island nation, his emotions, his small family. Hadn’t he been the guardian of the supposedly shy Princess for ever?

Now the covers of the newspapers at the airport flashed in his mind. He’d walked past them this morning but paid little attention because they’d all carried the same photo and same headline—

A Royal Engagement! The Perfect Prince for Our Princess!

But the Princess was not perfect. She’d fooled around with a total stranger only a few weeks ago. And now she was engaged. Had she been rebelling like some wilful teen? Or was there something more devious behind her shocking behaviour? And, heaven have mercy, how old was she?

‘What do you think was wrong with her?’ he asked Kassie uneasily. He needed to get alone and research more because an extremely bad feeling was building inside him.

‘I’m not sure. She was pale and nau—’

‘Where did she go?’ he interrupted.

Kassie was staring at him. ‘Back to the palace. She visits my ward every Friday. She never misses, no matter what.’ Kassie ventured a small smile. ‘She doesn’t seem your type.’

He forced himself to answer idly, as if this didn’t matter a jot. ‘Do I have a type?’

Kassie’s laugh held a nervous edge as she shook her head. ‘Princess Eleni is very sweet and innocent.’

But that was where Kassie was wrong. Princess Eleni wasn’t sweet or innocent at all. She was a liar and a cheat and he was going to tear her to shreds.

Thank God he finally knew where and how he could get to her. He just had to withstand waiting one more week.

CHAPTER FOUR

IN HER BATHROOM Eleni stared at her reflection. Her skin was leached of colour and she felt sick and tired all the time. Wretched nausea roiled in her stomach yet again, violent and irrepressible. She’d been avoiding mirrors since the ball. She couldn’t see herself without seeing those two strangers entwined...

It had been over a month since that night. Now she gazed at her breasts and held in her agonised gasp. Was it her imagination or were they fuller than usual? That would be because her period was due, right? But finally she made herself face the fact she’d been trying desperately to forget. Her period was more than due. It was late.

Two weeks late.

She’d been busy. She’d been travelling. Her cycle could be screwed up by nerves, couldn’t it?

Frigid fear slithered down her spine as bitter acid flooded her mouth again. Because a lone, truly terrifying reason for her recurring sickness gripped her.