Kidnapped For His Royal Heir / The Italian's Pregnant Cinderella

She yearned to blame her restlessness on the different time zone and environment. But she knew the prospect of not only being in Zak’s presence but the steel trap of working closely with him for however long he intended to remain here was the reason she’d lain wide awake for long stretches of the night.

Showered and dressed within half an hour, she headed to the food tent, where the local construction crew and skeleton volunteer staff were gathered. She spotted Peter the moment she entered and joined him after getting her breakfast.

‘Good morning,’ he greeted with a wide smile, pulling out a chair for her. His scrutiny was quick but appreciative, exhibiting harmless male interest a polar opposite from the kind she was used to. The kind her mother keenly invited constantly in a bid to find her and her sisters the ‘right’ husband. Refusal to accommodate their mother was the reason her twin sister, Sage, had taken a job on the other side of the world in New Zealand and rarely visited Barringhall these days.

She glanced up as Zak stepped into the tent, immediately sucking up all the oxygen from the space and directing more female gazes to him.

For the first time since she’d known him, Zak was dressed at his most casual. Yet even the expensive light-coloured cargo pants and white T-shirt shrieked their exclusivity. Although she suspected that dressed in rags, he’d somehow find a way to exude effortless sophistication and suave elegance. With his broad shoulders, potent good looks and dark hair that gleamed damply from his recent shower, it was near impossible to look away from him as he sauntered over to where she sat.

His grey gaze went from her almost empty plate to her half-finished coffee. Unlike Peter’s, his scrutiny triggered fireworks in her body before it met her eyes. ‘Buon giorno,’ he said, his deep, raspy voice making her skin tingle even more. ‘I didn’t expect you to be up this early.’

She shrugged, aware of Peter’s interest in the exchange. ‘I couldn’t sleep so I thought I’d make an early start. The quicker I acclimatise to the routine, the quicker I’ll shake off the jet-lag. Besides, the volunteers and trucks should be arriving soon.’ And as soon as she rid herself of this disturbing reaction to Zak’s presence, she could focus her excitement elsewhere.

‘That’s the best part—when the long wait is over and we get to see the structures actually going up,’ Peter enthused.

Violet smiled at him, his effervescence infecting her.

‘Let’s hope all that enthusiasm doesn’t suffer in the face of hard work,’ Zak drawled, folding powerful arms across a wide chest.

She swallowed against the electrifying effect of his muscled biceps and glanced away.

Peter frowned, then shrugged. ‘Everyone flags a little when faced with the scale of the work to be done but the ultimate goal is what pushes us all on. It’s why I love what I do.’

Violet couldn’t help but respond to his infectious attitude. She was still smiling when a female volunteer hurried over with a fresh pot of coffee and offered Zak a cup. For an infinitesimal moment, he didn’t respond. His gaze remained locked on Violet a touch longer before he gave an abrupt nod.

Perhaps it was a good thing he was in a disgruntled mood. It kept her mind from wandering into dangerous territory. Allowed her to steer her attention back to Peter.

‘How long have you been in the tourism industry?’ she asked him.

‘I’ve never really done anything else. I started off as a tour guide and volunteer, then joined the tourism board to find ways to help the rural areas like these find ways to sustain themselves. It’s in my blood,’ he said with a grin. ‘My Norwegian mother met my Tanzanian father on her gap year volunteering at an animal sanctuary in Dodoma. I was born a year after she finished her veterinary studies. When the opportunity came up to join forces with Zak’s and tourist board’s vision, I couldn’t jump on board fast enough.’

The sound of large engines ended the conversation. The arrival of the volunteers was followed an hour later by excited shouts announcing the arrival of the eco lodges.

Excitement and a keen desire to please the Royal Prince kept everyone on their toes all though the first day. Violet allocated tents and assisted where she could, all the while ensuring she kept a safe distance from Zak.

That plan shattered when he approached where she was filling water bottles to distribute to volunteers. ‘You were supposed to join me at lodge two after lunch,’ he said, his shoulder brushing hers as he joined her to watch the last of the lodges being laid out in front of their designated sites.

She shifted away from him, her insides a little too jumpy and tingly at even that tiny contact. ‘I’d planned to, right after I did this.’ She started to lift the tray of bottles but he beat her to it, brushing her aside to balance the tray on one hand as he stared down at her with a fierce smoulder.

‘Avoiding me isn’t going to work with this thing you’re fighting. You know that, don’t you?’ he rasped.

Despite her stomach hollowing out, she lifted her chin, daringly met his gaze and attempted to bluff her way through it. ‘Since I don’t know what you’re talking about, I’m not equipped to give you an accurate answer.’

He stepped closer to make his point because surely a man like him didn’t give a little damn about being overheard? ‘I’m talking about the fact that you’re attracted to me, Violet. Have been for quite a while. The fact that you’ve been attempting to deny it. And the fact that your every action simply emphasises your naughty little dilemma.’

Should she bother denying it? Or should she confront it head on? Would the former merely attract further mockery because the evidence of it had lain like an unexploded firework between them since she’d made the mistake of throwing herself at him six years ago?

With a deep breath that failed to steady her, she chose the second option. ‘So what if I am? You’re decent enough to look at, and since you seem intent on alluding to my lapse in judgement six years ago, yes, we kissed, and, yes, that was halfway decent enough too. But let’s not make a mountain out a molehill, shall we?’ She wanted to fist pump for sounding convincingly nonchalant.

‘Decent enough?’ he echoed, something close to astonishment blazing in his eyes.

‘Did you expect a higher rating? My memory isn’t that great about the whole thing so you’ll have to accept my generous verdict,’ she said.

A circumspect gaze raked over her face. ‘You have more fire than I remember. Fire I can’t help but be tempted to stoke, to test the veracity of your claim. Perhaps even refresh your flawed memory.’

That sizzling need to throw herself into his particular fire blazed higher. She fought it with every shred of composure she could find. ‘You’re not going to get the chance. I don’t particularly care to repeat the performance. Now, are we going to deliver this water or waste time recounting insignificant incidents?’

A long pause followed by an enigmatic smile was all she received in answer before he pivoted and walked away with her tray. With no choice but to follow, Violet gritted her teeth and did just that. Of course, with his help, the job took half the time, meaning that within minutes he was striding purposefully towards their designated lodge, where the team was waiting for Zak’s signal to start.

His switch from sensually mocking into efficient commander was stunning and a little intimidating to witness. God, he would’ve been even more formidable in his military days.

Even more?

She shivered, drawing back from imagining Zak Montegova’s jaw-dropping body in uniform, those lips issuing commands and talented hands manning the controls of the fighter jets he used to fly—

‘Are you planning on joining in?’ he drawled.

She focused to find the small group looking her way, one gaze in particular transmitting his knowledge of exactly what she’d been thinking about.

Aware of the faint blush staining her cheeks, Violet pursed her lips and strode over, avoiding Zak’s gaze as she tore into the first pack. Luckily, he didn’t comment further on her lapse of concentration and fell back into instructor mode.

Once she and the volunteers understood the basic instructions on how to construct an eco-lodge, the time flew by. Violet grimaced at the ruthless efficiency with which Zak worked, the fact that he worked harder than most on even the most mundane task in a fraction of the time it took for the rest of the volunteers to achieve the same result.

She wanted to resent him for yet another skill, but the sensation that burned within her every time she allowed her gaze to stray towards him was...admiration.

He wasn’t afraid to put his mouth where his money was and relished leading by example. Of course, when sweat and the heat of the day resulted in Zak pulling off his T-shirt and tossing it aside to reveal a hard-packed, flawless and gleaming torso that rippled and enticed with every moment, she especially despised the fact that she couldn’t keep her gaze on her work, that her mouth watered and flames blazed deeper in that aching place between her thighs.

While his complete focus was on his task, unaware of or ignoring her stolen glances, which disgruntled her even more.

By sundown, the outer shell of their lodge had been erected and the primary emotion as she and the team felt as they took in the fruits of their labour beneath another spectacular sky awash with streaks of purple, red and orange was immense pride.

She joined the exodus towards the food tent, conscious that a shirtless Zak walked a few paces behind. Knowing the battle to keep her gaze off him would be harder, she lingered after she dished out her food until he was seated. Then she took the seat farthest away from him.

Peter joined her minutes later. But even as she kept a fairly easy conversation flowing, she was aware of Zak’s growing scowl from the end of the long table. Aware that the presence of the other man next to her irritated the enigmatic Prince.

Too bad.

Perhaps it might do his ego some good to know that she wasn’t one of the many females falling over themselves to hang onto his every word! With that wicked thought in mind, she laughed a little more enthusiastically at Peter’s jokes, met his gaze a little longer and didn’t object when he offered to walk her back to her tent, via the long way by the lake.

And when he bade her a perfectly gentlemanly goodnight, she retreated inside with a smile, ignoring the little dissatisfied hollow in her stomach as she gathered her toiletries and headed back out to take a shower.

While she was all for the luxury of a proper bathroom and conveniences, Violet couldn’t fault the special and simple delight of showering under the Tanzanian sky after sunset. The simple pump system delivered fresh water via a shower head and she sighed with pleasure as the cool water washed away the day’s grime.

Of course all that delight turned to chagrin when she realised she’d forgotten her towel. With no choice but to stuff her underwear into her wash bag and don her shorts and T-shirt, she re-dressed as quickly as her damp skin would allow and stepped out.

Directly into the path of Zak Montegova, leaning against a slim acacia tree, clad in only a towel.

He straightened at the sight of her, sauntering over with a mouth-drying swagger that made her every nerve ending jump to attention. Dear God, how was it fair for one man to be this attractive?

‘For a minute there I wondered whether I’d need to take a dip in the lake, in case you decided to use up all the water,’ he said.

She made a vague gesture towards the half-full pump to the side of the shower stall. ‘As you can see, I didn’t. There’s more than enough for you.’

He kept his gaze trained on her, not deigning to glance at the pump. And with each second she grew even more aware of her dripping hair, of the T-shirt sticking to her stomach and breasts, outlining her stiffening nipples. Of the heat gathering between her thighs when his gaze dropped down her body.

Had his breathing altered? Did that naked chest expand as he sucked in a long breath?

Get yourself together!

She started to turn away, keen to heed her screeching senses.

‘A word of advice, Violet. Whatever it is you’re up to with Awadhi, be sure it’s a choice you won’t eventually regret.’

Was he cautioning her as her boss? Or was this...personal? ‘You have a say in the work that I do. I don’t believe you have a say in how I spend my free time.’

‘Are you attracted to him?’ he pressed, a definite bite to his voice. ‘Can’t get enough of all that wholesome, salt-of-the-earth, tie-dyed goodness? Is that it?’ he mocked.

‘Why? Are you jealous?’ she taunted, exhaustion, a sense of injustice from being the butt of his cynicism and, yes, that constant, overwhelming need to give into the sizzling temptation he evoked just by breathing finally cracking her composure.

His nostrils flared. ‘That would imply he has something that I do not.’

That stung deep, made her even more rash. ‘If you’re not interested then why are we having this conversation?’

He stepped closer, bringing his tower of virile masculinity and solid potency far too close. Her mouth dried and her fist clenched with the need to touch. To explore. To taste.

‘You misunderstand me. The issue isn’t what I want. It’s what he doesn’t have. Which is you. Because I won’t allow it.’

Shocked, hollow laughter ripped from her throat, thankfully eroding a layer of need. ‘Won’t allow? You have a nerve! Who do you think you are, telling me what you will or won’t—?’

The rest of her inflamed accusation evaporated as he speared his fingers into her wet hair and drew her abruptly against his body. Hot, demanding lips slanted over hers, his arm banding her waist. He picked her up as if she weighed nothing, took three long strides and before she could take a breath she was plastered against the side of the shower stall, out of view of passers-by.

Zak held her immobile, angling her head as his tongue delved between her lips to begin a torrid little dance that instantly beaded her nipples, driving sharp, sweet pain between her thighs.

Violet had far too often relived their encounter six years ago, wondered if her recollections had been exaggerated because of the occasion, wondered if her childish crush on him was what had heightened her emotions.

This re-introduction was so much more than she remembered, her senses stunned anew as he expertly nipped her lower lip with his teeth and fresh, explosive sensation spiralled through her.

Perhaps she was older, hungry enough to appreciate him better, to savour this raw, intoxicating contact that had her questioning her sanity in allowing it one minute, then straining onto tiptoe, her arms trailing delightedly up those muscled biceps she’d admired to lock around his neck.

Whatever.

Caution evaporated away as she threw herself into kiss, tentatively nipping in return.

Zak made a hungry, greedy sound under his breath, muttered words in Montegovan she only half understood. Words that would’ve made her blush had she not craved it, yearned for satiation of the hunger growing inside her, demanding gratification.

She strained against him as Zak freed her mouth to explore the newly discovered erogenous zone beneath one ear. She shivered and gasped, clung tighter as he trailed his lips down her throat to her collarbone, then lower to one hard nipple.

His mouth surrounded the peak, taking flesh and cotton in one powerful pull. One hand slipped beneath the hem of her shorts to boldly cup her naked bottom.

Flames lit up her veins, pooling in a torrent between her legs. She gasped as, keeping their gazes locked, he moved his hand purposefully between her thighs, his fingers intent on one destination.

He absorbed her reaction, hungrily devoured her every shiver. With it came a speculative gleam in his eyes as he traced the heat suffusing her face.

‘No bra, and no panties. I’m not sure whether to spank your naughty little bottom for exhibiting yourself like this or accept this gift you seem intent on giving me,’ he growled against her lips.

Violet cried out as his fingers caressed her damp heat, breached her outer lips to rest against the soaked entrance of her womanhood. The hot brand of his own arousal jerked against her stomach as he absorbed her reaction, hungrily devoured her every shiver.

‘Is it my touch that excites you like this, Violet, or the thought of being spanked, I wonder?’ he rasped in a low, deep voice that strummed and deepened her need.

Frankly, Violet suspected it was both. And the more the thought seeped into her consciousness, the shorter her already compromised breathing grew.

Dear God, was she kinky on top of all her unwelcome woes?

Zak laughed beneath his breath, clearly witnessing her freaked-out expression. But slowly his laughter died, leaving a deeper carnal intent on his face. ‘Is there something you wish to tell me, Violet?’

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ she gasped.

‘Don’t you? You react too strongly to such an ordinary pleasure.’ He squeezed her bottom again, kneading her flesh while boldly holding her gaze. ‘You’re all but hovering on the brink of orgasm from just this simple touch alone.’

He slanted his lips over hers once more, his tongue brazen, positively possessive as it slid against hers, determined to draw an even more potent reaction from her. Reaction she was helpless to deny as hunger clawed through her, wrenching her onto tiptoe again so she could taste more, drown more, feel more.

But that dim light of warning at the back of her head brightened, steadily but surely, slowing her reaction enough for her to pull back. A little too late she recalled what had happened the last time she’d allowed herself to give in to this sensation. He’d rejected her.

Nothing had changed.

Except this time she would reject him first. The last thing she wanted was to spend the next few weeks drowning in humiliation if he repeated the experience.

So, gathering the dregs of her composure, she bunched her fists against his shoulders. And pushed.

He growled beneath his breath for a second before he allowed her to break the kiss. ‘Violet—’

‘I don’t care what you think. I don’t want this.’

‘Define this,’ he insisted, narrowed gaze fixed on her wet lips for a tight moment before it rose to spear hers.

‘Any...all of it. I’m not interested in scratching whatever itch you may have. Now or ever.’

‘Such dire, sweeping pronouncements. Are you certain it won’t come back to bite you?’

She took a step back, then another since one wasn’t enough. His gaze dropped to her chest, landed precisely on one beaded nipple before switching to the other. And stayed.

Violet wished she could halt her agitated breathing. Wished she could stop her flesh from reacting to the ravenous hunger in his eyes. But he’d rejected her once and become entrenched in whatever dire opinions he had of her and her family ever since.

Falling into his bed would be as good as confirming everything he’d accused her of. And she wouldn’t be jeopardising just her body but the career she’d set her heart on.

‘Yes. I’m one hundred per cent certain I don’t want you to touch me.’

Dark rebellion glinted in his eyes but his words were smooth and immediate. ‘Very well. You have my word I will not touch you until you ask...no, until you beg me to.’

Alarm strangled her lungs.

Why did that feel very much like a challenge?

And as she watched him walk into the shower without a backward glance, why did she feel like he was simply biding his time until he won?

What the hell had he been thinking, making that prediction?

Five days had passed since their torrid little encounter by his shower. Five days of hell when either she plotted to drive him out of his mind or the little witch cast a spell on him.

Zak swiped an arm across his sweaty forehead and stepped back to survey another excellent day’s result. They’d shaved a whole day off their target, building two eco lodges in five days instead of six.

He didn’t apologise for being a harsh taskmaster when the occasion demanded, and the high fives happening behind him suggested the team didn’t mind, either.

Violet’s husky laugh made his stomach clench tight.

He didn’t want to turn around. Didn’t want to be drawn to her attention-absorbing face, her supple, curvy body or those control-wrecking legs she insisted on displaying in the bottom-moulding shorts she favoured.

As for her work ethic...

Contrary to his dim prognosis, she’d delved into every task with wholehearted enthusiasm, more often than not going over and above expectations. Not once had she protested.

Of course, he still had his reservations that she could sustain it in the long run—

A choking cough shattered his thoughts and intentions. He turned and found Violet doubled over, the subject of the team’s humour as she spluttered.

‘A little warning next time, please?’ She laughed through the coughing.

Zak’s gaze narrowed at the volunteer holding the suspicious-looking bottle as he approached, unable to take his eyes off Violet’s legs and plump, shapely behind as she bent over to cough again. The reason for her state became apparent when he caught the scent.

Pombe, the local alcoholic brew, was lethal to the unschooled. ‘What do you think you’re doing?’ he demanded.

Everyone froze, their gazes avoiding his.

‘We’re celebrating. What does it look like?’ Violet responded, the humour dying from her eyes.

‘Perhaps you should consider celebrating with something a little less...potent?’ he suggested.

While the rest of the team sent him wary glances, Violet shot him a challenge-filled glare. All week she’d treated him to those defiant little looks. Having grown up in a Royal household where most people fell over themselves in deference and yearned to please, Zak found her attitude...uniquely interesting. Perhaps a little too much? Was that why he couldn’t resist needling her whenever the opportunity arose?

He shoved the suggestion away when her chin lifted.

‘Where’s the fun in that?’ she taunted, her eyes still shiny from her coughing episode.

Perhaps it was frustration. Perhaps it was disgruntlement that she wouldn’t fit into the mould he’d cast for her. Before he could stop himself, his fingers were wrapping around her forearm. ‘For those of you who prefer it, I’ve had champagne delivered to the tent to celebrate finishing early. Feel free to go and help yourselves,’ he said to the group.

Predictably, his announcement was met with a chorus of cheers and the team dispersed quickly.

‘Would you please stop manhandling me?’ she sniped as soon as they were alone.

He released her but planted himself in front of her. ‘How much of that did you drink?’

‘Policing my activities yet again?’

‘Only in the sense that you’re inviting a hell of a hangover by indulging in that stuff.’

She swiped the back of her hand across her lips, dragging his attention back to the full, luscious mouth he’d tasted. The mouth he couldn’t get out of his head. ‘Thanks for your concern but that’s my problem, surely? Have I done anything so far to compromise my work?’

He pursed his lips. ‘Not yet, but there’s always a first time.’

A flash of emotion, possibly hurt, darted across her face. ‘And you’re, what, positioning yourself as my champion? To save me from myself? Why?’

‘Because we’re leaving tomorrow. And I’d prefer you to be at your best, not hung over and jet-lagged when we return to New York.’