Forced Wife, Royal Love-Child Read Free

something new, somethingtriggered by the news report that drove him, an aching fury that moved his kiss beyond mere passion to something dark and dangerous and all-consuming.
    And meanwhile his mouth was everywhere—on her lips, at her throat, on her breasts, hungry as he grappled with her robe, reefing it over her shoulders, forcing it down and pulling her naked body against his. She went willingly then, melting into him because she had no real choice, her senses overloaded with the taste and scent of him, the mouth suckling and nipping at her breast, the brush of denim against her legs, the feel of his hot flesh melting her bones, the sound of his zip coming undone…
    So many sensations, building one upon the other, a frenzy of feeling that threatened to consume her whole. And then he was lifting her, urging her legs around his waist, only to lower her slowly down until she felt his rock-hard length nudge at her core, and it was her turn to consume him.
    He made a sound as he filled her, harsh like the cry of a wounded animal, as if it had been torn from his soul, and she clung to him, afraid for him.
    Afraid for herself .
    And then he was pumping into her, so fast and furious that sensation exploded inside her like a fireball. She was falling then, his arms still locked around her, barely aware of what was happening when her back met the rumpled bed and he lifted himself, easing out of her until he sat poised there, at the very brink. Through eyes still blurred with passion she looked up at him, looked into his wild eyes and saw the agony that marked his beautiful face and read the words inscribed on her soul— it was already too late —when with a roar he thrust into her, burying himself to the hilt again and again in a final turbulent release that sent her shuddering into the abyss once more. 
    * * * 
    It was his voice that brought her back to life, the low, urgent tones as he spoke into the phone rumbling through her like a passing thundercloud, but it was a glance at the clock that catapulted her to full consciousness and back into the bathroom to dress.
    He barely noticed her go, his attention almost one hundred per cent on the words his business partner was saying. Yannis Markides, one of the few people on the planet who knew the truth of Rafe’s background and the identity of his father, knew more than anyone what the television reports would mean to him.
    ‘You have to go,’ Yannis urged. ‘It’s your duty.’
    ‘Now you’re sounding just like Sebastiano. He’s already in Paris, apparently, and on his way. He certainly didn’t waste any time hunting me down.’
    ‘Sebastiano’s right to do so. Without you, Montvelatte will cease to exist. Do you want to be responsible for that?’
    ‘I’m not the only one. There’s Marietta too—’
    ‘And the day you drop something like this on the shoulders of your little sister, is the day you lose me as a friend. Anyway, you know law dictates it must be a male heir. This is your call, Raphael, your duty.’
    ‘Even if I go, there’s no guarantee I can save it. The island is a financial basket case. You heard the reports—Carlo and Roberto and their cronies have drained the economy dry.’
    There was a deep laugh at the end of the line. ‘And this isn’t what you and I do for a living every day? Bring the fiscally dead back to life?’
    ‘Then you go, if you’re so concerned. I like my life just the way it is.’ It was the truth. He’d worked hard to get where he was, taking on the hardest projects out there and proving to himself time and again he was up to the task. And he’d provensomething else to himself—that he didn’t need to be royalty to be someone.
    ‘But it’s not up to me, Rafe. You’re the son, the next in line. There is nobody else who can do what you have to do.’ There was a pause. ‘Besides, don’t you think it’s what your mother would have wanted you to do?’
    Rafe should have known Yannis would hit below the belt.