The Night the King Claimed Her - Page 26

‘But you are the king of an excessively wealthy island nation. You’re about to be crowned and celebrated as such. Everyone has to pay homage to you.’

‘Don’t fret.’ His lips twisted. ‘I have little desire to force you to kneel before me.’

She paused, thrown by the thought of being on her knees before him. The terrible thing was it was a totally tempting prospect that made parts of her tighten in anticipation. She couldn’t say no to him. That was the problem. It had been the problem all along. He made her want all the wicked things.

He smiled knowingly and, heaven help her, she loved seeing those cracks in the facade of the very serious King. She’d seen them before when she’d last been here in his kingdom.

He shifted and took her hand in his. Three months ago they’d not touched. He’d kept his distance. She’d kept hers. Until that last moment when even then there’d only been a heartbeat of closeness, a breath of agony expressed. Somehow she’d known if skin struck skin, sparks would fly. Turned out it wasn’t sparks—it was a complete detonation and it was impossible to stifle her shiver of excitement. Of anticipation. She’d dreamed of him touching her like this. But the gasp she’d just released? It was mortifying.

‘Felipe...’ It was meant to be a warning growl. It was more of a pleading whisper.

Triumph fired his eyes yet there was a hint of a deeper storminess. A hesitation that she knew went beyond them both.

She ached. How could she have missed him so much? She barely knew him. But that one day had changed everything. The intensity of his magnetism had terrified her. It did again now—and it ripped away the facade of blame she’d cast upon him. The fact was while he’d told her to leave, she’d had no choice but to run regardless. The truth was she’d wanted to flee every bit as much as he’d wanted to fling her from the palace. And she’d used his words as her excuse. That unfairness of her boss’s assumption was the final thing she’d used to save herself.

‘I’m only going to ask one last time, Elsie. Please come to the banquet tonight.’ The quiet question melted the last of her weak resistance.

‘Yes,’ she whispered. ‘I’ll come to your wretched banquet.’

‘Good.’

Felipe had to release her. He had to loosen his fingers and let her go. She wasn’t saying yes to what he really wanted—yes, she’d follow him to his personal quarters this instant and, yes, together they’d forget everything for a few blissful moments. Not appropriate. Not an option. But he felt a strength of satisfaction out of all proportion to what she’d agreed to. For the first time in weeks, a sore spot was soothed.

She would come to the banquet.

‘Amalia will be pleased to see you,’ he said mechanically. ‘And my staff will make the arrangements.’

His staff were probably going to pass out in shock. Too bad.

But the second he’d heard her name this afternoon his blood had lit. The lust hadn’t burned out, it had remained simmering in the background all this time while he’d tried to ignore it. He’d been so furious when she’d disappeared that he’d not been able to bring himself to ask his team where she’d gone. Why she’d gone. He’d not wanted to admit to anyone, let alone himself, how much it had bothered him. And whether it had been because of him.

Of course it had. But not quite in the way he’d thought.

He’d shut down Amalia’s questions. He’d been gruff and impatient. But he’d only needed Elsie’s name on a breath to be cast back into utter captivation. And now he’d seen her again, he was lost in lust like never before. Stepping away from her was impossible. He cursed the animal drive. He’d hoped it had been scarlet-tinted glasses maxing out the attraction in hindsight. But seeing the heated challenge in her ice-blue eyes, hearing her anger? It was worse than before.

Maybe she was right and he was simply bored—or taking a second to avoid what was to come tomorrow. Maybe this was one wishful hint of rebellion before making those vows. Because it couldn’t be the one thing he refused to feel—not complete lust for a woman that would make him renege on every other promise he’d made. He would never do that. He was not his father—not a man who would walk out on everything he was born to do, for a woman.

Tomorrow he would honour his promise to serve his people, country, duty before anything else. Anyone else. The truth was he already did. His life hadn’t been wholly his own for a long time and despite the ceremony tomorrow not much would actually change. It was a formality, a celebration of the fundamentals that had been in place since his accession to the throne the second his grandfather had passed. This was a thing his people wanted and he couldn’t deny the economic benefits of this weekend. This pinnacle positive event of the decade was going to be streamed so anyone in the world could watch. And as there was never going to be a wedding, he needed to step up for this one. He would do so with all the loyalty and love he felt towards his country and the people within.

But tonight’s banquet was the ‘private’ event. There’d be no cameras other than those permitted in the atrium and he’d ensure no photos were taken of Amalia or her companion. He’d apologised to Elsie. He’d now ensure she was cared for tonight. And that didn’t mean her ending up in his bed.

Not an option.

Because while he’d been furious that she’d walked out, he’d also been relieved. Felipe didn’t often have affairs. It was difficult to maintain privacy here on Silvabon and his former betrothal had come in handy as deflection from women who wanted to get too serious. But the trigger for his final rejection of that betrothal was standing right in front of him. He couldn’t consider a political alliance once he’d realised how badly he could want someone else. And while he’d once wanted to do his duty for his grandfather, he’d realised that the sacrifice wasn’t only his to bear.

None of it would have been fair on Princess Sofia.

Finally he’d realised he would never ask anyone to move to Silvabon for him. Palace life had broken his mother. It had also broken his father—a man who’d been born into the life and had every preparation and support but who still hadn’t been able to make it.

So Felipe wasn’t asking anyone to take it on. Not ever.

Yet a thread of rebellion tightened within him. He’d been so good for so long—he’d done everything demanded of him. Now he wanted something for himself. Because despite Elsie’s little digs to the contrary, he wasn’t completely spoilt. The orders he made were invariably for the benefit of others. They were the ‘right thing to do’. He wanted to do the wrong thing for once. With her.

And she knew it. He felt her pulse hammering against his fingers and his body tightened. She’d been bothered by his supposed betrothal. Jealous? He knew the feeling.

‘What’s the video?’ he asked, unable to resist his curiosity.

Her blue eyes shimmered. ‘You really don’t know?’

Tags: Natalie Anderson Billionaire Romance
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