The Night the King Claimed Her - Page 34

‘But you dived anyway,’ Elsie surmised wryly, understanding he needed a moment of levity. ‘And there we all thought you kept your promises...’

‘I didn’t promise him I wouldn’t dive.’ Felipe winked. ‘He suggested that I refrained from it. I chose not to listen.’

‘Carlos said you have more courage than anyone.’ Amalia nodded, oblivious to the charged undercurrent that returned at her words. ‘Do you still find them?’

This time Felipe didn’t reply.

‘Felipe?’ Elsie said softly.

‘I haven’t had much time to dive there recently.’ He didn’t look at either of them.

‘I wish I could try,’ Amalia said wistfully. ‘But I can’t swim well.’

Felipe cleared his throat. ‘We all have different strengths. I can’t play the piano at all.’

Amalia touched the necklet again and suddenly lifted her chin. ‘I’ll teach you a tune if you teach me to dive.’

For another silent moment both step-siblings stood frozen. Elsie desperately sought Felipe’s gaze, and as he glanced towards her she stared at him meaningfully.

Say yes to her. Please.

That muscle in his jaw flicked. ‘Okay.’ He nodded briskly at Amalia. ‘Sure. Later in summer when your leg is stronger.’

Elsie’s heart pounded. She was stupidly relieved because the two of them could be closer and that would be good for them both.

‘Good motivation to do your physio exercises.’ She smiled at Amalia. ‘You look so pretty. The pearls are perfect.’

Felipe walked with them through the labyrinthine corridors towards the reception room. Just as they arrived, he dropped husky words in her ear. ‘By the way, did you really think you wouldn’t stand out in that dress?’

She smiled, his tease soothing her nerves and assuring her he’d recovered from that moment. Of course he had. He was a king and had consummate control of everything. ‘I was hoping to blend in with the banners.’

He shook his head and peeled away from them.

‘Felipe said we don’t have to do the greeting line, we go in another entrance,’ Amalia said. ‘I don’t know how he remembers everyone’s names. There are hundreds of them.’

Elsie watched him, trying to be surreptitious and totally failing. It didn’t matter; no one was paying attention to her. He stood at the opposite end of the banquet hall, ready to greet his guests, tall and strong and obviously comfortable. But he was also isolated. Even with courtiers and government ministers waiting with him, he was set apart. It wasn’t just that air of command, that he was full-fleshed authority to the bone, the one from whom all sought approval. Everyone in this vast room ached to impress him yet there was no one at his side. No partner. No family. Not even his mother. He was starkly alone. And that, she realised, was how he wanted it.

He’d never wanted to marry that princess. He’d not wanted Amalia to suffer through the boredom of the reception line. He saw this all as solely his duty—as he stood beneath the portrait of his steely-eyed grandfather. Given any image of his father had been scrubbed long ago, only Felipe remained now. It was down to him. And that was how he’d keep it.

As she studied him, he turned. Unerringly his gaze met hers. There was a moment when she felt the intensity as if he were standing but a breath from her. A moment later liveried guards swung the wide oak door open and the procession of guests began. In minutes there were several princesses in the room. Their dresses were sleek and glamorous. She and Amalia amused themselves in admiring them, then Elsie had to focus on enjoying the musicians’ skill because she was inordinately jealous of the women talking to Felipe. She’d recognised the princess he wasn’t marrying. She was wearing a golden dress and looked like a goddess.

‘I want to learn the drums,’ Amalia said.

Yeah, Elsie had the urge to bash loud things with heavy sticks this second.

More princes. Kings. Prime ministers. Presidents. Security was obvious and tight. Elsie understood why the skies had been closed. There was a detail on Amalia. She saw the men from the café watching at a discreet distance.

Like every guest there, she was hyper aware of where Felipe was. Who he was talking to. He was an absolute professional—greeting every guest by name, circulating, allowing everyone moments of his attention. The thing they all craved most.

The air of excitement and celebration was palpable. The banquet hall glittered with polished silver and chandeliers. The food was sublime but Elsie found she couldn’t eat much. She smiled politely as nearby guests talked to Amalia about places to visit in Europe. She considered them all like customers, inquiring politely, admiring something. Her introduction as Amalia’s music assistant was accepted without question. After the feast they headed to the ballroom. She and Amalia were left more to themselves.

Felipe needed to stop staring at her, but not staring at her felt even more obvious. He couldn’t find the balance. It was stupid and in overthinking it he found his gaze drifting towards her again. With nothing around her neck, no jewel to distract the eye, there was no escaping the beauty of her smooth skin, the desperately tempting line of her collarbones. He couldn’t get enough of the stunning scope of her bare skin. He wanted to see more—everything that lay beneath that demure neckline of the dress. Her hair was highlighted and gleaming like a halo. She didn’t need a tiara for people to take notice of her.

At her side Amalia was laughing, while Elsie was more circumspect. But her glacial blue eyes burned like the hottest flames whenever her gaze clashed with his.

Why had he wanted to adorn her? Why when she couldn’t sparkle any more than she currently did? The bracelet was still in his pocket. He’d imagined it sparkling on her wrist as she played her mandolin. A hint of perspiration popped at the thought of her curled on his bed wearing nothing but those diamonds, waiting for him to pet her. What was with the dominant fantasies? He’d never explored that kind of play before. But he ached for her complete submission to him. Not as a king, but as a man. As the lover to whom she would allow absolute access—to every inch of her skin, to those secrets in her soul. He wanted complete possession. And equally he ached to fall to his knees before her and feel the honour of her touch, her caress.

The power she could wield over him was startling in its intensity and the dominance in his thinking. He could never allow lust to bring him—and the monarchy—to its knees.

Tags: Natalie Anderson Billionaire Romance
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