Beholden to the Throne - By Carol Marinelli Page 0,20

her lips. The pleasure he had forgone was now remembered, except with a different slant—for he tasted not any woman, but Amy. And she was more than simply pleasing. He liked the stilling of her breath as his mouth shocked her, liked the fight for control beneath his hands. Her mouth was still but her body was succumbing; he felt her momentary pause and then her mouth gave in to him, and for Emir there was something unexpected—an emotion he had never tasted in a woman. All the anger she had held in check was delivered in her response. It was a savage kiss that met him now, a different kiss, and he was hard in response. The gentle lovemaking he had intended, the tender seduction he had pictured, changed as she kissed him back.

He was surprised by the intensity of her passion, by the bundle of emotion in his arms, for though she fought him still her mouth was kissing him.

It was Emir who withdrew. He looked down at her flushed, angry face.

‘Why the temper, Amy?’

‘Because I didn’t want you to know!’

‘Know?’ And he looked down and saw the lust she had kept hidden, felt the burn of her arousal beneath him. It consumed him, endeared her to him, told him his decision was the right one. ‘Why would you not want me to know?’

‘Because …’ His mouth was at her ear, his breath making her shiver. She turned her face away at the admission, but it did not stop his pursuit, more stealthy now, and more delicious. ‘It can come to nothing.’

‘It can …’ Emir said. She loathed her own weakness, but now she had tasted him she wanted him so.

‘Please …’ The word spilled from her lips; it sounded as if she was begging. ‘Take me back to the tent.’

Except he wanted her now. His hands were at the buttons of her robe, pulling it down over her shoulders. Their kisses were frantic, their want building. She grappled with his robe, felt the leather that held his sword and the power of the man who was about to make love to her. She was kissing a king and it terrified her, but still it was delicious, still it inflamed her as his words attempted to soothe her.

‘The people will come to accept it …’

He was kissing her neck now, moving down to her exposed breast. She ached for his mouth there, ached to give in to his mastery, but her mind struggled to understand his words. ‘The people …?’

‘When I take you as my bride.’

‘Bride!’ He might as well have pushed her into the water. She felt the plunge into confusion and struggled to come up for air, felt the horror as history repeated itself. It was happening again.

‘Emir—no!’

‘Yes.’ He thought she was overwhelmed by his offer—did not recognise she was dying in his arms, as his mouth moved back to take her again, to calm her. But when she spoke he froze.

‘I can’t have children.’

She watched the words paralyse him, saw his pupils constrict, and then watched him make an attempt to right his features. To his credit he did not drop her, but his arms stilled at her sides and then his forehead rested on hers as the enormity of her words set in.

‘I had a riding accident and it left me unable to have children.’ Somehow she managed to speak; somehow, before she broke down, she managed to find her voice.

‘I’m sorry.’

‘My fiancé was too.’

With a sob she turned from him, pulled her robe over her naked breasts and did up the buttons as she ran to where the horses were tethered. She didn’t possess any fear as she untied her mare and mounted it, because fear was nothing compared to grief. She kicked her into a canter and when that did not help she galloped. She could hear the sound of Emir’s beast rapidly gaining on her, could hear his shouts for her to halt, and finally she did, turning her pained eyes to him.

‘I lay for five days on a machine that made me breathe and I heard my fiancé speaking with his mother. That was how I found out I couldn’t have children. That was how I heard him say there really was no point marrying me …’ She was breathless from riding, from anger, yet still she shouted. ‘Of course that’s not what he told me when I came round—he said the accident had made him realise that, though he