Page 25 of The Heir Affair

The endorphin rush had him smiling, even as he struggled to make sense of the rush of possessiveness.

He pressed his face into the soft cloud of curls and inhaled her scent.

‘We shouldn’t have done that…’ she said, blunt as ever. But the strain in her voice—and her body—made him more determined not to let her go.

‘Why not?’ he asked, keeping his voice even, despite his rising irritation. Why could she not accept she was his responsibility now?

She shifted to glance over her shoulder, her face a picture of consternation and frustration.

‘Because we’re not… We’re not a couple.’

He steeled himself against the stab of impatience at her obstinacy. How could he want her so much when she was so damn frustrating?

His hand roamed over the compact bulge, cradling their baby.

‘Are we not?’ he asked, keeping his tone neutral and ignoring the renewed ripple of desire—and irritation.

Why he found her curves even more erotic now he had no idea, but he could make an educated guess. Was this how all men responded to the sight of their child growing? Because he had been nothing short of unhinged when he had stripped off the nightgown to find the changes his baby had wrought. Her enlarged nipples, the swollen breasts, the smooth bulge he couldn’t stop caressing even now.

But he had no wish to trigger another pointless argument. That first apology had been excruciating enough.

She huffed. ‘You’re engaged to someone else, Xander.’

The use of his usual name struck a dull chord inside his chest.

Was that regret, sadness? That she no longer thought of him as the man she had met that day? Why would he want her to call him Alex, when he did not want her to see him as that man? Vulnerable, captivated, exposed?

‘I am not yet officially engaged to Princess Freya,’ he remarked. ‘And anyway, it is of no consequence now…’

A sharp frown marred her brow. ‘It is to me. I don’t…’

He pressed his thumb to her lips to silence her protest. ‘Because Theo will inform her and her father today a marriage between us is no longer possible.’

She looked momentarily nonplussed. But if he had been expecting joy, or even gratitude, at this development—he was soon disappointed.

She struggled out of his arms and scooped the discarded robe off the bed to tug it on—covering all those delectable curves, still flushed with pleasure.

Pity.

She banded her arms around her waist, her gaze dropping to his still semi-erect flesh—which he saw no reason to hide. A blush scorched her cheeks.

She walked across the room to stare out at the sea as the yacht powered towards Sorrento. Her shoulders were rigid with tension. Oddly, he couldn’t help smiling at her typically complicated reaction.

Interesting that he still found that contradictory mix of innocence and awareness so intoxicating—and her stubborn refusal to bend to his will captivating, as well as annoying.

He sighed, sitting up to drag on his shorts. He didn’t particularly wish to get dressed. If only he could keep her in his bed until they reached Parádeisos, in three or four days’ time, it would make this whole situation far easier.

But then, nothing about Poppy Brown had ever been easy.

He followed her across the room. Her shoulders stiffened even more as she heard his approach, but her gaze remained riveted to the view from the yacht’s bow. The wake churned as they headed across the Bay of Naples. They would be anchored off Sorrento in an hour at most. And he did not want her to demand he let her go again.

Seducing her had seemed like a good way to ensure her compliance, but as soon as he had touched her, and she had responded, any thoughts of subtlety—of seduction—had been lost in a firestorm of need.

‘Why are you not pleased by the news that my marriage to Princess Freya is off?’ he asked, still confused by her less than enthusiastic reaction to the sacrifice he had made. He didn’t want to lose the land deal—or the months of negotiations it hadtaken to set it up—but still, he had not hesitated to risk it all by calling off the alliance, to concentrate on his responsibilities towards Poppy and their child. Surely she should be happy about his decision?

She looked over her shoulder. ‘I didn’t ask you to cancel your engagement, Xander.’

The bite of frustration was swiftly followed by something that felt uncomfortably like hurt.