Prince Ferdinando had made good on his promise. He’d secured her passage on a ship bound for England. In hours, she would be aboard the vessel, sailing back across the sea. She bit her lip to quell the rising tide of grief, so bitter and powerful that it threatened to drown her.
It was better, she told herself sternly.
She couldn’t live this way, granted only the smallest scraps of his affections and time. He was a king with many duties to attend to, and yesterday had been a testament to that fact, just as the betrothal feast the evening before had been. She’d scarcely seen him as he had been closeted in meetings with his privy council and the princess and her newly arrived brother. His summons had arrived late in the evening, a liveried servant who had tapped at her door and informed her that His Majesty requested her attendance in his private apartments.
For a wild moment, she had considered denying him. But then she had realized she couldn’t bear to squander any of the time she had remaining with Maxim, regardless of its cost to her pride. He had greeted her with a passionate kiss, and they had removed each other’s clothing in a frenzied rush. They’d made love twice, the first time hurried and frantic, the second slowly and tenderly.
She’d spent the hours afterward scarcely sleeping, her mind crackling with the knowledge that she would soon have to go. And now, although she had willed the passing hours to progress torpidly, the time had come for her to rise and dress.
With a whisper of a touch, she traced the crisp whiskers covering his jaw.
He was so beloved to her, the powerful warrior king who had fought for years to assume his throne. The man who bore scars on his mind and heart as well as his body. What horrors he must have seen and endured. And yet, for her, he was gentle with his hands, his desire, his kisses. For her, he was vulnerable.
Prince Ferdinando’s warning returned to her, taunting her now.
If you leave him, he’ll be devastated.
Would he be? Maxim had not spoken of love, and she couldn’t be certain there would be room in his heart for anyone else after the death of his first wife. Slowly, taking care not to wake him, she pressed her lips lightly to his, stealing one last kiss.
It would have to be enough to carry her through. Tears burned her eyes as she slipped from the bed, shivering at the chill in the air. The fire had burned low, and the morning air was crisp and unforgiving, an icy rebuke against her bare skin. She found her chemise flung across a chair and pulled it swiftly over her head, trying to think about the future looming before her instead of the pain leaving him would cause.
She had a small amount of funds with which to support herself after her arrival in England. She would need to find a situation. Returning to Boritania in its present state was out of the question, and since she knew no one in England, she would have to find some means. Perhaps she could work as a governess or?—
“Where are you going?”
The deep, decadent voice interrupted her thoughts.
Tansy’s breath caught as she jumped and whirled to face Maxim on the bed. He had leveraged himself on one forearm, making the bedclothes fall to his waist, and he looked impossibly handsome, his muscled chest on display, his hair mussed, his eyes dark and intense.
“I thought you were asleep,” she managed past the emotion clogging her throat.
Heavens, how could she leave him when he was awake? She should have left sooner rather than lingering. She shouldn’t have dared that final kiss.
“Someone kissed me awake.”
So ithadbeen her foolish urge to kiss him, then.
“Forgive me,” she said quietly. “I had intended to leave you to your rest.”
“I’ll only forgive you on one condition.” Giving her a sinful smile, he held out his hand in invitation. “Come back to bed, love. I’m not finished with you just yet.”
Longing pulsed to life, a restless hunger that would never be soothed. Being with Maxim only made her want him more. And knowing that she could no longer have him, that she would never see him again after today, was breaking her apart inside.
“I should leave your apartments before the servants are about,” she protested, wanting to go to him and yet fearing the consequences if she did.
“The only thing you should do is come back to me.” He flipped back the bedclothes to reveal his cock, rising thick and hard. “Don’t leave me in this state. It’s criminal.”
As she watched in helpless thrall, he gave his beautiful cock a leisurely stroke. Her sex clenched at the sight. Unabashed desire arced through her. She ached for him to be inside her.
One more time, whispered a wicked voice inside her.
Just one more time.
The ship wasn’t leaving until the afternoon. She had already packed her meager belongings.
Her feet were moving of their own accord. She reached the bed, and he caught her waist in his hands, lifting her easily atop him.
“This is how I prefer to spend my mornings,” he said appreciatively, his voice gruff, his gaze roving over her with frank admiration. “There’s only one thing wrong. You’re wearing this blasted chemise.”
