The Forbidden Prince. Alison Roberts

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Название The Forbidden Prince
Автор произведения Alison Roberts
Жанр Контркультура
Серия Mills & Boon Cherish
Издательство Контркультура
Год выпуска 0
isbn 9781474041461



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      This was it.

      The challenge that was going to tell him who he really was. What his values really were and whether he was made of the right stuff to rule a country in the best interests of the many thousands of people who would be trusting him to do the right thing.

      He’d convinced himself that resisting the attraction he felt towards Mika was that test, so why—in this moment after those words had been uttered, when it felt as if time was holding its breath—did it feel so utterly wrong?

      As if he didn’t really have a choice at all?

      Again, he was reminded of when she had taken his hand, up there on the top of that cliff. Of when her trembling had finally ceased and he’d known she was trusting him.

      He’d felt taller, then. Powerful in a way that had had nothing to do with him as a prince but everything to do with who he was as a man. Nothing would have persuaded him to break that trust.

      And right now Mika was trusting him with so much more than her hand. She was asking him to take hold of her whole body, and by doing so he would still be leading her to safety—wouldn’t he?

      The Forbidden Prince

      Alison Roberts

       www.millsandboon.co.uk

      ALISON ROBERTS is a New Zealander, currently lucky enough to live near a beautiful beach in Auckland. She is also lucky enough to write for both the Mills & Boon Cherish and Medical Romance lines. A primary school-teacher in a former life, she is also a qualified paramedic. She loves to travel and dance, drink champagne and spend time with her daughter and her friends.

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      For Becky

      With all my love

      Contents

       COVER

       INTRODUCTION

       TITLE PAGE

       ABOUT THE AUTHOR

       DEDICATION

       CHAPTER THREE

       CHAPTER FOUR

       CHAPTER FIVE

       CHAPTER SIX

       CHAPTER SEVEN

       CHAPTER EIGHT

       CHAPTER NINE

       CHAPTER TEN

       CHAPTER ELEVEN

       CHAPTER TWELVE

       EPILOGUE

       EXTRACT

       COPYRIGHT

       CHAPTER ONE

      SO THIS WAS what freedom felt like.

      Raoul de Poitier sucked in a deep breath as he paused to get his first proper glimpse of the view he’d climbed about two thousand steps to find.

      He had the whole world at his feet.

      Well...he had what looked like a large part of the Amalfi coast of the Mediterranean down there, anyway. Far, far below he could pick out the tiny blue patch that was the swimming pool on the roof of the hotel Tramonto d’Oro where he’d stayed last night. Beside that was the tiled dome and spire of the ancient church against the terracotta tiles and white houses of the small coastal town of Praiano.

      Beyond the village, the waters of the Mediterranean stretched as far as the horizon, a breathtakingly sapphire blue as the sunlight gentled its way to dusk. Somewhere out there was his homeland—the European principality of Les Iles Dauphins.

      Another deep breath was released in what felt like a sigh, and with it came a pang of...what... homesickness? Guilt, perhaps?

      His grandfather was ill. His heart was failing and it was time for him to step down from ruling his land. To hand the responsibility to the next-in-line to the throne.

      His grandmother would be anxious. Not only about her beloved husband but about the grandson she’d raised as her own child after the tragic death of his parents.

      ‘I don’t understand, Raoul. A holiday...yes. Time to prepare yourself for what is to come. For your marriage... But alone? Incognito? That’s not who you are.’

      ‘Maybe that’s what I need to find out, Mamé. And this is the last chance I will ever get.’

      No. The pang wasn’t guilt. He needed this time to centre himself for what was to come. To be sure that he had what it took to put aside his own desires if that was what was required to protect and nurture a whole nation, albeit a tiny one. He was thirty-two years old but he hadn’t been really tested yet. Oh, there’d been formal duties that had got in the way of private pleasures, and he had always had to curb any desire to push the boundaries of behaviour that might be frowned on by others. But, within that reasonably relaxed circumference, he’d been able to achieve the career that had been top of