Marrying His Majesty. Marion Lennox

other… care.

      Alex.

      He looked appalled. It helped, she decided, that he looked appalled at what she’d gone through. When she let herself think about it, she was pretty appalled herself.

      That he was horrified on her behalf… It did something to her insides. There was a warmth forming inside her—a glow that was starting to build.

      She looked down at the bed, where he still sat holding Michales on his knee.

      Her men.

      Her family.

      She’d never had family. Her mother had been entirely uninterested in her sickly daughter. Her father had been elderly when she was born and their relationship had been built on Lily’s role as carer. Mia simply didn’t want to be a part of her life.

      But here… this man didn’t want her to care for him, she thought.

      This man cared.

      Um… no. He’d been horrified at an appalling story. Nothing more.

      So don’t get your hopes up, she told herself severely.

      Michales was starting to grizzle. After his swim and shower and feed he should be drifting into sleep.

      So be a mother, she reminded herself sharply.

      She lifted Michales from Alex’s arms, held him to her shoulder and rubbed his back.

      He emitted one very satisfactory belch.

      Alex’s brows hiked in amazement. ‘Is he supposed to do that?’

      As an ice breaker it was great. The tension inside the room fizzled and died, and she found she could smile, too.

      ‘Better out than in, wouldn’t you say?’ She was laying Michales into his cot. He’d had a very busy day for a baby. A wedding, a reception, a first ever swim… He snuggled down, his eyes closing almost before he was tucked in.

      She stood gazing down at him. When she looked up, Alex was standing beside her.

      The tension zoomed in again.

      ‘What?’ she said, suddenly breathless.

      ‘You’re beautiful,’ he said on a note of discovery.

      ‘Yeah, dressed to kill.’ Jeans and T-shirt. Her standard uniform for life. She’d left the scarf off. Why bother?

      ‘Lily… ’

      ‘Let’s not,’ she managed.

      ‘Not what?’

      ‘Whatever you’re about to say. Like paying compliments. I don’t like it.’

      ‘You don’t like compliments?’

      ‘Mia gets the compliments. You want Mia? You need to line up behind a guy called Ben.’

      ‘You’re nothing like Mia.’

      ‘Well, there’s the truth. Can you excuse me? I need to unpack.’ She made to go past him but his hands caught her shoulders and held.

      ‘Lily, can we start again?’

      ‘I don’t know what you mean.’

      ‘Wind the clock back,’ he said softly. ‘So we don’t have baggage between us.’

      ‘By baggage I guess you mean Michales.’

      ‘He’s very noisy baggage,’ he said and smiled as he glanced into the cot. ‘I doubt he fits the description. But in a way… he complicates things. Your illness complicates things. All sorts of things complicate… things.’

      ‘What do you mean?’

      ‘Between you and me.’

      ‘There’s nothing… ’

      ‘You see, that’s where we differ.’ He moved so he had a hand on each arm. His hands were on her bare skin. They felt big and warm and sure. In his hold she suddenly felt… safe.

      ‘Alex, don’t,’ she murmured but still he held her, his eyes asking questions.

      ‘Don’t what?’

      ‘H-hold me.’

      ‘You don’t want to be held?’

      ‘I’m scared.’ It wasn’t true, but it was what she ought to feel. She should be running a mile. But she could give herself to him.

      The idea was suddenly there, and it was so overwhelming that scared was the right description. To give herself to this man…

      She’d married him, she thought, frantically trying to get her hormones under control. But to fall in love with him… To give her heart…

      She already had.

      Sensations were sweeping in from all sides.

      And suddenly she was remembering how she’d felt during those last appalling months, as the tumour in her head had threatened to overwhelm her. She’d had times when she was dazed, confused, disoriented. The sensation of being out of control was terrifying.

      Gazing at Alex now, that was how she felt. As if her body wasn’t her own. As if her head wasn’t her own.

      ‘Lily, what is it?’ He was gazing at her in concern. Something of what she was feeling must have shown in her face, for the grip of his hands changed. It was a subtle shift. Not a withdrawal exactly but… From the beginnings of passion, it had changed to a hold of comfort. ‘Lily, I won’t hurt you.’

      ‘I know you won’t.’ But here was a shift again. She didn’t want him to look like that. She didn’t want this man’s sympathy.

      The night Michales had been conceived had been a night out of frame. She’d emerged from plain, frightened Lily to being someone else. She’d been seductive, wild and free.

      It had been imaginary.

      It had been fun.

      The memory of that fun was with her now, like an itch building within. Goading her. Go on, Lily. You know you can be like that again. If you dare…

      ‘Alex, are you suggesting… that you want this marriage for real?’ she whispered.

      ‘What do you mean?’

      ‘I know it’s not love at first sight or anything like that,’ she said hurriedly. ‘But we’ve… we’ve got this attraction thing going.’

      ‘We do.’ He sounded puzzled, but laughter was replacing sympathy. Which was what she wanted—wasn’t it?

      No. She wanted a serious discussion.

      ‘I’d prefer it if you didn’t laugh,’ she told him, and he schooled his expression to gravity.

      ‘Of course. I’m not laughing. So you’re saying we might be attracted to one another. I agree. So where might that be taking us?’

      ‘See, here’s the thing,’ she said, fighting for courage. But suddenly she was sure she was right. Mia wasn’t the only one who could fight for what she wanted, she thought. All her life she’d let events shape her course. Now… she had her life back. She had a beautiful baby, and before her was the most gorgeous prince in the known universe and he was her husband. Whatever the reason for the marriage, marriage it clearly was.

      So here was the idea. What was the harm in asking for more?

      ‘When we made our wedding vows, did you mean any of them?’ she asked quickly, before any more qualms raised their heads.

      ‘You mean keeping me only unto you for as long as we both shall live?’ he asked, and the laughter in his eyes had suddenly gone. ‘Lily… ’

      She hadn’t meant to get this serious; it was scary. ‘I didn’t mean that,’ she said hurriedly. ‘I wouldn’t ask that.