Modern Romance November 2016 Books 5-8. Rachael Thomas

She was obeying orders. ‘Why don’t you wait in the bedroom for me?’

      ‘You will call me if you want anything?’

      ‘I will,’ she promised. ‘Thank you, Clotilde.’

      Her new companion beamed as she closed the bathroom door behind her.

      Alone for the first time since she’d awoken that morning, Catalina closed her eyes and wished away the tears still gathering behind her lids.

      She’d had three dedicated rooms in the palace. How could all that have been reduced to two suitcases of basic everyday clothing? Everything of sentimental or monetary value had been left behind. Her portion of her mother’s jewellery...

      She could understand why her father had kept the heirlooms that had been passed down through the House of Fernandez, although it would have been nice if he’d mentioned his intentions to her. But why would he take her mother’s personal pieces, the items she’d been gifted or had inherited from her own family? They had never belonged to him.

      Placing a hand to her stomach, she wondered, not for the first time, if it was a boy or a girl growing inside her.

      It wasn’t just her mother’s jewellery and most of her wardrobe, everything passed on by her mother had been kept behind. The same went for her book and art collection, all of the things Catalina had expected to pass on to her own children.

      Nothing could have told her more that she was an outcast from her family.

      Nathaniel might have dismissed her fears but she knew in her heart that her instincts had been right. Her father and brother had fired a warning shot at her. She was owned entirely by the House of Fernandez. This was their way of telling her that if she didn’t behave herself, she would never be allowed back in the fold.

      She was doing everything they wanted and still they wanted more for their pound of flesh.

      For the first time she questioned whether she wanted to return to the fold.

      She’d spent her life believing in duty and loyalty. Was it too much to expect some loyalty and compassion in return?

      * * *

      Nathaniel put his files away, turned his laptop and desktop off, checked his phone for messages and decided to call it a night.

      As he stepped out of his office, movement behind him made him turn.

      Catalina stood half in and half out of the sitting room, hovering in the doorway. ‘I thought I heard a noise,’ she said softly.

      ‘I’m just finishing for the night.’ He shut the door behind him and kept his hand on the handle, trying not to notice that she was wearing a long white Victorian nightdress with a high neck but also the thinnest of sleeves that showed off her slender arms. Her raven hair was loose and spilled down her back and over her shoulders. She looked innocent. Clean and pure. Yet her innate sexiness shone through.

      He cleared his throat. ‘Where is Clotilde?’ Assigning Catalina a dedicated companion in his household had worked out as well for him as it had for her. He’d made it to three days of living under the same roof without finding himself alone with his wife. Until now.

      ‘She’s making me a hot chocolate.’ One bare, creamy shoulder lifted. ‘She wouldn’t let me help.’

      ‘I should think not.’ His staff had strict instructions—under no circumstances should the Princess do anything for herself. Frederic had spoken to a senior member of the palace staff who’d informed him the only personal duty the royal family performed for themselves was the brushing of their teeth. The King, however, left even that for one of his minions. It was an alien lifestyle to Nathaniel, even with the vast wealth he’d accumulated, which easily rivalled that of the House of Fernandez. ‘How are you settling in? Have you everything you need?’

      ‘Your staff are taking good care of me.’ Catalina stepped out from the threshold and stood before him, a shrewdness to her stare. ‘Will I be seeing you tomorrow?’

      ‘I’ll be at home.’

      ‘That’s not what I asked.’

      ‘I know.’ He ran a hand through his hair, pretending not to notice that the light she stood under had the effect of making her nightdress almost transparent. ‘I’ll be here but working again.’

      Her lips tightened a touch but she gave the graceful nod he’d been fascinated by for years. It was a nod that could mean anything and nothing. It gave away nothing of her thoughts.

      Breathing had become a struggle. The outline of her breasts was clearly visible beneath the fabric.

      A seemingly modest, old-fashioned nightdress had kick-started his libido better than any overtly sexy lingerie ever could. Because he knew what lay beneath it and the ecstasy he had found in her arms.

      She couldn’t be aware of how exposed she was; not when she could be seen by any member of his staff. Catalina was no exhibitionist.

      He shouldn’t be staring. He wasn’t a lusty teenager...but, he had to admit, being within three feet of her made him feel like one. She was walking temptation, a danger to him as great as the biggest temptation he had ever known, which had ruined his life all those years ago, making him an outcast from what remained of his family.

      His seduction of Catalina had almost made her an outcast from her family. It still could.

      There had been no quell in his desire for her. None at all. He’d spent the past three days catching up on paperwork but had only accomplished a tenth of what he’d set out to do. The rest of the time he’d spent gazing at the office door wondering what she was doing at that precise moment.

      He could tell himself it was concern for a princess yanked from her palace to live amongst commoners that had him constantly thinking about her. But lying to himself was something he hadn’t tolerated since he was seventeen, when he’d lied to himself that his libido was stronger than his morals. The truth was he had spent the days thinking of Catalina because her living under the same roof as him had increased the vividness of his memories of their night together. He could see her as clearly with his eyes open as when they were shut.

      He might have successfully avoided her by locking himself away in his office but her presence had been with him nonetheless.

      And here she was now, her eyes piercing him, her scent tantalising him, her body visibly naked beneath her thin...

      ‘You should think about wearing a robe with that nightdress,’ he snapped with an unintended brusqueness.

      Her pretty brows drew together. ‘Why?’ Then she looked down, looked up at the light, looked down again, and turned the colour of a radish.

      This was the moment he should retire to his bedroom. He should be far away from her, not fighting the urge to pin her to the passageway wall and strip that nightdress off her.

      ‘I think you must use brighter light bulbs than we use in the palace,’ she whispered after moments of painful silence. Strangely, she made no effort to cover herself or step out from under the light and her eyes held his.

      It was only Clotilde appearing from the left, a bone china cup and saucer in hand—someone in his household must have bought them in especially for the Princess because, as far as he was aware, everyone in his household drank from mugs, himself included—that broke the tension between them.

      Catalina stepped immediately out of the light bulb’s glare and, with only the smallest of catches in her voice, thanked Clotilde.

      Clotilde, blissfully unaware that she had walked into anything—nothing, he reprimanded himself sharply; she hadn’t interrupted anything—beamed and turned to Nathaniel. ‘Can I get you a hot chocolate too? Or fix you a nightcap?’

      ‘I’ll fix my own when I’m ready.’ Nodding at them both without making eye contact, he bid them goodnight and disappeared to his bedroom.

      * * *

      Catalina