Men In Uniform: Captivated By The Prince. Lynn Raye Harris

them rather than a love affair mattered more to her than she could ever have imagined. It hurt like hell, she realised wistfully.

      Plucking out the last of the pins holding her hair in place, she allowed it to spill over her shoulders and began to brush it with long, impassioned sweeps.

      It was hard to believe she had been naïve enough to think she could simply pick up the pieces of her carefree single life and transfer them to Ferara with the rest of her luggage. Naïve? Her naïvety had been monumental, Emily thought, shaking her head angrily and then tossing the brush aside.

      The wedding changed everything she realised, remembering the solemn vows she had made. Alessandro was her husband now, and she was his wife. And with those simple facts came hope, desire, expectation—and, most pressing of all, she thought, ramming her lips together as she tried not to cry, was the need to spend at least your wedding night with your husband.

      Once they’d left the cathedral there had hardly been a chance for her to speak to him. And even when they had opened the reception by dancing together there had been constant interruptions. And she hadn’t helped matters, Emily thought, remembering how stiffly she had held herself. There had been a moment when the toasts were made—Alessandro’s hand had closed over her own as they’d sliced through a tier of the wedding cake and she had felt her whole body rebel and strain towards him. But she had clenched her fist over the handle until her knuckles had turned white and hurt…and apart from that—

      She started at the knock on the door.

      She had sent everyone away, taking the chance, once she had showered, to slip into a clean old top that had somehow found its way into the bottom of her suitcase. It didn’t matter what she looked like. It could only be the maid with some hot milk, she reasoned, hurrying to the door.

      ‘Alessandro!’

      She felt foolish, standing there with bare feet, wearing nothing except an old faded top while her husband looked every bit as resplendent in a simple black silk robe as he had in full dress uniform, with medals and sash of office.

      ‘I just came to see if you were all right…if you had everything you need,’ he said, appearing not to register her choice of clothes as he scanned her sumptuous quarters as if running a mental inventory.

      ‘I’m fine,’ Emily replied. ‘Just a little tired.’

      ‘You looked beautiful today.’ As he turned to look at her his gaze was steady and warm. ‘Thank you, Emily.’

      ‘It was nothing,’ she lied, forcing a smile. But her glance strayed to his mouth as she remembered his kiss at the culmination of their marriage ceremony…chaste and dutiful maybe, but it still possessed the power to thrill her like no other kiss could ever hope to again. Recklessly she relived it now, briefly, self-indulgently, closing her eyes for just an instant as faint echoes of sensation shimmered through her frame.

      ‘I think it all went well,’ Alessandro said, breaking into her reverie.

      ‘Yes,’ she managed tightly. ‘It all went very well. Miranda is in seventh heaven. The violin is everything—’

      ‘Can we talk about us for a moment?’

      His expression was hidden in shadow as he moved away from her towards one of the heavily draped windows, but Emily knew something had upset him. Perhaps he thought the violin too high a price to pay for a woman for whom he felt nothing.

      ‘There’s no reason why it should be awkward between us—’ he began.

      Awkward between them! What the hell was he talking about? Alessandro thought angrily, balling his hands into fists while in his mind the image of some rare bloom overlaid the fever. He swung around to look at her. Petals bruised easily, too easily—

      ‘Are you all right?’ Emily said, reaching out a hand. Then, remembering her position, she let it fall back again by her side.

      He was completely naked under the robe; she was sure of it. Her speech had thickened as erotic possibilities crowded her mind…No one need ever know. They could be lovers and still end the contract as agreed. Just the possibility was a seduction in itself…The walls were twelve feet thick in this part of the old palace, she remembered. And their rooms were interconnecting. Most of the servants were still celebrating at one of the many parties in the palace grounds—she could still hear periodic explosions from the fireworks outside.

      ‘I’m not aware of any awkwardness between us,’ she said, in an attempt to prolong the conversation, trying not to stare too blatantly at the outline of his hard frame so clear in silhouette as he stood with his back to the window.

      She was standing close to him now…close enough to detect the tang of the lemony soap he must have used in the shower. Closing her eyes, she inhaled deeply, then murmured dreamily, ‘Don’t worry, Alessandro. I’m completely at ease—’

      She gasped in alarm as his fist hit the wall.

      ‘“Don’t worry, Alessandro”?’ he mimicked softly, dangerously, and so close to her lips she could feel his warm breath on her face. ‘How can you ask me not to worry? Am I the only one tense here? Don’t lie to me, Emily,’ he warned, pulling back. ‘You’re about as at ease with all this as I am.’

      He took a couple of steps away, as if he couldn’t bear to be close to her any more than she could bear to be parted from him.

      ‘Please don’t waste your breath on innocent protestations,’ he said. ‘I know you’re lying to me. We’re both in this over our heads, and you know it.’

      ‘We knew what we were getting into—’

      ‘Oh, did we?’ He cut in sceptically. ‘You’re quite sure about that, are you, Emily? You’re quite sure nothing’s changed between us now that we’re man and wife?’

      He had taken the same mental journey she had, Emily realised with surprise. And each nuance in his voice betrayed the fact that he was every bit as disturbed by his thoughts as she was by her own.

      ‘It’s our wedding night—’

      ‘So?’ he demanded harshly.

      ‘My no-sex clause—’ She felt so foolish, so exposed. ‘We could—’

      ‘Forget it?’ he suggested.

      His gently mocking tone nudged her senses until she was unbearably aroused; the wet triangle of lace between her legs stretched taut in the struggle to contain her excitement.

      ‘I don’t think so, Emily,’ he said harshly.

      Every last remaining strand of common sense told her he was right, while her instinct, her desire, every hectic beat of her heart said she would stop at nothing to change his mind…But once the terms of their contract were satisfied he would need to move on, Emily reminded herself. Marry a woman of his own choosing—someone, as he had already intimated, who could shoulder the responsibilities of Ferara as an equal partner. There would be no place for her in Ferara then, so she would just have to find some way to rein in her hunger for that country’s prince sooner rather than later.

      Switching on the smile that had served her so well throughout the day, she agreed tonelessly that she did have everything she needed. But, just when she was complimenting herself on the cool way in which she’d handled the situation, Alessandro threw everything into confusion again.

      ‘I suppose we could do as you suggest—keep the terms of our contract and yet have an affair,’ he suggested bitterly.

      There were a few moments of stunned silence, then Emily laughed nervously—as if to show she knew he couldn’t possibly be serious.

      ‘What do you think, Emily?’

      ‘What do I think?’

      What did she think? She wasn’t incapable of any thought, Emily realised as she watched him caress the door handle. Her belly ached with need for him. She was utterly beguiled by his strength, by the subtlety in his hands and