Read Online Forced Wife, Royal Love-Child by Trish Morey - Free Book Online
Authors: Trish Morey
Tags: Romance
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her until the end of tonight’s meal. And then he’d soon change her mind about leaving any time soon. One night had not been enough; he couldn’t imagine it being enough again. And, after the last fewfrenetic weeks, he deserved a little relaxation. What better way to get it?
Rafe sighed as he joined her at the table, pulling a chilled bottle from the antique silver ice bucket before reaching over to pour her a glass of the local wine, already looking forward to the next few nights. He needed a distraction from worries about casinos and international financing and rebuilding the world’s trust in Montvelatte. He needed something to persuade Sebastiano to ease off on the wife hunt. Just for a while.
‘No,’ she said, holding up one hand. ‘No wine, please.’
He held up the bottle so that she could see the label. ‘Are you sure? It’s a vintage San Margarita Superiore, the island’s pride and joy.’
She was shaking her head, the internationally acclaimed wine label with its clutch of gold-medal stickers from a dozen different wine shows clearly making no impression.
He moved the bottle and poured some of the straw-coloured liquid into his own glass. ‘Are you worried I might get you drunk and try to seduce you?’
For the first time since he’d sat down, her eyes flicked up to meet his. ‘Not at all. I’m worried I have to fly a helicopter tomorrow morning and I’m being professional. But if my caution stops me from doing something unwise into the deal, so much the better.’
He raised his eyebrows at her words, and at the opening she’d given him. ‘And would this thing you might otherwise do be so unwise?’
She flicked a napkin in her fingers, unfolding it before letting it settle on her lap. ‘I think so.’
‘Even though it might also be very pleasurable?’
Her chin set, she turned those deep honey-coloured eyes up to his once again, any intended coolness belied by the twin slashes of red adorning her cheeks, and he knew shewas remembering, as was he, just how pleasurable that night had been.
‘It would be a mistake,’ she said, her tone defiant, ‘and wherever possible, I try to avoid making the same mistake twice.’
The words grated on his senses, as did her ability to turn defensiveness into attack. He replaced the bottle in the ice bucket with a satisfying crunch, half tempted to tell her she wasn’t going anywhere tomorrow or any time soon until he was good and finished with her.
But as he’d seen before, that would merely fuel her resistance. And he didn’t want resistance. He wanted her warm and willing and begging him to fill her. And he wanted it all tonight.
Rafe forced a smile to his lips as he raised his glass to her in a toast. ‘Then we must ensure you are not tempted to repeat any of the so-called mistakes of the past. Please, eat up.’
Sienna did eat up, as course after course of the most amazing food was delivered steaming-hot to her door. And she knew it must be amazing from the descriptions he gave her along the way, though she never tasted a thing, not the crayfish-filled ravioli or the lightly dusted tender calamari. Even the most succulent quail was completely wasted on her. The fine textures she could appreciate, but nothing of the taste.
Not with him sitting there, so close, so larger than life.
A man she had slept with once before.
A man who had made it plain that he wanted to sleep with her again.
And, if she were true to herself, a man who, despite everything, tempted her more than she cared to admit.
‘Why did Signorina Genevieve come today?’ she asked, as she contemplated the stunning dessert that had been placed before her. Fresh berries and cream lay sandwiched between wafers of meringue, creating a tower of colour and summerdelights circled with a raspberry coulis and sprinkled with icing sugar, and she honestly wished she could appreciate it more, but the question had been circling through Sienna’s thoughts for some time. That and the
Rafe sighed as he joined her at the table, pulling a chilled bottle from the antique silver ice bucket before reaching over to pour her a glass of the local wine, already looking forward to the next few nights. He needed a distraction from worries about casinos and international financing and rebuilding the world’s trust in Montvelatte. He needed something to persuade Sebastiano to ease off on the wife hunt. Just for a while.
‘No,’ she said, holding up one hand. ‘No wine, please.’
He held up the bottle so that she could see the label. ‘Are you sure? It’s a vintage San Margarita Superiore, the island’s pride and joy.’
She was shaking her head, the internationally acclaimed wine label with its clutch of gold-medal stickers from a dozen different wine shows clearly making no impression.
He moved the bottle and poured some of the straw-coloured liquid into his own glass. ‘Are you worried I might get you drunk and try to seduce you?’
For the first time since he’d sat down, her eyes flicked up to meet his. ‘Not at all. I’m worried I have to fly a helicopter tomorrow morning and I’m being professional. But if my caution stops me from doing something unwise into the deal, so much the better.’
He raised his eyebrows at her words, and at the opening she’d given him. ‘And would this thing you might otherwise do be so unwise?’
She flicked a napkin in her fingers, unfolding it before letting it settle on her lap. ‘I think so.’
‘Even though it might also be very pleasurable?’
Her chin set, she turned those deep honey-coloured eyes up to his once again, any intended coolness belied by the twin slashes of red adorning her cheeks, and he knew shewas remembering, as was he, just how pleasurable that night had been.
‘It would be a mistake,’ she said, her tone defiant, ‘and wherever possible, I try to avoid making the same mistake twice.’
The words grated on his senses, as did her ability to turn defensiveness into attack. He replaced the bottle in the ice bucket with a satisfying crunch, half tempted to tell her she wasn’t going anywhere tomorrow or any time soon until he was good and finished with her.
But as he’d seen before, that would merely fuel her resistance. And he didn’t want resistance. He wanted her warm and willing and begging him to fill her. And he wanted it all tonight.
Rafe forced a smile to his lips as he raised his glass to her in a toast. ‘Then we must ensure you are not tempted to repeat any of the so-called mistakes of the past. Please, eat up.’
Sienna did eat up, as course after course of the most amazing food was delivered steaming-hot to her door. And she knew it must be amazing from the descriptions he gave her along the way, though she never tasted a thing, not the crayfish-filled ravioli or the lightly dusted tender calamari. Even the most succulent quail was completely wasted on her. The fine textures she could appreciate, but nothing of the taste.
Not with him sitting there, so close, so larger than life.
A man she had slept with once before.
A man who had made it plain that he wanted to sleep with her again.
And, if she were true to herself, a man who, despite everything, tempted her more than she cared to admit.
‘Why did Signorina Genevieve come today?’ she asked, as she contemplated the stunning dessert that had been placed before her. Fresh berries and cream lay sandwiched between wafers of meringue, creating a tower of colour and summerdelights circled with a raspberry coulis and sprinkled with icing sugar, and she honestly wished she could appreciate it more, but the question had been circling through Sienna’s thoughts for some time. That and the
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