Read Online His Majesty's Child by Sharon Kendrick - Free Book Online

contrived. ‘You are cleverer than I imagined,’ he said. And probably just as manipulative, he reminded himself grimly. How delighted she would be to discover thatshe knew more about him than his courtiers or even his brother! And yet, in some crazy way—wasn’t it something of a relief to be able to share the burden of his amnesia with someone?
    â€˜So you’re not denying that Ben could be your son?’ she questioned hopefully.
    Ben. Casimiro frowned. Giving the child a name only added another layer of complexity to the affair.
    â€˜I am conceding that it is a possibility.’
    It was better than nothing and Melissa bit her lip, wanting to blurt out her gratitude and yet some instinct stopping her from doing anything more than silently nodding her head.
    Casimiro studied her. He had been about to leave—to slam his way out and to make arrangements about a trip to England to see the child at some undetermined point in the future—while still nurturing the hope that she was a complete fantasist. But her perception had changed everything.
    He felt a pulse beat at his temple—because what she had learned was dangerous. Would she try to use the knowledge she’d gained to secure a place for herself in his life? he wondered. Knowledge was power—everyone knew that—and maybe it was time for a little redistribution of that power. Why waste his energy on pointless rage, when there was a much more satisfactory outlet which would serve him better…?
    Slowly, he let his gaze drift over her. At the fall of dark shiny hair which was now completely dry and shimmering around her narrow shoulders. At the bare legs and the unvarnished toenails. Beneath that hideous garment, she was completely naked; he knew that forhimself. And once again—despite his avowal of her unsuitability—he felt the hot, hard shimmering of desire.
    â€˜Come over here,’ he said silkily.
    Melissa blinked. She had been expecting anger—especially when she’d seen the shadowed expression on his face. But his face wasn’t looking in the least bit threatening now. On the contrary. She narrowed her eyes, wondering if she was misreading it. Seeing something there that she wanted to see rather than what really was. But no.
    His expression looked…inviting. Vital. The lips had softened—as if they were illustrating just how kissable they really were. And his eyes were dark—really dark—with that opaque kind of blackness which even someone with Melissa’s scant experience knew meant that he wanted her.
    â€˜Why?’ she whispered, her heart beginning to pound.
    â€˜Don’t let’s play games—not now. You know exactly why.’
    â€˜But you just, just—’
    â€˜Pushed you away?’
    â€˜ Yes .’
    â€˜Maybe I’ve realised what a fool I was being. Or maybe I just needed time for my body to make its protest known. And it is—believe me, it is—very loud and very clear.’ Glancing down with a rueful expression, he shrugged. ‘So come over here, Melissa.’
    â€˜No,’ she said, in a small voice.
    â€˜No? You refuse your King?’
    â€˜You are not my King and, yes, I am refusing you.’
    â€˜Why?’
    â€˜Because…’ Because you’ve already made a fool ofme. Because you could break my heart into a million pieces . ‘Because I’m here to discuss my son—and it’s not appropriate.’
    â€˜Not appropriate ?’ he mocked.
    â€˜N-no.’
    â€˜You think there’s some kind of social guideline for the bizarre situation in which we find our selves?’ he demanded, but, interestingly, her words only inflamed his growing desire—because refusal was something which Casimiro never encountered. ‘Then it seems that I must come to you, bella mia .’
    Her eyes widened in alarm but she could do nothing about the sudden prickle of her senses as he began to