Their Royal Baby Gift Read online

‘I’m glad you’re feeling better.’ He sounded genuinely pleased he had met her needs. It wasn’t something she was used to. The men in her world were not the kind, caring type—with the exception of her brother Jay. This man was considerate, caring and hot. It was a dizzying combination.

  She needed to make her gratitude clear. ‘Thank you. For rescuing me. For making me feel less embarrassed about making such a fool of myself. For all of this.’ With the wave of her chopsticks, she encompassed the meal, the room. ‘You’ve been such a gentleman.’

  Hidden beneath her polite words was an urgent subtext she would never allow to be voiced. What she’d appreciated the most was the pleasure of being held in his arms. The intimacy of his hug. Even the memory of it sent arousal tingling through her body.

  She wanted more.

  * * *

  Edward gritted his teeth. If only Ms Mermaid knew just how very ungentlemanly he was feeling. His unexpected guest made a hotel dressing gown look like the sexiest of evening gowns—and he’d become obsessed with the desire to slide it off her.

  His heart had started to pound as she’d made her way from the bathroom to the living room. The black velvet had swished around her legs, highlighting the alluring sway of her hips, giving him enticing glimpses of slender pale legs. He strongly suspected she was naked under the gown. The hotel tried to anticipate a guest’s every need, but underwear for a woman whose clothes had suffered a plunge in the swimming pool was almost certainly not stocked in the bathroom.

  Now, as she sat opposite him, the lapels of the dressing gown had fallen open just enough to reveal a tantalising hint of cleavage. Her hair swung sleek over her shoulders, reddish glints caught by the late afternoon sunlight filtering through the glass doors that led to the balcony.

  She was beautiful.

  His heart pounded harder just looking at her.

  More than just beautiful.

  He wasn’t a man prey to instant infatuation. Such madness was not to be tolerated in the life that had been mapped out for him. Yet he was utterly fascinated by this woman who he had, on an uncharacteristic impulse, pulled to safety from the pool.

  The intense attraction wasn’t just about her good looks. It wasn’t just sexual—although that was certainly there. Man, was it there. There was something about the light in her eyes, her generous smile, the musical tone of her voice. It was an indefinable pull towards this woman that was impossible to explain or analyse because he had never before felt anything like it.

  He wanted to lean across the table, take her hand in his, make an amusing comment about what an unusual way it was to meet. Tell her he was glad that he had happened to be walking by as she tripped. Confess he was a great believer in fate and that fate had brought her to him. Ask her if she was married, engaged, promised—she wore no rings on either hand. Suggest that the dim sum could be followed by dinner in the private dining room of the most fashionable club in Singapore.

  But the reality of Edward’s situation punched into him to deflate every such fantasy. He could take none of those actions. He was thirty-one years old and under pressure from his father to make a politically advantageous marriage. An arranged marriage, with a bride chosen for him by his parents, the King and Queen. As Crown Prince of the south-east Asian kingdom of Tianlipin, Edward was duty-bound to do what was best not for him but for his country.

  His father’s dissolute older twin brothers had brought disgrace to the kingdom. The corrupt former King—older than his identical twin by ten minutes—had died in dubious circumstances. His twin and heir had been arrested for embezzlement on a grand scale, forced to relinquish his claim to the throne and live in exile. Edward’s father—the youngest brother—had had to step up to the throne, clear up the mess his brothers had made and regain the trust of their people.

  The current King’s rule was a very different one, based on a strong moral code, honour, service and above all duty. That had been drummed into Edward ever since his father had ascended the throne when Edward had been ten years old. He’d gone from carefree son of a third son to Crown Prince. That was when the choice of how he, as heir to the throne, might live his life had been taken away from him.

  Edward’s future wife had been chosen for him, although they were not as yet engaged. She was ten years younger than him. There had been one awkward meeting between them. Sparks had not flown. Certainly not on his side and not, Edward suspected, on her side either. In fact, he wasn’t sure he’d even liked the young Princess.

  But his rogue uncles had not only put a dent in his country’s treasury with their decadent excesses but also soured relations with neighbouring kingdoms with which Tianlipin had formed alliances centuries ago. Marriage to the Princess, daughter of their closest ally and trading partner would, according to Edward’s parents, go a long way to righting the lingering wrongs of his uncles. Bound by duty and honour, he had had little choice but to agree.

  Edward had had girlfriends. There had been a certain amount of freedom when he had studied for post-graduate degrees in England and America as plain Edward Chen instead of Chen Wangzi—wangzi meaning prince in his language—Prince Chen of Tianlipin. To English speakers he was Prince Edward. However, because he was unlikely to be able to choose his own bride, he had always held back on his emotions. Only once had he allowed himself to fall in love, with disastrous consequences for both himself and his ‘unsuitable’ girlfriend.

  But now he was about to become engaged, girlfriends were off the table. He would never be allowed to follow his heart. Or ask a beautiful stranger he had rescued from a swimming pool on a date.

  He realised he had not acknowledged her thanks, had probably been looking at her for longer than politeness dictated. ‘I’m happy I was able to help you,’ he said stiffly.

  Conversation had flowed easily but now it appeared she was as lost for words as he was. He found himself unable to tear his gaze from her and she flushed high on her cheekbones. But she didn’t drop her eyes. If he was mesmerised so, it seemed, was she.

  The buzzer to the suite sounded. The dress he had ordered for her, no doubt. He swallowed a swear word. While she’d been in the bathroom, he’d decided he wanted more than a few minutes with her. He’d arranged for a delayed delivery for the dress, ordered the meal, cancelled his plans for the late afternoon and evening. Now his snatched time with her had run out. Fantasies of spending more minutes, more hours with her clamoured at him. But the reality of his situation dictated he had to usher her out of his hotel room with no further delay.

  ‘Aren’t you going to let them in?’ she said, still holding his gaze. ‘It might be the dress you ordered for me.’

  He wanted to send the delivery person away. Keep her here with him, alluring in the black velvet dressing gown. But she had to leave, and she needed the dress before she could do so. ‘Of course,’ he said and reluctantly rose to accept the delivery.

  He returned with a boutique bag that bore an exclusive, instantly recognisable label.

  Ms Mermaid’s eyebrows rose. ‘You chose well,’ she said.

  ‘My sister has good taste,’ he said.

  His guest got up from the table and stepped away from it to meet him in the open space of the living room. He held out the boutique’s bag to her. But she made no move to take it from his hands.

  Instead she looked up at him and took a deep breath that made the lapels of her gown part further to reveal more than a glimpse of the curves of her breasts. He had to force himself not to let his gaze drift in that direction.

  ‘I don’t want to take the dress,’ she said. ‘If I do, I have to go. And I don’t want to go. Not...not yet.’ The stumble over her final words made Edward see she wasn’t as boldly confident as she seemed. So she felt it too—this inexplicable connection. Elation surged through him.

  ‘I don’t want you to go,’ he said, speaking the unvarnished truth. But what he wanted wasn’t always possible. His royal birth had brought with it incredible privilege but also responsibility and duty.

  She took a step closer. ‘Then...then should I not stay?’

  The air between them hummed with anticipation and shimmered with unspoken words. Her lovely mouth parted and she swayed towards him in an invitation that was impossible to resist. With a groan, Edward stepped closer. His eyes stayed locked with hers as his mouth came down on hers. Her lips were soft and warm and sweet under his and, as he pulled her to him, he pushed aside every reason why he should not be kissing her.

  * * *

  Sally didn’t know what she’d been expecting when she’d invited his kiss, but it wasn’t this instant ignition of long dormant passion. Desire flamed through her, urgent and demanding, as his lips possessed hers, his tongue tangled with hers in intimate exploration. She trembled from the overwhelming force of her reaction, pressed her body closer to his, strained to be closer to hard muscular chest, strong thighs.

  At this moment he was everything she wanted, everything she needed. She wound her arms around his neck as she kissed him back, demanding more. He deepened the kiss, hard and hungry.

  Her wants, her needs had been put on hold for so achingly long. There had been no hugs, no kisses, no intimacy in her life even before she finished with the actor. And it would be the same when she got back to London. Running her business, with its demanding clients and team of creatives, always looking for the next innovation that would keep Sally Harrington Interiors on top, used up every scrap of energy and drive. But then she’d had to dig deep to find even more of herself to deal with the new demands on top of her business, brought about by her older brother’s sudden return. The refurbishing of the Harrington Park was a full-time job in itself, the roof garden anothe
r. Something had to give. And her needs had been pushed right to the back of the line. Until now. Now her body was clamouring for its turn.

  As she revelled in the sensations of the moment, Sally blocked everything else but this gorgeous man and how he made her feel. Her family tragedies, her conflict about her older brother’s return, the pressure of the deadline to restore the hotel, her empty, lonely personal life were shoved firmly to the back of her mind. All she wanted was the pleasure of his kiss, the aching anticipation of more. She needed this escape from the reality of her Ice Queen life. She deserved it. He slid his hands down her back. She gasped at the intense sensation of his touch, her awareness she was wearing nothing at all under the robe.

  She would take the escape he was offering.

  At her gasp, he stilled and broke the kiss. She gave an unintelligible whimper of distress at the withdrawal of his warmth—she had no breath for anything more.

  He tilted her chin upward with his fingers, so she looked up into his face. His gaze was intent, his voice unsteady. ‘Is this what you want?’

  She didn’t need him to explain what this meant. Wordlessly, she nodded.

  ‘Because if it isn’t you need to go. Now.’

  She replied without hesitation. ‘I want this. I want you.’ This was pure, primal need.

  ‘I want you too. But...but this is all it can be.’

  She took a deep breath to steady herself. ‘Are you married? Because, if so, I can’t—’ Despite her past with unattainable men, married men were strictly out of bounds.

  ‘I’m not married,’ he said. ‘But there are...other reasons why I can’t give you anything more than one night.’

  Sally felt swept by a glorious sense of freedom, of chains falling away—the self-imposed constrictions on her tightly controlled life. A one-night stand. She had never done anything remotely like it. But she had never wanted a man like she wanted this man.

  She could pick up the dress, go change in the bathroom, walk out—and always wonder what it would have been like to be with him. Or she could take what he offered—and gift him the same. No past. No future. No strings.

  And no regrets.

  ‘One night it is,’ she said with a shiver of exhilaration and anticipation.

  There would be no anxiety about tomorrow. No possibility of an ill-fated relationship spluttering to an acrimonious end.

  Just one night.

  All she had to do was release her inhibitions and heed the reckless call to sensual adventure.

  He looked serious. ‘So long as you’re sure. I don’t want to take advantage of your near drowning, your shock—’

  ‘You’re not taking advantage of me.’ She stepped closer to him, rested her hands on his shoulders, looked up at him with a slow smile. ‘Perhaps I’m taking advantage of you.’

  He smiled back and she was struck again how much she liked that smile. How much she liked him.

  ‘I hadn’t thought of it in those terms.’

  That voice!

  ‘So...let’s not waste one second of our one night together,’ she murmured.

  His eyes searched her face. ‘I wasn’t expecting this,’ he said slowly.

  ‘Neither was I. But...but I’m glad it’s happening.’

  ‘Me too.’

  He laughed and pulled her close. She pressed her lips to his. Ice Queen? Huh. She was melting with need. For him.

  He kissed her back. This time she sensed he held nothing back, his lips urgent and demanding.

  Heaven.

  Very soon kissing was no longer enough. She craved so much more. With impatient fingers, she tugged his shirt from his trousers, slid her hands to his back—smooth, warm skin over rippling muscle—as he groaned his appreciation. She broke their kiss just long enough to push his shirt up and over his head.

  ‘We need to even the score here,’ he said, his voice husky. He kissed a trail from the corner of her mouth, down the column of her throat to the curve of her breast, meanwhile undoing the sash of her robe. ‘I’m wondering what underwear you have on under there.’

  ‘Wh-why not find out?’ she managed to stutter.

  He pushed the velvet robe off her shoulders. Her nipples tightened and tingled under his appreciative gaze. ‘No bra. As I thought.’ She wondered when he had actually thought that but was too caught up in the sensation of his hands on her bare skin to actually ask. When he caressed her breasts she could think of nothing else and could only gasp when he followed his hands with his mouth, licking and teasing her nipples. Desire pooled deep in her belly.

  The front of her robe slid further open to reveal her bare thighs. ‘Aren’t you going to check if I’m wearing panties?’

  He cleared his throat. ‘I think we should take this to the bedroom.’

  Effortlessly, he picked her up. ‘You’re very strong,’ she gasped as she looped her arms around his neck and pressed into his hard chest. She was five foot ten and it would be no mean feat to lift her. Normally she would bridle at such a masterful tactic, but she loved the way he took charge. His strength made her feel feminine and desired. It wouldn’t be something she’d care for in real life, but this wasn’t real life. This was more akin to fantasy.

  ‘Fastest way to get you to the bed,’ he said in a voice that set her senses rioting.

  There seemed to be a number of bedrooms in the suite but he carried her to what must be his; she recognised the spicy scent of his soap from the adjoining bathroom. An enormous bed loomed ahead of her, piled with silk cushions. But her hotelier’s eye was switched off. She didn’t give a toss about the furnishings. Only him and the sensual intent in his dark eyes.

  He pushed the robe right off her shoulders. There was a moment’s awkwardness as her elbow got stuck and he had to help her extract her arms from the sleeves. Laughter bubbled from them both at her predicament. Laughing with him was almost as arousing as anything he did with his clever mouth and fingers. The velvet fell off her body in a silky slide and pooled at her feet. As she stepped out of it, she felt self-conscious about her nakedness. But then came the liberating thought that it didn’t matter. She wouldn’t see him again. Wasn’t that part of the fantasy? She straightened her shoulders and let herself bask in the sensual caress of his eyes.

  They tumbled together onto the bed to land facing each other, kissing distance apart. Her breath quickened, as did his. She took a few heartbeats to admire him, the defined muscles of his chest and arms, his six-pack. He was the most gorgeous man she’d ever seen. And there was so much more for her to admire. She reached to undo his belt. ‘Now it’s my turn to even the score,’ she murmured.

  More laughter ensued as he helped her remove his remaining clothes and toss them on the floor. Then the laughter stilled as she faced him with no barriers whatsoever between them. Her heart was beating so loud she felt sure he could hear it. He reached out for her and traced the contours of her face in gentle exploration. She trembled at his touch. Tentatively, she did the same, his skin smooth under her exploring fingers as she traced along his high cheekbones, his straight, narrow nose, his full, sexy mouth. His expression was a mix of puzzlement and awe, as if he couldn’t believe she was here in his bed with him. Something made her wonder if he were as unfamiliar with the code for a no-strings fling as she was.

  They spent a long time exploring each other’s bodies. He learned just what it took to please her and arouse her to the point where she couldn’t wait a second longer for him to enter her. She whimpered as she strained her body towards him.

  He pulled her close so they were skin to skin, feminine curves against male hardness. She bucked her hips towards him, letting him know how ready she was for him. But, as he positioned himself, she put her hand on his cheek to stay him. There was something she felt compelled to say before the ultimate intimacy. ‘My name is Sally,’ she whispered.

  ‘Edward,’ he said, his voice hoarse.

  After that, she didn’t think of anything else but the intensity of their lovemaking. She was so aroused she climaxed almost as soon as he entered her. The world shrank to just him and her in the luxurious bedroom high above the city of Singapore. Nothing had prepared her for the storm of pleasure as they concentrated on discovering what pleased each other. There was no more laughter, just murmurs of pleasure, sighs and cries of fulfilment. On her third climax she couldn’t help a tear from escaping the corner of her eye. He frowned and tenderly wiped it away. ‘It’s nothing,’ she whispered. ‘Don’t stop.’