Modern Romance March 2020 Books 5-8

But how could she say that to this man whom she had married without any love at all?

She lifted her buttered toast and marmalade and looked across at Leon. She gave a little shrug—almost a defiant one. ‘So, there it is, Leon.’

She looked away again, lowering her toast to her plate, and suddenly sitting very still, as if she were fighting for composure.

What would he say? How would he reply to what she’d confided to him?

The man who was sitting opposite her was her husband but still so very much a stranger. A man about whom her thoughts—ever since that kiss at their betrothal ball, ever since she had first set eyes on him, ever since that kiss last night—had been so confused.

As they still were.

Her gaze went back to him, unconsciously anxious for his reaction.

Leon made no immediate reply, marshalling the thoughts in his head. What she had told him, and the reasons she had given, made sense. He had thought—assumed—that once they were married they would both yield, with mutual desire, to the flame that burned so strongly between them. Two consenting adults, just as he had told her, happy to consent.

I thought it would be very simple…

But it was far more complicated than that—far more…delicate. And he must get it right…make his reply to her now with utmost care.

‘I appreciate completely what you have said, and I thank you, truly, for trusting me sufficiently to tell me.’

His voice was serious, respectful, acknowledging what she’d confided in him, but he smiled across at her—a warm, reassuring smile—saw the tension in her face ease a fraction and was glad. He felt that strange emotion again—felt a resolve forming in him that, whatever it took, he would guide her forward in this journey they would be making together.

I will be her first—her very first!

A sense of wonder struck him and his eyes rested on her again, more warmly still. Then, wanting to banish the last of that tension in her eyes, with a deliberately relaxed movement he reached for his coffee cup, made his voice as relaxed, too.

‘So, tell me, what would you like to do today? Do you want to go out on the water? The lake looks very calm—shall we give it a go?’

He saw her eyelashes flicker for a moment, and then she returned his smile, as if relieved that he was talking about ordinary matters now. And such enjoyable ones.

‘Oh, yes—let’s!’

There was enthusiasm in her voice, relief, too, he could hear, and Leon was glad.

‘We’ll order a picnic to take with us as well, shall we?’ he went on.

There was equal enthusiasm for that notion, and he knew he had set the right tone for the day ahead. He would take the H from honeymoon and make it stand for holiday instead.

His eyes rested on her, though his gaze was veiled. How incredibly beautiful she was! Her face was lit by the morning sun, minimal make-up, and she wore an open-necked short-sleeved shirt over short-cropped cotton trousers. There was a string of colourful beads around her neck, no more adornment than that, and yet she took his breath away.

Resolve filled him once more, and that same unknown emotion came yet again.

I must not rush her—it must be in her own time—only when she is truly ready to accept what is between us.

It was going to be a self-denying abstinence, but he knew he absolutely had to let her be comfortable with him…take everything at the pace she could cope with.

‘I’ll row. You steer,’ said Leon, offering his hand to help Ellie into the rowing boat by the jetty, then seating himself and pushing off with one of the oars. ‘Here goes!’ he said cheerfully.

Cheerfulness was going to be his watchword. Cheerfulness, friendliness and easy-going companionship. That was what was needed now, and he would give it willingly. And it seemed to be working, for his bride, who had fled from him the night before, was now matching his cheerful demeanour in equal measure, and that gave him satisfaction enough for now.

She has to get used to me. Has to become at ease with me.

That was essential. Right now it was obvious to him that she simply could not cope with the intense physical intimacy that had burst into flame between them the night before—it had been too much, too soon. And for a reason that he had never dreamt of…

He felt again the echo of the shock he’d felt when he’d realised what it was she had been telling him last night. It was not, he knew, something he’d ever have thought about her—or any woman her age. She was twenty-six, after all, and had led far less of a sheltered life than her sister, still cocooned in the royal palace in Karylya. It would have been natural to assume she’d had romances in her adult life, and with her incandescent beauty, her outgoing personality and confident experience of the real world, thanks to her upbringing, anything else would have been unusual in the extreme.

Yet those romances had never happened. She had told him as much And it was to that end that he was now being so cheerful and easy-going, pulling strongly at the oars, heading across the lake.

Though he gave no sign that he had noticed, he had seen with satisfaction how her gaze flickered over his torso as he rowed, his muscles visibly flexing under the T-shirt he was sporting. It was a regard he returned in spades, drinking in the way her long bare legs were slanting across the hollow of the boat, her elbows resting on the gunwale, the sun kissing her face as he longed to do…

He speeded up his rowing. Vigorous exercise would be a sensible diversion from such longings.

Ellie settled herself on one of the rattan chairs on the sunny deck with a pleasurable sigh. It had been, she thought, a lovely day—just lovely! They had reached a tiny islet, dragged the rowing boat ashore, and made a mini-camp to enjoy their hearty picnic. She had fed the left-over pastry crumbs from their raised game pies to a suddenly attentive family of wild ducks—‘Malcolm would disapprove, but I can’t resist…and besides, it’s to say thank you for invading their haven here!’ she’d laughed—and then it had been her turn to take the oars, weaving a meandering course towards a jetty on the far side of the lake.

They’d moored up there and had gone ashore to explore the woods, with Ellie telling Leon what she knew of forest ecology and the wildlife it sheltered. There had been a path of sorts, but Leon had helped her over fallen branches, his hand strong and firm, his clasp nothing more than helpful.

Relief was uppermost in her. How much easier it was to have him the way he was being now—cheerful and relaxed, interested in what she was telling him, a convivial and easy-going companion. Oh, she was still constantly aware of his magnetic physical appeal, but she would set that aside for now. It was easier that way…

I’ve married a man who was all but a stranger on our wedding day—but now I want to get used to being with him, get to know him…spend time with him that is simple, easy. Without any complications…

She felt her mind sheer away from just what such ‘complications’ might be—they were too much to cope with. Now she just wanted to go on being the way they’d been today. Uncomplicated. Enjoyable. Very pleasantly enjoyable. And for that she was grateful.

He’s easy to be with.

It was a good thought to have about the man she had married to protect her father and his family. He was sitting down opposite her now, unfolding a map of the estate as she poured out their tea.

‘It’s not open to the public at the moment, so we can roam wherever we want,’ he was saying. ‘We can visit the big house, too, if you like. Plus, there are cycle trails everywhere, with bikes provided.’ He paused, then quirked an eyebrow at her. ‘Does that all sound very tame?’ he asked.

Ellie shook her head firmly. ‘No, it sounds totally relaxing—and that is just what I want.’ She glanced at him. ‘Are you sure you won’t be bored?’

As she spoke she felt colour mount in her cheeks. She knew Leon had had very different intentions for their stay here.

If he saw her start to flush, he gave no sign of it. ‘I haven’t been on a bike since I was a kid,’ he said ruminatively.

‘Me neither!’ Ellie laughed, glad her flush was subsiding.

They pored over the map together, working out the best trails, and apart from catching the heady scent of Leon’s aftershave, and noticing that at this hour of the day his chiselled jawline was roughening with regrowth, she coped with it admirably. Leon seemed unaware of her covert observation of him, and she was grateful.

She was grateful, too, that he continued to be cheerful and easy-going all through dinner and beyond. It had started to drizzle, so they settled down by the fire in the sitting room, watching a history documentary on TV. Leon stretched his long legs out towards the fire as he nursed a cognac at the other end of the sofa from her, and Ellie sipped a glass of sweet dessert wine.

It was easy, it was comfortable, it was companionable. And the same comfortable, companionable ease continued over the leisurely days that followed.

They made their cycling expedition—top-brand bikes having been delivered to the cottage after breakfast—whizzing along leafy forest trails and ending up at a Victorian mansion designed by a notable Gothic Revival architect for an exhaustive tour.

‘An acquired taste,’ Ellie said tactfully, more used to the delicately gilded rococo style of her father’s palace or the medieval north country fastness of her uncle’s principal seat.

They also explored the area by car. There was a race circuit nearby, and Ellie insisted Leon indulge in a track session, watching him with a stab of alarm at the terrifying speeds he coaxed from his beloved supercar—an alarm he laughed off afterwards with airy unconcern and post-race exhilaration. And she also sensed an air of satisfaction that she should have felt alarmed for him in the first place.

They added in a visit to a ruined abbey in a nearby river valley, sad and atmospheric, where one of the Romantics had once penned an equally sad and atmospheric sonnet, which Ellie had had to learn by heart at school, and quoted verbatim as they walked around the ruins.

They’d headed for a nearby scenic market town, where they browsed in second-hand bookshops and indulged in a pub lunch of fish and chips—only bettered by a lavish cream tea the following day, at a quaint tea shop in a picture-postcard traditional English village thronged with tourists taking photos of rose-covered thatched cottages and the well-stocked duck pond.

As they sat at their tiny table in the bay window, overlooking the village green, Leon listened to Ellie chatting amiably to the family sitting at the next table about the picturesque village.

When the other family left, he spoke. ‘Do you never worry you’ll be recognised?’ he asked curiously.

She shook her head. ‘Not really. Even those people who’ve heard of Karylya won’t think a daughter of the ex-sovereign would be having tea here!’ She gave a laugh, and pointed to where his sleek, low-slung car was parked outside. ‘That monster of yours is getting far more attention than me!’ she said.

A group of young lads and their dads were clustered admiringly around Leon’s car and Leon, adopting his bride’s own friendly attitude, found himself chatting to them as he and Ellie prepared to leave.

Exchanging performance data with those whose knowledge of top-marque vehicles way exceeded any hope of ever being able to afford one themselves, he amiably let them take selfies with the car, then gunned the powerful engine with a satisfyingly loud roar just for them, before finally heading off with a casual wave of his hand.

Ellie strapped herself into the passenger seat, smiling at Leon for what he’d just done. Her thoughts were warm.

I scarcely knew him when I married him—but now that I am getting to know him, how much there is to like!

Emotion fluttered in her.

To be so devastatingly good-looking and yet to be so good-natured with it!

It was a rare combination.

That flutter of emotion came again…

‘That was so nice of you!’ said Ellie. ‘You could see how thrilled those boys were!’

The warmth of her thoughts was in her voice, and Leon turned his head towards her.

‘Just following your example,’ he said, and smiled.

It warmed him to hear the warmth in her voice, to see it in her eyes on him.

And he felt his longing for her ache through him…

‘Do you know, we’ve been here a week already?’ Ellie mused.

They were taking their customary after-dinner liqueur out on the deck. The sky tonight was clear, and starlight glittered on the dark surface of the lake. Her thoughts were strange. The week had passed so swiftly, and as each day had passed she had felt more and more at ease with Leon. He was a stranger no longer—

But if not a stranger—then what?

The question hung in her head—but she could give herself no answer.

She was glad when he spoke. ‘I think that calls for a toast!’ he said, and smiled, raising his glass accordingly.

Behind his smile, he rested his eyes on her as they stood by the railing, breathing in the soft night air.

Was she a little closer to him than she usually stood?

The scent of her perfume caught at him and desire flared. How incredibly beautiful she was! How enchantingly so!

How I ache for her…

Had something of his longing for her shown in his eyes as their glasses touched? It must have, because there was a sudden answering flare in her eyes…

Then her eyes dropped and she turned her face away to look out over the water. There seemed to be a new tension in her stance.

Deliberately, he let the moment pass. And he made his voice nothing more than casual as he spoke again. ‘So, has it been a good week?’ he enquired.

She turned to look at him. Her expression was glowing. ‘Wonderful!’ she answered.

She seemed to hold his eyes for a moment, as if she wanted to say something else but was unsure. Leon waited. Every instinct on alert.

Her eyes searched his face. ‘I want to thank you,’ she said, her voice low. ‘Not just for bringing me here—for knowing that this place is just what I needed! But…but for so much else, Leon. For being so understanding.’

There was an intensity in her voice he had never heard before, and he felt himself respond. He knew the meaning of what she was saying—knew there was only one answer he could give her.

‘You must know,’ he said, ‘that whatever you choose—or do not choose—I will abide by it.’

Her eyes were searching his. Something was working in her face that he had never seen before.

‘You’re being very good about it, Leon,’ she said. ‘Many men would have—’ She broke off, not sure what word to use.

Leon supplied one. ‘Sulked?’ he suggested, not hiding the tug of humour at his mouth.

She gave a lip-biting laugh. ‘Oh, dear, yes—perhaps!’ She glanced up at him. ‘But somehow, you know, you’re not the sulking type, I think!’

Ellie had said it humorously, conscious, with a strange little flurry of awareness, that she’d also said it teasingly…almost flirtatiously…

She wanted to break her glance away, and yet, feeling again that same little flurry, she didn’t. She held his gaze for a moment longer. Had something changed in his eyes, too? She wasn’t sure—could only feel that flurry stirring inside her again, that same low vibration in her blood that had started up the first time they’d stood here like this, at the water’s edge, under the night sky.

She dropped her eyes, finding it too disturbing, and let her gaze go out over the darkling waters of the lake. Thoughts stirred within her…feelings and emotions she knew she must make sense of.

But how?

What certainties were hers?

One above all.

He can arouse in me a response that no other man has ever drawn from me. A single glance from him can make me tremble…a single touch can set my every sense aflame…

She had fled from that flame, confused and overwhelmed. Unable to cope with it. But in the week that had passed he had given her time and space to think again.

She had married without love—but had she married without passion, without desire? She could give no answer but the truth. The truth that Leon had spelt out to her—the same flame burned in both of them…

She turned her head, looking at him again. He was standing very still, as if giving her time, letting her think the thoughts that filled her head. She felt the familiar catch in her throat that came every time she looked at him, drank in the strong planed features of the face she could never willingly tear her eyes from…

The strength of it shook her.

The strength of her desire for him.

More thoughts came—thoughts that she had to frame and answer.

Two years they would be together—no more than that. Then she would be free to leave, to find the true love she sought.

But until then, would desire suffice?

Perhaps I am safe because there will only ever be desire between us. Because that is all he wants. For is it not what I want, too?

She had never been free to indulge her senses, but Leon was no passing boyfriend who might simply prove an unwise choice if their relationship soured. Leon was her husband—and he had shown patience and understanding, shown himself to be someone she could be at ease with, find companionship with, enjoy the hours she spent with him.

And he was the man she desired.

The man I want to give myself to—and take in return—

Surely it would be safe to yield to her desire for such a man?

The knowledge filled her, removing all doubt, all confusion. Making all clear to her.

She spoke his name, low and soft.

She saw something change in his expression—as if, she realised, he had been holding himself on a tight leash—a leash he had now loosened.

He lifted his hand, then paused, and she could sense he was exerting absolute control in doing so.

His eyes searched hers in the dim starlight. ‘I don’t want to scare you away again.’

CHAPTER NINE

LEON’S VOICE WAS LOW. Intensity filled him, but he fought against letting it show. Every instinct told him that it was happening—that what he had yearned for all this long, long week, yearned for since the moment he had first set eyes on her, was now happening.

But it must be at her pace—and hers alone. His desire must remain leashed until she was ready to release it.

He felt his heart start to beat in heavy, insistent slugs. Desire was building in him—filling him…

Slowly, very slowly, she turned her head.

‘I could stay here all night,’ she murmured. ‘Watch the stars set and the sunrise…’

She looked out over the glimmering surface of the lake, relaxing against the railing, aware that the movement would bring her closer to him, brushing his shoulder with hers.

She felt his arm go around her, drawing her closer still. It was warm and she leaned into him, feeling his strength and solidity supporting her.

It felt good.

Right.

She breathed in the sweet night air, felt the waft of the light night wind winnowing the tendrils of her hair, teasing at her cheek, the sensitive nape of her neck.

She caught the musky, masculine scent of him, the potent maleness of him.

It felt good.

Right.

The fingers of his hand started to play lightly on her bare upper arm, idly. She gave a sigh at the languorous pleasure it aroused, leaning into him even more.

She felt the drift of his lips across the crown of her hair, heard him murmur something to her in Greek. Husky and low.

She lifted her face to his, searching the gaze fixed on her. Reached with her free hand to his jaw, roughened at this late hour. Let her fingertips move slowly along the hard edge of his jaw, across the sculpted outline of his mouth…

In her veins, a pulse started to beat. Warmth was filling her, and there was a quickening in her senses. She felt desire pool in her, gathering strength, deepening in intensity.

She turned her body into his, sliding her hand around the strong nape of his neck, into the feathered sable of his hair, and his hand dropped to her waist, wrapping around it.

She could feel the desire inside her strengthen, become a yearning, an ache she could not still or banish. She could only give herself to it, fully and freely…

She said his name again, raising her mouth to his, kissing him softly, with infinite care.

He did not kiss her back, he did not move in any way, but he let her lips touch his, as if daring her to take such liberties with him. As if testing what she was doing and why.

And as her mouth moved slowly, exploring his, as she felt that sweet, languorous arousal welling up within her, she knew and had never been more sure of anything in her life that it glowed within her like a bright flame of truth—that this moment now was right—that being here, with Leon, with this man she had married, the man she desired, was right…

Desire, warm and sweet and overwhelming, swept through her, deepening her kiss, and as it did so it seemed to light an answering flame in him. And all of a sudden it was not just her kissing him, but Leon catching her mouth, her lips, parting them with his with a sudden urgency that was like a match thrown onto tinder.

She drowned in it, the blood leaping in her, a smothered cry in her throat, and then her hand at his nape was shaping itself to him, her other hand sliding across the broad, muscled front of his torso, glorying in the strength she found there.

He crushed her to him and the cry in her throat came again, filled with wonder and longing.

Instantly his mouth released her and his hands cupped her face. In the dim night, his eyes burned gold.

‘Are you sure, Ellie? You must be absolutely sure! If—if this isn’t what you want, you must say so now…now.’ His expression changed. ‘It would be agony for me to let you go again. I long for you so much!’

His voice was hoarse, his eyes dark and strained.

‘I have given you time—the time I knew you needed. But if it’s not yet right, if it never will be right, then tell me now…’

His voice seemed to crack, and it drew from her an answering choke. Her eyes clung to his, her hands now closing around the strong muscles of his upper arm as if to steady herself with his strength.