Chapter Ten
CHAPTER TEN
What she should say was a resounding ‘No’ . Especially when he looked at her with that gleam in his eyes. He didn’t look like a man worried about public opinion. He looked like a man who wanted…her.
That stopped her throat and quickened her pulse. He was dangerous. But in that heady moment she welcomed his attention.
Was she projecting her own desire? He had few scruples about doing whatever it took to secure the throne and the country. Appearing interested in her was part of the deal. She’d be crazy to believe it was more than a calculated act.
But he had a point. What if she jumped at his touch in public? This marriage would elicit enough consternation without that.
Maybe a kiss would work as exposure therapy.
Maybe she’d grow blasé about his touch.
Maybe you want to find out what kissing Benedikt is like.
‘One kiss.’
Where had that come from? She hadn’t planned the words.
Annalena watched a smile unfurl across his face. She read approval but more too. Something that made her wonder if this was a good idea. But she couldn’t back out. Showing fear was always a mistake.
Determined to get it over before she could think too much, she stepped so close their bodies almost touched.
She felt his body heat down her whole length. Except it was more than heat. It felt like thousands of sparks igniting across her skin.
All the more reason not to linger. Planting one hand on his chest, she tilted her head.
But her intention to press a brief kiss to his lips died as she registered the thud of his heart beneath his jacket. Watched his eyes zero in on her lips.
Her breath escaped in a sigh because she felt that look like a caress. Her pulse hammered and her chest shuddered as she sucked in air.
Just get it done. A few seconds and it will be over.
She rose to brush her mouth against his.
Annalena blinked, stunned to discover his lips were soft. Even that cursory touch brought with it a taste of… She couldn’t name the flavour except she liked it.
Benedikt didn’t respond, didn’t move, his gaze focused on her mouth in a way that made her imagine her lips throbbed. They parted and she licked them, trying to draw in more of that taste. His taste.
A fiery arc of heat shot down her body, past her nipples and stomach to the hollow between her thighs.
Golden-brown eyes met hers and one slashing dark eyebrow lifted as if to say Is that the best you can do?
He was right. That wasn’t a kiss. Yet she was torn between competing instincts. To be cautious and step away. Or be bold and fit her mouth to his.
In the end it was a mix of determination not to be seen as weak and the lure of irresistible temptation.
She put her other hand on his shoulder, holding herself steady as she rose and covered his mouth with hers.
He didn’t move but that didn’t matter because she knew exactly what she wanted. Tilting her head, she closed her eyes and moved her lips, brushing, nibbling, tasting. The rich, unique taste of him was addictive and she wanted more.
Her fingers drifted up to cup the hot flesh of his neck, thumb on his jaw and fingertips buried in his short hair.
Finally he moved, angling his head to give better access.
Her breath stalled as delight punched hard. She wanted…
Too much. Far more than this tentative caress, yet still Benedikt didn’t reciprocate. Did he feel nothing? Not the tiniest spark of pleasure? Was this truly just about her acclimatising to his presence?
Hurt pride seared.
Maybe, like some of his staff, he found her unsophisticated. She’d heard a stifled giggle in the royal offices the other day. From the corner of her eye she’d seen Ida Becker whispering to another woman and caught the words ‘…wearing a dirndl like a milkmaid.’
As if their national dress were embarrassing!
As if Annalena had anything to be ashamed of because she tried to deal with people honestly, not playing at one-upmanship.
Annalena didn’t stop to ponder why that provoked her. Why Benedikt’s unresponsiveness became unbearable. She simply followed her instinct, stroking her tongue between his lips, demanding entry, then following that delicious taste and exploring the lush mystery of his mouth.
She clasped his head with both hands, tentative no longer as she delved deep and discovered…
Oh.
A shudder raced from her head to her soles as his tongue slid against hers, curling and drawing her deep into plush, velvety warmth that was more inviting than any place she’d ever been.
Something jolted through her like an electric shock.
Every sense deepened. Colours appeared in the darkness behind her eyes like a kaleidoscope reflecting sunlight.
The scent and taste of him deepened. The satin of his skin beneath her palms and the thick silk of his hair against her fingertips made her hands curl possessively.
She heard the twin thrum of their pulses, beating in sync.
She’d kissed before. But the last time had been a long time ago. How could she have forgotten?
Unless it hadn’t been like this.
Disquiet filtered into her brain. Did he sense it? A second later it vanished as he roped his arms around her, tugging her flush against his body.
Annalena gasped at the myriad sensations. All that hard, masculine heat. The heavy cushion of muscled thighs and broad chest. The slow track of one large hand settling low on her back and drawing her in. Benedikt’s mouth moving with hers, his tongue coaxing and enticing.
Goosebumps broke out across her skin as he came alive against her, turning her foray into a mutual caress, deep and slow.
It felt as easy as if they’d done this a million times before. As inevitable as the sun rising over the Alps.
But more exciting than anything she knew.
Annalena stretched high, revelling in his solidity against her yearning body, the strength of long arms encircling her, pulling her close.
There was a muffled sound, a low hum, almost a growl, that she tasted in the back of her throat, and easy familiarity turned urgent. He led her deeper, into places she hadn’t gone and she followed eagerly, utterly entranced.
She clung, grasping for purchase as her knees loosened and only his embrace kept her upright. Her blood effervesced like champagne and her toes curled as ribbons of delight danced through her.
Benedikt supported the back of her head in one hand as he bent low, taking her mouth with devastating thoroughness. Making her nipples pucker and her brain atrophy.
Deep within she felt a hungry twist of need. A hollow throb that began in her pelvis but resonated everywhere. Moisture dampened her new silk undies as arousal stirred.
The truth slammed into her brain. This kiss had nothing to do with hurt pride or proving a point, but everything to do with her response to Benedikt.
Annalena’s hands tightened on his skull as she tried to climb his body, curving her spine to align her pelvis with his.
She tasted another low, masculine growl that sent her libido into overdrive.
Then, abruptly, nothing.
She heard breathing, harsh and uneven, gulped lungfuls of cold air and felt strong hands at her elbows. They held her as she wobbled on high heels, legs like overcooked spaghetti. Her hands clenched and opened, empty.
Stunned, she lifted impossibly heavy eyelids.
Benedikt loomed over her, dishevelled, lipstick-smeared and distant. His jaw was set, the mouth that had kissed her so voraciously a flat line.
Annalena blinked, barely taking in his rumpled hair and bow tie hanging loose, trying to read his searing gaze. She saw heat but was it from arousal or something else?
His gaze roved her face and her lips throbbed and parted. A second later he withdrew totally, stepping back and putting a world of space between them.
Well, that went well. You came undone while he…
She didn’t want to think about how he felt. She had a horrible feeling that passionate kiss had been an experiment on his part, the passion all hers.
Annalena watched him roll his shoulders and straighten to his full height. He wasn’t even out of breath whereas her heart hammered as she struggled to draw in oxygen, making her breasts rise and fall quickly.
That’s the least of your worries. Never show weakness to an enemy, remember?
Except he hadn’t felt like an enemy.
‘Was that enthusiastic enough?’ she murmured, hiding a wince at her husky, broken voice. ‘Not that we’ll have to go that far to convince our guests.’
His eyes narrowed and she’d swear she saw annoyance flicker across his set features.
‘You’re saying that was an act?’
Benedikt’s tone was clipped. She hated the contrast, hated herself for what she’d done. How could she let him affect her that way?
She shrugged and walked past him, grateful for the sheer determination that kept her steady on high heels despite feeling as if her bones had melted. ‘It wasn’t…unpleasant and I wanted to be thorough. Isn’t that how exposure therapy works?’
She didn’t want to see his reaction to her lie. But she’d tramp over hot coals rather than admit she’d lost her senses as soon as he’d kissed her back.
A shiver ran through her. Their upcoming marriage was more daunting now than ever. She’d just proved she wanted her husband-to-be. But he’d pulled back from her. He might simulate passion but that was all it was, a sham.
Hurt welled. An echo of the ancient self-pity she’d thought she’d conquered years ago.
At never wholly fitting in. At always being different.
The orphan brought up by an old lady regarded locally with mixed awe, reverence and trepidation.
The girl from the castle, privileged but hemmed in by duty and expectation.
Annalena stopped at a mirror over the fireplace to gather her tattered control. She was a mess. Lipstick gone, hair coming down and a flush of sexual arousal emblazoned her throat and cheeks. Even her eyes looked different, heavy-lidded as if she’d just woken. Or left a lover’s bed.
‘It wasn’t unpleasant ?’