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

—but she would hold firm in her conviction. Tilting her chin in defiance, she felt the drying strands of her thick hair falling down her back as she met his arrogant stare—no longer cowed by the distaste that she met in the amber eyes.
    â€˜But other than my obvious social unsuitability to cavort with a monarch—there are no other reasons?’ she questioned coolly.
    â€˜Oh, there are plenty,’ he demurred silkily. ‘I like my women blonde. And curvy. You’re neither. In addition, I expect them to dress exquisitely. In fact, the kind of woman with whom I’m intimate puts only the finest silk-satin and lace lingerie next to her body.’ His lips curved in derision as they flicked over her T-shirt. ‘Not something which might be worn by someone living by the roadside.’
    Still she didn’t react, even though she felt as if he were aiming darts at her heart. Destroying all the feelingsshe’d once had for him—feelings she’d allowed to grow as Ben had grown. She’d remembered his kindness to her. His tenderness when he’d held her in his arms. In her head, she had built on those memories, brick by brick. She had nurtured a fantasy man in her imagination, she realised—because the real man was nothing but an arrogant and hurtful bastard .
    â€˜So my hair’s the wrong colour, my body’s the wrong shape and I dress like a tramp.’ Melissa paused and then looked at him boldly. ‘Anything else you’ve missed?’
    Casimiro frowned, because her persistence was surprising. By now she should have caved in. Started blubbing and giving him some hard-luck story about how she really needed money. She wanted financial aid for an ailing donkey sanctuary. She was battling to preserve a rare butterfly threatened by the proposed new road which would raze through its natural habitat. She was sorry to have invented such a far-fetched story but she was desperate…
    â€˜Actually, yes.’ His voice was stealthy now. ‘I always use protection when I make love to a woman.’ He saw her cheeks grow pink. Would this graphic truth be enough to get her to back down? he wondered. ‘There’s a general consensus, you see—which deems that my seed is precious stuff. More precious than most.’ His mouth twisted into a knowingly sarcastic smile. ‘It’s a King thing.’
    She paused for a moment to let this outrageous comment die away. ‘So why are you here?’ she questioned quietly.
    Again, her general unflappability when faced with his unmistakable anger slightly wrong-footed him. Why was he here? If he had really believed that she was somecheap con-artist then she wouldn’t have got within a million miles of him. So why? Why was it that when he looked at her, he felt the faint tug of something he couldn’t quite put his finger on? Something which felt unfamiliar and uncomfortable.
    Since his accident—when his life had hung in the balance for days—so many of his usual pastimes had been curtailed that it felt an age since he had tasted danger. But he could taste it now. It seemed to linger in the air about him—tantalising him—just as the highest jump on one of his beloved horses had always tantalised him.
    He hadn’t ridden since the accident—but now came enticement in a different and unexpected form. Not blonde. Not petite, nor curvy—but bold and brunette with long, long legs and eyes which were the greenest he had ever seen. Almost emerald… Once again he felt the distant tug of something nebulous—some tantalising memory which hovered just out of reach.
    He touched the tip of his tongue to his upper lip, slid it slowly over the surface. ‘Maybe I came looking for something to nudge my memory,’ he said softly.
    She hadn’t realised what he was about to do—because in Melissa’s book, you didn’t come onto a woman if you had just spent the