The Queen's Nine-Month Scandal

‘You look thirsty.’

It took a second for the deep voice at Analia’s side to register and she turned with a start to see a glass of champagne being held out towards her. She looked up, and up again, to see a broad-shouldered man who quite simply took her breath away. His face was almost entirely obscured on top by a black mask, and on the bottom by the dark growth of a beard that hugged his jaw.

Unlike the other men dressed in tuxedos, he was in a dark suit but with an open-necked shirt. Unruly dark wavy hair almost touched his collar and only added to his rakish appearance. The hint of rebelliousness resonated deep within her.

His lips quirked, firmly sculpted and so undeniably sensual that she felt a flutter of something hot, deep in her belly. And then he smiled, flashing strong white teeth, and Analia was dazzled. She also felt very strangely as if he was familiar to her, but in a way she couldn’t rationalize. A little shiver went down her spine.

She took the glass and murmured, ‘Thank you.’

‘I take it you’re not meeting anyone here?’

Analia took a gulp of the sparkling liquid and let the bubbles race down her throat before saying wryly, ‘Is it that obvious?’

The man shrugged minutely, ‘You looked a little lost when you came in.

Something pierced her at last and she asked him in turn, ‘And you? Are you alone too?’

He turned his face to cast a look over the crowd and Analia’s belly tightened to see how strong his jaw was. He was so intensely masculine.

‘I know our host, that’s about it.’ He turned to look back down at her. ‘With all these masks it’s hard to know about anyone else.’

‘I like it,’ Analia heard herself blurting out.

He seemed to know exactly what she meant and said slowly, ‘Me too...so no names then, or that’ll ruin it.’

Flutters increased in Analia’s belly. It was as if she’d agreed to enter into some kind of illicit pact with this man, which was crazy as they’d only just met. Nevertheless she heard herself saying, ‘No names.’

Quirking a sexy smile again he said, ‘We could make up names?’

He held out a hand, ‘I’m Sasha.’

Analia felt a giggle rising up, an incredible lightheartedness. ‘That’s a girl’s name!

He drawled, ‘I think it’s fairly obvious I’m not a girl. I’ll have you know that

it’s a very respectable man’s name in Russia where my ancestors come from. Or not...I could be making it all up.’

Analia had a sense that he wasn’t making it up. Something about him made her think of vast open steppes and an inhospitable environment pitting man against nature. Very aware of her heart pounding, Analia put her hand in his and seized on the first name she could think of. ‘I’m...Alexandra.’

Instantly the air around them seemed to crackle with awareness. Analia was aware of her hand being dwarfed by his. The faint calluses against her delicate skin. His incredible heat.

Seconds passed, stretching as they stood there, locked in this bubble of intimacy. She felt his thumb move ever so slightly against the pulse of her wrist and her eyes widened under the lace of her mask, her breath choppy.

The lighthearted feel of the last few moments seemed to change to something more intense. Analia could feel blood rushing to her face and other parts of her body. Her breasts felt heavy and her nipples became hard points against the silk of her dress.

Without releasing her hand or saying anything else, Sasha guided her over to where doors stood open, leading her out to a balcony, which overlooked the canal. Analia felt a little dazed. She’d only met this man mere minutes ago, and yet she felt bizarrely as if she’d been speaking to him for hours.

A couple passed them on their way back into the room and then they were alone on the balcony, the sound of the party muted. He let her hand go and Analia felt ridiculously bereft. She clutched her glass and said innocuously, ‘It’s so incredibly beautiful here.’

‘Yes.’

She looked up at Sasha but he was looking at her, not the view. Under his mask she could make out the dark intensity of his eyes and that they were gray, like a stormy Atlantic Ocean.

‘What are you doing here?’ he asked then.

Emboldened by the prosecco, the headiness of the protection of anonymity, Analia whispered, ‘Escaping.’

She could imagine him raising a brow under his mark and he asked inevitably, ‘From what?’

Analia looked away and gulped. Everything was slightly obscured from under the black lace of her mask. ‘From nothing...and everything.’

She looked at him and lifted her chin. ‘And you? Why are you here?

He smiled. ‘Because I was looking for you.’

The words were only meant as a light flirtation. A platitude. The equivalent of asking, do you come here often? But Analia couldn’t stop herself from imbuing them with a significance they didn’t warrant.

His smile faded then and he put down his glass of wine onto a nearby table. Analia tensed. He stretched out a hand and ran his finger down one cheek and across the line of her jaw.

Suddenly he muttered roughly, ‘You’re so beautiful.’

Analia’s skin tingled deliciously where he touched her. She blushed. No one had ever complimented her like that before. It wouldn’t be appropriate. ‘Thank you,’ she said huskily.

As if unable to help himself, he moved closer and his hand snaked around to the back of Analia’s neck, under her hair. She felt unbearably sensitized and languorous all at once. Unable to stop him. Not wanting to stop him. Not even when he pulled her close enough so that she could feel the latent strength of his body next to hers.

His head dipped and her eyes fluttered closed as that wickedly sensuous mouth settled over hers. Tasting, touching, so delicately that she might have imagined it. And yet, it burned like a brand.

CHAPTER TWO

NEED BURNT UP like wildfire within Daniel as soon as his lips touched hers. Alexandra. The name suited her. She had a regal air about her. But all that was forgotten as he realized that he’d be crushing her mouth under his and taking her right there against the balcony, in full view of the party’s guests, if he wasn’t careful.

Disobeying the clamour of his blood, Daniel pulled back with extreme reluctance. He could see her eyes open underneath the lace of her mask but couldn’t make out their color. They were dark.

Her mouth was pink and moist, slightly swollen even from that brief touch, and his body throbbed to wonder how those lips would look if he had kissed her as he’d wanted to.

Someone laughed nearby, a high unattractive sound, and a cooler breeze wafted in from the water. Daniel could see her blink beneath the mask, as if waking up. She swallowed and looked into the room. Whatever she saw there made her go pale, when seconds before she’d been flushed. Their bodies were still so close that he could feel the rise and fall of her breasts against him. If she were to move ever so slightly, she would feel just how much he wanted her.

She looked back at him and he frowned. Suddenly she looked hunted. She stepped back and immediately his body protested at the lack of contact. Daniel didn’t like the tendril of panic in his gut that she was about to flee. No.

He put a hand around her slender arm. ‘You look as if you’ve seen a ghost.’

Analia felt as if she had. The ghost of her future. That woman’s laugh had brought her back to reality with a bump. It lurked in the wings like a malevolent force, ready to break this spell. If it was discovered that she’d left—a sense of urgency infused her blood and panic gripped her making her clammy.

As if sensing her turmoil Sasha asked, ‘What is it?’

Analia willed down her panic, but what had she been thinking? ‘I should—I need to go. I shouldn’t be here.’