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To Claim His Heir by Christmas
Victoria Parker
From heaven to hell…Princess Luciana of Arunthia once experienced heaven in the arms of a man whose every touch felt like paradise. But when Thane was revealed as Prince of Galancia – her kingdom’s greatest enemy – she fled, carrying his child!… and back again?Now, as Christmas approaches, the Prince is determined to win Luciana back and get the greatest gift of all: a beautiful queen and an heir!
‘I have to go home today. I have to go back to Arunthia and I need you to take me—as you promised.’
He sat up in one lithe, rippling movement, like a panther uncurling, and pushed his tousled hair back from his forehead. ‘No, Luciana, don’t say that.’ His husky, lethargic voice grew stronger, firmer. ‘You belong here with me. There’s no reason for you to go back.’
Luciana swallowed around the searing burn in her throat. ‘But there is, Thane. Someone is there that I can’t leave. Ever.’
His expression darkened and she felt a frisson of fear. Flinched when he suddenly ripped the sheet from his body, vaulted from the bed and spun on her.
‘You love this person?’
‘Yes,’ she said, her voice cracking under pressure. ‘I love him more than life itself.’
His eyes grew furious, dark as rain-laden thunderclouds. And she knew it was only going to get worse. This, she realised, was merely the beginning. God help her.
‘Who do you love?’ he demanded.
You can do this, Luciana. For him—for your son. Thane will rip your heart from your chest but this is not about you. It is about the little boy you love and his father. You are doing it for them. They deserve this from you. Do it. Do it.
‘Please don’t hate me, Thane,’ she whispered, begging him. ‘I was only trying to do the right thing. I was scared. I only wanted him to be safe—’
His beauty took on a terrifying dangerous edge. ‘Who, Luciana?’ He flung his arms wide. ‘Who do you love?’
‘Our son.’
VICTORIA PARKER’s first love was a dashing heroic fox named Robin Hood. Then came the powerful, suave Mr Darcy, Lady Chatterley’s rugged Lover—the list goes on. Thinking she must be an unfaithful sort of girl, but ever the optimist, she relentlessly pursued her Mr Literary Right, eventually found him lying between the cool crisp sheets of a Mills & Boon® and her obsession was born.
If only real life was just as easy …
Alas, against the advice of her beloved English teacher to cultivate her writer’s muse, she chased the corporate dream and acquired various uninspiring job-titles and a flesh-and-blood hero before she surrendered to that persistent voice and penned her first Mills & Boon
romance. Turns out creating havoc for feisty heroines and devilish heroes truly is the best job in the world.
Victoria now lives out her own happy-ever-after in the north-east of England, with her alpha exec and their two children—a masterly charmer in the making and, apparently, the next Disney Princess. Believing sleep is highly overrated, she often writes until three a.m., ignores the housework (much to her husband’s dismay) and still loves nothing more than getting cosy with a romance novel. In her spare time she enjoys dabbling with interior design, discovering far-flung destinations and getting into mischief with her rather wonderful extended family.
To Claim His Heir by Christmas
Victoria Parker
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
To ADP. I thank the fates for you every day.
To my fabulous editor, Kathryn Cheshire, who suffered through the initial drafts with endless patience and compassion as I stumbled through a dark time in my life. I’m so very grateful for your insight, your understanding and most of all, your faith in me. The day I hold this book in my hand, I shall only think of how you made it bigger, better, so much stronger. Thank you. For everything.
And finally to my readers. Especially those of you who wrote and asked me to pen another Arunthian tale. I hope you enjoy Luciana and Thane’s story and as promised, you’ll get to say hi to Claudia and Lucas along the way.
Contents
Cover (#u853e88f7-227f-5324-9e49-699e5b59079a)
Introduction (#u6ced8b86-ae86-519c-9dd6-9bc57e560d22)
About the Author (#u58f66826-1a1f-53eb-90a9-368d6ec64324)
Title Page (#uab8e0bde-c01f-5805-8a6f-d8927f88d3a4)
Dedication (#ue32e204f-f186-5977-9e31-45e0244eb60f)
CHAPTER ONE (#ulink_4d1c7931-7fac-560c-8864-729194793381)
CHAPTER TWO (#ulink_13c39a68-6f63-5649-b274-bd885f8e2929)
CHAPTER THREE (#ulink_4dfcf885-5ba1-51ef-b6bc-2e677eb4e852)
CHAPTER FOUR (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FIVE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SIX (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ELEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWELVE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER THIRTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FOURTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FIFTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SIXTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ONE (#ulink_788b06c9-6052-5610-8044-29f392d28ff9)
HE WAS GOING to propose. Any minute now.
It was every little girl’s dream. A handsome man, one of the most beautiful she’d ever seen, sat opposite her at an intimate table for two, with a velvet box nestled in his inside pocket. Aristocracy, no less. The suave Savile Row sophisticate who was Viscount Augustus. The man who’d set the scene so superbly.
Dimly lit chandeliers cast a seductive romantic ambience throughout the room of the critically acclaimed restaurant, where Michelin chefs were famous for creating masterpieces of haute cuisine. Open fires crackled and crystal tinkled as exorbitantly priced champagne flowed, poured into flutes in an amber rush of opulent effervescence. And beyond the wide plate-glass windows lay the majestic vista of the Tarentaise Valley—Savoie, bathing in the rose-pink wash of dusk, its white-capped mountains towering from the earth like watchful sentinels over the exclusive lavish ski resort of Pur Luxe.
Stunning. Awe-inspiring. The stage was set.
All that was left were the words.
And Princess Luciana Valentia Thyssen Verbault was paralysed with dread.
Please, God, please get me out of this somehow…
There is no way out, Luce. Not only do you have a duty to your people but a deal is a deal. And you made one with the devil himself.
Lord, she hated her father right now. ‘Go to the Alps,’ he’d said. ‘Take a few days to think things over, get your head together.’
Luciana had taken in his seemingly sincere autocratic face, paler since she’d last seen him as his health continued to deteriorate, and thought, yes, a few days to ponder. After all, she’d thought, she had years before her coronation, plenty of room to breathe, to barter for more time. But, as the saying went: Men plan. Fates laugh.
King Henri of Arunthia was being pushed by his doctors to retire. So she’d come to inhale the invigorating crisp air, to infuse her mind with solace. Reassess. Come up with a strategy where matrimony wouldn’t equate to losing the only person she lived for. What her father hadn’t said was that he was dropping her smack-bang in the midst of her worst nightmare by sending Augustus to seal the deal.
She supposed she should have seen it coming. Avoiding the Viscount via any means possible since her return home from China three weeks ago obviously hadn’t worked a jot. All she’d done was delay the inevitable.
You can run but you can’t hide. Wasn’t that what they said?
Truth was, for so long she’d been living on borrowed time, wishing with all her heart that time would miraculously stand still. But time, as she’d soon realised, waited for no man. Let alone a woman as desperate as she was to avoid the ticking clock.
Now she would pay the ultimate price for bartering with her father five too short years ago. Five years of living a normal existence, well hidden in her sanctuary near Hong Kong. Five years of latitude and liberty in exchange for total compliance—starting now.
‘Luciana? Is the filet not to your liking, querida?’
Her eyelashes fluttered as she fought the urge to squeeze them shut. Pretend she was anywhere but here. Querida… Lord, she wished he wouldn’t call her that. Wished too that she could extinguish the heat banked in his blue eyes. Hadn’t he had enough carnal relations for one afternoon? She almost asked him. If he’d enjoyed the brunette in his suite. The one who’d answered his door half naked and ravaged. But the truth was she couldn’t care less. It was the endearments she loathed. They hinted at affection and love and there would be none in this marriage. On either side.
He was playing a part, though, wasn’t he? She wondered, then, if he was going to get down on one knee. While she sincerely hoped not, he was a virtuoso at playing the press and they’d want the fairy story.
Fairy story. Yeah, right. A fool’s dream. Like so many others that taunted her day and night.
‘It’s wonderful, thank you,’ she said, attempting another small mouthful even as her stomach roiled.
It could be the best filet mignon in the world and it would still taste like black ash. Though no one would ever know it. Trained by the best, she was the perfect picture of elegant refinement. Graceful to a fault.
‘Good. I want tonight to be perfect,’ he said softly. Slick and skilful.
Luciana whipped out the serene smile she’d perfected since the cradle—not too bright or flashy, nor too dull. Just perfect, as her mother would say. Neglecting to add the tiny detail that it would strip her throat raw every time she faked it.
‘I want tonight to be perfect.’
Guilt trickled through the turbulent maelstrom of emotions warring for dominance in her chest. He was trying, wasn’t he?
Of course he is—he wants a throne of his own. Of course he’s pulling out every weapon in his cultivated arsenal.
Still, it wasn’t his fault that the ‘arranged marriage’ part of her conditioning hadn’t quite taken root. It wasn’t his fault that she dreamed of another. It wasn’t his fault that she had a taste for dark and dangerous.
Yes, and look what trouble that landed you in. Surely you’ve learned your lesson by now?
And Augustus was good-looking. Very handsome, in fact. Sandy blond hair artfully shorn and midnight-blue eyes. He had women after him in their droves. Yet he was her duty—tall and fair. The man she’d been ordered to wed. And from there to his bed.
A phantom knife sliced through her stomach and instinctively she bowed forward to ease the lancing pain… Then she forced her poise to kick in, reached gingerly for her glass and poured the amber liquid down her throat. Maybe if she got tipsy enough she’d have enough anaesthetic on board to say yes without shattering into a million pieces.
Flute back to the table, Luciana picked up her fork to push the tenderised beef around her gold-rimmed plate on the off-chance that he’d reach for her hand again. Once this evening was more than enough.
Would she ever get used to his touch? It was nothing like when he’d touched her. Nothing like the wickedly high jolt of electricity that had surged through her veins, or the blaze of her blood creating a raging inferno inside her.
Stop! For the love of God, Luciana, stop.
Problem was, as always, she found it impossible to halt the flow. The fiery rush of memories. Memories of a man who’d given her a gift to last a lifetime.
Pain and secrecy thumped inside her ribs like a dark heart. Because no one could know. No one could ever, ever know.
Princesses of the realm, first in line to the throne, were not meant to disgrace themselves by breaking free of their dutiful chains. Not meant to alter their appearance beyond recognition to avoid the paparazzi and go to rock concerts in Zurich dressed like a hippy, doling out false names. Not meant to fall in love…no, lust at first sight and have wild, passionate love affairs. They especially weren’t supposed to have them with Arunthia’s enemy. Not that she’d known exactly who he was when they’d met.
Such an ironic twist of fate. One she would have reduced to a dream if she didn’t hold and squeeze and hug and kiss the living proof of her reckless walk on the wild side every single day. Yet, despite it all—despite knowing she’d given her innocence to a treacherous, dangerous man—she could never, would never regret it. Because her first and only lover had given her a gift that was the single most brilliant, bright spark of joy in her world…her son.
Discreetly she sneaked a peek at the mobile phone hidden in her lap to see if Natanael’s goodnight text had come through. Nothing. She stifled the melancholy of missing him by picturing him playing happily with her sister Claudia and baby Isabelle, while Lucas watched on adoringly, protectively. Possessively.
At times it physically hurt to look at them. The perfect family. So deeply, devotedly in love. Their beautiful marriage was eons away from the unions she was used to. Luciana hadn’t known such a thing existed. She would do anything for that. Pay any price.
Envy, thick and poignant, pierced her chest with a sweet, sharp ache and she cursed herself for feeling that way. Wanting what she couldn’t have. Plunging lower than the black trench of despair she’d dug beneath her own feet. On the verge of letting loose the scream that was irrevocably bottled up inside her.
Come on, Luce. You know happiness isn’t written in the cards for a royal firstborn. Only duty.
Luciana tried to swallow and block the lash of repercussions her trip down the aisle would provoke before anguish swept her mind away on a tide of insanity.
Stop this! You’re protecting him—just as you’ve always done.
But how was she ever going to leave her heart? The person she needed in order to breathe, as if he were the very air itself? Her gorgeous little boy.
Claudia had sworn she’d save him from the oppressive walls of Arunthe Palace, love him as Luciana did until she could figure out a way for them to be together always. As Queen she’d have more power. She would think of something. She had to.
In the meantime Luciana would always be near—but what about his tub time, and the way he liked to be tucked tight and snug into bed? Luciana wanted to run his bath with his favourite bubbles that made his tender skin smell sweet. And what about when he called for her in the night when he was having bad dreams? She wanted to hold him when he was scared.
The thought of him asking for her and her not being there… It tormented her mind. How she was going to explain it all to him she had no idea. And how was she going to leave Natanael behind if this man dragged her to his family estate in Northern Arunthia?
So tell him. Tell him. He might understand. Support you. Help you.
This man? No. No, she didn’t trust him not to betray her confidence. Didn’t trust anyone.
You made a deal, Luciana. Now you pay.
