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All he wanted from the relationship was a hostess and someone with whom to enjoy a few exhausting hours of turbo-powered, high-octane sex every night.
He wasn’t interested in anything else. Not conversation. Not even a hug. Certainly not a hug.
Holly slid into the back of the car, waving to the crowd who had gathered. What would they say, she wondered, if they knewtheir handsome prince had never spent a whole night with her?
He just took her to bed, had sex and then disappeared somewhere, as if he was afraid that lingering might encourage her to say something that he didn’t want to hear.
Did he have another woman? Was that where he went when he left their bed?
To someone else?
Casper had a seemingly inexhaustible sex drive, and Holly was well aware that there had been another woman in his life when he’d first met her in England. One of the papers had mentioned some European princess, and another a supermodel.
Were they still on the scene?
Feeling mentally and physically exhausted, Holly rested her head on the back seat of the limousine and promptly fell asleep.
She woke at Emlio’s gentle insistence, walked into her beautiful bedroom with the view to die for and flopped down on her huge, fabulous bed.
Just five minutes, she promised herself.
Five minutes, then she’d have a shower and get ready for the evening.
Simmering with impatience after a long and incredibly frustrating day of talks with the president and the foreign minister, Casper strode through to the private wing of the palace.
In his pocket was an extravagant diamond necklace, designed for him by the world’s most exclusive jeweller who had assured him that any woman presented with such an exquisite piece would know she was loved.
Casper had frowned at that, because love played no part in the relationship he had with Holly. But she was doing an excellent job fulfilling her role as princess. She deserved to be appreciated.
And this was why she’d married him, wasn’t it?
For the benefits that he could offer her.
Contemplating her reaction to such a generous gift, a faint smile touched his mouth, and he mentally prepared himself for a stimulating evening.
Lost in a private fantasy which involved Holly, the diamonds and very little else, Casper strolled into his private sanctuary.
The first thing that hit him was the unusual silence.
Silence, he reflected with a degree of wry humour, had become something of a scarcity since he’d married Holly.
First there was the singing. She sang to herself as they were getting ready for the evening. She sang in the shower, she sang as she dressed, she even sang as she did her make-up. And if she wasn’t singing she was talking, apparently determined to fill every moment of the limited time they had alone together with details about her day. Who she’d spoken to, what they’d said in return—she was endlessly fascinated by every small detail about the people she’d met.
In fact silence was such an alien thing since Holly had entered his life, that he noticed the absence of sound like others would notice the presence of a large elephant in the room.
Slightly irritated that she obviously hadn’t yet returned from her afternoon of visits, Casper removed his tie with a few deft flicks of his fingers while swiftly scanning his private mail.
Finding it strangely hard to concentrate without background noise, he had to force himself to focus while he scribbled instructions for his private secretary. Intending to take a quick shower while waiting for Holly to return, he took the stairs up to the bedroom suite.
Holly lay still on the bed, fully clothed, as if she’d fallen there and not moved since. Her glorious hair tumbled unrestricted around her narrow shoulders and her eyes were closed, her dark lashes serving to accentuate the extreme pallor of her cheeks.
In the process of unbuttoning his shirt, Casper stilled.
His first reaction was one of surprise, because she was blessed with boundless energy and enthusiasm and he’d never before seen her sleeping during the day.
His second reaction was concern.
Knowing that she was an extremely light sleeper, he waited for her to sense his presence and stir. Contemplating the feminine curve of her hip, he felt an immediate surge of arousal, and decided that the best course of action would be to join her on the bed and wake her personally.
Glancing at his watch, he calculated that if they limited the foreplay they would still make dinner with the president.
He dispensed with his shirt, his eyes fixed on the creamy skin visible at the neckline of her flowery dress. Stunning, he thought to himself, and settled himself on the edge of the bed, ready to dedicate the next half hour to making her extremely happy.
But she didn’t stir.
Disconcerted by her lack of response, Casper reached out a hand and touched her throat, feeling a rush of relief as he felt warm flesh and a steady pulse under his fingertips.
What had he expected?
Unsettled by the sudden absence of logic that had driven him to take the pulse of a sleeping woman, he withdrew his hand and rose to his feet, struggling against an irrational desire to pick up the phone and demand the immediate presence of a skilled medical team.
She was just tired, he assured himself, casting another long look in her direction. Acting on impulse, he reached down and gently removed her shoes. Then he stared at her dress and tried to work out whether it was likely to impede her rest in any way. For the first time in his life, a decision eluded him. Did he remove it and risk waking her, or leave it and risk her being uncomfortable?
A stranger to prevarication, Casper stood in a turmoil of indecision, his hand hovering over her for several long minutes. In the end he compromised by pulling the silk cover over her body.
Then he backed away from the bed, relieved that at least there had been no one present to witness such embarrassing vacillation on his part.
He made thousands of decisions on a daily basis, some of them involving millions of pounds, some of them involving millions of people.
It was incomprehensible that he couldn’t make one small decision that affected his wife’s comfort.
Holly awoke to darkness. With a rush of inexplicable panic, she sat up and only then did she notice Casper seated by the window.
‘What time is it?’ Disorientated and fuzzy headed, she reached across to flick on the lamp by the bed. ‘It must be really late. And I need to change for dinner.’
‘It’s one in the morning. You’ve missed dinner.’
The lamp sent a shaft of light across the room, and she saw that his white dress-shirt was unbuttoned at the throat and that his dinner jacket was slung carelessly over the back of the chair.
‘I missed it?’ Holly slid her hand through her hair, trying to clear her head. ‘How could I have missed it?’
‘You were asleep.’
‘Then you should have woken me.’ Mortified, she pushed down the luxurious silk bed cover and realised that she was still wearing the clothes she’d had on when she’d done her day of royal visits. ‘I only wanted a short nap.’
‘Holly, you slept as though you were dead.’ His dark eyes glittered in the subtle light. ‘I decided that it was better to make your excuses to the president than produce a wife in a coma.’
Holly pulled a face. ‘What must he have thought?’
‘He thought you were pregnant,’ Casper drawled, a faint smile touching his mouth. ‘He and his wife have four children, and he spent the entire evening lecturing me on how a pregnant woman often feels most tired during the first few months and how rest is important.’
‘God, how awful for you,’ Holly mumbled, forcing herself to get out of bed even though every part of herself was dying to lie down and sleep for the rest of the night. ‘I feel really bad, because I know how important this dinner was to you. Your private secretary told me that you wanted to talk about all that trade stuff and about carbon emissions or something. Some forestry scheme?’
A strange expression flickered across his face. ‘You frequently talk to my private secretary?’
‘Of course.’ Holly tried unsuccessfully to suppress a yawn as she padded over to him in bare feet. ‘Carlos and I often talk. How else am I going to know what the point of the evening is? I mean, you don’t see these people because you like their company, do you?’ Feeling decidedly wobbly, she sank down on the window seat next to him. ‘I’m sorry I slept.’
‘Don’t be. Though I must admit you had me worried for a while. It wasn’t until I was greeted with silence that I realised how accustomed I am to hearing you singing into a hairbrush.’
Holly turned scarlet at the thought that he’d witnessed that. ‘You hear me singing?’
‘The whole of the palace hears you singing.’
Horrified by that disclosure, Holly shrank back on the seat. ‘I didn’t know anyone could hear me,’ she muttered. ‘Singing always cheers me up.’
His eyes lingered thoughtfully on her face. ‘Do you need cheering up?’
How was she supposed to answer that? Holly hesitated, knowing that if she told him that she felt lonely, that shemissed him, he’d withdraw in the same way he always did when she made a move towards him. He’d remind her that his company wasn’t part of their ‘deal’.
‘I just like singing,’ she said lamely. ‘But next time I’ll make sure no one is listening.’
‘That would be a pity, especially given that several of the staff have told me what a beautiful voice you have.’ He reached into his pocket and withdrew a slim box. ‘I bought you a present.’
‘Oh.’ She tried to look pleased. After all, he was trying, wasn’t he? It wouldn’t be fair to point out that her wardrobes were bulging with clothes and that she only had one pair of feet on which to wear shoes, and that what she really wanted was a few hours in his company when they weren’t having sex. ‘Thank you.’
‘I hope you like it.’ His confident smile suggested that he wasn’t in any doubt about that, and Holly flipped open the lid of the dark-blue velvet box and was dazzled by the sparkle and gleam of diamonds.
‘My goodness.’
‘They’re pink diamonds. I know you like pink. Apparently they’re very rare.’
When had he even noticed that she liked pink?
He was such a contradiction, she thought numbly, lifting the necklace from the box and instantly falling in love with it. He spent hardly any time alone with her, but he seemed to be trying to please her.
And he’d noticed that she liked pink.
‘It’s beautiful,’ she said honestly, fastening the necklace round her neck and walking across the room to admire herself in the mirror. ‘Is it very valuable?’
‘Would knowing how much it cost make it a more welcome gift?’ There was an edge to his tone that she didn’t understand.
‘No, of course not.’ She touched the sparkling diamonds nervously. ‘I’m just wondering whether I dare wear it out of the bedroom.’
He relaxed slightly. ‘It’s yours to lose, keep or trade,’ he drawled softly, and Holly frowned, puzzled by his comment but too tired to search for a hidden meaning.
‘You do say the weirdest things.’ Suppressing a yawn, she walked back to the window seat, feeling the weight of the diamonds against her throat. ‘I’ve never worn diamonds before. And I never imagined wearing them in bed.’
‘I intended them to go with your dress this evening.’ His gaze was fixed on her face. ‘You’re extremely tired.’
‘Long day.’
‘Too long. The official visits have to stop, Holly.’
‘What? Why?’ Hurt and upset by the apparent criticism, Holly sat up straighter in her seat. ‘What am I doing wrong? I’ve worked so hard.’
‘Precisely. You’re working too hard.’
For a moment Holly just gaped at him in disbelief. ‘That’s the most unfair criticism I’ve ever heard. How can I be working too hard?’
‘If you’re so exhausted you’re falling asleep, then you’re working too hard.’
‘That’s nothing to do with the official visits. I’m falling asleep because you keep me awake half the night!’ She looked at him in exasperation, her temper mounting. ‘Oh, that’s it, isn’t it? You don’t like me working hard because you’re afraid I’m going to be too tired to perform in the bedroom! Is that all you care about, Casper? Whether I have the energy for sex?’
‘You’re doing that uniquely female thing of twisting words for the purpose of starting a row.’ Ice cool, he watched her with masculine detachment and Holly felt a flash of frustration.
‘No, I’m not. I hate rows. I would never, ever choose to row with anyone. I hate conflict.’ The ironic gleam in his eyes somehow served to make her even more infuriated. ‘And you’d know I hate conflict if you’d bothered to spend a few hours alone in my company! But you don’t, do you? Do you realise we’ve never even been on a proper date? You are so, so selfish! You just come to bed and do your whole virile, macho-stud thing, and then you swan off, leaving me.’
One dark brow lifted in cool appraisal. ‘Leaving you?’
‘Exhausted,’ she muttered, and a sardonic smile touched his mouth.
‘So I leave you to sleep. By my definition, that makes me unselfish, not selfish. And it brings me back to my earlier point, which is that you’re working too hard.’
‘You always have to win, don’t you?’ Holly sank back down onto the window seat, the bout of anger having sapped the last of her energy. It just wasn’t worth arguing with him.
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