The Wedding Night They Never Had by Jackie Ashenden, Millie Adams

CHAPTER FOUR

INARALAYSLUMPEDagainst Cassius’s broad chest, her head resting on his shoulder, her heart feeling as if it were trying to batter its way out of her chest. The muscles of her inner thighs hurt, the delicate skin between them was burning and her mouth felt full, sensitive and a touch bruised.

She couldn’t see past the foggy lenses of her glasses and the frames were askew on her face, one of the arms having come loose from her ear. Small electric shocks of pleasure continued to pulse inside her. She felt dazed, shocked, astonished and completely unable to move.

Cassius’s rapidly slowing heartbeat was in her ear, his warm breath stirring her hair. His body felt hard and huge beneath her, as if she were lying on a slab of warm granite, and the familiar scent of his aftershave—sandalwood and spice—surrounded her.

She couldn’t believe what had just happened. It had been...amazing. Shocking. Exciting. Incredible. Though, really, none of those words even came close to encompassing the entire experience that was sex with Cassius de Leon.

She hadn’t expected that kiss, his mouth hot and firm, and then the taste of brandy on her lips. The heat of the alcohol had somehow got inside her, made her even hungrier and thirstier, and all her uncertainty and doubt had dropped away.

He’d kissed her and it had been unlike anything she’d ever experienced in her entire life. Better than those gauzy fantasies. More intense and more real, and somehow more confronting too. But so, so good.

And then his hands on her, touching her. Authoritative and demanding. And the pleasure that had followed in its wake...

It had been an intensely physical experience which was quite new to her. She existed so much of the time in her head, often forgetting her own bodily needs, that this had been...well...frankly overwhelming.

She’d never been so aware of physical sensation before, of her own skin and his hands on it. Of the need inside her, pleasure winding tighter and tighter, taking her out of her head and grounding her firmly in her body. She hadn’t known it would feel like that, that she’d like it and that she’d want more, so much more.

He shifted, withdrawing from her and causing her to shiver helplessly in reaction. That moment he’d thrust inside her had been a shock, even though she’d been expecting it. There had been a sharp pain and a burning sensation, and the weird, suffocating feeling of having someone else inside her body.

But then that had all fallen away, leaving behind it an intense, dragging ache that had become more and more acute as he’d moved inside her.

She’d wanted to hold onto it, keep it going for as long as possible, but then his hand had slipped between her thighs, finding that exquisitely sensitive part of her and stroking her, making the pleasure fold in on itself, layering it until it had burst apart like a firework.

Inara let out a shaky breath, the memory making her shiver yet again.

But then his hands were adjusting her, smoothing down her dress, and she wasn’t sure what that meant. Were they done? Was that all sex was? She didn’t know much about it, but she was pretty sure there was more to it than that, surely?

‘Cassius,’ she began in a croaky voice.

He ignored her, holding out the brandy glass. ‘Here. You might need this.’ His face was expressionless, though the gold in his eyes glowed hot with the remains of desire.

She didn’t want to move. She liked lying against him, but the blank look on his face chilled her. It didn’t seem as if what they’d done together had been as amazing and incredible for him as it had been for her.

What did you expect? That you were special?

The chill creeping through her widened. She hadn’t thought about it. She hadn’t expected him to be here at all, let alone to have sex with him in a chair in the library. But now she was thinking about it... Yes, of course she wanted to be special, because he was special to her.

Except that clearly wasn’t the case. The wicked amusement that had curved his mouth and the sensual challenge in his eyes from before had disappeared. The lines of his face were set, his gaze veiled by his long black lashes. She was still in his lap, resting against his chest, surrounded by his heat, but she had the sense that he was slipping away from her. That the warm, wicked, teasing man she’d first met in the limo, who’d visited her many times over the years, was gone again.

It was the King she was looking at now.

And maybe, for the King, she was just another in a long line of women he slept with, because she had no doubt he slept with other women. His fidelity or otherwise was something she’d never thought about, as their marriage wasn’t a real marriage.

But she didn’t like the thought of it now. Specifically, she didn’t like the thought of being just another woman he took to his bed. The warmth and pleasure from the orgasm drained away, leaving her feeling cold and empty, so she sat up and took the glass from him, sipping the brandy in an effort to warm herself up.

He watched her, his gaze impersonal. ‘Are you all right?’ His voice was very deep and she could hear a slight roughness in it. ‘Did I hurt you in any way?’

The questions sounded impersonal too; the only thing giving away what they’d done together was the rough note in his voice.

Inara’s throat tightened despite the brandy. ‘I’m fine,’ she forced out. ‘And, no, you didn’t hurt me.’

‘Good.’ He studied her, frowning, then took the brandy glass away from her before she could have another sip.

She stared at him. ‘I hadn’t finished.’

He ignored that. ‘You were a virgin, weren’t you?’

‘Well...yes.’ It seemed a strange question to ask, especially given how young she’d been when they’d married. ‘I was only sixteen when you married me.’

‘But you’re twenty-one now, correct?’

‘Yes.’

‘And you haven’t been seeing anyone?’

Inara blinked, the thought so foreign to her she didn’t take it in at first. The idea that she would even look at anyone else was inconceivable.

‘No,’ she said, astonished at the question. ‘Why would I?’

He didn’t answer. He glanced away, a line between his black brows making it clear he was thinking hard about something.

She didn’t understand what was going on. She wasn’t sure what was supposed to happen after sex, but it couldn’t be questions about her virginity, with him frowning and not even looking at her? There had been romantic movies... She’d watched as the couple had held each other and kissed after sex, or had deep and meaningful conversations. It hadn’t been...this.

Perhaps trying to seduce him had been a mistake. Perhaps she’d done it wrong, because she often got things wrong, or so her mother used to tell her.

You’re so naive. You think you know what you’re doing and you don’t. You have no idea...

The need to get away, to put some distance between them, gripped her and she struggled to sit up, pushing at the hard plane of his chest.

‘Don’t,’ he murmured, his arms tightening.

‘Why?’ Her heartbeat had picked up speed again, the chill winding through her intensifying. It hurt to be here in his arms, to feel as if she’d made a mistake, a terrible mistake. ‘Let me go, Cassius.’

‘No.’ His arms held her captive and when he looked down at her she could see heat still in his eyes, glowing like embers. ‘Be still.’

‘Why?’ She shoved at him again. ‘What do you want from me? If I’m just another woman to you—’

‘What do you mean just another woman?’

She took a breath, her heartbeat thudding hard in her ears. He was frowning ferociously at her as if she’d said something hugely offensive. ‘Well, clearly I’ve done something you didn’t like, because you went all cold and distant. I don’t know what your other lovers—’

‘I don’t have any other lovers,’ he interrupted flatly. ‘There’s just you, Inara.’

No, that couldn’t be right. He was the King. He could have any woman he wanted, and he must have wanted quite a few. His reputation as a lover had been widespread and notorious, and she’d assumed that he would have carried on in the same vein.

But...apparently not.

‘What?’ She stared at him in shock. ‘What do you mean, just me?’

An expression she didn’t understand flickered over his face. Then it vanished and the same calm mask he always wore descended once more.

‘I mean exactly what I said.’ His voice was very level. ‘I haven’t had a lover in three years.’

Inara’s shock deepened. If he hadn’t had a lover in three years then that meant...well...that he’d been celibate. Which for an ex-playboy was unthinkable.

His calm mask rippled—the mask of a king...she could see that now—then settled. ‘Yes, you might well look at me like that. A faithful husband isn’t exactly what you expected of me, is it?’

There didn’t seem to be any bitterness in his tone yet she caught echoes of it all the same. She didn’t understand. She hadn’t asked for a faithful husband—she hadn’t been thinking of sex at sixteen, and he’d been adamant he wasn’t going to touch her. That he wasn’t going to tell her what to do or demand things of her. It was only a legal marriage, he’d said. A signature on a piece of paper, nothing more.

And, even when she’d begun to realise that her feelings for him were not those she should have for the kindly uncle he’d told her to think of him as, she hadn’t given one single thought to all the women he seduced and spent time with.

You put him on a pedestal and kept him there.

The thought was unexpected, and all the more so because as soon as it had occurred to her she knew it was true. She had put him on a pedestal. She hadn’t thought of him as an uncle, but she hadn’t thought of him as a man either. He’d been a handsome, charming playboy prince, and then a distant, almost mythical king.

Except he wasn’t that prince any longer and, as she’d just found out, he wasn’t solely a king either. He was a man too. A human being. A person she knew nothing about.

Something kicked hard in her brain. Curiosity.

‘I never thought of you as a husband at all,’ she said before she could think better of it. ‘But why? Have you really been celibate for three years?’

‘Yes.’ This time there was no hesitation. ‘I have a standard to uphold and it’s a standard I believe in very much. A king has to set an example to his people, so that’s what I strive to do. They expect their king to behave in a certain way, and sleeping around is not one of those behaviours.’

The chill that had crept through her just before was back, though she wasn’t sure why, not when what he’d said made sense. The de Leon kings had always been exemplary in their behaviour, shining lights of compassion and justice and propriety. Certainly, Cassius’s father had been a perfect example, and his twin brother Caspian a carbon copy. It made sense that Cassius would now take on that mantle.

So why did he break a three-year drought with you?

She had no idea. Desperation? Opportunity? Certainly it wasn’t because she was special in any way.

‘So why now?’ she couldn’t help asking. ‘Why did you...?’

Cassius cupped her jaw gently, his touch silencing her. Glimmers of heat still shone in his eyes, but she could tell the King was very firmly in charge now. ‘Because you were lovely and I forgot myself.’ His gaze was very direct. ‘But now we have an added difficulty. I didn’t use a condom.’

Oh. She hadn’t even thought of that.

Her stomach dropped away and she felt slightly dizzy at the idea that she might be expecting Cassius’s child.

‘It’s not ideal for either of us,’ he went on, his thumb absently stroking her cheek, ‘but there is only one way we can solve this.’

‘Solve this?’ she echoed, her thoughts tumbling around in her head, her skin burning with every stroke of his thumb.

‘Yes, of course. It’s a problem, Inara.’ His hand dropped away. ‘But it’s a problem that I created and therefore I will be the one to find a solution.’

Her brain felt sluggish, all her thought processes sticky as treacle. ‘A solution to what?’

‘To the fact that I took your virginity,’ he said patiently. ‘To the fact that you might be expecting my heir. Don’t you see? A divorce is out of the question now.’

Inara was warm and soft and delicate against him, and her eyes had gone very wide, staring at him in shock.

Well, he could understand that. This was shocking for him too. He’d lost control. He’d forgotten himself. He’d taken her without thought, without consideration, and most important of all without a condom.

He was appalled at himself. He was supposed to be better than this. Hadn’t he promised himself that? He was supposed to protect her, to be her saviour, not her ravisher. After his parents’ and Caspian’s deaths, he’d sworn that he’d be the kind of king they’d have been proud of. He’d never be Caspian, of course—who could?—but he’d at least be decent.

A decent king wouldn’t take the virginity of a woman as innocent as Inara.

A decent king wouldn’t forget a damn condom either.

Which meant that, if he wanted to be a decent king, the only answer was to keep her as his wife.

‘What?’ She blinked rapidly. ‘You don’t want a divorce? But I thought you said—’

‘I know what I said,’ he interrupted, ignoring the regret and bitter shame coiling in his heart. Regret over what this would mean for Inara. Shame at how easily he’d forgotten his vows to himself and his family. ‘But things have changed. If you’re pregnant with my heir, there will be no divorce.’

It was the only solution. No, she wouldn’t be who he’d have chosen as his queen—his parents would have been horrified—but there wasn’t another fix. He could divorce her, but what if she was pregnant? He couldn’t have a royal bastard running around. That just wouldn’t work.

And if she wasn’t pregnant, he’d still taken her virginity. No one else would know, but he would. He’d know exactly how thin were his promises, how fragile. And, if he couldn’t even keep a promise to himself, how could he keep it to anyone else? To his country?

No, he couldn’t countenance it. He wouldn’t.

‘But I...might not be pregnant.’

‘You might not,’ he agreed. ‘But the fact remains that I took your virginity. And, besides, you’re my wife already. Seems logical that you should stay my wife.’

‘But I—’

‘Don’t worry.’ Gently, he lifted the arm of her glasses that had come off and slipped it back behind her ear. Perhaps she would be more comfortable with contacts. They might be easier to manage, given that as Queen she’d be attending functions and undertaking numerous other royal duties. ‘I’ll handle everything. It’ll be an adjustment for you being Queen, as it was for me when I became King, but I managed well enough. And so will you.’

‘Queen?’ she repeated faintly. ‘But I don’t want... I mean, not officially...’

She’d gone very pale, looking even more ethereal than she normally did, and the shame and regret inside him sunk deeper.

If he needed another reason why this had been a mistake, then here it was. Just as he’d never expected to be King, Inara had never expected to be Queen in anything but name. He’d automatically undertaken most of the official duties on his own, because he’d sensed her discomfort with the role, leaving her safe to pursue her own interests here at the Queen’s Estate.

He knew she hated the palace in Katara. She hated being looked at and talked about. Hated the social engagements that being a queen involved, the functions and parties and balls and openings she’d be expected to attend. She hated being the object of everyone’s attention and, as he could do most of that himself, he’d left her to her own devices.

Choosing another woman to do that duty had seemed like a kindness, so her arguing about it earlier had made no sense. Unless of course she’d changed her mind. Now, though, it was obvious she hadn’t changed her mind. She clearly regarded being queen as similar to going to her doom.

She’ll have to learn how to deal with it. As you did.

Cassius wasn’t a cruel man. There was no profit in it, and besides, a king should never be cruel, although sometimes justice could look like cruelty. And sometimes doing the right thing could look the same way.

It probably looked that way to her now.

‘I know you don’t.’ He gave her what he hoped was an understanding look. ‘But there are times when we don’t get to choose. And this is one of those times.’

‘Cassius...’

He put a gentle finger over her mouth, silencing her. ‘That’s my decision, little one.’ Her lips were very soft, very warm, and suddenly all he could think about was how they’d felt beneath his and how she’d tasted of brandy and desire and every good thing...

If you stay here, you’ll risk making the same mistake again.

It was true. He could already feel his body begin to harden once more, responding to her soft weight in his arms and her sweet scent, the delicate curves of her body pressing against him.

He could have her again. He could take her upstairs and spend the night with her. It wouldn’t make any difference to his decision and, if he was going to keep her as his wife, then it would be a marriage in all senses of the word. There would be no celibacy for him any more.

But, although it was tempting, he needed to get some distance between himself and the appalling mistake he’d made. Some time to recall his own promises and put in place safeguards to make sure he wouldn’t lose himself so completely again.

She’d need some time to come to terms with what he’d told her too, and what it would mean. And there’d definitely have to be a period of adjustment. Which meant that sitting here with her in his lap was probably not a good idea.

Carefully, Cassius shifted her off him, getting up from the chair then settling her back into it. She looked up at him, small and, fragile and wide-eyed, curled up on the big leather seat.

‘So...that’s it?’ Inara said. ‘I don’t get a say in this?’

‘As I said, sometimes we don’t get to choose our path in life, and this is one of those times.’ He checked his watch, impatience gathering in him. Normally he’d ignore it, as impatience was not an admirable quality in a ruler, but right now he had a few things to do. There were arrangements to be made and certain things to be put in place if he was going to bring Inara back to the palace, which he would. As soon as possible.

‘But you didn’t want me to be your queen. You wanted someone else. You said I wasn’t a suitable choice.’

There was a desperate note in her voice that made his chest tighten, though he wasn’t sure why she was trying to argue with him now, when she had seemed so opposed to the divorce only a few hours ago.

‘You’re not. But I don’t have a choice about this either.’ He tried not to let his own regret and impatience show, given it was clear she needed some reassurance, and him getting angry wouldn’t help. Especially as it wasn’t her fault. The blame lay entirely with him. ‘Don’t worry, Inara,’ he went on in softer tones. ‘I’ll do all I can to ensure that you’ll be the best queen Aveiras can hope for.’

She said nothing, her face white, her eyes going dark behind the lenses of her glasses. She was looking at him as if he’d dealt her a mortal blow.

Perhaps he shouldn’t have told her that he’d been celibate for so long. Certainly, that hadn’t helped matters, as she’d appeared genuinely shocked when he’d mentioned it, even upset. He wasn’t sure why that was, but no wonder she was shocked. She probably still thought he was the feckless prince he’d once been, indulging himself at every opportunity.

The one who’d begged his brother to swap places with him on the trip his father had insisted they take to the cemetery in the mountains, where all the de Leon kings were buried, in a last-ditch effort to try and instil in Cassius a sense of history and propriety. An understanding of the weight of the name he carried and what it meant, especially after the scandal of his disastrous marriage.

But he’d spent the night before the trip drinking, and had woken up late in the bed of some socialite. He’d called Caspian and bribed him to take his place—a habit they’d got into as boys, as their parents couldn’t tell them apart. He had then had gone back to sleep...only to wake a few hours later to the news that the King, Queen and Prince Caspian had been killed in a helicopter crash.

It was his responsibility, no one else’s. He might not have caused the crash, but he’d sent his brother to his death all the same, and deprived Aveiras not only of its current king, but of its heir too. There was no coming back from that. There was no fixing it either. All he could do was try his best to make up for what his country had lost.

Inara’s pretty mouth opened, and then she shut it again and looked away. He didn’t like feeling that he’d hurt her somehow, and it was clear to him that he had.

Of course you have. And telling her she’ll simply have to make the best of it isn’t helpful.

Perhaps it wasn’t. He’d had to deal with his own personal version of hell, because he didn’t have another choice. Aveiras had needed a ruler and he had been next in line to the throne. Renouncing the throne at a time of intense public grief would have been unforgivable, so he’d forced down his own personal grief, and the iron weight of his guilt, and he’d done what he had to do. He’d become King, even though it had been the very last thing on earth he’d wanted to do.

Those first few months had been the worst. It hadn’t been easy stepping into his brother’s shoes, especially considering the public’s adoration of Caspian and their low opinion of him, and he hadn’t had anyone to help him through it. He’d done it all on his own. But in the end the people had accepted him and, if he hadn’t been exactly what they’d wanted, he’d at least managed to get to a point where he wasn’t exactly what they didn’t want.

Still, Inara was young, and if he could spare her having to go through the same fire he had then he would.

‘What’s upsetting you?’ he asked. ‘You didn’t want a divorce just before and yet now you don’t like the idea of staying married. Care to explain?’

She bit her lip, white teeth sinking into all that plush softness, and the simmering desire inside him grew hotter.

He ignored it.

‘I just...want things to be the same,’ she said hesitantly. ‘I don’t want to leave the Queen’s Estate.’

‘I know you don’t. But the estate will still be here for you whenever you want to have a holiday.’

‘That’s not the point. I’m... I’m....’ She broke off all of a sudden, her misty grey eyes gone dark and stormy. ‘I suppose what I want doesn’t matter at all, does it?’

A part of him understood the note of anger in her voice, because he’d felt the same way at having to take the crown. But some things wouldn’t be helped by understanding and sympathy. The only way through was acceptance, regardless of one’s feelings.

‘No,’ he said firmly. ‘It doesn’t. You can’t put yourself and what you want before your country, little one.’

She paled even further at that. ‘No. That’s...that’s not what I meant.’

‘Then what did you mean? Aveiras needs a queen and, whether you like it or not, that queen is you. Your feelings or otherwise are irrelevant.’

Something passed over her delicate features and then was gone. She looked away, obviously upset.

The tight feeling in his chest constricted further, and he opened his mouth to issue another empty reassurance when she said woodenly, ‘I suppose I’ll have to pack some clothes, then.’

The urge to touch her cheek or take her hand in comfort gripped him, but he restrained himself. Touching her was a bad idea right now. Perhaps later, when they returned to the palace, he’d take some time to allay any fears she had.

So all he said was, ‘Yes, that would be wise. We’ll leave for Katara tomorrow morning.’

‘So soon?’

‘There’s no need to wait. The quicker you’re installed in the palace, the better.’

Her mouth had a vulnerable look to it, and there was a lost expression on her face, but even as the urge to comfort her intensified her mouth firmed and the lost expression vanished. She drew herself up, small and straight-backed, and when her gaze met his there was nothing misty about it. It was all stone and steel.

‘Fine.’ Her voice was hard. ‘I’ll see you in the morning, then.’

Then she turned and went out.