Free The Prince's Secret Baby by Christine Rimmer Page A

split second,” she parroted with a heavy dose of sarcasm. “So…the realization that you’re definitely not marrying dear Princess Lili hit you like a lightning bolt, huh?”
    “No.”
    “I’m not following you.”
    “It’s quite simple. While everything changed for me in an instant, it took a little longer than that for me to accept that marriage to Lili had become impossible.”
    “I have no idea what you’re telling me.”
    “ That happened after lunch yesterday.”
    “ What happened?”
    “You said goodbye and got into your car and drove away. I stood and watched you leave and tried to consider the concept of never seeing you again. And I couldn’t do that. Right then, marrying Lili became impossible.”
    “So there was no lightning bolt, after all.”
    “Of course there was a lightning bolt. It struck the moment I saw you, striding into Macy’s, indomitable. Unyielding. Ready to take on the world. At that moment, Liliana was the last thing on my mind. Right then, all I could think of was you.”
    Sydney reached for her untouched glass of wine and took an extra-large gulp of it. She set the glass down with care. “Well, I…” Her voice had a definite wobble to it. She drew in a slow, steadying breath. “You’re not marrying the princess. You’re sure about that?”
    “Yes. Absolutely certain.”
    “You mean that? You really mean that?”
    “I do, Sydney. With all my heart.”
    “Don’t mess with me, Rule.”
    “I promise you, I’m not.”
    Her throat felt tight, so tight it ached. She gulped to relax it a little. “Okay,” she said softly, at last. “You’re not marrying the princess, after all.”
    “I’m so glad we’re finally clear on that.” His voice was gentle, indulgent. “You’ve hardly touched your food. Is it unsatisfactory?”
    “Oh, no. It’s fine. Really. Delicious.” She picked up her fork again.
    They ate in silence for a while.
    Finally, he spoke. “I like you in that emerald-green satin. Almost as much as I like you in red.”
    “Thank you.”
    “I still want to take you dancing.”
    She sipped her wine again, suddenly as certain as he seemed to be. About the two of them. About…everything. Whatever happened in the end, she wanted this night with him. She wanted it so much. She wanted him. “I have a suggestion.”
    “And I am always open to suggestion. Especially if the suggestion is coming from you.”
    “Take me back to the Mansion, Rule. Take me to your room. We can dance there.”

Chapter Five
    H is room was one of the two Terrace Suites on the Mansion’s top floor. It was over thirteen hundred square feet of pure luxury.
    There was champagne waiting for them in the sitting room—champagne and a crystal bowl full of Montedoran oranges. He took off his jacket and tie and they sat on the sofa, sipping the champagne. She slipped off her shoes as he peeled an orange for her.
    “Oh, this so good,” she said, savoring the ruby-red sections, one by one. They tasted like no orange she’d ever had before.
    He bent close and kissed her then, a slow kiss that started out light and so tender and deepened until she was slightly breathless—scratch that. More than slightly. A lot more than slightly. “Very sweet,” he said when he lifted his mouth from hers. He wasn’t talking about the orange.
    She only gazed at him, her heart beating in a slow, deep, exciting way, her body warm and lazy, her eyelids suddenly heavy.
    The sofa was nice and fat and comfortable. She considered stretching out on the cushions, reaching for him as she went down, pulling him with her, so they were stretched out together.
    But he set his half-full flute aside and picked up the remote on the coffee table. The large flat screen above a bow-fronted cabinet flared to life. Before she could ask him why he suddenly wanted to watch Lockup, he changed the channel to a music station. A slow romantic song was playing.
    “Come.” He offered his hand and they rose together. They went out