The Ceo’s Accidental Bride

stone walls of the castle.

She arched against him, struggling to get closer. Her breaths came in gasps, while the pulsating buzz that started at her center radiated out to overwhelm her entire body.

She cried his name again, and he answered with a guttural groan. Then the storm, the castle and their bodies throbbed together as one.

When the universe righted itself, Kaitlin slowly realized what they’d just done.

Bad enough that they’d made love with each other. But they weren’t locked up in some safe, private bedroom. She was naked, in an open room of the castle, where five other people worked and lived. Any one of them could have walked up the staircase at any moment.

She let out a pained groan.

“You okay?” Zach gasped, glancing between them and around them.

“Somebody could have seen us,” she whispered.

He tightened his hold on her. “Nobody would do that.”

“Not on purpose.”

“The staff are very discreet.”

“Well, apparently we’re not.”

“God, you feel good.”

She couldn’t help stealing another glance toward the staircase. “I’m completely naked.”

He chuckled low. “We just gave in, broke all our promises, consummated our marriage, and you’re worried because somebody might have seen us?”

“Yes,” she admitted in a small voice. She hadn’t really had time to think about the consummation angle. More that they had, foolishly, given in to their physical attraction.

“You’re delightful,” he told her.

“That sounded patronizing.”

“Did it?” His voice dropped to a sensual hush, and his mouth moved in on hers. “Because patronizing is the last thing I’m feeling right now.”

His kiss was long and deep and thorough. And by the time he drew back, the pulse of arousal was starting all over in her body. She wanted him. Still.

“Again?” he asked, nibbling at her ear, his palm sliding up her rib cage toward her breast.

“Not here.” She didn’t want to risk it again.

“Okay by me.” He gently eased himself from her body, flicked the button to close his pants, then lifted her solidly into the cradle of his arms and headed for the staircase to his bedroom.

“My robe,” she protested.

“You won’t need it.”

Zach held Kaitlin naked in his arms, inhaling the coconut scent of her hair, reveling in the silk of her smooth skin beneath his fingertips. A sheet half covered them, but his quilts had long since been shoved off the king-size bed.

“This is gorgeous,” she breathed, one hand wrapped around the ornately carved bedpost, as she gazed up at the scrollwork on his high ceiling.

“This is gorgeous,” he corrected, stroking his way across her smooth belly to the curve of her hip bone.

She looked great in his bed, her shimmering, auburn hair splayed across his pillowcase, her ivory skin glowing against his gold silk sheets.

“I never knew people lived like this.” She captured his hand that had wandered to her thigh, giving his palm a lingering kiss.

“It took me a while to figure out some people didn’t,” he admitted.

She released his hand and came up on one elbow. “Were you by any chance a spoiled child?”

“I wouldn’t call it spoiled.” He couldn’t stop touching her, so he ran his palm over the curve of her hip, tracing down her shapely thigh to the tender skin behind her knee. “But I was about five before I realized everybody didn’t have their own castle.”

Kaitlin’s eyes clouded, and she went silent.

He wanted to prompt her, but he forced himself to stay silent.

She finally spoke in a small voice. “I was about five when I realized most people had parents.”

Her words shocked him to the core, and his hand stilled in its exploration. “You grew up without parents?”

She nodded, rolling to her back, a slow blink camouflaging the emotion in her eyes.

“What happened?” he asked, watching her closely.

“My mom died when I was born. She had no relatives that I ever found.”

“Katie,” he breathed, not knowing what else to say, his heart instantly going out to her.

She’d never mentioned her family. So he’d assumed they weren’t close. He thought maybe they lived in another part of the country, Chicago perhaps, or maybe California.

“She either didn’t know, or didn’t say who my father was.” Kaitlin made a square shape in the air with both hands. “Unknown. That’s what it says on my birth certificate. Father-unknown.”

Zach’s hand clenched convulsively where it rested on her hip.

“I never knew,” he said. Though he realized the statement was meaningless. Of course he never knew. Then again, he’d never asked. Because he hadn’t wanted to know anything about her personal life. He simply wanted to finish off their business and have her gone.

Now, he felt like a heel.

“I used to wonder who she was,” Kaitlin mused softly, half to herself. “A runaway princess. An orphan. Maybe a prostitute.” Then her voice grew stronger, a trace of wry humor in its depths. “Perhaps I’m descended from a hooker and her customer. What do you suppose that means?”

Zach brushed a lock of her hair back from her forehead. “I think it means you have a vivid imagination.”

“It could be true,” Kaitlin insisted.

“I suppose.” Since the idea didn’t seem to upset her, his fingertips went back to tracing a pattern on her stomach. “I guess I’m the rouge pirate, and you’re the soiled dove.” He brushed his knuckles against the skin beneath her bare breast. “Just so you know. That’s working for me.”

She lifted a pillow and halfheartedly thwacked him in the side of the head. “Everything seems to work for you.”

“Only when it comes to you.” He tossed the pillow out of the way, acknowledging the words were completely true. He leaned up and gently stroked her face. “Were you adopted?”

She was silent for a long moment, while her clouded jade eyes put a hundred lonely images into his brain. He regretted the question, but he couldn’t call it back.

“Foster homes,” she finally told him.

The simple words made his chest thump with regret. He thought back to all the heirlooms he’d shown her. The family history. The portraits, the cemetery.

“I’m so sorry,” he told her. “I can’t believe I threw my castle up in your face.”

“You didn’t know,” she repeated.

“I wish I had.”

“Well, I wish I’d grown up in a castle.” Her spunk was back, and the strength of character surprised and impressed him. “But that’s the way it goes,” she concluded.

“We had extra rooms and everything,” he teased in an attempt to keep things light.

“Could you not have come and found me sooner?”

He sobered, completely serious. “I wish I had.”

Her grin slowly faded, but not to sadness.

His own want growing, he shifted forward and kissed her lips, drawing her tenderly but fully into his arms again, feeling aroused and protective all at the same time. “Was it awful?” he had to risk asking.

“It was lonely,” she whispered into the crook of his neck. Then she coughed out a laugh and arched away. “I can’t believe I’m telling this to you…you of all people.”

“What about me?” He couldn’t help feeling vaguely hurt.