can come to an end.'
'One can but hope,' she sardonically replied, the sight of food curiously unpalatable. It was impossible, of course, that she could be pregnant after a single encounter with the marquis, but when the first sip of her morning coffee turned her nauseous, she wondered if all his rumored bastards were indeed the result of a remarkable virility. They ate together in silence, or rather he ate and she picked at a piece of dried toast, her lack of appetite eventually coming to his attention.
'If you don't eat,' he nastily said, 'you'll faint when next you climax.'
'I may not,' she coolly replied.
His brow lifted in loathsome irony. 'Faint?'
Her own brows delicately rose. 'Does it bother you if I have an orgasm?'
He debated his answer for a moment, not sure why he was offended beyond his captive status. 'Yes. Don't ask me why,' he honestly added.
'It seems to me I should get some pleasure from this ordeal.'
'Ordeal?' he skeptically repeated. 'You could have fooled me.'
'Would you like me to compliment you on your physical prowess? I didn't realize you were so vain.'
He wasn't, and another niggling second passed while he wondered at his indignant response to the princess's passion. 'How many lovers have you had?' The impulsive question surprised him, but he didn't retract it.
'Not as many as you. There are records and there are records,' she gently noted. 'I'm very much outclassed by your repute.'
'And you've never become pregnant?'
'I wouldn't have dared. Marko has very strong feelings about pure bloodlines.'
'And yours are pure?'
'How rude you are.'
'You're much too beautiful.' It was his first civil remark.
'You mean only chorus girls and actresses look like this.'
'Generally, yes.'
'And you should know.'
'And I should know.'
'My family is Hungarian on my mother's side and noted for their favorable matches.'
'If they all look like you, I can see why. So Marko has money.'
'That's what favorable means, my lord. You know that better than most. My father's family is Venetian; they settled in Dalmatia long ago and gave numerous counts to the Hapsburg court as envoys to Venice. Does that suitably satisfy your standards?'
'I have no standards as you no doubt know,' he replied, rude once again, his brief moment of compassion revoked by recall of the compulsion behind his visit to the country. 'Although under other circumstances, you and I might have had a damned good tumble in the hay.'
'Have you dispensed with your recent attempt at celibacy?'
'Temporarily, it seems. Will your husband's schedule permit another cup of coffee before the next fuck?' he insolently inquired.
'As long as you don't take too long,' she replied, snide and oversweet.
When the guards came into the breakfast room shortly after, he stood and sketched her a brief bow. 'Until we meet again, Madame,' he impudently murmured. 'On stage.'
It minutely salved his anger to see her furiously blush, a minor concession to his umbrage, but satisfying. And after he'd entered his bedroom, he held the guards at bay with an upturned palm, undressing himself this time. He preferred not being touched by other men, a fact he explained to them in fluent Italian. Since she was from Dalmatia, he assumed Italian would serve as a bridge between the guards' native tongue and English.
'We have our orders,' their leader explained, his tone mildly apologetic.
'Everyone does, do they not with Prince Marko,' he dryly retorted. 'But tell him when next you see him that I'm coming to kill him once this is over.' The marquis stood eye-to-eye with the tall guard, their gazes both unflinching.
'I'll tell him,' the man replied, 'in a month. Do you need to be tied?'
'If you want me to stay.'
'I thought so.' And the trooper nodded his head toward the bed.
The tying was swift and efficient, everyone civil, accomplished at their tasks, and then the marquis was left to wait for the prospective mother of his child. He shouldn't have been left alone so long, for the added interval gave him unwanted opportunities to recall their heated coupling of the previous night. The princess was flamboyantly sexual, hot-blooded, unbridled in her response. Irresistible to a man of libertine propensities. His thoughts fluctuated equivocally between provocative arousal and hot-tempered annoyance, but he was realistic enough to wonder how long his annoyance would last once she stood before him in all her naked glory.
When Sofia came into the room, a cool self-possession masked the tumult of her feelings. 'I don't know if I can do this,' she quietly said, standing just inside the door. Only the pressure of her mother's welfare had brought her back to this room.
'But they're watching.'
'Perhaps.'
'You don't strike me as naive,' Hugh mocked. 'Maybe we should just chat about the weather,' he silkily went on, 'and see how long it takes before someone comes in and forces us to copulate.'
'Right now I dearly wish I were an orphan.' She hadn't moved from the door, her hands pressed to the wood as if seeking strength from the sturdy oak. Her white dimity robe lent her an air of touching innocence, the blue ribbon in her tousled hair slightly askew, like that of a fey maiden.
How did she do it, he wonderedalter so completely from incarnate sexuality to this trembling, unsure adolescent with high color on her cheeks?
'How old are you?' His gruff voice sounded very loud in the silence.
She looked up, startled, seeming to forget where she was. 'Today?' she queried as though getting her bearings. 'Much too old,' she added in a whisper.
'Tell me.'
'A million years old,' she simply said, her green gaze distant.
'I'm twenty-seven.'
'I know. You were twenty-seven in March. I read the dossier.'
'You're younger, aren't you?'
'No.' Her brows tilted upward in whimsy. 'But thank you.'
'Should I guess?'
'No, it doesn't matter. Nothing matters,' she breathed, her voice trailing away.
'Are you all right?' A modicum of concern infused his voice, but he caught himself in time, not about to allow himself sympathy, and as her eyes flared wide in astonishment at the compassion in his tone, he'd already lapsed into a moody scowl.
'You were almost human for a moment,' she murmured. 'Don't worry, I won't tell anyone.'
'Are you going to stand there all morning?' he gruffly muttered, wanting her when he shouldn't. But he'd lived too long in the world of privilege to question what he wanted.
'Are you ready then?'
He couldn't help but smile at her naivete, his teeth flashing white against his tanned skin. 'Come and see,' he whispered.
'Should I draw the drapes?'
His gaze flitted from them to her, and he shook his head. 'Unless you want to,' he hastily addedhis first small courtesy.
'I'm sorry about the scratch,' she offered in turn, her hand fluttering upward briefly toward his face.
'This is turning too civil,' he teased.
'You prefer angry women?'
'I prefer seeing that robe on the floor.'
'Please, don't be coy,' she returned, smiling for the first time… in an age. 'I can't untie you, can I?'
