It was one of the most difficult things to do, holding her in his arms yet not being able to kiss her or make love to her. But he’d promised himself that he would not initiate any lovemaking. She’d been saving herself for the man she loved, she’d told him. Well, he was determined to be that man. 

Yes, he’d taken her virginity, in his defence he had no idea she was one, but he would never allow her to believe that it came with a price. Marco realised that he had dug himself into a hole, one that was fast closing in on him, and all for a ruby. 

Not just any ruby, he reminded himself. The Heart of Oudh finally belonged to him and he was not going to let it slip through his fingers, even though Princess Leila Jodhi Brown may be far more alluring. He could have both. He wanted both.

Soon they would be in Villa Almanaccare. It filled him with both trepidation and hope. He had his heart broken twice in Almanaccare—the day his mother left, and the day his father decided to leave the world of his own accord.

When he didn’t kiss her after the dance, she wondered why? Having gone to all the trouble of the evening, surely he would expect something from it. Isn’t that who Marco was? 

Calculating and adept at manipulating situations in his favour. He pulled away from her and led her back to the elegantly laid table. 

“Dessert?”  The arch to his eyebrow suggested something other than the decadent trio of sweets on silver plates. But his hand merely swept over the table and he pulled out her chair. 

Leila seriously began doubting herself, if not him. Again, the conversation veered along the next leg of their trip. His second yacht, The Flying Carpet 2 which was docked in Monaco awaited, and he hoped that she would love Italy as much as he did. 

Dessert was tasteless, the familiar flurries distracted her from any of its enjoyment. Words automatically erupted from her mouth, but they were without conscious thought. And after each utterance she could not remember anything she said. 

He did not seem too concerned, so she might have made the correct responses. Baffled by his change in attitude, all she could do was follow the movement of his mouth. The little crease in the middle of his forehead. The tug of his lip, always to one side and the deep line that formed when it did. 

Those lips had made her forget a little of why she shouldn’t want to be kissed by them. She tried to look away and found her eyes falling on his hands. Brown and square, they were large and competent. A shiver ran up her spine when she remembered how it had touched, controlled and pleasured. Swallowing hard, she finally gave up on the masterpiece on the plate. 

“Why did you marry me?” The words agitated the pretentious serenity.

He stopped his spoon laden with the strawberry mousse in mid-air. The crease between his eyes grew deeper and one dark eyebrow shot up. With deliberate slowness, he removed the napkin from his lap, dabbed the sides of his mouth and leaned back in his chair.

“I mean, you say it was to help Oudh and this way was the only way both of us could have the ruby, but you didn’t have to marry me.” 

“I don’t understand, Princess.” 

So he was back to calling her princess. 

“Tell me the truth, the deed is done, so there is no point to keeping your true motives from me!” She seethed.

He drew in a deep breath. “Contrary, I keep nothing from you. I was merely doing the right thing.” 

She threw her head back in mock laughter, “Spare me the patronisation, please.” 

“What do you want me to say? Because it seems whatever I say is not good enough.” 

Her eyes fell on him hotly. “The truth.” 

When he said nothing, she rose from her chair, deciding she did not want to listen to him any further. If she were honest with herself, she did not want to know the truth. She feared it would be more than she could handle in her ridiculously fragile state. Now she was baffled by her own behaviour.

But he was up in a shot and had doubled around the table in no time. 

“You want the truth?” 

But Leila was having none of it. His hand snapped out and grasped her wrist. Her eyes flew wildly from his face to her entrapped wrist.  

“Let go!”

He stared down at her, his eyes dark in the night. He didn’t let her go. Instead he yanked her toward him and her body slammed against his, then his lips crushed hers. 

For a moment, she resisted violently, then the resistance left her. Hadn’t she wanted him to kiss her all night? His lips were hot and greedy at first, then tender and slow-moving, savouring every contour of her mouth. 

The boat seemed to dip under her and then disappear, like she was falling forever, away from her fears and constant thoughts, and the world with all its obligations—to nothing but the perfect space within his tight embrace. 

His hands pressed upwards along the small of her back, his fingers searching for more, explored the nape of her neck, caressing and then wandering further, until they travelled over her shoulder and toward the mound of her breast. It was just a light fondle, an agonising caress, but it shot through her vividly like a spark of lightning. 

She moaned into the kiss as his tongue probed deeper. Then he stopped, placed his rough cheek against her hot smooth one and whispered, his voice tormenting when all she wanted was lips on hers. 

“Mia bella, my darling Leila”. He let her go then, cruelly shoving her at arms’ distance. 

His breathing was just as ragged as hers, but he moved his head from side to side. “I’m sorry.” Leila stepped back, confused. 

“I’m sorry,” he repeated. “I’ve told Mira to move my things out of the stateroom. I’m sure it is what you prefer.” 

With that he turned swiftly and strode away, leaving her alone under the pinpricked velvet sky. This time she did not stop the tear that trickled down her face.