LITMIR.BIZ

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was clear defiance.

      ‘Don’t tell me you thought you could hide for ever?’ he said scathingly. She looked surprisingly well apart from the two fingers on her left hand that had plasters across the knuckles. Her porcelain cheeks had a healthy glow to them the like of which he’d never seen on her skin before. She wore black straight-cut stretchy corduroy trousers and a thick knitted navy jumper that fell to her knees. On her feet were fluffy slipper boots that looked, to his eyes, dreadful, but seemed strangely apt for the setting.

      These were clearly clothes his money had bought because she definitely hadn’t taken any of her clothes from his apartment.

      ‘Not for ever, no.’ She shook her head from side to side, backing away from him like a cornered cat. ‘How did you find me?’

      He blew into his hands. The cabin’s warmth went some way to defrosting his chilled bones. He’d forgotten how cold winter in the mountains could be.

      ‘By employing my best people to find you. I assume you chose this spot deliberately.’ He shook his head, unable to believe the serene Princess he’d desired from afar for years could be so underhand and cruel.

      He’d never have believed she was a thief either. Or that she would prove so adept at hiding. By the time he’d landed back in Monte Cleure it had been clear her disappearance was no case of abduction. The call she’d made to the palace had confirmed this. Catalina had run away. She’d taken herself and the little life they’d made together and left him.

      To find her here, in the snow-capped peaks of the Pyrenees at the height of the skiing season...

      Her chocolate eyes lost their dazed look and snapped into focus, piercing straight through him. He’d forgotten how seductive they could be.

      ‘I’m here because it’s a place I’ve always wanted to visit.’

      How could she be so calm? Whereas he...he was a ball of lava wrapped in a shell that was eroding by the second, the pressure gearing up to an explosion.

      Ten days of worry. She’d stolen a heap of his money but he hadn’t been able to stop himself worrying about how she would look after herself without the twenty-four-hour assistance she was used to. He’d expected to find her bedraggled and unkempt.

      Yet her hair was shiny, her skin clear and she held herself with the same poise she’d always had.

      You could take the woman away from all the trappings of royalty, he thought, but her breeding always shone through. Catalina could be dressed in a pinafore, scrubbing bathrooms, and she would still have a regal bearing.

      But that royal body was as womanly and as earthy yet as heavenly as it was possible to get; silk and cream enveloping fire.

      He clenched his teeth together. ‘A place you wanted to visit which just happened to be on a snow-capped mountain? Have you been skiing?’

      ‘Of course not.’

      ‘You’d better not have.’

      ‘Or what?’ There was a flash of fire in her eyes. ‘You’ll punish me?’

      ‘Don’t talk such nonsense.’

      ‘Then don’t threaten me. I’ve spent my life dealing with threats and I won’t put up with them any more.’ Her voice was clear and steady; only the way her fingers played with the fabric of her long jumper hinted at any distress beneath the cool façade. He recalled her doing the same thing on the drive to his apartment after their wedding, wearing the dress he’d longed to peel from her body, to replace the material with his lips and his body. And then again, at the opera, in that long black figure-hugging dress he’d also longed to peel away.

      ‘I was not making threats, but, as you’ve so clearly forgotten, you are carrying my child.’ His words almost came out as a shout. He was so angry that he was in danger of losing his temper.

      ‘That doesn’t mean you have claim to my body or my mind. We’re not on Monte Cleure.’ Her lips pinched together. ‘It wasn’t that long ago you thought it amusing that I was happy to let my family have ownership over my body and how I used it. You should be happy that I’ve taken your words to heart—from now on I dictate what I do, not my father, not my brother, not you. I don’t know why you’re here. I thought you’d be glad to see the back of me.’

      He’d thought that too until she’d run away.

      ‘Damn it, Catalina, you’re my wife.’

      ‘Really? I thought I was your encumbrance.’

      It was the coolness tinged with bitterness that propelled him forward to pin her against the counter.

      He inhaled the scent that had played in his memories since their night together and the ache in his chest spread, creeping through every part of him.

      Placing a hand to her cheek, he ran his fingers down the warm soft skin, clasping the base of her chin gently with his thumb.

      ‘You are my wife,’ he whispered. ‘We made vows.’

      Her eyes were wide, the chocolate around her pupils swirling, and her voice dropped to match his, her words breathless. ‘Vows that didn’t mean anything.’

      ‘We made a promise to stay together as a married couple until our child is born. I signed a contract. You have broken your promise.’

      She didn’t flinch but held his gaze, the swirling in her eyes deepening. ‘You broke yours first. You haven’t treated me like a wife. If it’s a case of living with you for another year and then moving back to the palace while they fix me up with another man who will also treat me like an irritant then I’d rather take my chances on my own.’

      ‘It’s not going to happen. You’re going to pack your bags and we’re going to get out of this hellhole.’

      ‘You can go wherever you like. I’m not going anywhere and that includes the prison you call an apartment.’

      ‘You’re coming back with me if I have to carry you kicking and screaming onto the plane.’

      Both of their voices had dropped to below a whisper. Nathaniel could smell her warm breath against his lips and lost the fight with his body, surrendering to the quickening in his loins.

      Her eyes were suddenly stark. ‘Why do you want me to come back? You hate me.’

      ‘I don’t hate you.’ He hated what she’d done and the worry she’d caused him, but how could he hate someone he wanted so badly?

      ‘Then why have you avoided me at every turn? You treat me like a stranger. I hate living with you.’

      In all the years he’d known her, this was the first he’d seen of anything approaching vulnerability in her.

      ‘I was trying to protect you.’ For all the good it had done him.

      ‘Why?’ Her mouth stayed parted after the syllable, so tantalisingly close to his own that if he flicked his tongue out it would press against those beautiful lips.

      ‘I thought I needed to keep my distance because I didn’t want to risk you falling in love with me.’

      The wide eyes suddenly narrowed, anger pulsing through them. ‘Of all the arrogant...’ She pushed at his chest.

      He stepped away from her and leant against the opposite surface, trying to get air into his choked lungs.

      ‘You have nothing to worry about on that score.’ The lips he’d been on the verge of kissing had pressed together.

      Nathaniel laughed. How many women had he heard say they didn’t believe in love?

      ‘Don’t you dare laugh at me.’ This time it was Catalina who propelled herself forward, moving gracefully to jam a finger to his chest. ‘I only slept with you because there was no chance in the world of falling in love with you.’

      ‘Say that again?’ Her cutting

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