His Pregnant Princess. Maisey YatesЧитать онлайн книгу.
never go away entirely. It was an impossibility. Guarding the life of another person twenty-four hours a day meant rest wasn’t optional.
And there was no one else to whom he trusted Alys’s safety.
Her old guards had missed a threat that had nearly cost the young princess her life, and Liam had taken a bullet—thankfully only to the flak jacket—in order to save her.
And he would do it again. Because the royal family of Brynland had his allegiance. Because their country had been his home when he’d had none. Because he’d found purpose in their household.
And because he cared so deeply for their princess.
Another reason he could never fully relax.
Alys had a strange hold on him. Her safety and well-being seemed inextricably linked to his own. If anything happened to her, he was certain he would forfeit his life. Then there were the other ways Alys had hold of him.
His body tightened at the thought and he pushed it away. She was too young, among other things. He was ten years older and a hell of a lot more jaded. One marriage behind him already.
Then there was the small matter of him not being royalty. The Bowens had an impeccable lineage containing royal blood from many European lines, and they did not marry commoners.
It was Alys who’d had a prospect pegged from a very early age. Royal, suitable in every way. All the things Liam was most definitely not.
A good thing he had something to keep him in line. Another man standing in the wings.
He laughed and turned the water off, stepping out of the shower and wrapping a towel around his waist.
A strange thing to want to protect a woman from everything. From danger, from censure...and all the while wishing more than anything that you could ravish her.
Yes, very strange.
But it was his life, and had been for far longer than it should have been. His devotion to Alys and to the Royal Family had been one of the main factors in the dissolution of his marriage. He’d never touched Alys, never violated the vows he’d made to his wife or to Alys’s father, but his life was centered around the princess. And that meant it couldn’t be centered around the woman he’d married. A fact Neve had come to resent, and he couldn’t blame her.
Neve had been aware of what he’d done for a living before they’d married, and what it meant to him, but she hadn’t truly understood until after they’d taken their vows. Until she’d had to spend half her nights alone.
No wife wanted to share her husband with another woman. And that’s what she’d been doing.
It was what any woman in his life would be doing. Even if he never touched Alys, she would always be a part of him.
Because Alys had his loyalty first. And always. Which was why he was staying single. And why it was becoming harder to ignore his attraction to the beautiful princess.
Three years of celibacy was taxing on a man’s self-control.
He pushed open the bathroom door and walked out into his room, his hand on the towel. And he froze. Before he saw her, he knew she was there. Because he could feel her. It was one reason he was able to protect her so easily. He always knew where Alys was. What she was doing. If she was breathing.
She was here now. And she was breathing very hard.
He looked into the corner of the room and saw her sitting in one of the wide armchairs. In an instant, he took in every detail, as he was trained to do. He evaluated the danger. Her curves were barely covered by a cream silk bathrobe, nipples visible through the thin fabric, her strawberry-gold hair loose, damp and curling. Her makeup was gone, her skin pink as though it was freshly scrubbed.
Yes, he evaluated the danger and found it to be very, very real.
“What are you doing in here? Is everything all right?”
She shook her head, her eyes wide.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, crossing the room and moving to the door that connected his suite to hers. “Is someone...”
“Nothing like that, Liam. The gates haven’t been breached.”
“Then what is it?” He turned to face her, his posture automatically going rigid, as though he were on duty. And not bare-ass naked under the towel he was clinging to for all he was worth.
“I need to talk to you.”
That in and of itself wasn’t so strange. They talked a lot. Especially when they were away on trips like this and sharing a room. Often they would sit in the common area and talk for hours. But not like this. Not in a bedroom. Not while he was wearing a towel and she was wearing a robe that allowed him to accurately judge her cup size from ten paces.
“It couldn’t have waited?”
“No,” she said, shaking her head. “It’s been waiting, Liam.” Her words echoed in the room. “How much longer do we leave it? Until I’m engaged? Until I’m married and we can never speak of it?”
“Alys...”
“No. I was watching them, the bride and groom. They love each other and it’s a beautiful thing. But more than that...they chose to be together. I envy that, more than you can ever know. That endless, wonderful array of choices that were set out before them. A world open. Even Ferro and Julia, the business rivals, they have all these odds stacked against them and yet, they chose each other. Even though it makes no sense. I don’t have that luxury. I can never choose a man who doesn’t make any sense. I can never choose the man that I really want. And I have spent a long time pretending it didn’t matter. Prepared to do my duty. When I get back from the wedding, my father and I are meeting to discuss when exactly the engagement should become finalized. I’m twenty-four and that’s leaving things a bit too long in his opinion.” She took a deep breath. “That means that this can’t wait. You know that.”
“What is it you’re talking about?” he asked, his entire body tight, ready to snap in two.
“You know.”
He knew. It had been there between them for longer than it should have been. He’d thought he’d hidden it well. He’d thought she hadn’t realized how much he wanted her. He’d even convinced himself it was one-sided, because that was far less dangerous than acknowledging that she might want him, too.
“I’m not going to say it. And it isn’t because I’m a coward,” he said, his throat constricted, his voice rough. “It’s because I have been trusted with the task of protecting you, which means every thought I’ve ever entertained of doing something to the contrary has been in violation of my orders. Any time I have allowed myself to be distracted because you were on my mind—your face, your body and not your safety—I compromised you. And if I were to speak the words now, or act on the impulse that I felt, I would be leaving my role as protector behind completely in favor of becoming a predator, and I will not do that.” He took a step closer to her, his hands trembling. “But if you say the words. If you cross the line...”
“I’ve been good all of my life. Never causing scandal, never doing anything beyond what was expected of me. But that’s because I think I never wanted anything enough to make rebellion worth it. But I do now. I want you,” she said, without hesitation, without pause. “That’s why I’m here. Because I will not have everything decided for me, and when I go into that meeting with my father I will go in feeling like I’ve at least lived some of the life I wanted. I can’t have everything I want. My position makes that impossible. But...but dammit, Liam, I will have a piece of what I want.” She stood up, her voice trembling, her hands trembling. She was a force of anger and sadness, beautiful and desolate. She made him ache.
She always made him ache.
“In your one last grab for the things you want...you would choose me?” he asked, not trusting his voice. Not trusting anything at the moment.
“Every