A Whisper of Disgrace(29)
‘But, Highness—’
‘I said we’ll walk.’ And with that, he took her hand in his and began to lead her along the street, his mood unexpectedly buoyant as they began to walk along the wide boulevard. He stared down at their interlocked fingers, suddenly aware of the fact that he’d never held hands with a woman in public before. Her skin was the delicious honeyed shade which denoted her Sicilian upbringing, but his own was very much darker and there seemed to be a certain erotic association about the contrast between the differing hues. ‘And smile,’ he added softly.
It was the most bizarre experience of Rosa’s life, walking in her lace wedding dress through the exclusive streets of the sixteenth arrondissement, her new husband beside her in his flowing white robes. Bodyguards speaking furiously into earpieces shadowed them all the way and people stopped what they were doing to turn and stare. She saw cars slowing down and drivers leaning out of their windows to capture their image on cellphones, and there were yet more press waiting outside his upmarket apartment block. She wondered if there would have been quite so much fuss if Kulal hadn’t been wearing his traditional robes—and that only added to her sense of unreality. As if he was some kind of fantasy figure, rather than an ordinary man. But he isn’t an ordinary man, she reminded herself, and this whole marriage was the stuff of fantasy.
He gripped her hand tightly as yet more flashbulbs exploded in her face, but this time she felt much less intimidated. She waved away the question of what her family would think or how her brothers would respond. Sustained exposure to something meant that you could get used to it and Rosa found she was even able to smile at one of the more persistent lens men. She felt breathless with nerves and a growing excitement as they walked into the foyer and took the elevator up to the penthouse suite, with Kulal watching her in speculative silence all the while, as if he didn’t quite trust himself to speak. She kept telling herself that she wasn’t going to be scared by what was about to happen. She had wanted adventure, hadn’t she? Well, she had certainly found it!
Still silent, he opened the door to his apartment and Rosa stepped into a huge entrance hall. She had been prepared for luxury and she wasn’t disappointed. Impressionist paintings adorned the walls and she’d never seen so much antique furniture outside of a museum. On dark, wooden floors lay faded silk rugs which looked centuries old and she wondered how many different pairs of feet had walked over them. She thought that a place like this could never really feel like home—or more specifically her home, until she remembered that it was never intended to be.
She found herself trained in the spotlight of his dark eyes as he watched her, like a hunter silently following the progress of its quarry.
‘Drink?’ he questioned.
‘Just … some water would be fine.’
He led her into an incongruously modern kitchen of steel and granite and poured her a glass of ice water which she drank standing up, still in her wedding dress. She noticed that he didn’t drink anything himself, and when she’d put her empty glass down, it was to find him still watching her.
‘I want you in my bed,’ he said simply.
She held her breath for a long moment before she expelled it. ‘Then take me there.’
She could sense the growing tension in his body as he led her through a maze of corridors straight into the biggest bedroom she had ever seen, where vases of crimson roses stood on every available surface, their powerful perfume scenting the air. Tall windows overlooked a perfect vista of Paris, where the Seine was glittering in the afternoon sunlight, and beyond that she could see the arching fretwork of the Eiffel Tower.
‘As you see,’ he said. ‘I have made every preparation for our honeymoon. I have even arranged for the sun to shine.’
Rosa glanced around the room, thinking that it looked gorgeous, but slightly unreal—as if a magazine shoot was about to take place. A vast four-poster bed played host to banks of pillows and shiny cushions and a bottle of champagne stood in an ice bucket on a small table nearby. And now there was nothing to stop them. No curious air crew or officials or intrusive cameras hovering nearby. Now she could give herself up to what she had been aching to experience for so long. She was going to start living the way other people lived, and for the first time in her life she was going to have sex.
She saw that he was staring at her and the pounding in her heart increased.
‘Do you know, I have never seen a woman look more beautiful,’ he said, swallowing down an inexplicable lump in his throat and finding himself surprised by his reaction. Was that because she had resisted him? Because she had not let him have her on the plane? He had never waited so long to have sex with a woman and the postponement of pleasure was making him ache. With a commanding finger, he beckoned to her. ‘Come here.’