Royal Seduction (14 page)

Riley raked agitated fingers through his hair as he watched the old man stomp away. The anger pumping through him was hot as a blaze.

“Hey, there! You're looking particularly sexy and satiated this morning.”

He turned to see Catherine coming toward him. Sunlight glinted golden off her flaxen hair. Her smile and her blue eyes flashed alluringly. But neither the sight of her lovely face nor the teasing in her tone was enough to snuff out his fury.

Riley glowered at her. “Why the hell didn't you tell me you were a virgin?”

T
he magnitude of Riley's anger hit Catherine full force. Her smile disappeared without a trace. Self-consciously, she glanced around at the people coming and going on the sidewalk.

Finding her tongue, she quietly asked, “Do we have to talk about this out here?”

Without a word, Riley stalked toward the entrance of the clinic.

Refusing to be intimidated by him, she said, “I'm surprised that you're angry. Everything seemed fine when you left this morning.”

“I'm surprised that you're surprised.”

They rounded a corner in the hall and came face to face with Faye, who was with a man Catherine had never seen here at the clinic.

“Catherine, hi,” Faye greeted. “How are you doing today?”

All those years of etiquette training kicked in and Catherine returned Faye's smile. “I'm well, thanks. Yourself?”

“Just fine. This is Dr. Richie,” she introduced. “Doctor, this is Catherine Houston. She's been coming to the clinic for about two weeks now.”

Catherine could feel Riley brooding beside her.

“Dr. Richie.” Catherine offered her hand. “How nice to finally meet you. You've been the talk of this place since I first arrived.”

The man's dark eyes grew hooded. “I'll bet.”

Faye turned her attention to Riley. “I'm taking Dr. Richie into the lab. I'll send someone to clear up the coffee mess I left in your office.”

“There's no need for that. I can do it myself.” Riley's tone was curt enough to make Faye pause.

“You okay?” she asked him.

“I'm fine.” The words were snipped tight enough so that no further discussion would dare be required.

Faye looked from Riley to Catherine, unasked questions clouding her eyes. Catherine shot her a look of warning. Then Faye leveled her gaze on Riley.

“I left my schedule on your desk,” she told him. “You still up to covering for me today?”

“I said I would, and I will.”

“Okay, then.” But she clearly sounded unconvinced.

“Nice to have met you, Dr. Richie,” Catherine rushed to say before hurrying to catch Riley who had started toward his office.

She barely made it through the door when he slammed it behind her, the thump making her start.

“Okay,” he practically growled at her, “I'm ready for an
explanation. Why would a woman who has saved herself for as long as you have—”

“Just stop right there! You're talking like I'm a wrinkled old prune of a spinster or something. I'll have you know—”

“Do not change the subject, Catherine. Don't go off on a tirade. You know exactly what I'm trying to say.”

“My virginity is mine to give to whomever I please,” she said. “I should think you'd be happy that you were my first. Correct me if I have the wrong idea, but it's pretty well known that you American men love to put those notches on your bedposts.”

“Who's being insulting now, Catherine?” he charged. “I resent being lumped into a stupid stereotype with every other American man. And I also resent your insinuation that I make it a practice to engage in meaningless sex for the sole purpose of notching my bedpost.” His tone turned gruff as he added, “My bed doesn't even have posts, thank you very much.”

“I'd say you're the one on a tirade,” she muttered. Then she tipped her head a fraction. “So are you saying that last night meant something to you?”

From the look on his handsome face, she could tell she'd turned the tables on him. She could also tell that he didn't like it one bit.

“There you go again,” he said. “Changing the subject.”

She tipped up her chin, arching her eyebrows. “Well, you can't expect me to answer your questions if you're unwilling to answer mine.”

He countered pointedly, “But you haven't answered my question. And I asked mine first.”

That was true enough; however, panic set in and Catherine wasn't even sure how to respond without exposing
details of her life she wasn't ready to reveal. So instead, she accused, “You wanted me last night just as much as I wanted you.”

“Of course I wanted you! I'm a red-blooded male. You're a beautiful woman, Catherine. On the inside as well as on the outside. What man wouldn't want you?”

Catherine's arms fell to her sides. The sigh that soughed through her when she heard those words could only be described as pure gratification, airy, light and heart-lifting.

“I fought the attraction I felt for you,” he continued, “from the very first time we met.”

“I knew it! But
why?
” she cried, unable to quell the plaintive quality in those two small words.

He paused, his expression turning guarded. “For lots of reasons.” He moistened his lips. “You made it clear you would only be in Portland for a while, and you said you were only looking for a friend.”

But his gaze slid from hers.

“Oh, come on. I've been doing all I can to entice you into—”

“But at the restaurant, you said—”

“There's no way you didn't know I wanted things to progress!” she accused. “I've been flirting with—
We've
been flirting with
each other
from the start. Come on. Admit it.”

He didn't speak right away, so she pushed, “Why, Riley? Why would you not want to act on what you were feeling?” Her chuckle was low. “Once you did, you sure got a reaction out of me.”

“You don't have to remind me,” he said with a scowl. “I was there last night. Your reaction is forever seared into my brain.”

Catherine suppressed the delighted grin threatening to
curl her lips. “So…” She lifted her hands palms up. “Why'd you fight it so hard?”

What she really wanted to ask was why he'd forced her to use the NoWait. But she didn't dare. She was desperate to hear all about how he'd truly wanted to take her to bed
before
she'd used the oil that had aroused their sexual desires to the point that neither of them could possibly resist.

Riley sighed, and for several seconds she feared he didn't intend to explain.

He crossed his arms over his chest. “I knew about you right from the start,” he began.

He knew? The question pierced her brain like an arrow the same time it shot from her mouth. “You knew?”

What did he know? That she'd lied about her name? That she was of royal birth?

“You see,” he continued, evidently not realizing her distress, “I dated a girl once who came from a well-to-do family.”

Catherine relaxed.

“I've already told you that I'm from the blue-collar world, Catherine. Needless to say, the girl's father wouldn't accept me as suitable. I was utterly humiliated and I vowed that I wouldn't suffer that kind of embarrassment again. And the only way to do that would be to steer clear of women like you. Women who exist in a whole different realm than the one I exist in.”

If he only knew how perfect his word choices were.

Although his story was a tad skimpy on the details, she still felt great empathy for him and his experience.

“I'm sorry, Riley,” she said. “Every person deserves to be treated with respect and dignity, no matter what their financial situation might be.”

“You've been so closemouthed about your family,” he said, “and where you're from. It probably wasn't fair of me to take for granted how I might or might not be accepted. But my past experience was so hellish that I never really allowed myself to think about it much, anyway. I never want to encounter anything like that again, Catherine. Ever.”

Guilt, thick and choking, gathered in her chest, rose to her throat. How would she ever tell him the full truth about herself? He thought she came merely from a wealthy family. And he'd been hurt by people like that; he'd been judged and humiliated by them. Keeping secrets from him about her identity had been wrong. The idea had seemed so harmless when she'd made the decision to do it, but now she was learning that her secret wasn't at all harmless.

She swallowed, but remained silent.

Riley lifted his gaze to her face, his dark eyes intense. “Okay,” he said quietly, “I've answered your questions. I've told you why I tried not to get too involved with you. Now it's time for you to answer mine.”

Dread chilled her blood and she nearly shivered. She didn't want to face the truth. And she sure didn't want Riley to know it.

“Why, Catherine?” His coffee-colored eyes bored into her. “Why didn't you tell me you were a virgin? Why did you let me—”

He stopped, obviously upset by the questions he was asking.

When she remained quiet, he gently demanded, “Why would you give me such a precious gift?”

The realities of her life closed in on her, and thoughts whirled in her head. Her knees felt weak and she felt the urgent need to sit down.

She went to one of the high-backed leather chairs and sat, balling her hands into fists and settling them onto her lap.

“Catherine?”

Running from home had seemed so easy. But there was no running from this. Riley wasn't going to allow her to escape.

“I—I needed t-to know,” she stammered, her insides quaking. “I wanted to be wanted. For me.”

Her answer only confused him. His frown told her that.

She tried again. “I wanted to be a normal, regular woman who was desired by a normal, regular man. I—I couldn't bear the idea of living the rest of my life with…” She let the rest of the sentence trail off and she looked down, suddenly surprised by how white her knuckles had become.

She tried to relax.

This was Riley. She'd gone out with him. Talked with him. Teased him. They'd spent lots of time together over the past weeks. They'd become friends before they were lovers. Surely he wouldn't judge her. He wasn't that kind of person.

“I'm expected to marry when I go home, Riley.” The calmness in her tone astounded her. “I barely know the man. But I do know I'll never love him. He's only agreed to marry me because of who I am. I could never respect a man who would do such a thing. And I could never love a man I don't respect.” A lump rose in her throat and moisture scalded the backs of her eyelids. “I didn't consciously set out to sleep with you, Riley. I'd just thought I might have a little naughty fun.” The words sounded so immature when she said them. “But I'm glad it happened. I'm glad you and I slept together. I can't abide the idea of hav
ing to give my…of having to lose my—” She inhaled a shaky breath. Her voice was small as she said, “I'm glad my first time won't be in those circumstances, Riley. It's going to be bad enough sleeping with—”

With a man who, she knew in her heart, wouldn't be faithful. Who cared nothing at all for her as a person. Who had only offered to marry her for the prestige and advantage that came with her name and title and wealth.

It was all so cold and unfeeling. No wonder normal, everyday people had preconceived notions about the nobility of the world. They were a quirky bunch.

She realized suddenly that Riley hadn't said a word. Catherine looked up at him and saw that his face had gone quite pale.

He lowered himself into the chair flanking hers and stared off across the room. They were silent for some time.

Finally Riley asked, “Who are you exactly, Catherine?”

She squared her shoulders. He knew much of her secret. He might as well learn everything. “My name is Catherine von Husden.”

A tiny line bit into the space between his dark eyebrows. “I read about a von Husden in the papers. He visited Portland not too long ago.” He shook his head. “He married a local woman and then returned to his home to be crowned king.”

“That would be Max, my cousin. King of Lantanya.”

“Lantanya?”

“An island kingdom in the Adriatic Sea,” she explained. “Just off the coasts of Albania and Italy.”

He nodded vaguely, but she could tell the information she was relaying was overwhelming him.

“Your English is excellent,” he said. “But you do have a Mediterranean accent.”

He was attempting to conduct himself as if what he was hearing was the most normal thing in the world.

“I had an American nanny for years.” Catherine crossed her legs and nervously smoothed the fabric of her skirt. “My sister did, as well. My father thought it was important for us to master the English language.”

“Do you speak other languages? I remember at dinner you rattled off the names of those wines so easily.”

His tone had taken on a foggy quality that Catherine did her best to ignore. His subconscious was at work making small talk, she suspected, in order to give his brain time to get used to the overwhelming news she'd just dumped on him.

“I speak French, German and Italian fluently. And I can make my needs known in a few other languages, too.” She smiled. “You never know where you'll be when you need to use the facilities.”

His dark head bobbed, but she was uncertain just how much of this he was taking in.

“So, that's where you live? Lantanya?”

“No,” she said, “actually my country is Lextanya. It's a smaller island across the strait from Lantanya. Though we're a protectorate of Lantanya. My father is Prince Wilhelm Adolf von Husden.”

He nodded vaguely, prompting, “So that would make you…”

“Princess Catherine von Husden.”

Riley looked as if the smallest touch of a feather just might knock him over.

“I know it's a lot to take in.”

Again he nodded, and Catherine wanted to reach over to offer a comforting touch. But she didn't dare because she feared he might shake off her hand. He might come
out of that stuporlike state and shout and rail at her. He had every right to be upset that she hadn't told him the full truth about who and what she was.

Riley seemed to be looking out the window, but Catherine suspected he wasn't actually seeing anything. His thoughts were most probably in utter chaos at the moment. His forehead would crease, then smooth, then crease again, as he evidently worked everything out in his head.