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by Kate Hofman
Category: Romance/General Nonfiction
Description: Lady Margaret, daughter of the late Earl Bronley, is working at an art gallery in Ocean Breeze, Florida, when her employer asks her to do him a favour and go over to his friend, Prince Alessandro of Sant' Angelo. He needs someone to do some work. When she arrives, she realizes that the work he wants her to do is accompanying him to a formal dinner. She agrees, only to find that the Prince expects her to take part in a 'quickie' so they can both be relaxed during the probably endless dinner. Later, they will enjoy more leisurely pleasures. Incensed, Margaret wants to refuse, but the Prince succeeds in seducing her. A month later, he arrives at the gallery, to ask Margaret whether she is pregnant--the condom broke. She says, Yes, she is, but she will manage very well on her own. Horrified, the Prince explains that she is carrying the heir to his throne, and they will have to get married. Margaret refuses angrily. Will the Prince succeed in convincing Margaret to marry him so that his child will be born the legitimate heir to the throne? And even if he succeeds, what kind of marriage will they have, with her refusing his every olive branch?
eBook Publisher: DCL Publications LLC, 2009 Australia
eBookwise Release Date: May 2009
28 Reader Ratings:
Available eBook Formats: OEBFF Format (IMP) [82 KB]
Reading time: 46-64 min.
They entered the bedroom, and Margaret moved to a sofa by the open fireplace, but Alessandro had other ideas. "I detest sofas for what I have in mind, cara," he shrugged, and swept Margaret with him to the huge bed.
"I'm afraid you've made a mistake, I am not interested in that sort of thing, please let me go." Her voice shaking with indignation, Margaret tried to free herself, but Alessandro had a firm grip on her, and managed to tumble her back onto his bed.
"Very nice, you've made your protest, and now we can get on with the more serious business of pleasuring each other," he said calmly.
"Not with me, you won't! I am Tom's office manager, and did him the favour of coming to do secretarial work for you, I didn't.... I'm not like..."
"With the right amount of coaxing, all women are exactly like that," Alessandro assured her, to her fury.
"Where have you been while women liberated themselves from men like you?" Margaret asked, deeply upset. "No means no, and you better get used to that. Now let me go!"
Alessandro smiled. "I like this. You can't imagine how tired I get of women draping themselves all over me, eager for the cachet of having slept with a prince..."
Margaret interrupted him, "Believe me, I'm not the least bit interested in sleeping with a prince I barely met this morning. I'll agree to go to this dinner with you, that is all. I will borrow one of these dresses, which I will return to you at the end of the dinner. But that is it."
Alessandro frowned. "I dislike coaxing, but if I must, I must, I suppose. It's the Summer Solstice, Margaret, we have to celebrate it. And the best way to celebrate the Summer Solstice ... Come on, cara, don't be difficult, you know you're only playing games with me. I saw your eyes; you want me." He succeeded in getting the bathsheet off her, and his own clothes melted away as if by magic. He must have seduced zillions of women...
"For heaven's sake, Margaret, you're as slippery as an eel. How can I ... Ah..." To her distress, Margaret felt herself penetrated none too gently by something huge. She couldn't hold back a small cry of pain, which Alessandro seemed to take as a personal compliment. He drew back a little and she hoped he would withdraw entirely, but no, he only drove himself in deeper, and harder.
Still in pain from his tearing the hymen, she was wondering when she would be introduced to the joys of lovemaking, when Alessandro speeded up, finally whispering, "Ah..." against her mouth, as she felt the heat of his seed exploding into her depths. Oh, my. I've never felt anything as totally erotic as this ... But the books said I'd feel absolute rapture ... Maybe that comes with practice ... With him? That isn't very likely, no. Moments later, he collapsed on her.
After a while he left her body. "I'm sorry this had to be a quickie, Margaret, but later we'll have all night and..."
Margaret rolled off the bed, not bothering with the bathsheet, quickly finding her own clothes and getting into them with remarkable speed. "I hope I never see you again. And I'll tell Tom what your secretarial work consisted of. Call yourself royal--a kid from a public school could teach you manners." With that, Margaret flew to the door, his plaintive, "But cara, what on earth is wrong?" sounding in her ears. Once in the big reception room, Margaret saw two men getting up. She threw them a repressive glance, strode unhurriedly through the double entrance doors, and went quickly into the elevator. I've got to get out of here! was her only thought. She made it to the hotel's huge lobby without being intercepted by any of Alessandro's staffers. Which was lucky for the staffers, she thought.
By time she got back to the gallery, intending to complain bitterly to Tom about his friend's true intentions, the gallery was closed. Damn. I'd better go home. Have another shower. Wash that royal bastard's fingerprints off me.