Lucy Monroe - One Night Heir

“Cold?” Maks purred, pushing even closer. “Let me warm you.”

“I’m not co—” But Gillian wasn’t allowed to finish the thought.

His mouth covered hers in a kiss that demanded full submission and reciprocation.

Her body—the same body that had shied away from his every touch—now capitulated without a single conscious thought on her part. She sank into him while her mouth softened under his, allowing him immediate access to the interior.

Like the marauder his ancestors had been, he took advantage, his tongue seeking hers out with sensual intent. The hand on her throat slid down to her shoulder and then lower.

His triumphant growl was both animalistic and unbearably exciting.

This man might have all the urbanity expected of a prince on the outside, but underneath beat the heart of a ruthless Cossack. He wanted nothing less than everything .

At his command and in his bed!

Crown Prince Maksim Yurkovich and his royal cousin

Prince Demyan know exactly the price of duty.

Having already sacrificed so much,

what is one more thing to them?

Tied to women by necessity, it’s hard to say who is

more surprised by the fiery strength of their desire—

the Princes or their brides.

But when the sheets cool on the marriage bed

who will win…Queen or country?

Read Crown Prince Maksim’s story this month in

ONE NIGHT HEIR

And next month discover how far Prince Demyan will go to do his duty in

PRINCE OF SECRETS

LUCY MONROEstarted reading at the age of four. After going through the childrens’ books at home, she was caught by her mother reading adult novels pilfered from the higher shelves on the bookcase…Alas, it was nine years before she got her hands on a Mills & Boon ®Romance her older sister had brought home. She loves to create the strong alpha males and independent women who people Mills & Boon ®books. When she’s not immersed in a romance novel (whether reading or writing it), she enjoys travel with her family, having tea with the neighbours, gardening, and visits from her numerous nieces and nephews.

Lucy loves to hear from her readers: e-mail Lucy Monroe@LucyMonroe.com, or visit www.LucyMonroe.com

Recent titles by the same author:

NOT JUST THE GREEK’S WIFE

HEART OF A DESERT WARRIOR

FOR DUTY’S SAKE

THE GREEK’S PREGNANT LOVER

Did you know these are also available as eBooks? Visit www.millsandboon.co.uk

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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In sincerest gratitude to my readers,

who have stuck with me through the droughts brought

on by my mom’s final illness and subsequent death,

my own health issues and the many other challenges

life offers us mortals. Your support and encouragement

mean so very much to me and have blessed me truly

beyond measure. Love and hugs to you all!

With particular thanks to Ms Gillian Wheatley of

London for suggesting visual inspiration for my hero.

XOXO

The necessary legal caveat: while Ms Wheatley shares

a first name with the female protagonist in this book,

Gillian Harris is not fashioned after her or based on

Ms Wheatley in any way. Any similarities are purely

coincidental and unintentional by the author.

FURY RIDING HIM like an angry stallion, Crown Prince Maksim of Volyarus let loose with a punch-cross-hook kickboxing combo against his cousin and sparring partner.

Demyan blocked, and the sound of flesh hitting pads mixed with his grunt of surprise. “Something the matter, your highness?”

Maks hated when his cousin, older by four years and raised as a brother with Maks in their family’s palace, referred to him by his title.

Demyan was well aware, but the older man liked pushing buttons, especially during their workout sessions. He said it made the sparring more intense.

Today would have been sufficiently punishing without the added irritation. Not that Maks warned Demyan of that. His cousin deserved what he got.

“Nothing wiping the smug look off your face won’t take care of.” Maks danced back before driving forward with another fast-paced, grueling combo.

Well-matched in stature and strength, they both kept their six-feet-four-inch frames in top physical condition.

“I thought tonight was the big night with Gillian,” Demyan said, scrambling in a way he rarely did during their sessions. “Don’t tell me you think she’s going to turn you down?”

“If I were going to ask, she’d say yes.” And a day ago that certainty had given Maks a great deal of pleasure.

Now, it just taunted him with what he couldn’t have. Namely, Gillian.

“So, what is the problem?” Demyan demanded as he went on the offensive, forcing Maks to defend against a barrage of punches and kicks.

“Her medical tests came back.”

“She’s not sick, is she?” Demyan asked, sounding sincerely concerned.

Coming from a man with a reputation for cold ruthlessness, it would have shocked anyone else.

But Maks knew how much Demyan cared about their family. And for the last eight months, the beautiful, sweet Gillian had been moving closer and closer to joining that group.

“She’s perfectly fine.” If you didn’t count poorly functioning ovaries. “Now.”

“What does that mean?”

“She had appendicitis when she was sixteen.”

“That was ten years ago, what bearing does it have on her health now?”

“Fallopian tubes.”

Demyan stopped and stared at Maks in confusion. “What?”

In no mood to give his cousin a break, Maks took advantage of the other man’s inattention and knocked him on his ass with a well-timed kick.

Demyan jumped to his feet, but he didn’t come back for more like Maks expected. “Knock it off and explain what the hell appendicitis as a teenager has to do with an adult woman’s fallopian tubes.”

Demyan was no idiot. He knew Maks’s interest in Gillian’s reproductive system was of paramount importance to the House of Yurkovich, the royal family of Volyarus.

“She has a poorly functioning reproductive system.” Maks adjusted his thin sparring gloves. “There is less than a thirty percent chance of pregnancy.”

A lot less by some estimations, slightly more by others, according the specialist Maks had consulted.

Demyan shoved hair the same dark color as Maks’s own off his forehead. “With fertility treatment?”

“I have no intention of becoming the next father of sextuplets.”

“Don’t be an ass.”

“I’m not. You know I cannot marry a woman who won’t be able to produce the next heir plus a spare.”