Marion Lennox - Marrying His Majesty

‘I can cope. As long as there’s laughter,’ she said, breathless again. When he looked like that…

It was still too soon, the sane part of her brain whispered. Sense said she needed to taste freedom first.

But not now. Not when the rest of her brain was disagreeing. Not as he was tugging his shirt free, baring his chest, making her gasp…

‘Laughter,’ he said, agreeing. Smiling and smiling. ‘Okay, my love, here we go. Two sausages in a pan. One turns to the other and says, “Gee, it’s hot in here.” What does the other one say?’

He was loving her with his eyes. He was smiling down at her with that wicked, laughing smile—and he was waiting for an answer to his dumb riddle. ‘I don’t know,’ she whispered, choking with laughter and something else entirely. ‘What does the other one say?’

‘“Bless my soul, it’s a talking sausage!”’ he said, and he grinned like a seven-year-old cracking his first riddle. It was so ridiculous she found herself laughing with him.

While hungering for him with every nerve in her body.

And then he was beside her on the bed, lifting her T-shirt over her head. Unclipping her bra.

‘But it’s not just the sausage who’s hot,’ he whispered, laughter fading, his strong, skilful fingers moving to cup her breasts. ‘Lily, you’re the most beautiful woman in the world. You give yourself to me and I can’t believe that you do. I’ll never let you forget it. But now, my love… Now is for us. Now is for laughter. Now is for loving. And if we try very hard… ’ He closed his eyes and she had a feeling he was taking a mighty step forward. ‘Now might just end up being forever.’

Only forever had a habit of being not as long as expected.

In Athens, a plane was landing. A private jet. A woman emerged. She stood on the tarmac and surveyed the scene before her. Deeply displeased.

There was no one to meet her. Olivia had needed to barter with her daughter to get this flight. Mia had grudgingly arranged for Ben’s plane to bring her here. The negotiations had made her seethe. While her daughters lived in splendour, she had to fend for herself.

Okay, maybe she would have done the same if she’d been her daughters’ age, she conceded. Maybe she had. But for Lily to forget she was her mother… Not even to invite her to her wedding…

Some things were unconscionable. Sometimes a gentle reminder was needed.

Or a big one.

She made her way into the terminal, went through Customs—like a mere mortal, she thought savagely—and then thought of what to do next.

A private plane to Sappheiros was out of the question. Unless…

Unless the press came to the party. Which they would. She simply had to open her mouth and tell them who she was.

Mother of the Queen. Mother of the Crown Princess.

She’d done very well for her girls.

She now intended Lily to acknowledge it.

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