Alison Roberts - The Forbidden Prince

This was it.

The challenge that was going to tell him who he really was. What his values really were and whether he was made of the right stuff to rule a country in the best interests of the many thousands of people who would be trusting him to do the right thing.

He’d convinced himself that resisting the attraction he felt towards Mika was that test, so why—in this moment after those words had been uttered, when it felt as if time was holding its breath—did it feel so utterly wrong ?

As if he didn’t really have a choice at all?

Again, he was reminded of when she had taken his hand, up there on the top of that cliff. Of when her trembling had finally ceased and he’d known she was trusting him.

He’d felt taller, then. Powerful in a way that had had nothing to do with him as a prince but everything to do with who he was as a man. Nothing would have persuaded him to break that trust.

And right now Mika was trusting him with so much more than her hand. She was asking him to take hold of her whole body, and by doing so he would still be leading her to safety—wouldn’t he?

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ALISON ROBERTSis a New Zealander, currently lucky enough to live near a beautiful beach in Auckland. She is also lucky enough to write for both the Mills & Boon Cherish and Medical Romance lines. A primary school-teacher in a former life, she is also a qualified paramedic. She loves to travel and dance, drink champagne and spend time with her daughter and her friends.

For Becky

With all my love

Contents

COVER

INTRODUCTION This was it. The challenge that was going to tell him who he really was. What his values really were and whether he was made of the right stuff to rule a country in the best interests of the many thousands of people who would be trusting him to do the right thing. He’d convinced himself that resisting the attraction he felt towards Mika was that test, so why—in this moment after those words had been uttered, when it felt as if time was holding its breath—did it feel so utterly wrong ? As if he didn’t really have a choice at all? Again, he was reminded of when she had taken his hand, up there on the top of that cliff. Of when her trembling had finally ceased and he’d known she was trusting him. He’d felt taller, then. Powerful in a way that had had nothing to do with him as a prince but everything to do with who he was as a man. Nothing would have persuaded him to break that trust. And right now Mika was trusting him with so much more than her hand. She was asking him to take hold of her whole body, and by doing so he would still be leading her to safety—wouldn’t he?

TITLE PAGE The Forbidden Prince Alison Roberts www.millsandboon.co.uk

ABOUT THE AUTHOR ALISON ROBERTS is a New Zealander, currently lucky enough to live near a beautiful beach in Auckland. She is also lucky enough to write for both the Mills & Boon Cherish and Medical Romance lines. A primary school-teacher in a former life, she is also a qualified paramedic. She loves to travel and dance, drink champagne and spend time with her daughter and her friends.

DEDICATION For Becky With all my love

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

EPILOGUE

EXTRACT

COPYRIGHT

CHAPTER ONE

SO THIS WAS what freedom felt like.

Raoul de Poitier sucked in a deep breath as he paused to get his first proper glimpse of the view he’d climbed about two thousand steps to find.

He had the whole world at his feet.

Well...he had what looked like a large part of the Amalfi coast of the Mediterranean down there, anyway. Far, far below he could pick out the tiny blue patch that was the swimming pool on the roof of the hotel Tramonto d’Oro where he’d stayed last night. Beside that was the tiled dome and spire of the ancient church against the terracotta tiles and white houses of the small coastal town of Praiano.

Beyond the village, the waters of the Mediterranean stretched as far as the horizon, a breathtakingly sapphire blue as the sunlight gentled its way to dusk. Somewhere out there was his homeland—the European principality of Les Iles Dauphins.

Another deep breath was released in what felt like a sigh, and with it came a pang of...what... homesickness? Guilt, perhaps?

His grandfather was ill. His heart was failing and it was time for him to step down from ruling his land. To hand the responsibility to the next-in-line to the throne.

His grandmother would be anxious. Not only about her beloved husband but about the grandson she’d raised as her own child after the tragic death of his parents.

‘I don’t understand, Raoul. A holiday...yes. Time to prepare yourself for what is to come. For your marriage... But alone? Incognito? That’s not who you are.’

‘Maybe that’s what I need to find out, Mamé. And this is the last chance I will ever get.’

No. The pang wasn’t guilt. He needed this time to centre himself for what was to come. To be sure that he had what it took to put aside his own desires if that was what was required to protect and nurture a whole nation, albeit a tiny one. He was thirty-two years old but he hadn’t been really tested yet. Oh, there’d been formal duties that had got in the way of private pleasures, and he had always had to curb any desire to push the boundaries of behaviour that might be frowned on by others. But, within that reasonably relaxed circumference, he’d been able to achieve the career that had been top of his chosen list—as a helicopter pilot in his country’s first-rate rescue service. And he’d had his share of a seemingly infinite supply of beautiful women.

All that was about to change, however. The boundaries would shrink to contain him in a very tight space. Almost every minute of every day would be accounted for.

He had always known it would happen. He just wasn’t sure how ready he was to accept it. Somehow, he needed to find that out. To test himself, by himself, which was why this had to be in a place where he knew no one and no one knew who he was.

Was it homesickness, perhaps? Because he was feeling a new and rather extraordinary sensation of being alone? No. He’d dealt with homesickness many years ago when he’d been sent to the best schools that Europe had to offer and, while the love of his family and homeland would always draw him back and enfold him, he loved to travel.

It was relief, that was what it was. He had won this time. A reprieve from thinking about the overwhelming responsibility of being in charge of a nation, along with the daunting prospect of a marriage that had been arranged when he’d been no more than a child. A union that would bond two similar principalities together and strengthen them both.

Raoul turned away from the view of the sea. Les Iles Dauphins was out of sight and he was going to try and put it out of mind for just a little while.

He was free. All he had was in his backpack and he could choose any direction at all, the time he would take to get there and how long he would stay when he did. As of yesterday, nobody knew where he was and he was confident that nobody would recognise him. His hair grew fast and he’d deliberately missed his last cut. His beard was coming along well, too. With his dark sunglasses, he could pass for any European tourist. Italian, French... Spanish, even.

He could feel the corners of his mouth curve. If he’d had a guitar case on his back instead of his backpack, he would probably have looked like a flashback to the sixties. He was completely alone for what felt like the first time in his entire life. No family, no friends and, most importantly, no bodyguards or lurking paparazzi. He had won the freedom simply to be himself.