Abducting the Princess by Mel Teshco Page A

that a life together was possible. That by marrying him she wasn’t forsaking her duty or abandoning her people.
    His heavy lidded eyes moved past her thighs and the little beckoning triangle of fuzz that covered her mound, to linger on her flat belly. He could imagine her as a mother to their children. A child who could even now be growing inside her.
    “Maybe I should build an extension on my cabin,” he mused.
    A frown crinkled her smooth brow. “Why?”
    “Make another couple of bedrooms to accommodate our children.”
     
    Her eyelids flicked wide open. If anything could have shattered the moment, it was talk of babies. Surely he wouldn’t be so cruel as to suggest such a thing? But he was deadly serious, his face revealing a depth of longing that couldn’t be mistaken.
    Bloody hell. Clearly he didn’t know that the possibility of having a child together was next to impossible. She would soon be wed to another. She shook her head, sad beyond measure when she whispered, “That’s never going to happen.”
    His jaw clenched, shoulders noticeably stiffening. “You don’t think I’m good enough?” He snorted disgust, awareness and accusation leaping from his eyes. “Or is it my nightmix blood that unnerves you?”
    She frowned, taken aback by his distrust. “You say that after everything we’ve shared?”
    “That’s exactly it though, isn’t it?” he rasped. “After everything we’ve shared I say I want to spend the rest of my life with you, want you to have our babies.” He jerked into a sitting position. “You. Don’t.”
    She put a hand on his shoulder. He flinched and her words came out as if she’d just choked on sand. “That’s not it at all.”
    The ear-piercing sound of what she guessed was a ram’s horn trumpeted outside. It was what many of the outlying people used to warn of imminent danger.
    Mahaya swung into action. “Get dressed,” he rasped. “We’ve got company.”
    But it was too late. Horses thundered to a stop just outside. She grabbed a bed cushion to hide herself even as Mahaya wrenched on his pants and retrieved his sword.
    Men shouted protest as footsteps approached. The door was flung open and a man stood framed in the doorway.
    She shrank back, disbelieving. “Jarvias.”

     

Chapter Seven
     
    She turned to Mahaya, but he’d already withdrawn his blade, evidently aware the man in the doorway was a king’s soldier and no threat.
    If only he knew.
    Her fiancé stood immobile for perhaps another ten seconds, his stare taking in the scene. Disappointment bit into his face. But jealousy or even a touch of possessiveness was distinctly absent.
    Relief was followed quickly by despair knowing this was to be her future.
    “I didn’t expect this of you, Mira,” Jarvias said at last.
    Why because everyone assumed she was sexless?
    An avalanche of shame immediately buried the thought. It’d never been her intention to hurt Jarvias. Regardless of his detachment, he wasn’t a bad man. He was fair and considerate in every way. And he showed those traits even now.
    Yet despite it all, she’d do it all over again.
    Mahaya had been her everything.
    But no more. She couldn’t abandon everyone. Her chin lifted. She had a duty to her kingdom to fulfill.
    Jarvias glanced at his rival before he turned back to her and said evenly, “I’m willing to put this behind us, start afresh for our people.” His stare held hers. “If you are.”
    For our people.
    Had she become so conditioned to doing everything for everyone else that even those closest to her used it for their own gain? Not that it mattered, anyway. Jarvias was right. Like it or not, their marriage was for the good of their kingdom.
    Mahaya loomed beside her as though a dark shadow. But he wasn’t the enemy she’d once assumed him to be. Goddess, he was the very antithesis. He was loyal, devoted to her needs. With him she wasn’t just a princess. She was a woman in every way that counted.
    It was nothing short of