Angus closed the newspaper he had been poring over and squeezed his eyes shut. Almost eight days.

A full week had passed—seven days lush with fragile light and delicate dawns, purple nights, and the arrival of spring.

And in those passing days, those jewels of Lennox were a thousand sights he wanted to share with her.

He couldn’t go on like this—they couldn’t go on like this.

With a sigh, he leaned back and looked up at the blue sky, thinking about their discussion about marriage once more.

She wanted his love. She wanted his heart.

Giving her his name, his money, his houses, wasn’t enough for Siobhan and Angus doubted it ever would be.

He did not believe Siobhan was out to take his money. He was giving it to her freely and she was giving him hell for it.

He couldn’t recall the last time he’d felt even a faint glimmer of this type of protectiveness about a woman. And while he could chalk it up to the fact that Siobhan was pregnant with his heir, he knew it was not that. No, this was much more than just her being pregnant.

Despite all of his attempts to keep her out of his emotions, to keep her at arm’s length and not let her in, she was working her way to his fractured heart.

He couldn’t allow that to happen. What if she leaves? What if she dies?

So, it was best for him to maintain some distance, pretend to be aloof about his feelings for her. He could fight his emotions, even if he couldn’t keep his hands to himself.

He’d been trying to win her as Ludwig had suggested, to no avail. He had brought her clothes and her old and ugly glasses from London but she was still giving him only cool civility, and a man couldn’t do a bloody thing with that kind of response.

He’d largely ignored work even though he sat in on conference calls with some of the most powerful men in the country, listening to their droning voices but not really comprehending what was going on. Not when she occupied his thoughts, his mind, his...everything.

Like the sharp businessman he’d always been, he had attended meetings with Ludwig and their vice-presidents, but his eyes were never far from the clock on the wall, counting down the minutes until he could be free to leave his office to find and face off with the woman that had done nothing but infuriate him time and time again.

These kinds of meetings had commanded his attention before he had met Siobhan, giving him the satisfaction of yet another win in his column in terms of business. The expanding of his Royal Asset Management was coming along at a rapid pace. Their newest venture for the newly formed merger between Lekten Royal Bank and a small German bank was almost finished which would have kept his mind busy enough without Siobhan in it. And as for the deals regarding Prime Minister, he had no qualms they would be settled by the end of the month. Things were on the upswing. He should be on top of the world.

But he wasn’t. In his personal life, he was struggling to keep his head above water. Angus rubbed a hand over his face, his body both physically and mentally exhausted. He had tried hard to erase all haunting memories of the vision of Siobhan’s face when she discovered he had kidnapped her.

Damn it! He pounded his fist upon his desk, sending papers fluttering and pens scurrying.

He would give her anything she wanted. Anything but leaving me. Never that.

And lord knows he wanted her in his bed. I should have ravished her yesterday. Or this morning.

In spite of her protests, he didn’t doubt she would have submitted. Didn't doubt she wanted him as much as he wanted her.

Victory was there for the taking.

Bargain or no bargain, she would have been forced to concede to her desire for him—exactly as he wished.

Why isn’t that enough?

She was in his thoughts day and night. In every waking moment and in every dream.

He wouldn’t lose, of course. Wouldn’t permit himself to fail. His existence had all the makings of a gilded, living hell and he could find no exit. As swiftly as it had assailed him, his rage evaporated. How did I make such a mess of it?

As if his thoughts conjured her, Siobhan came out on the veranda where they customarily took their breakfasts, holding another damn romance in her hand. “Good morning.”

“Morning.” Angus stood and walked to the where her place was set, pulling the chair for her to sit. “Please, sit. Do you want me to request something special for you?”

She eyed the food laden on the breakfast table, swallowing hard. “I think I need a moment.”

Angus shook his head and said, “You need to eat, Siobhan.”

She let out a laugh. “I was wondering how long this nicety was going to last before you started bossing me around again.”

“I’m not bossing you around.”

She shook her head slowly. “Do you really believe the words that come out of your mouth? How can you not see what you have done?”

This limbo between us has to end. “Have I done something to offend you?”

“Besides drug me, kidnap me, and keep me prisoner? Besides being patronizing and censuring most of the time?”

He realized he would have to be more specific. “Have I done something to offend you lately?”

Lately? Siobhan looked at Angus, feeling that same sadness and rage build up inside of her. Lately he had done all the things she had just mentioned, now including ruining this morning before it ever got started! Why does his mind fail to register every single thing he has done to me?

She briefly considered pushing him into the nearby pool to get him to understand what she was feeling, then decided against it. He wouldn’t drown but would surely be spitting mad. She had enough to worry about without listening to him rant and rave.

Then with a sigh, she served herself a bowl of fruit salad and a cup of steamy tea, and sat, opening her book.

Angus had never wanted to kiss a woman more. He wanted to kiss her so badly, he could taste it. He’d devour the pink sweetness in those lips, stroke all the tart words from the tip of her tongue. Teach her a lesson or two. Leave her breathless. Rattle her to her bones.

Angus waited, counting the ticks of the clock. After she had dutifully eaten all her fruit salad and drank her tea—and after the tenth quick turn of her book page, it became apparent that she intended to neither eat—nor say—anything more.

Angus continued his study of her, taking a periodic drink of his now lukewarm coffee.

She’d been trying to feign disinterest in him as she ate and read, but her eyes hungrily sought to study him.

Siobhan abruptly set her book down and dropped her elbows on the table, something that would have earned his mother’s highest rebuke. “May I ask you a question?”

He inclined his head.

“Why do you drink it?”

His brow creased.

She pointed to his cup. “You’ve grimaced after every sip. Why drink it, if you despise it?”

No one has noticed that before. His mouth parted in brief startlement, which he instantly concealed behind an easy grin. “I’ll explain my coffee indulgence when you explain why you’re so set against marrying me.”

She instantly went close-mouthed, and returned prompt attention to her book. Something about this man—and she knew it went way beyond the fact that he was stunningly, shockingly handsome and male—went straight through her sexual reserve and struck at the very core of her and she wasn’t ready to analyze—or discuss—it yet.

His intrigue redoubled. Had she been any other woman, he’d have accused her of playing coy in a bid to earn his attentions.

Yet, in the past few days, Siobhan Faulkner had shown far more interest in reading—or rather, devouring—the romances in his library than she had in him—or any of the luxuries he had ordered for her.

It was torture to want her, and to know she also wanted him, but was denying themselves the pleasure, just for the sake of making a point.

And the only reason that irked him was because he took pride in the image of wealth and success he’d cultivated. Yes, that’s the only reason.

He rose from his place at the head of the table and walked to her side.

She glanced up briefly, following his movements with quizzical eyes.

“May I take this seat?” he asked quietly.

“Given they’re all your seats, I imagine you could take them apart and use them for firewood if you so desire.”

He snorted. “I’m fairly certain that would qualify as an offense punishable by abdication.”

She laughed.

The sound was clear and bell-like, innocent—wholly unlike the women he kept company with—and infectious, causing him to join in.

Footsteps sounded at the doorway, and they both looked up.

At the door, Jumani announced, “The helicopter is ready, Your Majesty.”

Siobhan looked at him and asked, “Are you going somewhere?”

“We are.” Angus grinned. “We are going shopping.”

Siobhan stifled a groan. “I don’t need anything.”

“You need glasses, new clothes, shoes, and…and all that stuff women need.” Ignoring her lack of enthusiasm, he turned to Jumani and said, “Please tell MacMillian we’ll be there in a moment.”

* * *

She resigned herself to the shopping trip. It did no good to argue. Although she had felt the heat of her anger and hurt cooling somewhat over the last few days, it left a poignant regret. Angus had been mostly avoiding her after their breakfasts together, except for the occasional times he seemed to be trying to sweeten and weaken her resolve for not giving in to his masterful seduction.

But the temptation to fall grew harder to resist every day.

To make matters worse she was battling morning sickness and overwhelming fatigue. It disgusted her how much she needed to sleep in order to feel human.

If only she were home in her cocoon of solitude. Safe again…and lonely.

Don’t do this to yourself. Don’t be a fool, Siobhan. But she couldn’t shake the discomfort she’d felt each time she’d forced herself to say something mean to him. Perhaps he didn’t deserve it.

Before they boarded the helicopter, she studied Angus in the act of turning his handsome face up in welcome to the sun. Dressed in a well-cut navy suit and overcoat, with a dashing scarf around his neck, with his white gold signet gleaming in the soft winter morning light, he looked immaculate in appearance. Everything about him was perfect, and infuriatingly handsome and supremely confident in himself, he was the dreamy royal every girl and grown woman would dream of.

Will I ever feel that way? In contrast, her dress was very casual, in no way impressive. It was old, she had bought it in a second-hand shop, and it showed, even though Esmeralda had washed and pressed it yesterday with some secret recipe of hers, which had given it a new shine.

He needed someone to be confident in their position as his wife, but Siobhan had yet to find a comfortable spot in her new life.

Angus picked her up in his arms and put her inside the helicopter.

Siobhan looked around impressed. She was expecting a luxurious helicopter but it was a flying palace. The cabin was spacious and could sit six passengers in big, cream leather seats with ample room for long legs such as Angus’s. And it could probably fit a dozen passengers more if not for the lounge with a bar and small kitchen, a lavatory, storage room, and who knows what else!

Once inside, he made sure she got the belt strapped and sat on the seat next to the other window, lowering the back of the seat between them which proved to double as a table.

“This looks like the Palace of Versailles.”

He smiled at her. “Hopefully, we won’t run into any Jacobins at fourteen thousand feet.”

“Don’t we need those helmets with headsets?” she asked when the co-pilot closed the door.

He smiled at her. “Not in these kinds of choppers.”

The helicopter lifted off the ground and she grabbed his arm as her stomach fought to catch up. “Are you okay?” he asked softly.

She took several deep breaths to fight the wave of nausea, giving him a weak smile in return. “Just—well, not a good thing to do while pregnant.”

He pushed up the table between them and moved to the seat next to hers. His arm wrapped around her and he pulled her against his warmth. “Forgive me. I did not think of your condition.”

This close, there was no avoiding his substantial physicality. The arm that brushed against hers was impressively muscled, and the body next to hers was big and hard—and warm as a coal fire.

She shook her head, his warmth helping calm her rattled body. “I’ll be fine in a moment.”

Even without being pregnant, she doubted she would ever get used to something like this. The helicopter flew out of the sun, yet Siobhan kept her eyes on Angus, who made for much more fetching scenery then the snow-peaked mountains and forests they flew over. And looking at him made the nausea recede, as if he was a rock in the pure silence, and he could transform the unsettling flight into nothing more than magically floating over the clouds.

His hand delved into his suit pocket and took out a tiny silver box. Opening it, he offered it to her with a sheepish smile.

She took a wafer candy, popping it into her mouth. “Thanks.”

Then he offered her the box itself. “I heard it’s worth keeping in your pocket to fight off the pregnancy cravings.”

She looked up, laughing. “For me or you?”

He touched her cheek, the warmth traveling to his eyes. “Both, perhaps.”

His thoughtfulness touched her and Siobhan sighed, leaning her head against his shoulder. There were times she wished he had just been a normal bloke so their two worlds didn’t feel as if they collided all the time.

After a while, her dis-ease at being in the air began to subside and her mood lightened. Suddenly, she sat up and fumbled around in her bag for her cell, punching in Jaxon’s number. He would be so jealous of what she was doing at the moment.

“Hello?”

“Jax,” she breathed. “Guess what I am doing?”

“Bathing in a sea of diamonds,” he laughed. “God only knows now. What?”

“I’m flying in a helo,” she answered. “And it’s fabulous.”

“Bitch,” he muttered. “I want one for my birthday, alright? Tell your fancy boyfriend that.”

“I love you, too,” she laughed, hanging up the phone. Her conversations with Jaxon, though brief, kept her grounded, reminding her of the person she used to be before Angus.

Angus felt Siobhan’s sadness before she could put the phone back in her purse. The excitement in her voice as she talked to her friend was something he was rarely witness to, something he craved from Siobhan.

“Jaxon wishes to have a helo for his birthday.”

Angus chuckled and squeezed her shoulders. “A helo. That’s a tall order.” She didn’t respond and though he knew she had more on her mind than simply missing her friend, at least that was something he could easily remedy. “Perhaps he can come and visit for a few weeks instead.”

She looked up and he was drawn into the depths of her eyes, the hopefulness on her face nearly taking his breath away. “Really?”

“Of course,” he said tightly. “Any friend of yours is a friend of mine.” And he would do his damnedest not to be jealous the entire time. He knew he had no more to fear from Jaxon than he did from her cat. But he was a man, after all, and Angus had trouble believing any man could fail to be attracted to her, foster-brother or not.

“Thank you,” she said softly, snuggling against him once more.

“My pleasure,” he hoped he could continue to please her, and not make her regret ever choosing him.