Weight of the Crown by Christina Hollis Page A

was so brave. When he’d held her in his arms the other night, it had aroused an urgency within his body that was completely foreign to him. And as for kissing her … well, that was something else … Lysander forced himself to push thoughts like that to the back of his mind. He liked to retain control of his body and emotions at all times. He only had to think about his brother’s disastrous love affair to see what happened when a man let his heart rule his head. But Lysander had started leaving his common sense behind whenever he thought of Alyssa. She stirred primitive feelings in him, and they couldn’t be ignored. Seeing her looking so vulnerable in his bed, he had been overcome in a shocking way by the urge to possess her fragile beauty.
    He was still for so long, Ra’id stopped chewing the end of his crayon and looked up from his colouring book.
    ‘Is Alyssa all right, Uncle Ly?’
    ‘Oh, yes.’ He nodded, although his face was grave. ‘She’s perfect.’
    And that’s dangerous,
he thought.

CHAPTER FOUR
    A LYSSA stretched out luxuriantly, still hazy from the dream she’d just had. Opening her eyes, she lurched back to reality. This was Lysander’s bed, and she was still in his cabin on-board his private plane. Only the touch of his lips had been a dream. The wonderful, guilty feeling of being held in his arms slipped away as she woke fully, leaving her alone again. It wasn’t his pulse she could feel purring through the length of her body, but the soft vibration of aircraft engines.
    That was enough to get her moving. She wished she could enjoy Lysander’s own private space, but the sensation of being in a plane played on her nerves. She needed distraction, and was about to get up when sounds of soft movement came from outside the bedroom. She froze. Without knowing why, she shut her eyes again and rolled onto her side with her back to the door. There was something about being found awake in this room that felt all wrong, and her only defence was to play possum. Whoever was coming to investigate was bound to let her sleep on. That would be less embarrassing all round.
    She heard the cabin door brush over the thick carpet as it was pushed open. She expected her visitor,whoever it was, to retreat after a quick peek. Forcing herself to breathe slowly despite her pounding heartbeat, she waited to hear it close again. It didn’t happen. Instead, muffled footsteps crossed the room to her bedside. Despite straining her ears she hardly heard a sound, but there was a definite presence very near to her. She felt it grow closer as someone leaned over her—and she inhaled the clean fresh scent of Lysander’s aftershave. It gave her such a lift she let her eyelashes part a fraction. When she saw the pale shape of his hand drifting towards her cheek she drew in a long lingering breath, waiting for his touch.
    It never came. His hand hovered beside her face, then moved down to linger over her shoulder. He was almost touching her—but his fingertips never quite connected with her body. The suspense stroked an exquisite glow over her skin. Then she saw his fingers clench. Abruptly, he pulled his hand out of her restricted field of view. Her heart sinking, she waited for him to vanish and quietly close the door on her fantasy.
    When he slammed it with enough force to demolish the place, Alyssa didn’t have to pretend to jump—she did it naturally. She sat up sharply in the bed, then remembered she should be half asleep. Rubbing her eyes, she pretended to be confused. Lysander was standing in the doorway, looking carefully at everything else in the cabin, but not her. Alyssa was glad she wasn’t the focus of his attention. It meant she didn’t have to meet his eyes.
    ‘Come on, Goldilocks, it’s time to get out of my bed. Alyssa!’ he called across the room.
    Oh, why couldn’t you have thought of Sleeping
Beauty instead?
she thought, but deep down she knew. It was the same reason why he hadn’t shaken her