A Throne for the Taking by Kate Walker Page A

give her a breathing space—a short, barely tolerable breathing space. But the ruthless, cold determination stamped on his face told her that was all she would get. And it would be only the barest minimum of time that he would allow her.
    ‘Well, that’s a relief!’ Shock and horror made her voice rigid and cold as she fought against showing the real depth of her feelings. Her shoulders were so tight that they hurt and her mouth ached with the control she was imposing on it. ‘Do you expect me to thank you?’
    ‘No more than you should expect me to thank you for cooperating in this.’
    ‘I haven’t said yet that I will cooperate!’
    ‘But you will.’ It was coldly, cruelly confident. No room for argument or doubt. ‘And you have to admit that we have far more between us than you would ever have had with Ivan.’
    ‘I— No!’
    She didn’t know how she had managed to sit still so long. She only knew that she couldn’t do it now. She pushed herself to her feet, up and away from him. From his oppressive closeness, the dangerous warmth of his hard, lean frame, the disturbing scent of his skin that tantalised her senses. She wanted to go further—so much further—but in the cabin there wasn’t enough space to run and hide. And at the same time her need to get away warred with a sensual compulsion to turn back into his atmosphere, to throw herself close against him and recapture that wild enticement that had swamped her totally on the previous night.
    ‘Sit down!’
    It was pure command, harsh and autocratic, flung at her so hard that she almost felt the words hit her in the back.
    It took all her control to turn and face him, bringing her chin up in defiance so as not to let him see the turmoil she was feeling.
    ‘What’s this then, Alexei? Practising for when you’re king?’
    His scowl was dark and dangerous, making her shift uncomfortably where she stood, the movement aggravated by the lurch of the aircraft so that she almost lost her footing. Stubbornly she refused to reach out and grab the back of the nearest seat for support, however much she needed it.
    ‘According to you, I will need all the practice I can get,’ he shot back, the ice in his tone taking the temperature in the cabin down ten degrees or more. ‘A commoner jumped up from the gutter, with no true nobility to speak of.’
    ‘That was Ivan, not me!’ Ria protested.
    ‘Ivan—your prospective husband.’
    She knew he was watching for her instinctive shudder but all the same she couldn’t hold it back in spite of knowing how much she was giving away.
    ‘But there is some truth in there—so there’s another reason why this marriage will work out,’ Alexei continued coldly. ‘I can give you the status and the fortune you want...’
    Ria opened her mouth in a rush, needing to tell him that she didn’t want either. But a swift, brutal glare stopped her mid-breath.
    ‘And you—well you can be the civilising influence I need. You can teach me how to handle the court procedures—the etiquette I’ll need to function as king.’
    He almost sounded as if he meant it. Was it possible? Could he really be feeling a touch of insecurity here—and being prepared to admit to it? There was no way it seemed possible. But that twist to his mouth tugged on something deep inside her.
    ‘But you grew up at court—for some years at least. You must have learned...’
    ‘The basics, perhaps. But most of it I have forgotten. I didn’t exactly see any use for it in the life I’m living now. And, as your father was so determined to point out, I was never really civilised.’ The bite of acid in the words seemed to sear into Ria’s skin, making her rub her hands down her arms to ease the burning sensation. ‘Not quite blue-blooded enough.’
    ‘Well, I’m sure you’ll remember it quickly—without any help from me.’
    ‘Ah, but I’m sure I’ll pick it up faster with you at my side—as my partner and consort. My wife.’
    ‘I won’t do