“Shut up.” He caught her face in his hands, and she saw by his eyes he was anything but calm. “I thought the woman I first fell in love with was an illusion.” He gentled as he brushed his lips over her cheeks. “I was wrong, because she’s right here. There was another woman who made my mouth dry every time I looked.” His kisses were more urgent now, more possessive. “She’s here as well. It’s not every man who can love two women and have them both. And I will have you, Hannah.”

“You already have me.” She was almost ready to believe it could be real, and true and lasting. “But even you can’t command a marriage.”

He lifted his brow, arrogant, confident. “Don’t be too sure. You told me once you wanted me. Was it a lie?”

“No.” She steadied herself with two hands on his chest. She was crossing a line in her life, one that allowed for no deceptions. He was offering her a chance to be herself, to love openly and honestly. “No, it wasn’t a lie.”

“I ask you now if you love me.”

She couldn’t speak. From deep within the palace the clock began to strike. Midnight. She counted off the gongs and waited for the illusion to fade. Then there was silence and she was still in his arms. Looking down, she saw the ring glow against her finger. A promise. A lifetime.

“I love you, and nothing’s ever been more true.”

“Share my home.” He caught her ring hand in his and pressed his lips to the palm.

“Yes.”

“And my family.”

She twined her fingers with his. “Yes.”

“And my duty.”

“From this moment.”

She wrapped her arms around him. She lifted her face for his kiss. Below and as far as eyes could see, Cordina spread out before them and prepared to sleep.

If you liked The Playboy Prince, look for the other novels in the Cordina’s Royal Family series: Affaire Royale, Command Performance, and Cordina’s Crown Jewel, available as eBooks from InterMix.

Excerpt from The Witness

Keep reading for an excerpt from

the newest novel by Nora Roberts

The Witness

Available April 2012 in hardcover from G. P. Putnam’s Sons

June 2000

Elizabeth Fitch’s short-lived teenage rebellion began with L’Oreal Pure Black, a pair of scissors and a fake ID. It ended in blood.

For nearly the whole of her sixteen years, eight months and twenty-one days she’d dutifully followed her mother’s directives. Dr. Susan L. Fitch issued directives, not orders. Elizabeth had adhered to the schedules her mother created, ate the meals designed by her mother’s nutritionist and prepared by her mother’s cook, wore the clothes selected by her mother’s personal shopper.