The Prince Who Charmed Her

He didn’t reply, and she remembered that. The frustrating habits of a man used to answering questions he felt inclined to and ignoring the rest. A prince with his own agenda unless it was for his family. Lucky him.

She stared straight ahead at the doors of the lift as if they’d magically open and she could float out to safety somewhere in the stairwell. She could feel his eyes on her.

‘Why are you on this ship anyway, Your Highness?’

She heard him sigh. ‘Do you call me that to annoy me?’

Now she glanced at him. Sugared her voice. ‘Is it working?’

He looked at her from under his own raised brows, and then in the ultimate retaliation he smiled. Blinded, she felt it rip open the wound she’d healed so diligently over the last months aboard ship. Blast, blast and double blast. She needed to get away.

She’d fallen in lust with him the first time she’d seen him. Only lust. Love wouldn’t have ended as it had.

Stefano had smiled at her then, as if they shared a secret, when she’d been late for her last surgical day in the operating theatres because of car trouble. He’d been a guest consultant of her boss, and should have chastised her like all the other consultants would have done, but instead he’d shown her surgical techniques she’d never thought to witness.

Later, he’d bought her coffee, plied her with cake to replace her missed breakfast, and invited her to ride home with him at the end of the day. When his hand had touched hers she’d been stunned like a landed fish, all big glassy eyes and floppy with desire.

And she knew where that had led.

The flicker of the number lights speeding upwards brought her back to the present and her sense of impending danger grew exponentially. This wasn’t sensible. Or safe. Though she wasn’t sure who she was more afraid of. Him or herself.

‘I don’t want to go anywhere with you.’

She thought for a moment she’d actually hurt him. There was just a flicker behind his eyes … But that was a joke. Instead he sighed as if she were a troublesome child, or probably just a troublesome subject.

‘I will not keep you long.’

‘Well, I know that.’

This time he did flinch. She saw it. Good, he felt guilty—even though he didn’t know how guilty he should feel. But she was tired of scoring points or second-guessing his intentions. She just wanted to forget she’d seen him again and re-grow the scar tissue so she could complete her healing.

When the lift stopped she planted her feet more solidly on the spot. He waited for her to pass him and when she didn’t lifted his hand to direct her. She stepped out of his way and back against the wall so fast his hand fell.

‘No.’ She licked dry lips. ‘Goodbye, Prince Stefano. Have a good life.’

There. She’d said it. What she hadn’t had a chance to say nine months ago. Now it was done. Finished.

Except he didn’t get out, and the silence lengthened.

Without direction from them the lift doors shut and the chamber began its descent to another level.

His voice was mild. Slightly amused. ‘So, are we to ride up and down in the lift all day until you wish to get out?’

She stepped further to the left of him. ‘Leave me alone, Stefano.’

He didn’t lift his hand again, but his voice reached out to her. She tried to imagine a soft ball of cotton wool jamming her ears to mute the sound—it didn’t work.

‘Is a few minutes of your time so much to ask? A chance to apologise, explain a little, and then we may part as friends—or less, if that is what you wish.’

She didn’t know how much more of this power struggle she could take before those damn tears she could feel prickling behind her eyes made their escape.

She could get out on another floor, stride away, and then spend the day dreading what could be over in a few minutes if she just faced it. Over and done with. Great theory, but what if it wasn’t? She still wasn’t sure who she trusted least.

The silence lengthened. The lift stopped and began to go down further. ‘For goodness’ sake. Must you get your own way in everything?’ She stepped forward and stabbed the light for the sixteenth floor. The little button rattled with the force. ‘Get it over with.’ The lift whooshed upwards again.

Stefano winced. This was not how he had expected it would turn out. A polite thank-you, a question as to whether she was well, an apology because he had had to leave so abruptly the last time they’d been together, and—most importantly—he would see that he was not as attracted to the flesh and blood woman as his imagination had assured him. Then he could move on to his duty.

In fact, to his discomfort, the desire for Kiki back in his arms, and most assuredly in his bed, was growing stronger by the second.

Perhaps he should have stepped out of the lift on his own after all. But how was that going to help his predicament?

The lift doors opened again and he extended his arm against the doors to hold them. ‘After you.’

‘Are you? Not again, I hope,’ she muttered, and he had to bite back the smile.

This was the woman who had captured his attention over that long-ago week. With her tiny rebellions that always startled him out of his self-assurance, the rapier wit that amused him with its irreverence, the unpredictability of Kiki with the crazy name and so alluring body.

He was in trouble. But, then again, so was she.

CHAPTER THREE

KIKI PRECEDED HIM into the suite and glanced around. Very grand. Split level. She hadn’t noticed much yesterday—too many other things had been going on. Like a woman critical with shock. Like Stefano reappearing beside her. Like a hundred memories she didn’t want to remember.

She kept her back to him. ‘Must be cosy, sharing with a married couple.’

‘Their suite is very similar. Next door.’ Kiki could hear the smile in his voice. The lock clicked. ‘This is mine.’

Why did she feel there was emphasis on ‘mine’? She squared her shoulders and faced him. Why did he have to look so damned amazing. ‘So let’s have our little conversation and then I’d like to leave.’

He ignored that. The ignoring thing again. He prowled over to the drinks cabinet. Turned to face her and asked mildly, as if they did this every day, ‘Would you like something to drink?’

No, but she wouldn’t mind something in her hand she could fiddle with—or throw in defence.

Kiki circled the plush sofa and sat on an upright armchair. ‘Thank you. Soda water.’

He smiled. ‘You were always so confident.’

She ground her teeth. ‘Until I met you and thought the sun shone out of your tailbone.’

Of course he ignored that too. ‘You always had fire when roused.’ They both heard the echo of a similar word. Was that aroused?

He held out her drink and she took it carefully, so as not to touch his hand. Again his gaze met hers and she looked away. Knew his gaze never left her face. She could tell even with her fierce concentration on her glass.

His voice drifted over her like a wraith, encircling her, pulling tighter. ‘But still there is more. Yesterday you were incredibly efficient. Practised. Calm. Capable. All things I knew you would be.’

She didn’t want to hear this. She wanted out. ‘Why don’t you cut to the chase, Stefano? Why are you here on this ship?’ And, more to the point, ‘Why am I here in your suite?’

He stepped closer. ‘The truth?’