Innocent Surrender: The Virgin's Proposition / The Virgin and His Majesty / Untouched Until Marriage

Then she squared her slender shoulders, shifted the backpack slightly, picked up the suitcase, and marched back up the dock toward La Croisette.

Demetrios stared after her, unmoving, while his brain whirled with fifty thousand sane reasons to turn around and start getting the boat ready to sail.

But not one of them was proof against the fear of what could happen to her if he did.

Damn it!

“Anny!” He vaulted out of the cockpit, then scrambled off the boat onto the dock. “Where are you going?”

A small figure halfway down the dock turned back. She shrugged. “I don’t know yet.”

She didn’t sound as if it mattered.

Demetrios knew it did. His stomach clenched. Scowling now, annoyed that she could be so blasé about something that important, he stalked down the dock after her. “What do you mean, you don’t know?”

He knew the hard edge to his voice made her eyes widen, but she didn’t shrink away from him.

She simply set the suitcase down and faced him. “Exactly what I said. I haven’t a clue. I just need to go somewhere Papa won’t expect me to be. He’ll look in all the places, the likely places,” she allowed. “So I’ll just go someplace else. It’s not like I made plans, you know.”

He knew. And he didn’t like it one bit. She was a young woman alone. Kind, trusting. Not to mention rich—and a princess, besides. She’d be prey for more unsavory characters than he wanted to think about.

“I thought I might hitchhike,” she said blithely in the face of his ominous silence.

“Hitchhike!” He spat the word, furious.

She burst out laughing. “I’m not going to hitchhike, Demetrios,” she assured him. “I was joking. You looked so intense. I’ll be fine. Don’t get so worked up.”

“I’m not worked up!” He was very calmly going to strangle her.

She was still smiling. “Right. Okay. You’re not worked up.” She gave him a sideways assessing look. Then she tried more reassurance. “You don’t need to worry. You are worrying,” she pointed out in case he hadn’t noticed.

“Because you’re acting like an idiot! You don’t just pack up and head out at the drop of a hat. You need plans. A place to go. Bodyguards!”

She blinked. “Bodyguards?”

“You’re a princess!”

“I haven’t had a bodyguard since I left university. I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.” She smiled again. It was a regal smile. It made Demetrios’s teeth ache they were grinding together so hard.

“But thank you for your concern,” she added, in that proper bloody well-brought-up royal tone of voice she could put on when she wanted to. Then, as if he were some mere peasant she’d just dismissed, she picked up the suitcase and started away again.

Demetrios muttered something unprintable under his breath, then stalked after her and grabbed her by the arm, hauling her to a stop. “Then you’re coming with me.”

Her head whipped around. She stared at him, eyes wide, mouth agape. “With you? To Greece?”

“Why not?” he demanded. “You don’t have a plan of your own. You can’t just wander around Europe. It’s not safe.”

“I’m not a fool, Demetrios. I went to Oxford by myself. I went to Berkeley!”

“With watchdogs,” he reminded her.

“I was young then. Almost a child. I’m not a child now.”

“No. You’re a raving beauty and any man with hormones can see that!”

“I meant I’m not going to be anyone’s prey.”

“Right. You’re big and strong and tough. That’s why I practically kidnapped you right in the middle of a hotel lobby!”

“You did not!”

“I walked off with you!”

“Because I let you. I knew who you were. I could have screamed,” she told him haughtily.

He snorted. “Everyone would have thought you were an overexcited fan.”

“I can take care of myself. I don’t get into cars with strangers. I don’t make foolish decisions.”

“Really?” He gave her a sardonic look. “You were going to marry Gerard. You propositioned me. You went to bed with me.”

She glared at him. “Up until now, I didn’t consider that a foolish decision.”

“Think again.” He dragged a hand through his hair. “Look. You’re a damned appealing woman, princess. You swept me off my feet, didn’t you?” he said.

She made a face at him. “I promise you, you were the one and only. Besides, I’ve got my memories now.”

He didn’t let himself think about that. “What if someone else wants a few of his own? If anything happens to you out in the big bad world, it will be my fault!”

“Don’t be ridiculous. You have an outrageous sense of your own importance. What I do is my responsibility, not yours.”

“But you owe it to me,” he reminded her. “You said you did. That’s what you came down here for—to thank me!”

Anny folded her arms across her breasts and glowered at him. “Obviously a mistake. So much for etiquette.”

“Next time don’t be so damn polite.” He picked up her suitcase, then hung on determinedly as she tried to grab it out of his hand. “This is going to look great on all the paparazzi shots,” he reminded her silkily.

Abruptly, she let go and glanced around, looking hunted, then annoyed. “There are no photographers!”

He shrugged, unrepentant. “There could be. You want them following you all over Europe? Bet Papa can ask them where you’re hiding.” He gave her a mocking look over his shoulder and kept walking.

For a long moment he was afraid she’d just let him go off with her suitcase while she went in the other direction. But finally he heard her footsteps coming after him.

“This is insane,” she told him. “You don’t want me with you.”

“More than I want you dead in the gutter.” He heard the explosion of breath that meant she was gearing up for another round, so he turned and forestalled her. “Look, blame it on my mother. It wouldn’t matter if it was really my fault or not, I’d think it was. She’d think it was.”

“You’d tell her?”