Increasing the pace of his stride, he took a short cut through the covered walkway leading to the private apartments. He grew angrier as he reviewed his conversation with the king. His grandfather had offered him the kingdom of Niroli as if it were the winning ticket in a lottery. Nico Fierezza, King of Niroli? He had never heard anything so ridiculous in his life. The idea of living at court had never appealed to him. He would rather take a swim in a sea of sharks than become the ruler of a kingdom surrounded by sycophants.
His grandfather’s offer had only proved the king didn’t know him at all. What was he supposed to do? Land on the island, grab a crown and cheer? He had a life and people who depended on him away from Niroli. There wasn’t a chance he was going to leave the team who worked with him in the lurch in order to accept the crown.
But his grandfather was old and ailing, and he couldn’t turn his dearest wish down flat. And so he had agreed to withhold his final answer for a day or two, though his decision was already made. He would find a way to break the news gently to his grandfather in spite of the fact that delay went against everything he believed in.
And then there was the Princess Anastasia, the lure by which his grandfather had thought to tempt him to take the throne. She was beautiful enough, but not for him. Nico preferred his women without adornment, and his sense of humour had suffered a severe malfunction when he had found himself tricked into a lunch date with the overdressed princess. As gaudy as the pennants flying in her honour, Princess Anastasia was about as subtle in her intentions towards him as a bitch in heat.
And now there was a state dinner to sit through, which was also being held in her honour. To soften the harder blow yet to come he had agreed with his grandfather that he would partner the princess, and she was waiting for him now, no doubt sporting half a ton of diamonds.
He wasn’t exactly dressed down, himself, Nico conceded, easing his neck beneath the stiff winged collar. A state dinner required him to wear full regalia, and so he was wearing the official uniform he kept at the palace, complete with the sash that marked him out as a grandson of the king. The formality irked him, but it wouldn’t hurt him to follow tradition for one night.
And he could hardly wear jeans…
Nico’s lips curved briefly in amusement, but quickly flattened again. He had just entered the courtyard leading to the guest suite where Princess Anastasia was staying when he spotted the intruder. Some ragamuffin was sitting on the lip of the fountain dabbling her feet in the pool. ‘This area is closed to the public—’ He froze as she turned around.
‘Carrie…’ The shock hit him like a blow in the chest. What was his secretary doing here? ‘Carrie? Answer me.’ He was beginning to feel irritated. He hadn’t seen her for…how long? And she just turned up like this? Where had she been? What had happened to her? She had disappeared with no explanation at all. She hadn’t warned him, or worked her notice, or even troubled to send him a letter of resignation. Everyone in the office had missed her. He’d missed her. ‘Carrie, speak to me…’
As she stared at him events played fast forward behind his eyes. The night of the party…the devil on his back…his frustration at being forced to stand around making small talk…his gaze settling on Carrie…seeing her looking as uncomfortable as he felt and not half as good as he was at hiding it…He’d wanted to save her embarrassment and had ended up giving way to an urge that had been nagging at him since the first day they’d met. And he’d been surprised by her response—make that amazed. He’d always thought her a mouse, maybe because she had been such a calming influence in the office, going quietly about her duties, making no fuss. He had appreciated her for those very qualities, but that night had completely changed his perception of her.
‘Carrie, what’s wrong with you? Answer me…’ A rush of concern propelled him towards her, but then caution held him back. She looked tired, but today he was a prince and this was Niroli, and Carrie Evans was his secretary, or she had been once.
‘Why are you here?’ His surprise was replaced by suspicion as he ran through the possibilities in his mind. She’d come a long way to find him. Why? He’d never made her any promises. They’d been together one time, and that had been for sex. They both knew it. It could never be anything more and she’d been fine with it at the time.
She couldn’t breathe. Had she really imagined she was ready for this? The passion in Nico’s eyes reminded her of hot, steamy sex; he’d worn that same fierce, intent look then. She found him doubly intimidating dressed as a prince…doubly attractive because he was fresh from the shower, his hair still damply curling, his face already starting to darken with stubble. His cheekbones appeared carved in flint above his unforgiving mouth. How she longed to soften it….