Sensing his interest, she turned to look at him, but almost immediately turned away again. Her chin was firm and her mouth set in a determined line. She was gaining in confidence every hour under his mother’s expert tutelage, to the point where tonight she might have been the princess and Anastasia the impostor. The king was clearly enchanted by her, his mother, too, and only he remained to be convinced. And yet it pleased him to see how well she conducted herself under the most shameless barrage of patronising remarks he’d ever heard from Anastasia. The woman had no class at all. The only reason he hadn’t stepped in to defend Carrie was because she had given him one of her looks, warning him to keep out of it. After that, he had to admit he had rather enjoyed watching her parry and thrust as if she had been schooled for years in repartee. She had behaved with all the dignity and restraint of a woman to be admired, a woman who knew her own mind and would defend her own corner to the last…A woman who would defend her children with everything she had…
With a frown of impatience he looked away. Whether or not Carrie made a good mother was no concern of his.
But one thing was certain: this wasn’t for him. He shifted restlessly in his gilded chair. He’d sat down long enough. The stifling restrictions at court took his mind back to his reasons for leaving Niroli in the first place. But he had no intention of leaving the island until he had settled all outstanding issues. Only then could he give the king his final answer.
Standing up, he bowed first to his grandfather and then to his mother. ‘Carrie…I believe you wanted to speak to me?’
The silence at the table was complete as Carrie, having curtsied prettily, came round the table to him. He felt a surge of triumph at her quick compliance after her rebellion the previous night, but he masked it as he murmured politely to his mother, wisely avoiding her perceptive gaze.
‘I’m glad you took the hint,’ he said to Carrie, easing his shoulders as the footmen closed the doors behind them. ‘I couldn’t have stood another minute of that woman’s company.’
He had to be referring to Anastasia, Carrie realised, but was that a sop to her feelings, Nico’s way of opening negotiations and encouraging her to lower her guard? She had no intention of lowering it, but outright conflict wasn’t the way to win with Nico, so she would seize the opportunity he’d given her to talk to him in private.
As Nico matched his stride to her much shorter one Carrie thought he had never looked more handsome, or more desirable. She could feel the tension between them that had always led to passion in the past. And now she noticed a scar at one corner of his mouth. Why had she never noticed that before? What else had she missed? The scar only added to the impression of a hard man trapped in a world of cloying ceremony. But for how much longer? Did Nico seriously intend to accept the throne?
‘We’ll go straight to my apartment,’ he said, heading in that direction.
He had taken it for granted she would follow him. Her words last night might never have been spoken. He found it inconceivable that she could hold out against him, and believed everything was back to normal now. Why shouldn’t he think that? She had left the banquet promptly at his signal, and now she could read his intentions perfectly: Nico was impatient; Nico wanted exercise, and not just to stretch his limbs or his intellect; Nico wanted sex. She was on hand, she was available, and time was wasting…
‘Well?’ he said, stopping mid-stride. ‘What’s wrong? Why are you holding back?’
‘I thought perhaps the library…’ She glanced away from him across the hall.
‘The library?’ He frowned.
‘I’d like a coffee…Or tea, if you’d prefer.’ She held his gaze steadily, hardly daring to breathe.
‘I thought you wanted to talk to me in private?’
It was a code between them. His hard mouth had softened in a way that she knew so well. ‘While everyone’s at dinner, the library should be empty, don’t you think?’ She watched a muscle work in his jaw, and knew she’d made him angry. For one nerve-wrenching moment she was sure he was going to turn on his heel and walk away from her, but then he inclined his head abruptly in a gesture that invited her to lead the way.
Her heart was pounding as she walked into the library. Resisting Nico never got any easier, but she had to stay strong or each time she weakened he would tighten his control over her, and she wanted more for her baby than a mother who provided extra services for her boss. She loved Nico with all her heart, but, however much it hurt her to admit it, it was the love of good sex that fuelled his interest in her. Plus Nico was attracted to anything different from the norm, and she was the surprise beneath the plain brown paper wrapping, the mouse no one suspected of being a tigress in his bed. She was the perfect mistress, in fact, the woman who was interested in no other man.