The Prince's Chambermaid(12)

Subduing the aching response to his thoughts, he raised his black eyebrows. 'Ready?'

Although she registered the fact that it wasn't the most affectionate of  greetings, Cathy's smile was nonetheless wide and genuine-because  hadn't she been dreading that he might have had second thoughts and  changed his mind about taking her out? But no, he was here to take her  to some fancy polo-club do and it hadn't been some kind of wild and  crazy dream, after all. Prince Xaviero of Zaffirinthos really had taken  her bed and then announced that she was to be a royal mistress and he  was to instruct her in the things which pleased him!                       
       
           



       

Could she have said no?

She thought of his cold-blooded reasoning. That way, we can call it  quits. In view of that, then shouldn't she have said no? But the truth  of the matter was that her heart felt a bursting kind of happiness that  he was here at all-and wasn't her body eager for more of his expert  touch?

She looked up at him uncertainly, fingers fluttering over the black  dress which skimmed her hips. 'Is this … okay? They say you can't go wrong  with black but I wasn't sure if it would be suitable for a polo club?  You see, well-I've … well, I've never actually been to one before.'

Golden eyes swept over her. The dress was unremarkable-a cheap creation  which neither emphasised nor concealed her figure, while the glorious  sun-ripe hair was tied back in some sort of ribbon. But at least she had  heeded his words about not plastering her face with make up-the  lightest touch of mascara and lipstick now emphasised her subtle beauty  rather than parodying it.

'The dress is fine-although in future I may buy you dresses more  pleasing to the eye. But there is one thing about your appearance which  jars.' He walked towards her and, without warning, reached for the band  which constrained her hair, slithering it off with an impatient jerk so  that her hair tumbled wildly all over her shoulders. For a moment, he  stared down into aquamarine eyes so wide and so deep that he felt as if  he might drown in them. 'Don't ever wear your hair like that when you're  with me,' he said unevenly. 'I like it loose. Understand?'

Cathy felt the tendrils falling around her face, acknowledging the dark  mastery of his command even while a squeak of protest demanded to make  itself heard. It was outrageous that he should come out with something  as old-fashioned and bossy as that, she thought weakly. Prince he might  be, but did he have the right to speak to her in that way?

'Understand?' he repeated.

Yet, dazed by his proximity and the sensual recall of his touch, all she could do was nod. 'Yes,' she whispered.

For a moment the sight of her wide eyes and trembling lips tempted him  into ringing up the club and telling them he'd changed his mind. But  something was stopping him and he wasn't sure what it was. Perhaps the  faint air of insecurity about her which, infuriatingly, made him feel  that he ought to spoil her. Take her out and give her a taste of the  high life-as if in that way he could repay her for what he had already  taken and would later take from her again.

His mouth hardened, because the last thing he wanted to feel was any  kind of conscience about her. She had wanted him just as badly-and every  woman had to lose her virginity some day. So why not lose it to the  best? 'My car is parked at the end of the lane,' he said.

It felt odd to be walking down a dusty summer lane with the golden-eyed  Prince and odder still to remember what had taken place between them.  Cathy was conscious of the chauffeur's curious looks as he held the door  open for her. Was he wondering what the Prince was playing at? Or maybe  this was the kind of thing he did all the time and she was only one in a  long series of women who had climbed so meekly into the back of the  luxury limousine.

That thought sat uncomfortably with her and she waited for-and  wanted-Xaviero to take her in his arms once they were enclosed within  the tinted luxury of the car. To blot out all her misgivings with the  power of his kiss. But he didn't. Instead, he simply leaned back against  the soft leather seat, his long legs spread out in front of him while  he surveyed her from between the narrowed golden eyes.

'Your house is not what I was … expecting,' he observed slowly.

It sounded more like a question than a compliment and Cathy knew exactly what he meant. 'On a chambermaid's salary, you mean?'

He shrugged. 'How the hell should I know? I have no idea what chambermaids earn.'

No, of course he wouldn't. Princes didn't draw salaries like ordinary  folk, did they? What must it be like to exist inside a great, privileged  bubble which separated you from the rest of the world? she wondered.  'My great-aunt left it to me. She brought me up when my parents died.  It's … ' Her words trailed off. Wasn't he, as the Prince, supposed to  initiate all conversation-so maybe that meant just answering his  questions and not bothering to elaborate on them. She clamped her lips  shut.

'It's what?'

'You aren't really interested.'

He felt a mixture of amusement and irritation. 'Oh, aren't I?' he  questioned silkily. 'One session of sex and already you can predict what  I'm thinking? I know that all women like to think they're  mind-readers-but that really must be breaking some kind of record.'                       
       
           



       

Cathy blushed. How cynical. How hard-bitten. What had he said? One  session of sex. It was a hateful way to describe what had happened  between them.

'The cottage is one of the reasons I stay round here-well, the garden  mainly,' she said stiffly. 'I can't imagine ever finding anywhere else  as beautiful. And … well, gardening's my hobby-though it always sounds so  tame when someone my age admits that they like it.'

'Or elemental,' he amended surprisingly. 'Some people might consider it  sexy to think of a woman bending over a flowerbed, with mud on her  hands.'

'Really?' she questioned, not believing him.

'Yes, really.' Hearing the wooden quality of her tone, Xaviero studied  the way her little teeth were digging into the cushioned curve of her  lower lip, and he smiled. 'You look disappointed,' he murmured. 'Are you  wondering why I haven't yet kissed you?'

'Not at all,' she lied.

He laughed. 'Ah, but you must learn not to blush when you tell an untruth,' he murmured and saw her colour deepen even more.

'I wasn't-'

'Yes, you were. There should be few secrets between lovers. If you're  wondering why I haven't yet kissed you, can't you think of a reason why  that might be?'

Like the class dunce who had been unexpectedly picked out to answer a  question by the teacher, Cathy was eager to please. 'Because you don't  want your driver to see us?'

Xaviero clicked his tongue. How very mundane of her-but then what could  he expect? She was a very ordinary woman. Impatiently, he shook his  head. 'You think I would leave that to chance?' he mocked. 'The back of  the car is completely soundproofed so the driver hears nothing. At the  touch of a button, blinds will float down over all the windows,  concealing us from the prying eyes of the outside world. Why, I could  make love to you now and nobody but us would know.'

'Oh,' said Cathy, aware of an aching feeling of disappointment.

His impatience fled as he registered her unashamed frustration. 'Yes, I  know. You want it and I want it, but it will be a rushed encounter-and  what is more, we will both arrive at the club in a state of disarray  which will not be particularly good for my reputation.'

And what about mine? Cathy wanted to ask. 'Oh, I see.'

'No, I don't think you do.' He reached over to take a silken lock of  hair between thumb and forefinger and twisted it. 'The sexual appetite  is like any other, Cathy-its needs are many and must be tempered  accordingly. Sometimes-like what happened between us today-the hunger is  fierce and urgent and must be instantly assuaged. And at other times,  well-the anticipation of the feast to come sharpens the taste buds and  heightens the pleasure.' His eyes gleamed. 'This evening may be  tedious-as so many of these functions are-but rather than sinking into  the torpor of that tedium, I shall instead allow my senses to tingle  with the thought of just what I am going to do with you later.'

Cathy's mouth dried-partly with desire and partly with shock as she  registered his arrogant statement. Just what I am going to do with you  later. Why, he made her sound so malleable! 'That's if I let you,' she  retorted.

Xaviero tensed and then gave a slow smile. 'Oh, you'll let me,' he vowed  softly. 'Now come over here and kiss me, little chambermaid.'

'But I thought-'

'Mistresses aren't required to think-their talents are of a far more  practical nature,' he amended silkily. 'So come over here. Now. And kiss  me.'

For a moment Cathy sat there. His words made her feel more like a doll  than a person and she suddenly realised that this man could easily hurt  her. So wouldn't it be sensible to get out now-before it was too late?  She could feel his eyes on her-that distinctive golden gaze raking over  her. He was sprawled back against the seat, eyeing her with lazy  amusement as if sensing her inner struggle.