The Prince's Chambermaid(16)

'Oh, it is,' he agreed evenly, because he knew exactly what she was  doing. She wanted him to say that he would take her there. Was she  building little fantasies about visiting the magnificent palace,  perhaps-mistakenly imagining that she might have some place there? In  which case, she should be very careful not to confuse fantasy with  reality.

'But you know, of course, that I can never take you there,' he said softly, and, reaching out, he pulled her down onto his lap.

On one level, of course she had known that-but on another, she had  hoped … Cathy bit her lip. She had hoped for what every woman in her  situation would hope for-no matter how foolish that hope. And why had he  made that completely unnecessary statement, which necessitated her  asking a question she didn't really want to ask? Suddenly, she found  herself on the defensive.

'Why not?'

He lifted her chin with the tip of his finger. 'Because my people would  never accept me openly flaunting a lover there. They are less accepting  of modern sexual manners than you are here.'

'They would look down on me, I suppose?' she questioned shakily.

'Cathy,' he appealed. 'Don't do this.'

'Because, of course, it's always the woman who takes the blame, isn't  it? They would never dare to think that their darling Prince might have  something to do with it.'

'That,' he said warningly, 'is enough.'

Her lips were trembling. 'All right, it's enough. And actually, I'm pretty bored with the subject myself!'

'Well, you're the one who brought it up.'

'And you're the one who spoilt it.'

'Are you aware,' he questioned silkily, 'that if you spoke to me in such  a way in the presence of others you could be accused of gross  insubordination?'

Pull yourself together, Cathy told herself fiercely, banishing her  foolish longings and pressing her lips hungrily to the base of his  throat instead. 'You could-but only if I were your subject,' she  objected as she inhaled his raw, masculine scent. 'Which, of course, I'm  not.'

As he laughed Xaviero felt his irritation dissolve, acknowledging that  her native intelligence was surprising. And in a curious way she could  have almost held her own when compared with other women he had  bedded-all of them more high-born than her.

He had slept with heiresses whose own fortune could almost have matched  his and he had slept with supermodels whose rangy bodies and exquisite  features had graced countless glossy magazines.                       
       
           



       

Once, he had even dated an Oscar-winning English actress and had watched  from his hotel suite while she had tearfully-and rather  embarrassingly-accepted the award and dedicated it to 'the only man I  have ever loved. The other man with the golden eyes.' The press had gone  crazy when they had worked out just who she was referring to. Later  that night, they had made love beneath the metallic gaze of the  statuette and a week later he had told her it was over-that public  declarations of love had never been on the agenda.

But, out of all those confident and accomplished women, none had spoken  to him with quite the same sunny simplicity as Cathy. It perplexed  him-and he was not a man who did perplexity. Was it because her whole  life had been spent in service that she seemed totally without guile or  expectation? Or was it because she had been a virgin, and he had taken  her innocence that she was so eager to be moulded by him?

He could see her looking at him questioningly, and he stroked at her  silken hair. 'Who'd have thought,' he murmured, 'that a couple of weeks  of intensive sexual tuition could make a humble little chambermaid such a  perfect partner in bed?'

Cathy's smile didn't slip. She told herself not to react. That he  probably wasn't intending to insult her. To concentrate instead on the  way he made her feel when his fingers were stroking sweet enchantment  over her skin. Anyway, perhaps he couldn't help it-maybe that arrogance  was inbuilt and part of his unique royal make-up. Maybe princes from  Zaffirinthos were expected to be arrogant. Far better to accept him for  who he was and not try to change him. Why spoil what was never intended  to be anything other than a brief, beautiful liaison? 'Who'd have  thought it?' she agreed.

'So how do you do it?' he persisted.

'Oh, Xaviero-'

'No, I'm interested. It's more than a learning of sexual  technique-though you are a surprisingly fast learner and a very  satisfactory pupil. What's your secret, Cathy? Did you back up your  practical skills with a little theory? Maybe you quietly read up one of  those self-help books which advise women on the most effective way to  deal with a powerful man?'

Leaning on her elbow, she looked at him. His arrogance was  breathtaking-but sometimes even he overstepped the mark. Yet what could  she say? Wouldn't he laugh in her face if she told him that her  'secret'-if that was what you could call it-was that she had schooled  herself to forget that he was a prince? That at least in his arms she  could pretend that he was the uncomplicated flirty man in denim she'd  been so powerfully attracted to-the man with the golden eyes. And maybe  he would take it the wrong way-because he wasn't that man, was he? Not  really.

'Actually, no-I haven't. Those books aren't really directed at chambermaids,' she answered, deadpan.

'No. I don't suppose they are.' He surveyed her thoughtfully, and  realised he couldn't keep putting off the inevitable. 'You know, I've  been thinking … do you want me to help you find some other kind of job?  Something different to do when … '

Cathy stilled as his words trailed off, the unusual hesitation alerting her to trouble. 'When … what, Xaviero?'

His eyes narrowed as he watched her, sizing up her reaction and preparing for tears, maybe hysteria. 'When all this is over.'

The silence grew like a gathering storm cloud while Cathy tried to  dampen down the terrible feeling of fear which was clutching at her  heart. Telling herself that she had known this was coming. It was just  she hadn't been expecting it. Not now. Not yet.

'And … and is it all over?' she managed at last.

Xaviero relaxed a little. No tears. That was good. 'Not yet. But soon,'  he murmured as he kissed the curving line of her jaw. 'Probably sooner  than I thought.'

'Oh.'

'You've known all along that I've been planning to go to South America for the winter to look at horses?'

'Yes, of course,' answered Cathy, marvelling at the way she could make  her voice sound so bright when inside her heart felt as if it were  breaking in two.

'Well, a stallion I've had my eye on may be coming onto the market and  it makes sense to go out there to look at it within the next few days. I  complete on the hotel next week and I've been meeting with architects.  The whole building is going to be remodelled to my specifications while  I'm away-and I'm planning to keep on any existing staff who may wish to  stay once it reverts into being a private house again.' He looked into  her wary blue eyes. 'I'm just not sure how appropriate that might be, in  your case.'                       
       
           



       

In the pause which followed, Cathy felt as if someone had taken a jagged  shard of glass and speared it hard through her heart. She felt faint,  dizzy, as his words had sent a chill of fear icing down her spine. 'I'm  not sure I understand what you mean,' she said slowly.

Xaviero sighed. He had hoped that she might make this easy for  him-without him actually having to spell out the gulf of inequality  which would make any further liaison impossible. 'You know we can't  continue being lovers when I return,' he said softly. 'I'll be building a  settled life here, and it won't look good-not for either of us.'

'But especially not for you?'

He saw the hurt in her eyes which she was doing her best to disguise,  but he knew he had to be honest with her. With a sudden sharp pang, he  remembered how the doctors and even his own father had prevaricated when  he had asked them whether his mother would live. They had given him  hope. Stupid, misplaced hope. So that Xaviero had learnt there was only  one solution to misplaced hope-and that was to kill it.

'No,' he agreed heavily. 'You may find it uncomfortable if you stay  here, Cathy. One of these days I may get around to looking around for a  suitable partner,' he said, and then added, just so that there could be  no possible misunderstanding, 'A bride. Because sooner or later I'm  going to have to think about settling down.' He felt her stiffen. 'And  I'm not sure how easy you might find that, either. If you were still  employed here in some kind of chambermaid capacity, and I was bringing a  woman back here and-'

'Asking me to change your dirty sheets?' she questioned bluntly.

'Cathy!'

'Well, it's true, isn't it?' Because he had sketched out the possible  scenario and now wasn't it up to her to colour in the blanks? To imagine  the whole ghastly reality of what he was saying to her. And that way,  surely, there would be no space left for illusion or any more hurt?  'And, yes, you're right, Xaviero. It really would be very awkward for  both of you if I were still around.'