'What am I missing? The most important thing of all,' he drawled softly. 'I'm missing my bride.'
CHAPTER TWO
'YOUR bride?' The word clung to her dry mouth. Oh God, she was cracking up. The effort of holding it together was just too much. It was bad enough that he was here in person, but the fact that he was here to talk about his bride was a double blow. Did he have no tact? No sensitivity at all?
Shock cut through the sickness she felt at seeing him. She needed to think, but that was impossible with him dominating her office in that sleek dark suit that emphasised the width of those shoulders and the muscular strength of his powerful frame. It bothered her that she noticed his body. It bothered her even more to feel the answering response in her own. This office was her personal space. Having it invaded by him felt difficult and she hated the fact that it felt difficult because she so badly wanted to feel nothing. She was used to being in control of herself at all times. Wanted it most of all at this time.
But as that control slipped from her, she felt a buzz of panic. Over the past year she'd turned off news coverage about economic and political stability in his country. Even though her company was responsible for the evening party to follow his wedding, she'd averted her eyes from stories about that event. If she didn't need to read it, she didn't read it. When their paths crossed at events she was organizing or attending as a guest, she restricted their contact to a brief nod across a crowded room even though the only man in the room she ever saw was him. She'd avoided it all in an attempt to regain control of her life and her feelings. Everything she did, she did to protect herself. Mal had hurt her. And he'd hurt her so badly that seeing him now brought her right back to the edge.
What frightened her most wasn't the sense of power and authority that could subdue a room full of people, nor was it his spectacular looks, even though the lethal combination of dark masculinity and perfect musculature was sufficient to make happily married women contemplate infidelity. No, what frightened her-what made her truly vulnerable-was the sensual gleam in those dangerous black eyes.
He was the most sexual man she'd ever met. Or maybe it was just their history that made her think that about him.
The look he gave her was reserved for her and her alone. It was a look that blatantly acknowledged a past she would rather have forgotten. It made every interaction deeply personal and the last thing she wanted was personal. She wanted to forget every intimacy they'd ever shared.
He was marrying another woman.
Remembering that, she kept her tone neutral and refused to let herself respond to that velvety dark gaze that threatened to strip away every defence she'd constructed between them. This wasn't about her. It was about his bride.
'Kalila is missing?' Despite her own tangled emotions and natural instinct for self-preservation, she felt a rush of concern. She'd met Kalila on a few occasions and had found her friendly, if rather shy. The girl had seemed more than a little overwhelmed by the Prince even though they'd reportedly known one another for years. 'Are you saying she's been kidnapped or something?'
'No, not kidnapped.'
'But if she's missing, how can you be so sure she hasn't been kidnapped? I mean, she is a princess. I suppose there are people who-'
'A note was delivered to me.'
'A note?' Her brain wasn't working properly. All she could think about was him. 'But-'
'Not a ransom note. A note from her.'
'I don't understand.' It was a struggle to concentrate. Looking at him sent images chasing into her head. Images that usually only haunted her when she slept.
'She has run away-' The words were offered up with obvious reluctance and Avery stared at him in silence. And that silence stretched so long that in the end he broke it with an impatient gesture. 'Her reasons are irrelevant.'
'Irrelevant?' She shook her head to clear it of all the thoughts she shouldn't be having. What would have driven the shy, compliant Kalila to do something so radical? 'How can her reasons possibly be irrelevant? How can you dismiss her views like that?'
'I'm not dismissing her views. But what matters is not the reasons she left, but getting her back.'
'And you don't think the two of those things might be linked? Why did she leave? For someone like Kalila to do something so dramatic, she must have had a really good reason.'
'She doesn't want this marriage.' He spoke through his teeth and Avery wondered if the tension she heard in his tone reflected his irritation at the disruption of his plans or his sentiments towards his bride-to-be.
Mal was a man who was relentlessly sure of himself, a skilled negotiator, composed and in control and she knew from personal experience that he didn't react well to anything that disrupted his plans.
'Oh dear.' It was a pathetic commentary on the situation but the best she could come up with. 'That is inconvenient. Hard to get married without a bride, I do see that.'
'It is far more than "inconvenient". This wedding must go ahead.'
'Because it is what her father wants?'
'Because it is what I want. I need to reassure her that our marriage can work. I need her to know I am nothing like her father. I can protect her.'
Avery stared at him numbly.
Had he ever been this protective of her? No. Of course not. And she wouldn't have wanted him to be. She didn't need protecting, did she? She never had. What hurt was the fact that he could move from one woman to another with such ease. 'So you're about to leap onto horseback wielding your sword to protect her. Good. That's … good. I'm sure she'll appreciate the gesture.' All this time she'd been telling herself that this marriage was no more than a political union . That he didn't have feelings for Kalila.
Clearly she'd been wrong about that, too.
He had strong feelings. Why else would he be so determined to go through with this?
Her throat felt thick. There was a burning sensation behind her eyes.
Fortunately he didn't notice. 'She is extremely vulnerable. Not that I'd expect you to understand that. You don't do "vulnerable", do you?'
He had no idea. 'I understand that you want to slay her dragons.'
'Whereas you would rather a man gave you a dragon so that you could slay it yourself.'
'I'm an animal lover. If you'd bought me a dragon I would have kept it as a pet.'
Once, an exchange like that would have ended in laughter. He would have challenged her. She would have challenged him right back and eventually the clash would have led where it always led-to the bedroom, or any other place that could afford them the privacy they craved.
'I simply think it would be wiser if she learned to protect herself.'
'Not every woman is like you.' There was a dark bitterness in his tone that stung wounds still not healed. She'd started to despair they ever would be.
Her stress levels soared skyward. Her jaw ached from clenching her teeth. Her insides were churning and suddenly she wished she hadn't drunk the coffee on an empty stomach. 'I do see your problem. It's hard to get married without a bride. However, while I sympathise with your dilemma and applaud your macho protective streak, which I'm sure your bride will find extremely touching, I really don't understand my role in this. I carry spares of most things, but not brides I'm afraid.'
'Kalila liked you. She admired you. She considered you her friend. Or as close to a friend as someone with her life could ever have.' His wide shoulders shifted slightly as if he were trying to ease tension and she realised that he was every bit as stressed as she was. There was a glint in those eyes, a simmering tension in that powerful frame that told her he was feeling what she was feeling. 'I'm asking for your help.'
'My help?' She wondered why he made her feel vulnerable. She was tall, but his height and build overpowered her. 'I don't understand how I can possibly help.' Looking at him now, she wondered how they'd ever sustained their relationship for so long. He was so autocratic. Very much the Crown Prince, a man of breathtaking power and influence. There was no sign of the man who had laughed with her and enjoyed philosophical arguments long into the night. This man was austere and, yes, intimidating. Those eyes looked straight through to her mind, seeing things she didn't want him to see. He'd once told her that he could judge a person's reaction more accurately from what they did than what they said. It was a skill that had stood him in good stead in handling diplomatic tensions between neighbouring countries.
Remembering that, she stood still and did nothing. She didn't allow her gaze to slide from his. If her body language wasn't silent, then at least it was muted. 'I cannot imagine what help I can possibly offer. I organize parties. I have it on good authority that I lead a life of unimpeded frivolity.'