Shy Queen In The Royal Spotlight (Once Upon a Temptation, Book 3) Page 7

  ‘Does it frighten you?’ He cocked his head.

  ‘Of course.’ She laughed. ‘But I’m determined to hide it.’

  ‘Why?’ He stepped closer to her. ‘You do that a lot, right? Hide your feelings. You do it well.’

  ‘Is that a compliment or a criticism?’ she asked lightly.

  ‘Maybe it’s just a comment.’ His voice dropped to that delicious softness again that implied seductive intimacy—laced with steel.

  ‘With no sentiment behind it?’ She shook her head. ‘There’s always a judgement. That’s what people do.’

  ‘True.’ He nodded. ‘You judged me.’

  She stared at him.

  ‘My lifestyle.’ He flicked his eyebrows suggestively.

  She fought back the flush. ‘I never thought you’d be so sensitive to an idle comment.’

  ‘It wasn’t idle and you’re still judging me right now,’ he teased. ‘You don’t know me, Hester.’

  Her heart thudded. ‘I know all I need to.’

  ‘A bullet list of preferences that might change in an hour? That’s not knowing me.’

  ‘It’s just enough detail to give this believability. I don’t need to get to know you any more...’

  ‘Intimately?’ he suggested in that silken voice. ‘Personally?’

  Those dimples were winking at her again. He was so unfairly handsome. And she’d never stood this close to someone in years. Never trusted that someone wouldn’t hurt her—with words, or a pinch or a spiteful tug of her hair. So personal space was a thing. Wary, she stepped back, even though there was a large part of her buried deep inside that didn’t want her to move in that direction at all.

  ‘I’m going to be your husband,’ he pointed out quietly.

  ‘No. You’re going to be my boss.’

  ‘Partner.’

  ‘Boss,’ she argued. ‘You’re paying me.’

  ‘You are afraid.’ He brushed the back of his hand across her jaw ever so lightly. ‘Tell me why.’

  She froze at his caress, at his scrutiny. She couldn’t think how to answer as tension strained between them. She was torn between the desire to flee or fall into his arms. Just as she feared her control would snap, he stepped back.

  The dimples broke his solemnity. ‘Come on, I have something to show you.’

  She traipsed after him along endless corridors with vaulted ceilings and paintings covering every inch of the walls. Even the doors were massive. ‘I’m never going to find my way back here. I need breadcrumbs or something.’

  He laughed and pushed open yet another door. ‘This is your space.’

  ‘My space?’

  ‘Your apartment.’

  Her what? She stepped inside and took a second to process the stunningly ornate antechamber.

  ‘It spans two stories within this wing of the palace, but is fully self-contained.’ Alek detailed the features. ‘You have a lounge, study, small kitchen, bedroom plus a spare, inward-facing balconies for privacy and of course bathroom facilities. You can redecorate it however you wish.’

  She couldn’t actually get past this initial reception room. ‘I have all this to myself?’

  ‘A year is a long time.’ Alek circled his hand in the air as he stepped forward. ‘I want you to be happy. I want you to feel like it’s your home. You can have privacy and space.’ He faced her. ‘You can build your own library of thrillers in here if you wish.’

  Hester stared at the massive room. No one had ever offered her anything like this in her life. When she’d moved to her aunt’s house, she’d not been offered the same kind of welcome. And she’d tried so hard to fit in. But it had been awkward and they’d made her feel as if it was such a sacrifice to have her take up some of their precious space. She’d felt uncomfortable, unable to change anything for fear of offending them. She’d accumulated nothing much of her very own and that was good, given what had happened. And that minimalist habit had extended to her time at the campus. The rooms were so small, and she’d not cluttered them with anything other than books. So now, confronted with this kind of generosity, emotion choked, not just her throat, but her thinking. It was too much. Everything he’d already done was too much. He’d submerged her in an abundance that she couldn’t handle. She gripped her little backpack as her limbs trembled. Frozen and tongue-tied, she couldn’t trust herself to move.

  ‘They’ve brought your suitcase in already,’ he said.

  She saw it next to one of the enormous comfortable-looking armchairs. She had such little stuff for such an opulent space it was ridiculous.

  His eyebrows pulled together and he hesitated a moment before stepping towards the window. ‘There’s good views across to the ocean and the balcony in your bedroom is completely private. No one will be able to see you.’ He paused again and she felt him gazing at her. ‘Do you not like it?’

  ‘No.’ She could hardy speak for the emotion completely clogging her up. She stared hard at the floor, knowing that if she blinked some of that hot, burning liquid was going to leak from her eyes and she really didn’t want that to happen. Then she realised she’d said the wrong thing. ‘Not no. I meant... I just...it’s fine.’

  ‘Fine,’ he echoed, but his voice sounded odd. ‘So why do you look like...?’ He trailed off and stepped closer than before and there was nothing for her to hide behind. ‘You look like you’re about to cry.’

  She felt that wall of awkwardness rise and slick mortification spread at the realisation he could read her all too easily. Why could she suddenly not hide her feelings? And worse, why couldn’t she hold them back?

  ‘I don’t cry.’ It wasn’t a lie—until now.

  ‘Not ever—?’

  ‘Do you?’ she interrupted him, forcing herself to swallow back the tears and throw him off guard the way he was her.

  He gazed at her intently and it was even worse. ‘Hester—’

  ‘I’m fine.’ She dragged in a breath, but couldn’t pull it together enough to keep it all back. ‘It’s just that I’ve never had such a big place all to myself.’

  The confession slithered out, something she’d never trusted anyone enough to tell before. She didn’t want him to think she didn’t appreciate the effort he’d gone to. She knew he had insane wealth and property, but he’d thought this through for her. He’d taken time to consider what she might like. No one had done that for her. Not since she’d lost her parents. So she deeply appreciated this gesture, but she really needed to hold herself together because she couldn’t bear to unravel completely before him.

  She sensed him remain near her for a strained moment but then he strolled back towards the window.

  ‘Personally I think the wallpaper in here is a bit much.’ He casually nodded at the ferociously ornate green and black pattern.

  Startled, she glanced across at him.

  ‘You have to agree,’ he added drolly. ‘The word would be gaudy.’

  She couldn’t contain the giggle that bubbled up, a fountain of pure silliness. As her face creased, that tear teetered over the edge and she quickly wiped its trail from her cheek.

  ‘I’m right, aren’t I?’ If he’d noticed her action, he didn’t comment. Instead he wriggled his finger at the seam where wallpaper met window frame until he tugged enough loose to tear it.

  ‘Alek!’

  ‘Oh, the press are going to love it if you say my name with that hint of censure,’ he teased in an altogether different tone.

  A shock wave of heat blasted through her. Its impact was explosive, ripping through her walls to release the raw awareness. She’d been determined to ignore it. She knew he was an outrageous flirt, but it wasn’t his tone or his teasing jokes that caused this reaction within her. It was everything about him. He made her wonder about the kind of intimacy she’d never known. The kind she’d actively avoided. And she’d never wanted to step cl
oser to a person before.

  ‘Don’t be afraid to ask for what you want, Hester,’ he said softly.

  She stared at him blankly, her mind going in all kinds of searing directions.

  ‘You can do what you like,’ he offered. ‘Take out walls, rip up the carpet, whatever.’

  Oh. Right. He meant the rooms. Only she hadn’t been thinking about the décor and what she feared she wanted was far too forbidden.

  ‘Don’t worry about the budget. I can just sell one of my horses to cover it.’

  ‘Don’t you love your horses more than anything?’ She tried to break her unfortunate fixation.

  ‘Other than my crown and my sister?’ he teased. ‘Or my playboy lifestyle?’

  She licked her dried lips and refused to continue along that track. ‘Do you have an apartment in here too?’

  ‘Right next door.’ He nodded. ‘It’s best if we’re near each other.’

  ‘I understand, it needs to look okay.’ She made herself agree. ‘Because this is a job,’ she reiterated. But it was a lie already. ‘It’s just an act.’

  With no intimacy—emotional or otherwise.

  His gaze narrowed. ‘I’d like to think we can be friends, Hester.’

  She didn’t have friends. Acquaintances and colleague, yes. But not friends. Since the rejection she’d suffered after her parents’ deaths, she’d not been able to trust people, not got to know anyone well. Not even Princess Fiorella.

  But she sensed that Alek expected a little more from her and perhaps that was fair enough. It wasn’t right for her to judge him based on the actions of others he didn’t even know. Or on the salacious reports the media wrote about him. She had to take him on his own actions around her and so far she had to admit he’d been decent. He’d done everything in his power to make this as easy as possible for her. And it wasn’t his fault she was attracted to him like that. That element was up to her to control.

  ‘I’m sure we can.’ But inwardly she froze, petrified by her own internal reaction to him.

  Her brain was fixed along one utterly inappropriate track. She had the horrible feeling it was like the teen girl’s first crush she’d never actually had. The fact was he didn’t need to do or say anything but he’d half seduced her already. Could she really be so shallow as to be beguiled by his looks alone?

  ‘It’s going to be fine,’ she said firmly. ‘We have a whole year and most of the time I’ll stay safe inside the palace, right?’ She moved into the room, faking her comfort within the large, luxurious space. ‘Actually I’m happy to stay here while you go to that meeting now, if you like.’

  His eyes widened. ‘Are you dismissing me, Hester?’

  She smiled at his mild affront. ‘Are you not used to that?’

  ‘You know I’m not.’

  ‘You’ll get used to it.’ She couldn’t help a small giggle as she echoed his own reassurance.

  ‘What if I don’t want to?’ He stepped closer.

  Hester swallowed her smile and stilled. For a long moment they just stared at each other. Then, once more, he took a step back and the dimples flickered ever so briefly.

  ‘I’m afraid I need you for another few minutes to show you something else.’ He gestured towards the door.

  ‘Do I need string?’ She grimaced.

  He chuckled. ‘It’s very near.’

  She followed him through another doorway and then down a curling flight of stairs and blinked on the threshold of a huge airy space. There was a gorgeous pool—half indoor, half out, surrounded by lush plantings and private sun loungers.

  ‘My father had this built for Fiorella’s privacy, but she wanted her freedom. After my mother died, my father became overprotective and the palace became a bit of a prison for her.’

  Hester swallowed at the mention of his mother. She’d not been brave enough to ask him about her at all. ‘Was it a prison for you too?’

  ‘I was older. And—as bad as it sounds—I was a guy. He didn’t have the same concerns for me as he did for her.’

  ‘Seriously?’

  ‘I know,’ he sighed. ‘Double standards suck. She was a lot younger though and she’d lost her mother. Everyone needs some freedom of choice, don’t they? Fi definitely did.’

  ‘She told me you helped her get your father’s approval for her to study abroad,’ Hester said. ‘That it was only because you promised to stay and do all the royal duties that she could go. And that now your father’s gone, you’ve told her she can do whatever she wants.’

  He glanced out across the water. ‘She enjoys her studies. She should have the freedom and opportunity to finish them. She’s a smart woman.’

  Hester’s curiosity flared. ‘What would you have done if you’d had the same freedom of choice that Fiorella now does?’

  His smile was distant. ‘There was never that choice for me, Hester.’

  Alek’s phone buzzed and he quickly checked the message. ‘The wedding dress designers have arrived.’

  Oh. She’d forgotten about that. But she found herself anticipating the planning—she’d very recently decided that there was something to be said for smoke and mirrors. The look on his face when she’d appeared after her airplane make-over had been both reward and insult. She’d quite like to surprise him some more.

  ‘Is there a particular style you’d like for my dress?’ she asked demurely.

  He gazed at her for a moment, his eyes narrowing. ‘I’m sure you’ll look amazing in whatever you choose to wear.’ But his dimples suddenly appeared. ‘Though I do wonder if you’ll dare to go beyond the basics for once.’

  ‘Feathers and frills?’

  ‘Why not?’ He led her back to her apartment where Hester found the women waiting. Hester drew in a deep breath and followed them in.

  Four hours later Alek was hot and tired from going through the military-like wedding arrangements with his advisors and answering all their incessant questions. The media had already begun staking out the palace. The news had reverberated in a shock wave around the world. The news channels were running nothing but the photo that had been taken in the plane on the way over and digging deep for nuggets about Hester already. Fortunately her family were already on their way over and unable to comment because he’d ensured Wi-Fi wasn’t available on their flight so he still had time to guide their speculation.

  Though he’d learned more about her in the small pieces being published as soon as they were written than from her own too-brief mentions of her past. The bald facts were there, but the real truth of her? The depth? He doubted the investigative reporters would get anywhere near it. She was so self-contained even he was struggling and he was the one with her. What had happened to her parents? Why was she so alone? What did she keep in that broken little box that she kept nearby at all times?

  ‘Alek?’

  He blinked, recalling his concentration. He couldn’t waste time wondering what made her tick—what secrets and hurts she held close—he had to run the palace, reply to invitations to tour another country, clarify Triscari’s position on a new European environmental accord, and not least decide the next steps for the stud programme at his stables. Too much at the best of times.

  Yet he still couldn’t help thinking about Hester, concerned about how she was dealing with all those designers and the decisions she had to make, wondering how else he could make her comfortable. He’d liked being able to do something that had truly moved her—seeing her real response pierce her calm exterior had been oddly exhilarating. He wanted to mine more of that deeply buried truth from her and know for sure he’d pleased her.

  In the end he called an assistant to check on his fiancée’s movements and report back. Five minutes later he learned she’d been cloistered in her rooms this whole time. Stifling a grimace, Alek turned back to the paperwork spread on the vast table before him. The prospect of their impending
marriage strangled him, fogging his usual sharp decision-making ability, making everything take longer. Another hour passed and he was almost at the point of bursting in on Hester himself, just to ensure they hadn’t accidentally suffocated her in all that silk.

  ‘Enough.’ He pushed back when his advisors raised another thorny problem.

  He’d been issuing instructions for hours and he was done.

  If it were an ordinary day, he’d go for a ride to clear his head. But today wasn’t anything like ordinary and he couldn’t leave the confines of the palace, what with all the media gulls gathering. Irritated with being even more tightly constrained than usual, he impatiently stalked towards his wing. The tug deep inside drawing him there was desperation for his own space, wasn’t it? It wasn’t any need to see her.

  He gritted his teeth as he reached her door and pushed himself past it. But once he was in his own room he heard soft splashes through the open window. He paused. Was someone in the pool?

  He swiftly glanced out of the window. The view all but killed his brain as his blood surged south. Those utility trousers and tee had done a good job of hiding her figure. So had those two dresses, even, with their floaty fabric and draping styles. Because now, in that plain, black, purely functional swimsuit, Hester Moss was even more lush in particular parts than he’d expected. She truly was a goddess. And maybe this marriage wasn’t going to be as awful as he’d imagined. Already teasing her was a delight, while touching her a temptation he was barely resisting.

  For the first time in his life he was pleased his father had been so overprotective towards his sister. That he’d ensured the pool was completely secure from prying eyes—beyond these private apartments, of course. In fact, the whole palace was a fortress. No one could see in and, with the air restrictions in place, no helicopters could fly over with cameras on board. He opened the door to his balcony and lightly ran down the curling stone steps to the private courtyard.

  She was swimming lazy lengths and apparently hadn’t noticed his arrival. It wasn’t until she rolled onto her back that she saw him. Her eyes widened and she sank like a stone beneath the surface before emerging again with a splutter. He was so tempted to skim his hands over her creamy skin and sensual curves. He ached to test their silkiness and softness for himself. Except she now hid—ducking down in the blue so only her head poked above the gentle ripples she’d caused.