the cloth enfolded her sensation splintered in the pit of her stomach. Still warm from his body, the jacket sparked a violent, primal tug of awareness deep inside her, an awareness made keener, more intense by the faint, clean scent that had to be his—scent only a lover would recognise.
‘All right?’ he asked, frowning. He dropped his hands over hers, clasping them as he said more gently, ‘You’ve had a very nasty experience, but it’s over now. You’re safe.’
‘Thanks to you,’ she muttered. Safe? When every cell in her body was drumming with a wild, strange need?
He said something in a language that sounded like Italian before freeing her and turning away to set the car in motion. As it pulled away from the taxi rank he asked in English, ‘I have forgotten where we turn next.’
Still shaking inside, she gave him directions. Had he really said something like ‘dangerously beautiful’ in what must be his mother tongue?
Of course not. She tried to straighten her trembling mouth. In spite of a superficial resemblance, the Dacian language was not Italian.
But he found her attractive.
So what? Being rescued from what might have been an exceedingly nasty situation was no excuse for behaving like a halfwit. Prince Luka Bagaton of Dacia might possess courage and some kindness, he might even think she was beautiful, but he was way out of her reach—and she wasn’t reaching! A quick fling with a visiting prince was not her style.
Alexa stiffened her spine and her shoulders. When the car stopped outside the police station she groped for the door handle and said in her most formal voice, ‘Thank you very much for your help. I hope you enjoy the rest of your stay in New Zealand.’
After a quick glance at his watch, he said, ‘I’ll come in with you.’
Alexa objected. ‘You don’t need to become tangled up in this. You were on your way somewhere…’
To Sandra Beauchamp’s bed, perhaps?
Without looking at her he said, ‘I saw them too. I may be able to help identify them.’
‘I…’ She hesitated, then blurted, ‘You don’t want to get involved.’
‘You’re right,’ he said, courteously inflexible, ‘but it is my duty.’
CHAPTER TWO
HALF an hour later, after separate interviews, the sergeant complimented them both. ‘I wish all our witnesses were as observant as you two! With such good descriptions we should nail them before they do any damage.’ She looked at Alexa and said, ‘We’ll contact you if we need to.’
Alexa nodded. In the small room where she’d made her statement and drawn a sketch of both assailants she’d been given tea and some bracing, professional sympathy. It had helped, but her insides still felt as though someone had taken to them with a drill, and weak, irritating tears kept stinging her eyes.
Luka’s firm hand on her elbow ushered her out to his car. ‘You’ll have to direct me to your address,’ he said after a searching glance.
In a monotone Alexa guided him to her small flat in one of the inner city suburbs. He drove skilfully and well, although a couple of times she had to fill him in on New Zealand road rules.
Once they’d drawn up outside what had used to be a Victorian merchant’s house, now converted to flats, she said sincerely, ‘Thank you very much for everything you’ve done.’
The words stumbled to silence when he looked at her with cool, dispassionate irony, his angular features clamped into an expression of aloof withdrawal. Tension sparked through her, lifting the hair on her skin. Delayed shock, she thought protectively.
Swallowing, she continued with prickly determination, ‘I don’t like to think of what might have happened if you hadn’t come along.’
‘Don’t think of it. Your scream would have brought someone running. I did nothing,’ he said negligently and got out, swinging around the front of the car to open the door for her. ‘But promise me one thing.’
Clinging to the door, she braced herself. He was too close, but even as the thought formed he stepped back and she pulled herself upright on quivering legs.
‘What?’ she asked, her throat tightening around the words so that they emerged spiky with caution.
His smile was a flash of white in the darkness—sexy, knowledgeable and implacable. ‘That from now on you will call the doorman when you leave the hotel.’
‘From tomorrow I’ll be driving my own car, but I promise I won’t go walking alone at night,’ she responded quickly, groping in her bag for her keys. In her turn she smiled at him. Keep it impersonal, she warned herself, angry because she was so acutely conscious of him, tall and lethally masculine, his dark energy feeding some kind of hunger in her. ‘And I don’t work at the hotel,’ she added.
His eyes narrowed. ‘I saw you—’
‘Handing out snacks,’ she agreed. ‘I’m on the emergency roster and I was called in tonight because flu is laying the staff low.’ It seemed days ago now, as though the telephone call had summoned a different woman.
For someone who wanted to keep things on an impersonal level, she was failing miserably. Get out of here, she told herself silently. Now!
Walking carefully past him, she went up the steps to the front door, unlocked it and turned, to flinch back with dilating eyes at the tall, dominant silhouette that blocked out most of the light.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said harshly, hands closing around her upper arms. Warm, strong, unthreatening, they gave her support and steadiness. Frowning, he said, ‘You’re too pale. You’ve had a shock, and you should have someone to make sure you’re all right.’ His arms closed around her, pulling her into the hard warmth of his body.
In spite of the warnings hammering her brain, Alexa let herself lean on him, accepting the male comfort he offered with a purely female gratitude.
‘You were brave,’ he said on an unexpected note of gentleness. ‘I saw you gauge your options and decide that screaming and fighting back offered the best chance. Quick thinking, and a refusal to accept being a victim. Do you know how to defend yourself?’
‘No. I’ve always thought I should do s-something about it, but I’ve never s-seemed to have the time.’ She stopped her stammered explanation to drag in a quick, shallow breath. It was dangerously sweet to be cosseted. Forcing a brisk note into her voice, she pulled away, both relieved and disappointed when he released her instantly. ‘I’m sorry I interrupted your evening.’
He frowned, the dim light emphasising his brutally handsome features. ‘It was nothing. Can I ring someone for you?’
‘It’s really not necessary—I’m a bit shaky, but a good night’s sleep will fix that.’ Alexa suddenly remembered his coat, still keeping her warm. ‘Oh, your jacket!’ She set her bag down on the balustrade and struggled to get out of it, hauling at the material so recklessly that her shirt lifted free of her waistband.
The Prince’s hands skimmed the silken skin on either
