shrugged. ‘Lousy, I imagine—I haven’t played for years.’
Possibly not, but the powerful coil and flow of muscle beneath his shirt told her he exercised in some way. And she soon discovered he played a fierce game, revealing a natural athleticism that forced Serina onto the defensive. Fully extended, she set her lips firmly and fought back, determined not to let him win easily.
As they walked back to the penthouse after her honourable defeat, he commented, ‘You’re a fighter.’
Was that a note of surprise in his voice? Good, she thought.
‘I try very hard not to lose,’ she told him, conscious of her T-shirt clinging to her damp skin and knowing she badly needed another shower.
But she’d enjoyed the hard physical tussle, and the fact that she’d made Alex work for his victory. One of her mother’s favourite sayings had been that a man needed to know he was stronger than the woman in his life. Her mother had been wrong. It might apply to men who were fundamentally weak, but Serina didn’t believe Alex would have been shattered if he’d been beaten. His innate self-confidence came from something much more firmly based than a constant need to prove himself a winner.
‘I don’t know of anyone who likes losing,’ he said thoughtfully. ‘I certainly don’t.’
It could have been a warning, but she was oddly warmed by his considered response. It seemed to indicate a relaxation of the formidable authority she found so intimidating.
She said, ‘It must be a characteristic of the men in your family. Kelt and Gerd are both win-at-all-costs men.’
‘Do you think so?’ He frowned. ‘We like to win—we work hard at doing just that—but I wouldn’t have said that any of us see victory as a goal worth achieving no matter what the cost.’
For once she’d let her tongue run away with her. ‘I overstated the case,’ she agreed. ‘Winning is important to them, though.’
‘And to the men in your family too, I understand. So do you think your brother has any chance of getting back the Montevel throne?’ he asked, his tone unchanged.
Stunned, Serina stared at him. He was watching her closely, and something about his total lack of expression chilled her. She asked incredulously, ‘What on earth are you talking about?’
‘Come on, Princess, surely you knew your brother and a bunch of other exiled Montevellans are plotting to regain the throne?’
They had stopped at the elevator that led to the penthouse. As she stepped inside, Serina’s brain came up with the answer and she started to laugh.
‘You’re talking about their computer game, aren’t you?’
‘Is that what it is?’ His tone was neutral, at variance with his probing gaze, hard as quartz.
He pressed the button and the elevator whooshed upwards, leaving her stomach behind. ‘How did you hear about it?’ she asked.
‘News gets around.’
She frowned. ‘They’ll be worried about that. Doran said the gaming world is really cut-throat, and they don’t want anyone to know what they’re working on until it’s ready for production.’ She looked up at Alex. ‘Do you have any interests in that area?’
‘No,’ he said bluntly. ‘And I think you’ve just insulted me. Even if I did have a financial interest in the creation of video games, I wouldn’t steal other people’s ideas.’
Serina flushed. This man had a seriously weakening effect on her normal good manners, and his reputation for integrity gave Serina no reason to disbelieve him.
Nevertheless, she asked, ‘How did you get to hear about it? Doran only told me about it because I was angry at the amount of time he was spending on the computer, and even then he swore me to secrecy. He said they were all being really close-mouthed about it.’
‘Tell me about this game,’ Alex said dryly.
When she hesitated he continued with a flick of hauteur, ‘Of course, if you think I can’t be trusted—’
‘I’m sure you can be,’ Serina said, making up her mind, and rather glad to confide in someone. ‘It started just before the end of last year. One of Doran’s friends is an ardent game player, and apparently when they were talking about Montevel one night he thought of using Montevel itself, and the idea of restoring the monarchy, as the basis for a world-building game. They’ve all become fascinated by it.’ Her smile was a little lopsided. ‘Partly because they hope that if it takes off they’ll become instant millionaires. Doran’s had a lot of fun working out what he’ll do with his share.’
Alex lifted an eyebrow. ‘And that is?’
‘Sail around the world in a super yacht to all the really good diving spots,’ she told him wryly.
‘So what’s your part in it?’
The elevator stopped and the doors slid open. She said, ‘None—unless you count nagging Doran about staying up all night when he’s working out more tricks and turns to the game. His latest idea is the introduction of a nest of vampires in the mountains on the border of Carathia and Montevel.’
Alex unlocked the door to the penthouse. Should she tell him she was starting to get seriously concerned about Doran’s obsession with the game?
No. Loyalty to her brother and a lifetime of keeping her own counsel warned her to stay silent.
Alex stood back to let her into the apartment. She walked through into the living room and stopped by the window, looking out at the view.
The sounds of the city were muted by the glass and the wide terrace outside and, although she couldn’t see Alex, she could feel his presence behind her.
It was thanks to Alex that her brother was in Vanuatu—and she hoped he was enjoying himself so much that when he came back the game would no longer have such a grip on him.
Alex said evenly, ‘So it’s just a fantasy war game concocted by a group of kids brought up on stories of the good old days in Montevel?’
Serina turned. Her heart missed a beat. He was watching her mouth and a glint in the dark, unreadable blue of his eyes set her pulse skyrocketing.
‘What else could it be?’ Her voice shook a little, and her hands were too tightly folded—almost clenched at her sides. Deliberately, she relaxed them, producing a coolly amused smile. ‘Has someone been feeding you stories of a bunch of battle-hardened revolutionaries?’
Something about Alex’s answering smile—a hint of ruthlessness—sent tiny cold shivers down her spine.
But his voice was calm and reasonable. ‘One of my security men heard something about their activities—but didn’t realise it was a video game. Because Montevel is on Gerd’s borders, he knew I’d be interested.’
‘Ah, I see.’ So had he offered the trip to Vanuatu—and this holiday to her—so he could find out what he wanted to know?
The suggestion had no right to hurt, but it did. She
