gave him a superior look. That was her story and she was sticking to it. But she felt a prickly sense of irritation that he seemed so ready to think the worst of her. She wanted to react to his dry tone with a sharp retort, but she stopped herself in time. She had to remember what was going on here. This was not a real relationship with a real man. This was playacting.
And she wasn’t supposed to be involved in it, darn it all! She had to watch what she said and hope to get out of this without being unmasked. Looking into his eyes, she searched for evidence that he had suspicions about her. But all she saw were shadows hiding any emotion he might be feeling. If he did feel anything at all. Which she was beginning to doubt.
The trouble was, she did feel things. Sometimes she seemed to be a fountain of feeling, spilling out all over the place. Instinct told her she was already beginning to feel a very inappropriate list of things about this man. And wouldn’t that just land her in a pickle if she didn’t watch it? Not only was he a prince, while she was a phony, paid by the hour, but his hard jaw and ice-cold gaze told her he wouldn’t melt for a mere woman. Not on a bet.
“Amnesia runs in my family,” she told him airily, deciding nonsense was better than trying to stick to facts. “We all get it sooner or later.”
He nodded, looking slightly bored. “I understand,” he said. “The truth is often difficult to face.”
Her eyes narrowed as she looked up at him. Was he baiting her? “And you think you know the truth about me?” she asked slowly.
His smile didn’t reach his eyes. “I seem to know more of it than you do. You have amnesia. Remember?”
She bit her lip. Score one for the arrogant prince. Now she was really annoyed, but that was certainly less dangerous than swooning.
“What I remember most about our last meeting was, actually, the dancing,” he went on. “You dance much better now than you did then. As I recall, your spike heels gouged holes in my feet that didn’t heal for weeks.”
“I’m so sorry,” she told him unconvincingly. And then she couldn’t resist a quick follow-up. “But I think you’d have to admit, at least a part of the credit goes to now having a partner who has finally learned how to lead.”
He gazed at her questioningly. “I thought you didn’t remember anything from the past.”
She waved a hand in the air. “I don’t. I’m just extrapolating from current evidence.”
“Oh, I see.” His face finally registered the fact that she was purposely trying to get his goat. “So you find my dancing just barely adequate at this point?”
She smiled, glad to know he was feeling her jabs at last but still not sure if he was taking them with humor or annoyance. “I didn’t say that at all.”
His blue eyes glittered. “No, but you certainly implied it.”
“Assumptions are risky things.”
“I guess I lead a dangerous life, then.” His eyebrow quirked. “Speaking of which…”
She could tell by his tone that he was leading into something she wasn’t going to like and she steeled herself.
“I hear you’ve been leading quite an interesting life since I saw you last. Perhaps you might find time at some future date to fill me in on the particulars of anything I might need to know.”
She saw right through him. What was he angling for, an abject apology from the princess that she’d been around the block a few times? Despite the gossip she’d heard about Iliana, and the things she knew about her as well, she felt an impulse to defend her. But she held it back. After all, she wasn’t here to build foundations for their future relationship. She was just here to smile and get through the evening without creating a disaster.
“A gentleman doesn’t ask a lady things about her past,” she said evasively, her glance into his eyes just short of a glare.
His dark eyebrow rose again. “In my experience, that rule only applies when the past is somewhat shady.”
“Shady!”
“Well, cloudy at the very least.”
“Really?” Anger could easily turn to fury if she didn’t watch it. She choked back her impulse to go on the attack for a moment, but then couldn’t resist one quick comment. “I suppose your past is pure as the driven snow.”
“My past is irrelevant,” he said, looking infuriatingly superior. “But your reaction tells me all I need to know about yours.”
“Oh really?” The man was insufferable! “A lot you know. Give me one example of something ‘cloudy’ in the prin…in my past.” She knew the moment the words were on her lips that she was courting disaster but she couldn’t stand the way he was lording it over her.
“You wouldn’t like me to do that.”
“You’re bluffing,” she challenged hotly, and dancing was forgotten as she stood glaring at him, chin out, hands on her hips. “You don’t have one.”
He gave her a long-suffering look. “Your Highness, I hardly think this is the time or the place for this sort of display.”
“There.” She tossed her head. “I knew you didn’t really have one.”
His cold gaze settled on her in a way that made her want to take a step backward, but she forced herself to hold her position.
“All right,” he said slowly. “I’ll tell you of one. Although, as you have reminded me, it is very impolite for a gentleman to do so.”
“Have at it.”
Taking her arm and forcing a smile in the direction of a person he recognized, he led her quickly away from the crowd and out onto a balcony where they could have at least the semblance of privacy. Once alone, she swung around to face him, and he began his reminiscence.
“The time I’m thinking of was when you must have been about fourteen. All our families were congregated at that resort in the south of France. I was in a sailing race when I found you, barely dressed in a thong bikini you must have stolen from some street-walker, stowed away in my Laser. Of course, you ruined my chances in the race, and when I put you ashore, you told everyone who would listen that I’d kidnapped you.”
She winced inside, but would have died rather than show it. Princess Iliana did seem to have a penchant for inappropriate behavior. Her own inclination would have been to apologize, but she had to think what the real princess would say to having her adolescent idiocies thrown in her face. So she faced him with defiance.
“Did I also tell them you had no sense of humor?” She shrugged grandly, turning to look out over the city street below where traffic was strung out like diamonds on a chain. “Anyway, you made that up. I wouldn’t ever have done such a thing.” And that was true on a personal level.
“It was you or someone who looks a lot like you,” he said, and her eyes widened, wondering for a second or two if he was wise to her. But he went on, adding, “I’ve thought of a lot more instances, now that you’ve brought them to mind. Would you like to hear another?”
She
