An Officer and a Princess. Carla Cassidy

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him in that deep, low voice that he’d always found far too attractive. “Please, close the door behind you and have a seat.” She gestured to the chair in front of her desk.

      He closed the door, then sat, trying not to notice how lovely she looked. As usual she was dressed in a smart blue business suit, the ornate family crest decorating one breast pocket.

      What was unusual was the careless disarray of her shoulder-length dark brown hair and the bruise-like smudges of dark circles beneath her gorgeous green eyes. Both gave her an uncharacteristic vulnerability.

      She looked tired and edgy, and an answering edginess stirred inside him.

      He knew the past three months had been difficult on her. Although she and her father had often not seen eye to eye on her place in the royal family, he knew of her enormous love for King Michael.

      She didn’t sit, but rather moved to the front of the desk and leaned back against it, displaying to him the perfect slender shapeliness of her long legs beneath the short, pencil-thin skirt. The thought of those legs of hers had given Adam many a sleepless night.

      Princess Isabel Stanbury was not pretty in the traditional sense although there was beauty in her strong, bold features. Dark brows arched above the greenest eyes he’d ever seen. Her nose was narrow and straight…the Stanbury nose. Her mouth was generous, slightly too big for her face until she smiled, then it seemed to fit perfectly well.

      “Thank you for coming,” she said. As always the air crackled with tension between them. “There have been some new developments.”

      He leaned forward, intrigued by any news that might help in their search. “What kind of new developments?”

      The last “developments” she’d pursued had nearly gotten her killed. Adam worked to control a shudder as he thought of how close she had come to getting a bullet in her back.

      She reached to the desktop behind her, the slight stretch causing her jacket to pull taut across her breasts. Adam felt as if the temperature in the room had climbed a full ten degrees.

      He averted his gaze to the wall to her left and didn’t look at her again until she handed him a piece of paper, then he focused his attention on it.

      “What’s this?” he asked, staring at a list of names of people he’d never heard of before.

      “A list of Shane Moore’s closest friends and associates. His sister, Meagan, gave it to me.”

      Adam tried to ignore Isabel’s nearness. The scent of her slightly spicy perfume wafted in the air, and he steeled himself against its evocative fragrance. “And what exactly do you intend to do with this?”

      She moved back to her desk and sat on the edge. “Find out what they know. Surely somebody on that list knows where my father is being held, and who is responsible for his kidnapping. Shane Moore was only a pawn in somebody’s bigger game, and I want that somebody.” Her spring-colored eyes glittered in a way that Adam found distinctly disconcerting…he recognized the glitter as trouble.

      When Isabel had served a tour of duty in the navy, Adam had been her commanding officer. He’d immediately found her to be highly intelligent and self-sufficient. He’d also found her headstrong, stubborn and unwilling to sit on the sidelines in lieu of taking action whenever possible.

      He steadfastly refused to contemplate the other traits he found too attractive…such as the silky feel of her hair beneath his fingertips and the intimate press of her body against his.

      He actively fought against the memory of the single moment when they’d both nearly forgotten themselves and their respective positions and had almost shared a forbidden kiss. Almost.

      “And just what makes you think the people on this list will talk to you…confide in you?” he asked in an attempt to stay focused on business at hand, rather than pleasure never shared.

      “I’m going to go undercover.” She raised her chin and glared at him, as if challenging him to stop her.

      “Need I remind your highness that it’s only been a week since you were nearly shot in the back by Shane Moore?” What Adam would never tell her was how often in the last week he’d suffered nightmares about that moment when Shane’s gun had been pointed at Isabel.

      “If not for the quick action of your cousin, Luke, we wouldn’t be having this conversation,” he continued. “You wouldn’t be talking with anyone.”

      She waved a hand, as if to dismiss the drama. “I’m still not convinced my dear cousin Luke doesn’t have something to do with my father’s disappearance.”

      “He saved your life,” Adam observed.

      She nodded, her eyes gleaming with the intelligence Adam had always admired. “He did, but at the same time did he also manage to kill a co-conspirator before he could talk?”

      Adam sighed. “That thought has crossed my mind, too,” he admitted. “But, you can’t go undercover,” he protested. “Your picture is in the paper all the time. People know who you are.”

      Adam tried not to think about the latest batch of pictures of her that had graced the society pages. In those photos she’d been dancing with a pretty-boy royal named Sebastian Lansbury, a distant cousin of the Thortons, the royal family from Roxbury, and a dandy if Adam had ever seen one.

      The headlines had boldly announced the rumored engagement between the two and Adam had been surprised to feel a pang in his heart. That fair-haired fop in the pictures wasn’t what a strong, independent, passionate woman like Isabel needed.

      “People are used to seeing me looking like a princess,” she replied and began to pace the small area in front of his chair.

      Each time she swept past Adam, her fragrance tickled his nose and tantalized his senses. “Trust me, I can make it so nobody will ever recognize me as Princess Isabel.”

      “It’s a foolish idea,” Adam replied curtly.

      “Why?” she shot back.

      It was one of the things he’d always admired about her, how she questioned authority, demanded rational explanations for decisions, and allowed herself to be open when those beneath her control did the same. It was also one of the things about her that irritated him.

      She stopped her pacing and stood just in front of him, that familiar perfume enveloping him. “Tell me why you think it’s foolish.”

      Because I don’t want anything to happen to you. Because I can’t imagine the world without you in it. Of course he didn’t say these things, would never, ever say these things.

      “You know what kind of a person Shane Moore was…he was dangerous, and I’d venture to guess that the people who were his associates, his friends and acquaintances are dangerous as well.”

      “Danger has never frightened me,” she scoffed.

      “And that’s why you shouldn’t do this,” he returned evenly. “You know what your father would want…he’d want you here, working safely behind the scenes, not on the front lines risking your life.”

      He knew he’d irritated her, reminding her of the subject of much tension and debate

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