and spouting a whole lot of nonsense?
‘No problem. But I would like a chance to talk further. Like I said, I need your help while I’m here. Let me check in, and perhaps we can meet when you’ve finished your shift, yes?’
‘No!’
Natasha lowered her voice, deriving some satisfaction from the surprised glint in those too-blue eyes. Good. Let him see how it felt to be on the receiving end of a few surprises for once. She’d had her quota for the day.
‘No?’
Schooling her face into what she hoped was a professional mask, she said, ‘What I meant was I’m busy here for the next few hours. It will be a while before I finish up.’ ‘No matter.’ He waved his hand as if her answer meant little, and she suddenly realised that though this guy didn’t look like a prince he had the commanding mannerisms down pat. ‘I will wait. I’m booked in as Dan Anders.’
Her mouth twitched, the first time she’d felt like smiling since this crazy, prince-impersonating-a-bad-boy had strode into her hotel.
‘Nice pseudonym.’
He shrugged, and she stared at those muscles again, the way they bunched and shifted beneath the cotton T-shirt, and she wondered if they felt as firm as they looked.
‘Dante Andretti, Dan Anders. I chose something similar not to confuse myself.’
His self-deprecating grin displayed a row of even white teeth, made more startling by his sensational tan.
She knew pictures often didn’t do their subjects justice. In the prince’s case, he should have the royal photographer shot.
The guy was gorgeous, impressively so. And for a girl who had sworn off guys after Clay that was saying something.
So she wasn’t blind. She could look, couldn’t she? Like window shopping; you didn’t have to touch—oops, she meant buy—the merchandise!
‘Why don’t we meet in the Lobby Bar for a coffee around four-thirty? I have plans at five.’
There was no way she’d be popping into this guy’s room for a rendezvous, prince or not. She had a reputation to uphold in this place, not to mention the fact he unnerved her with that steady, blue-eyed stare.
He shrugged. ‘Fine. I’m not surprised a beautiful woman like you would have plans.’
Okay, so she could add charm to his list of impressive attributes.
‘Right,’ she said, suddenly flustered when he didn’t look away, her hands fiddling with the stress ball behind the desk. ‘We’ll talk about this more then, but let me tell you, I’m not happy about this situation. I don’t like lies, I don’t like subterfuge, and having you stay at our hotel is important for business.’
On and on she babbled, hating the way his mouth curved deliciously at the corners, the way his eyes glinted with amusement, and the way she kept noticing inconsequential details like that.
She was making a fool of herself, sounding like an uptight schoolmarm scolding a recalcitrant kid. She always did that when she was nervous, getting all defensive and huffy. Ella teased her about it. Sadly, she spent too much time these days on the defensive.
‘We’ll talk about this business later, then, Miss Telford.’
‘Call me Natasha,’ she said, a blush heating her cheeks for some inexplicable reason. Gee, it wasn’t like she was telling him to call her for a date or anything!
‘Dante.’
His polite nod reaffirmed what she’d thought earlier: you could take the bad boy out of the prince but you couldn’t take the prince out of the bad boy.
‘See you at four-thirty.’
She managed a tight smile, the type of smile that made her teeth ache with the effort. This cloak and dagger business with Dante reeked of trouble.
Big trouble.
And she’d had enough of that lately to last a lifetime.
CHAPTER TWO
DANTE cast subtle glances Natasha’s way while an efficient young woman checked him in.
She intrigued him.
He was used to subservience, deference and awe when people learned his identity, but the stunning brunette hadn’t batted an eyelid. In fact, she’d grown more prickly, tension radiating off her in palpable waves.
She didn’t like him.
That much was obvious, and he wanted to know why. Maybe she had a hang-up about wealth? Or maybe his title?
No matter. The minute he’d set foot in the hotel, he’d known he would need the concierge onside if he was to perpetrate his plan. The fact the concierge was a gorgeous woman with caramel eyes, long legs and a fabulous body behind that frumpy dark green uniform just made his task all the easier.
Not that he could rely on charming the woman to his way of thinking. If anything, she’d give him a hard time, he just knew it. Her little holier-than-thou speech had been a dead giveaway that Miss Natasha Telford wouldn’t stand for any hanky-panky. Not that he had any in mind. Not really…
‘Here’s your welcome pack, Mr Anders. The card for your room is inside. Enjoy your stay at Telford Towers.’
He smiled his thanks at the young woman behind the check-in desk, grabbed his key and headed for the lifts.
Of course, it wasn’t his fault he had to pass directly in front of the concierge’s desk again, and it definitely wasn’t his fault that the sexy concierge chose that exact moment to look up.
He gave her his best smile, the one his mother said could rule Calida alone, and a half salute, enjoying the faint blush staining her cheeks.
So, she wasn’t immune to a little charm after all?
He’d have to remember that.
His plan to remain anonymous on the first leg of his trip might depend on it.
Natasha rifled through her wardrobe, flicking past formal dresses, sundresses, skirts and casual trousers before coming to rest on her favourite pair of jeans. At times like this, being super-organised—or obsessively tidy, as Ella liked to tease—was a definite plus. She’d dithered long enough.
Sliding the worn denim off the hanger, she wriggled into them, noting with irony the only good thing Clay had left her with was a slimmer figure. Stressing out over what he’d cost her and her family had shed pounds by the bucketful, and she’d never been so thin.
After slipping a fitted pink singlet top over her head, pulling her hair back in a low ponytail, fixing silver hoops in her ears and sliding her feet into black wedges, she stood back and stared in the floor-length mirror behind the door.
Her favourite outfit, the type of outfit that made her feel good, that gave her confidence.
