overhead lights were on against the fading afternoon. He stood under one, his black hair glossy in the spill of light. He was motionless, feet apart and hands in pockets in a masculine stance that reinforced the air of tough capability she’d noticed from the first.
Her heart throbbed an agitated tattoo. How long had he silently watched her? Why did he look so grim?
More than that, she wondered, as she sat back in her seat, what was he doing here?
‘You’ve been working since seven-thirty this morning and you barely paused for lunch.’ He dragged his hands from his pockets and approached. ‘It’s time you stopped.’
Tamsin frowned. ‘You’re keeping tabs on me?’ She didn’t feel indignant. She was too busy grappling with surprise.
He shrugged those superb shoulders and she stifled rising awareness. ‘My staff have upped security given the importance of your find. I asked them to keep me informed.’
Informed of her meal breaks? Surely he had more on his mind than that? She opened her mouth to question him.
‘You’re translating?’ He leaned over, one broad hand on the desk just inches from the manuscript.
Unaccountably heat washed her as she stared at his long fingers splayed close to hers. His masculine scent made her draw a deep, appreciative breath.
‘Yes.’ She sat straighter. ‘It’s a fascinating document, even apart from the succession issue.’ She looked at the closely written text but all her attention was on the man who’d casually invaded her space.
‘And now you’ve finished for the day.’
For a long moment Tamsin debated. It wasn’t a question. She could contradict him and stay, working on the translation. Normally she worked much later. Yet her concentration had shattered. She found herself stretching, cramped muscles easing as she moved.
‘Yes. I’ve finished.’ She shoved her chair back and stood, busying herself packing up. By rights she should feel less overawed by him now she was on her feet. Instead, she inhaled his fresh scent as he leaned close and became aware of the way his body hemmed her in. It made her edgy.
‘Good. You’re free to come out.’
‘Out?’ Her brow knitted.
‘How long since you left the castle?’
‘I…’ There had been her walk down to the river a few days ago. Or had it been a week? She’d been too busy to count days. ‘I’ve been occupied lately.’
‘As I thought.’ He nodded. ‘Come on. Pack that up.’
‘I’m perfectly capable of getting fresh air myself.’
Eyes of dark sapphire held hers as he leaned across the desk. ‘I’m sure you are. You’re a most capable woman, Dr Connors.’
His mouth kicked up in a smile that lit his face and made her suck in her breath. The way he spoke her name, using her formal title as if it were an endearment, made her ridiculously flushed.
A warning bell clanged crazily in her head.
‘Why are you here?’ She braced her hands on the desk rather than lean towards that stunning smile. ‘What do you want?’
She was no bedazzled fool, no matter how her pulse pattered out of control and illicit excitement shimmied along her backbone. Men like Prince Alaric didn’t waste time on women like her. Women who weren’t glamorous or sexy. She’d learned the hard way where she stood with the opposite sex and she wasn’t making that mistake again.
‘You don’t pull your punches. I like your bluntness.’
Did he have any idea how gorgeous he looked, with laughter lines crinkling from his eyes and that conspiratorial grin turning rakishly handsome into devastatingly irresistible?
No wonder he had a reputation as a rogue. He’d only have to ask to get anything he wanted from a woman. The knowledge shored up her sagging defences.
She turned away to slip her notebook into a drawer.
‘I do want something. I have a proposition for you.’ She looked up, startled, and he raised a hand before she could interrupt. ‘But not here. It’s late. You need a break and I need to eat. I’ll show you some of our Ruvingian hospitality and we can discuss it after we’ve eaten.’
Instinct warned her something was amiss. There was no reason for a prince to take an employee to dine. Yet the sparkle in his eyes invited her to forget her misgivings and take a chance.
Curiosity gnawed. What sort of proposition? Something to do with the archives?
‘If you’d like someone to vouch for me…’ he began.
Her lips twitched. ‘Thank you, but no.’
Despite his easy charm there was a tension about his jaw that hinted at serious intent. Maybe what he had to say was important after all, not just a whim.
‘Some fresh air would be welcome. And some food.’ Suddenly she realised how hungry she was.
‘Excellent.’ He stepped back and the fragile sense of intimacy splintered. ‘Wear warm clothes and comfortable shoes. I’ll meet you by the garages in twenty minutes.’
‘I’ll see to this.’ But as she reached for the text he pulled cotton gloves from his pocket and picked it up.
‘I’ll take care of that. You go and get ready.’
He didn’t trust her to keep the chronicle safe. Last night he’d taken it away, saying he wanted it locked up. Disappointment was a plunging sensation inside her.
If he didn’t trust her with that, how could he trust her to do her job? And why would he have a proposition?
Tamsin felt completely out of place in the luxurious, low-slung car as it purred out of the cobbled courtyard and over the bridge that connected the castle with the steep mountain spur. A last glimpse of the castle, a floodlit fantasy with its beautiful, soaring towers, reinforced her sense of unreality. She slid her fingers over the soft leather upholstery, eyes wide as she took in the state of the art controls. She’d never been in a car like this.
Or spent time alone with a man like Prince Alaric.
In the confines of the vehicle he was impossible to ignore. So big and vital. Electricity charged the air so it buzzed and snapped. It was hard to breathe.
She told herself lack of food made her light-headed. She should have eaten lunch instead of skimping on an apple.
He nosed the car down a series of swooping bends and she risked a sideways look. A smile played around his mouth as if an icy road after dusk was just what he loved. His powerful hands moved easily on the wheel, with a fluid sureness that hinted he enjoyed tactile pleasures.
Tamsin shivered as an unfamiliar yearning hit her.
‘You’re cold?’
