The King's Captive Virgin. Natalie Anderson
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He had not lifted his unyielding stare from her face and she knew he was watching the heated colour mottling her skin. Too late she realised that he knew. He saw right thought her and knew the appalling direction her thoughts had taken. And too late she realised the innuendo so blatantly obvious in the question she’d so innocently asked.
‘I’m not about to act inappropriately with you,’ he said, very slowly and softly. ‘I do have a modicum of self-control.’
He had self-control? Did that mean he wanted to act inappropriately with her? She was so shocked she simply couldn’t speak.
He took a step closer, his voice lowering further still. ‘You need to come to the palace. My assistant will bring you there immediately.’
No. Every instinct warned her against being alone with him. Because even being with him here in public like this was causing a reaction within her that wasn’t normal. Not for her.
Emotion surged—fury coalesced with fear and summoned rebellion. She didn’t care who he was. She wasn’t going to blindly do as she was told.
‘I don’t get into cars with strangers,’ she said as calmly as she could. ‘I don’t go anywhere without knowing why.’
He regarded her steadily, that arrogant tilt curling his lips. ‘Are you defying the express orders of your King?’
She sucked in a breath and replied before thinking clearly. ‘Are you abusing your position of power to control me?’
His mouth opened and then closed. His nostrils flared as he exhaled. ‘Yes,’ he said with carefully controlled quietness. ‘In this situation I will do whatever it takes to get what I need from you.’
This time her jaw dropped. ‘I don’t see that there’s anything I can do—’
‘But you don’t see everything, do you?’ he said sharply. ‘You don’t know.’
‘Then tell me.’
‘We haven’t the time to waste—’
‘Then put me in chains,’ she snapped. ‘That’s the only way you’ll get me to leave with you.’
Her defiance shocked her. She’d never stood up to anyone so overtly. She worked hard and did as she was told—kept out of trouble and tried to stay invisible to men. But the arrogance of this man was bringing out a side she’d not known she had. Not a good one.
Determinedly she held his stare—and something flickered in his green eyes. She realised he was imagining it—her in chains—and he was enjoying the vision. The heat swamping her now was intolerable, and she dragged in a searing breath as wayward nerves deep within her body fizzed into life.
But suddenly he straightened, and in a blink that cold hostility returned to his expression.
‘I need your help with a personal matter,’ he said irritably. ‘That is all I am prepared to discuss while we are in a public place. Does that satisfy your safety concerns?’
She was lost for words. How could she possibly help him with a personal matter?
His gaze narrowed. ‘Have I given you reason not to trust me?’
‘I don’t trust anyone,’ she answered honestly.
Not intimately. And she certainly didn’t trust him. King Giorgos had a good reputation—he was serious, intense, and it was known that he worked hard and long hours—but that edginess he carried, and the unexpected, unexplained demand he was making...
Her body was sending out all kinds of chaos signals—the shivers down her spine, the speed of her pulse, the breathlessness, the heat. Maybe she was coming down with something. But, no, in her gut she didn’t trust anyone—not him, and now she was beginning not to trust herself.
His smile was slow and not very reassuring. ‘No doubt you have your reasons.’
Of course she did. ‘Several,’ she replied coldly.
He offered nothing more than a dismissive shrug. ‘Regardless of your hesitation, we need to leave.’
She shook her head. ‘I have to finish my shift.’
‘Leaving a few minutes early will make little difference. Your manager has already been informed.’
Shocked, she stared up at him, registering his planning. He hadn’t come to the hospital to visit patients and to spread cheer.
‘I came here for you.’ He quietly confirmed her thinking. ‘And I’m not leaving without you. If I have to get my security team to forcibly remove you, then that’s what I will do.’
‘No, you won’t,’ she challenged him—because this she did know. ‘You care too much about what people think.’
King Giorgos was remote and dignified and there’d never been a breath of scandal about him. He was Giorgos the Perfect, while his sister was Eleni the Pure.
He blinked rapidly. ‘I beg your pardon?’
‘You’re the hard-working, serious King who can do no wrong.’
‘You do realise you’re insulting that “hard-working, serious King” to his face?’
‘Because he is doing wrong. You can’t make me go with you.’
‘I can—because this is too important. We are leaving,’ he ordered. ‘Walk with me now.’
‘You’re serious?’
He took another step closer—a shade too far into her personal space. ‘Are you going to make me get the chains? Because if that’s really what you want, then of course I wouldn’t dream of disappointing a lady.’
His sneer was mortifying. That humiliating blush burned again. She hadn’t meant it about the chains, yet here he was implying that she was doing this only to...to flirt? She never flirted.
What was wrong with her? This man made all the rules—he owned the nation...his face was on the currency—and she was snapping at him like some schoolgirl with an immature crush.
‘Of course not.’ She avoided his eyes and muttered contritely, ‘I’ll just get my bag and then we can leave.’
She was startled when he kept pace with her as she went into the small office.
‘Why are you following me?’
‘I’m not giving you a chance to hide anything or any time alone to contact him.’
Contact who? She stared at him uncomprehendingly.
‘Just get your things,’ he muttered.
It finally dawned on her that this had to be a case of mistaken identity—he’d confused her with someone else and there was nothing she could help him with.