eyes flashed with anger. ‘You’re assuming she isn’t going back to my place. You’re assuming she’s not my live-in girlfriend.’
‘Is she?’ Without waiting for an answer he turned sharply to her, silver eyes pinning her to the spot. ‘Are you?’
The two words were bullet-sharp.
‘That’s not the point,’ Jules interjected aggressively.
‘Either she is or she isn’t. Answer the question,’ he demanded, without taking his eyes off her.
Very much aware that she had no clue what was going on, Maddie went with the truth. ‘No, we’re not living together.’
Jules’s jaw clenched, but she shrugged it off. If he wanted to give the impression that they were more serious he should have told her. She was uncomfortable enough about the subterfuge as it was.
‘Your driver will take you to your hotel, Jules,’ the stranger said, glancing pointedly at the hand Jules had on her arm.
Jules muttered a very rude, very French curse. One he intended the man to hear. One that produced a flash of anger in his silver eyes before his expression was ruthlessly blanked.
Without warning Jules yanked her close, cupped the back of her head before slamming his mouth down on hers.
The kiss was over in seconds, but the shocking violation kept Maddie frozen for longer. Stunned, and more than a little incensed, she watched Jules leave without a backward glance, strongly resisting the urge to swipe her hand across her mouth.
She knew he’d kissed her for effect, to annoy the domineering man standing before her, whose gaze was now a darker silver as it swept over cheeks gone pale before returning to her mouth. And she knew, despite the burning urge to rub off the last trace of that kiss, it would be a dead giveaway that might cost her a lot in the long run.
So she raised her chin, met eyes that blazed with a fierce light she couldn’t fathom.
‘Come,’ he said abruptly. Then, like Jules, he turned and walked out.
Maddie shook her head once to clear it. When nothing altered the sensation of having just experienced a furious electric storm, she stumbled back on shaky legs to her seat.
She had no intention of following that arrogant, dangerously compelling man anywhere. The only place she was headed was home, to the flat she shared with her father. To the safety and discomfort of her single bed.
Excited chatter and camera phones aimed her way hastened her movements. She still had no clear idea what had transpired a few minutes ago, but she wasn’t sticking around to be the cynosure of all eyes.
She’d have enough to deal with come morning anyway. For one, she had to ensure her father got through another day without succumbing to the addiction that had decimated not just his life but the relatively carefree family life she’d taken for granted.
She pushed harrowing thoughts of her father’s addiction and her mother’s desertion aside, stood up—and was met with a wall of muscle.
‘Miss? Come with me, please.’
It was one of the superior bodyguards. Far from assuming the stranger had accepted she had no intention of following, he’d left a minder behind to ensure she obeyed his command.
The chatter was rising. Curious looks and pointing fingers were aimed at her as she scrambled to find a way around her dilemma.
Stay here and deal with the gossip-hungry pack, or go outside and deal with the even more dangerous predator who had made every nerve in her body zing to life?
‘Oh, my God, did you actually see him?’
‘He’s like...a god!’
‘I could actually drop dead from how drop-dead gorgeous he is!’
‘Who is she, anyway?’
That last question propelled her feet forward, fuelled by the distinct impression that the bodyguard wasn’t above physically bundling her up and delivering her to his master.
Outside, the sleekest, shiniest black limousine idled at the kerb. The shiver that lanced through her when she spotted it had nothing to do with the chilled late-March air.
As she drew closer the driver, standing to attention, swung the back door open.
The interior light was off, so all Maddie saw with the aid of the streetlights were long, trouser-clad masculine legs and polished shoes.
‘Get in, Miss Myers.’ The instruction was deep, resolute and throbbed with impatience.
She was a few dozen yards from Soho’s bustling main street. Her legs were strong enough to outrun the bodyguards...
‘Take my advice and don’t bother.’ The suggestion was an arrogant drawl, wrapped in steel.
With every fibre of her being Maddie wanted to refuse. But she knew it would be futile. Whoever he was, unmistakable power and authority oozed from him. Plus, his bodyguards were in prime condition.
So, with a snatched breath, she climbed in. The earlier she got this over and done with, the quicker she could go home, she told herself. She needed to be at work in a few short hours.
The moment she slid into the car, the door shut behind her.
For tense seconds she withstood those eerie eyes glinting at her, withstood the need to glance at him and pretended interest in the luxury interior and the long, soft leather bench seat. But inevitably her gaze was drawn to him, like an unwitting moth to a flame. Again his gaze dropped to her mouth before rising to meet hers, leaving her shaky and tingling all over again.
Enough of this.
‘Who are you and how do you know who I am?’ she demanded, when it became clear he was just going to stare at her with those electric eyes.
The question seemed to startle him. Then his head went back in a manner that could only be termed exceptionally regal.
‘My name is Remirez Alexander Montegova, Crown Prince of the Kingdom of Montegova. I know who you are because I have an excellent team of private investigators who make it their job to furnish me with that kind of information. Now you will tell me how much it will take for you walk away from my brother.’
‘YOUR BROTHER?’ MADDIE cringed at the squeak in her voice.
‘Technically, half-brother. We share the same father.’ His voice was coated in dark ice.
She shook her head, confused. ‘But...but his name is Jules Montagne. And he’s French.’
Whereas this man’s accent was an enthralling mix of Italian, French and Spanish.
