rush of air whispered over her skin, but even that small change caused her to gasp as if he’d physically laid his hands on her.
‘Maybe, but something tells me I can trust you,’ she replied, her nerves jangling with terror at the uncharted waters she found herself in. Flirting and sexual games had never been her forte. Not since her one attempt at university had ended in humiliating disaster.
Another step brought Prince Reyes within touching distance. His narrowed eyes, still holding that trace of sadness she’d glimpsed earlier, were now laced with a healthy dose of bitterness.
Jasmine didn’t have time to dwell on his expression because his scent engulfed her, fuelling her already frenzied senses. She inhaled, filling her entire being with his essence. As if he sensed it too, his nostrils flared.
‘You’re playing a dangerous game, Jasmine,’ he murmured.
‘It...it’s just a lift back to my h-hotel,’ she croaked.
‘Perhaps. Or it is something else. Something neither of us is ready for.’ His voice was pitched low, for her ears alone. His gaze slid over her face, its path as forceful and yet as gentle as a silky caress.
‘I’ll be out of your hair in less than half an hour. Seriously, you have nothing to fear from me.’ Liar. She tried to curb the accusing voice, thankful when it faded away under the onslaught of the heavy emotion beating in her chest.
His jaw tightened. ‘I have everything to fear from you.’ Again the bitterness, sharper this time. ‘The curse of a beautiful woman has been my ancestors’ downfall.’
She forced a laugh. Beautiful? Her? Well, if he could flatter, so could she. ‘So prove it’s not true. Deliver me to my hotel and walk away. Then you’ll be free of this...curse.’
He tilted his head to one side, as if weighing her request. His hand rose again, this time to reach down to encircle her wrist.
With a subtle but firm tug, he pulled her to him.
‘If walking away resolved centuries-old issues, my kingdom wouldn’t be in shambles.’
‘I didn’t mean—’
He pulled her closer. Jasmine was too mesmerised by this enigmatic man to acknowledge the curious stares of the guests beyond the protective circle of Prince Reyes’s bodyguards. And he didn’t seem too disturbed by their growing audience.
His stare turned into a frown. ‘You intrigue me, Jasmine Nichols.’
‘Is that a bad thing?’
He stepped back and he seemed to come to a decision. ‘I’m not certain, but I wish to find out. Come.’
* * *
Reyes Navarre drew a deep breath.
What in Dios’s name was he doing? Not since Anaïs had he behaved so rashly. His carefree period of picking up liaisons for a night had come to a jagged halt five years ago when he’d experienced for himself just how duplicitous women could be. His own mother had hammered that lesson home forcefully in the weeks before her death.
Overnight, Reyes had witnessed the family he’d foolishly thought he could bring together disintegrate beyond recognition. He’d watched the will to live slowly extinguish from his father’s eyes until only a husk remained.
Reyes’s chest tightened painfully with equal parts of remorse and bitterness. Remorse that grew each day because he knew he’d failed to grant his father, King Carlos, his one wish—an heir to the throne while he was still alive. Bitterness because his father had condemned Reyes for choosing to learn from past mistakes. What his father didn’t know was the woman Reyes had thought would be his queen had turned out to be just as conniving and as faithless as his own mother.
The double blow had made abstinence a far better prospect. One he’d embraced and pushed to the back of his mind when his father’s health had worsened.
But tonight...
He glanced at the woman whose delicate scent filled every corner of the limo.
She hadn’t spoken since they’d driven away from the banquet, but Reyes had caught the fleeting glances she sent his way every now and then. Just as he’d glimpsed the little darts of her tongue at the corner of mouth when her gaze fell on him.
She did it again, just then. A different sort of tightening seized his body.
Grinding his teeth, Reyes forced himself to examine why Jasmine Nichols intrigued him. Perhaps it was being away from Santo Sierra for the first time in over a year. Perhaps it was the knowledge that, after months of tough negotiations, Mendez had finally agreed to sign the trade treaty.
Or it could be that he just needed to let himself feel something other than bitterness and recrimination...to experience a moment of oblivion before the relentless pressure of his birthright settled back on his shoulders.
Whatever the reason, he didn’t stop himself from pressing the intercom that connected him to the driver.
‘Take us to the boat,’ he instructed.
Jasmine immediately turned to him. ‘You’re not taking me to my hotel?’ Her voice held a touch of trepidation but no hint of panic.
She knew the score.
As he should.
Except he didn’t.
He was acting out of character. Had been from the moment he saw her.
His smile felt strained. ‘You owe me a drink, I believe. I’m choosing to take it before I have you delivered to your hotel, not after.’
‘Just in case I renege? You’re not very trusting, are you?’
The twinge in his chest stung deeper, but he refused to acknowledge it. ‘No, I’m not.’
Her eyes widened and she looked away. ‘Are we really going to your boat?’ she asked with a curious note in her voice.
‘Yes.’
Reyes remembered she didn’t like boats. Was that why he’d brought her to his yacht instead of the royal suite that awaited him at the Four Seasons? Was he hoping she would quail at the sight of the big floating palace and ask to be returned to her hotel?
Or had he brought her here for his own selfish reasons? Because, for some reason, focusing on her made his tumultuous feelings subside just a little?
All through the interminable dinner, he’d watched her, his gaze unable to stray from her for more than a few seconds because every time it had, he’d felt the darkness encroaching.
He watched her now from the corner of his eye, waiting for a reaction. But her hands remained folded in her lap, her gaze on the large vessel they’d pulled up to.
Unfortunately his thoughts and emotions suffered no such languor or calm. They churned in rhythm to the heavy pounding of his heart at what was to come.
Thoughts of sating himself on a woman had been pushed
