would be helpful, thank you.’ Charlie remembered something else that was bothering her. ‘What about the dancing?’
‘Ah, yes.’ Rafe frowned. ‘I should have thought about that earlier. Can you waltz?’
‘No, not really. I mean—we learnt a little ballroom dancing at school and I’ve watched people waltzing on TV. I know it’s basically one-two-three, one-two-three, but—’ Charlie grimaced awkwardly. ‘I don’t suppose there’ll be any disco dancing?’
Rafe smiled. ‘There’ll be some, I should imagine. But you’ll be expected to know how to waltz.’
‘Could Olivia waltz?’
‘Yes. She’s quite a good dancer, I must admit.’
Damn. ‘Any chance we could have a bit of practice before tomorrow night?’
‘Of course,’ Rafe said without hesitation.
It was silly to feel so self-conscious, almost blushing at the thought of dancing in his arms, their bodies lightly brushing.
‘You don’t want to start worrying about that now, though,’ he said. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow evening, say an hour early, before the ball, and we can have a little practice. Your room’s carpeted, so it won’t be the same as dancing on a proper dance floor, but at least we can run through the basics. I’m sure you’ll pick it up very quickly.’
‘OK. Thank you.’
The charming meal was a lovely end to a perfect day. All too quickly, it seemed to Charlie, it was time for Rafe to leave. He rose from the sofa, taking both her hands in his and drawing her to her feet.
Her heart began a silly kind of drumming.
Stop it.
‘Thanks for giving up so much time to be with me today,’ she said. ‘It’s been—’ She was about to tell him it had been wonderful, a stand-out, red-letter day that she would never forget. But perhaps over-the-top enthusiasm wasn’t wise at this point. It was time to remind herself that this was only a role that she was being paid to fulfil.
Instead of gushing, she said carefully, ‘I appreciated your company. It was—very nice.’
‘Very nice?’ Rafe repeated in a tone that implied she had somehow insulted him.
‘Well...yes.’
Leave it at that, Charlie. Too bad if he’s disappointed. It’s important to keep your head.
Perhaps Rafe understood. He responded with a courteous nod. ‘I enjoyed the day, too. You’re great company, Charlie, and I was very pleased to share the good news about your little sister.’
It felt strained to be so formal after the closeness they’d shared today, but Charlie told herself that this new, careful politeness was desirable. This was how matters must be between herself and the Prince. Even though Rafe was still holding her hands, it was time to retreat from being overly familiar.
It was time to remember the reality of their situation. She was only a temporary fill-in until Olivia was found—or until Olivia returned of her own accord.
Charlie was pleased to have her thoughts sorted on this matter, but then Rafe spoiled everything by clasping her hands more tightly and holding them against his chest.
Big mistake. She could feel his heart beating beneath her palm.
In response, her own heart was hammering. She tried to ignore it.
‘You’re a very special girl,’ he said with a wry smile. ‘Note I said special, not just very nice.’
‘Special is open to interpretation,’ Charlie said more curtly than she meant to.
‘So it is.’ Rafe lifted her hands to his lips. ‘Perhaps you’d prefer nice?’ Keeping his grey gaze locked with hers, he kissed her hand, and his lips traced a seductive path over her knuckles.
Of course, Charlie’s skin burned and tingled wherever his lips touched, and she knew what would come next. At any moment, Rafe would take her into his arms again and he would kiss her. Already, she could imagine the exquisite devastation of his lips meeting hers.
She had never wanted a kiss more, but she had to remember why this shouldn’t happen.
‘D-don’t play with me, Rafe.’
He frowned as he stared at her, trying to read her.
Time seemed to stand still.
And poor Charlie was already regretting her plea, as the wicked vamp inside her longed for Rafe to go on kissing her hands, kissing her mouth, kissing any part of her that took his fancy.
But he was letting her hands go. ‘Forgive me, Charlie. I did not intend to take liberties.’
It was ridiculous to feel so disappointed. Charlie knew she should be relieved that her message had got through to the playboy Prince.
‘I’ll see you at breakfast in the morning,’ he said politely. ‘Sleep well.’
With another formal bow, he backed out of the room, but the blazing signal in his eyes was anything but formal, and there was no way Charlie could miss its message. She only had to say the word and Rafe would drop the formalities. In a heartbeat, she would be in his arms, in his bed, discovering what it was like to make love to a prince. All night long.
Somehow, she stood super still until the door closed behind him.
Oh, help. Now she would have the devil’s own job getting to sleep.
NEXT MORNING, WHEN Charlie went down to the breakfast room, she half expected to find that Rafe had left already, but he was still at the table, polishing off a croissant stuffed with smoked salmon and scrambled eggs. After a restless night, she felt a little uncertain about his mood, but he greeted her with a smile.
‘Bonjour, Olivia.’
‘Bonjour,’ she responded carefully, knowing there were servants within hearing range.
Rafe immediately shot a pointed glance towards the newspaper on the table beside him.
The headline jumped out at Charlie.
OLIVIA LOOKS FORWARD TO MOTHERHOOD!
She gasped, caught Rafe’s eye. He gave a helpless shrug.
The headline was accompanied by a photo of Charlie standing in the hospital’s nursery in her new black and white polka-dot dress, holding the snugly wrapped baby and gazing at it wistfully, while Rafe watched with a smile that might easily be interpreted as fond.
The accompanying story began: Olivia Belaire’s motherly instincts were on clear display yesterday when she and Prince Rafael visited Montaigne’s Royal Children’s Hospital...
Charlie
