in an assassination attempt. It’d fractured their family.
His twin, Alexandro, blamed himself for the murder and had assumed the role of protector. Their father had grown quiet and reserved, spending all of his time working. Demetrius had gone a bit wild, living life to its fullest. He never thought any of them would be happy again.
Then last year, his brother had led the paparazzi on a wild chase to the United States to divert attention from Demetrius’s elopement to Zoe. And his brother’s daring plan had worked...sort of. While in the States, Alex had fallen in love and married an American. Somewhere during all of this, they’d started to act like a family again—sharing meals and catching up on each other’s lives. And he couldn’t lose that. Not again.
But now being here with Zoe, he realized he’d made a huge mistake by thinking they could work side by side. His gaze strayed to her. She was answering some more questions about her profession for the reporter.
His gaze skimmed down over her, noticing on closer inspection that her clothes hung a bit loose. Had she lost weight in the time they were apart? She had been slender when he knew her. The fact that she’d lost weight was worrying. He hoped she wasn’t sick. He studied her face. She didn’t look ill.
As he continued to stare at her, he felt the draw of attraction as strong now as it had been back when they were together. Was it possible she was even more beautiful today than she had been when he’d pledged his heart to her? His gaze slipped to her full lips—
Realizing the direction of his straying thoughts, he jerked them to a halt. No matter how tempting he still found her, he refused to fall for her charms again. His foolish behavior had already cost him so much.
“We’re almost done.” The reporter clasped her hands together. “I just need a couple more candid shots for the website. Could you both move to the edge of the steps?”
While they moved into the designated positions on the top step, he chanced another glance Zoe’s way. Her lips lifted at the corners. However, her smile didn’t quite reach her brown eyes. He wasn’t about to complain. At least she was playing along.
“Can you shake hands?”
With anyone else, the request would have been simple, but Zoe was not just anyone. She was most definitely someone—someone he was over. His jaw tightened. So then why was he making such a big deal out of this?
He extended his hand to her.
There was a moment’s hesitation. Her gaze met his, but he couldn’t read what she was thinking. When her hand slipped into his, there was a jolt—no, it was more like a lightning bolt—of awareness that coursed between them.
It means nothing.
She means nothing.
It’s all in my imagination.
“Hold that pose.” The reporter turned and frowned at the camera guy. “What’s the problem? Don’t keep the prince waiting.”
The photographer waved over the reporter. With a flustered look on Ms. Russo’s face, she uttered an apology and rushed down the steps to straighten out the problem.
“Are you really planning to oversee this project personally?” Zoe’s gaze was hard and cold.
He lowered his voice to a whisper. “Why wouldn’t I? This is my project. Surely you know that.”
“I know that they were bandying your name about when I was hired, but I figured they were just trying to impress me. I had no idea you could actually be persuaded to take part in this venture.”
He wanted to take offense. He wanted to assure her that he was always on top of things. But then again, not so long ago, he’d had his priorities all turned around. Back then, he’d only been worried about his personal happiness. Even as a teenager, he’d known that once he stepped up and took his rightful place in the monarchy that his life would not be his own. So he’d put off the inevitable as long as possible.
He kept his voice low. “Things have changed since you knew me.”
“You act like we were just strangers that passed in the night.”
Demetrius cleared his throat. Using the same voice he used when his advisors didn’t agree with him, he whispered, “This revitalization project is important. There’s a whole lot more at stake than just my reputation—”
“Sorry about that.” Ms. Russo joined them again. “My cameraman had a problem with the equipment. We need to film the part where you shake hands again.” Hesitantly they joined hands while Ms. Russo smiled. “This is great! The viewers will love it. This will definitely add a sense of hands-on attention by the prince.”
Hands-on. The words conjured up the memory of Zoe in his arms. Demetrius schooled his facial features to keep the unintended meaning of the reporter’s words from showing. He didn’t dare look at Zoe. He didn’t want to do anything to bring about a reaction in her. After all, how was he supposed to smile and relax while standing next to the one woman that he thought he could trust above all others?
“Can you look at each other?”
Demetrius reluctantly gazed at Zoe. Her gaze was closed and guarded. She was none too excited about this unexpected reunion, either. Well, good, he was more than willing to share the discomfort, although it didn’t come close to the agony he’d experience after she’d run out on him.
“Good. Good.” The reporter’s voice held a happy tone. Obviously she was the only one happy about this encounter. “Now could you continue to shake hands while talking about the project? We need a sound bite—one showing you two working together. A team effort.”
Demetrius cleared his throat. “Grazie. Your presence is appreciated.”
There was a pause and Demetrius tensed, waiting and wondering what Zoe would say.
“I’m honored to have been chosen for this very special project.”
“We are the lucky ones to have your talent to create a stunning retreat for the residents of this facility to forget about their lives—their problems—and just relax in the common rooms of this historic building.”
There was the slightest flash of emotion in Zoe’s eyes, but in a blink it was gone. “I hope to live up to your expectations.”
He’d give her credit. She was keeping this professional. Then again, he could never fault Zoe for acting anything but mature and professional. Otherwise they’d have never been able to maintain a relationship that was out of sight of the paparazzi. Which left him with a question that had been nagging him since she’d left him—why hadn’t she sold her story—their story—to the tabloids?
His gaze narrowed in on the woman standing before him. He didn’t understand her any more now than he did before. Perhaps he understood her even less. His advisors had insisted she was holding out for a bigger payday—bigger than the check he’d insisted on sending with the annulment papers. Was that why she’d never signed and returned the papers?
He withdrew his hand and turned to the reporter. “Ms. Sarris needs to get on with her work.”
Zoe thanked both
