good knock-off of a French designer whose couture originals took up considerable hanging space in her apartment-sized humidity-controlled closet back at the palace before they were moved on to auction.
‘Thank you,’ she said, inordinately pleased at the compliment. ‘What do you import and export?’ she asked, deflecting his attention from her.
‘High-end foods and liquor,’ he said. ‘It takes me all around the world.’
She nodded. ‘Hence your work with Party Queens?’
‘Exactly,’ he said.
She finished her champagne at the same time he did, then placed her glass on the wide veranda railing. Someone would be along to pick it up.
But Finn reached for it. ‘I’ll put that glass somewhere safer,’ he said.
Mistake, she thought as he took the glasses and placed them on a table just inside the doorway. Regular girl Natalie would not be used to household staff picking up after her.
Finn was back within seconds. ‘Tell me, Natalie, are you here with a partner?’
He glanced at the bare fingers of her left hand—without realising he did so, she thought. She did the same to him. No rings there either.
‘No partner,’ she said.
‘Good,’ he said, with a decisiveness that thrilled her.
‘Either here at the wedding or in my life.’
‘Me neither,’ he said. ‘Single. Never married.’
Her spine tingled at this less than subtle trumpeting of his single status. She was single and available too. For today.
Maybe for tonight.
‘Likewise,’ she said.
This handsome, handsome man must be thirtyish. How had such a catch evaded matrimony?
‘D’you think they’ve put us at the singles table for the meal?’ he asked.
‘I have no idea,’ she said. ‘I... I hope so.’
‘If they haven’t I’ll switch every place card in the room to make sure we’re seated together.’
She laughed. ‘Seriously?’
‘Absolutely. Why wouldn’t I want to sit with the most beautiful woman at the wedding?’
She laughed again. ‘You flatter me.’
He was suddenly very serious. ‘There’s no flattery. I noticed you as soon as you walked across the grass to take your seat. I couldn’t keep my eyes off you.’
She could act coy, not admit that she’d noticed him too, flirt a little, play hard to get... But she’d never met a man like him. Never felt that instant tug of attraction. And time was in very short supply.
‘I noticed you too,’ she said simply.
For a long moment she looked up into his eyes—up close a surprising sea-green—and he looked down into hers. His gaze was serious, intent, totally focused on her. The air between them shimmered with possibility. Her heart set up a furious beating. She felt giddy with the awareness that she could be on the edge of something momentous, something life-changing. He frowned as if puzzled. Did he feel it too?
‘Natalie, I—’
But before he could say any more Gemma came up the steps, Tristan hovering solicitously behind her. Her sister-in-law smiled politely, as if Natalia were just another guest, although her eyes gleamed with the knowledge of their shared secret. Tristan’s nod gave his sister a subtle warning. Be careful. As if she needed it. She was only too aware of her duty.
Duty. Duty. Duty. It had governed her life from the moment she was born. Duty to her family, to the Crown, to her country. What about her duty to herself? Her needs, her wants, her happiness? She was twenty-seven years old and she’d toed the line for too long. If she wanted to flirt with the most gorgeous man she had met in a long time—perhaps ever—she darn well would, and duty be damned.
She took a step closer to Finn. Smiled up at him as Tristan went past. The rigid set of her brother’s shoulders was the only sign that he had noticed her provocative gesture. But Finn mistook her smile for amusement.
‘I know,’ he said. ‘It isn’t every day you go to a wedding where the groomsman is a prince and the bridesmaid a princess and everyone is pretending they’re regular folk like you or me. That’s despite the security detail both out on the road and down on the water to keep the media scrum at bay.’
‘Bizarre, isn’t it?’ she said lightly.
In fact, it was rare that she went to a wedding where the bride and groom weren’t royalty or high-ranking aristocracy. This wedding between people without rank was somewhat of a novelty.
‘Bizarre, but kinda fun,’ Finn said. ‘When else would our paths cross so closely with royalty? Even if the Prince is from some obscure kingdom no one has ever heard of.’
Obscure? Natalia was about to huff in defence of her country. Montovia might be small, in both land mass and population, but it was wealthy, influential and punched above its weight on matters of state. But for today she was just plain Natalie—not Princess Natalia. And she wanted to enjoy the company of this very appealing Aussie guy without getting into any kind of debate that might give the game away.
‘A prince is a prince, I guess, wherever he hails from,’ she said.
‘And a princess always adds a certain glamour to an occasion,’ Finn said drily.
‘Indeed,’ she said.
A smile twitched at the corners of her mouth. If only he knew.
‘Talking of fun...let’s go inside and swap those place cards if we need to,’ she said.
‘Yes, ma’am,’ he said.
Startled, she almost corrected him. Ma’am was a term of address reserved for her mother, the Queen, not her. But of course he was only using the word generically. She really had to stay on the alert if she were to successfully keep up the act.
She went to tuck her hand into his arm but decided against it. If she touched him—even the slightest touch—she wasn’t sure how she’d react. She’d only known Finn O’Neill for a matter of minutes but she already knew she wanted him.
He could be the one.
FINN FOLLOWED NATALIE along the veranda towards the ballroom of the sandstone mansion where the formal part of the wedding reception would shortly take place. He couldn’t take his eyes off her shapely swaying hips. How could she walk so surely and confidently in those sky-high heels? Maybe it was the sexy shoes
