she has,’ said Rupert, as if she were some kind of performing animal. ‘In fact, she’s lived here all her life.’
Xaviero turned to her then, registering the automatic dilation of her blue eyes in response to his stare, and he felt a slow beat of satisfaction. Yes, she would be his. And before the day was out, too. Because this inconvenient hunger must be fed if he was to be rid of it. ‘Good. Then she will be my guide while I am here.’
Cathy’s lips parted and she stared at him in horror. ‘But…but I’m not qualified as any kind of guide,’ she protested in a voice which suddenly sounded squeaky.
‘So?’ challenged Xaviero, on a silken drawl.
‘Surely…’ Cathy swallowed as she twisted her fingers together. It mustn’t happen. He can’t mean it to happen. ‘Surely you should have someone who is properly specially trained in royal protection, Your Highness.’
Xaviero’s suggestion had been carelessly made—it would have meant nothing for him to retract it—but her objection secured his determination to have her. By expressing a wish to make herself inaccessible, she had sealed her fate. For a man who had spent his lifetime having his wishes met, it was the almost unheard-of protest which always intrigued him. Suddenly, the eager little blonde was not so eager any more!
‘How very thoughtful of you to be so concerned about my welfare,’ he murmured sardonically, ‘but I want a guide, not a bodyguard. And someone with local knowledge is always much more useful than one of my own people.’
Cathy flinched. Useful. He had called her useful. It was the kind of word you might use to describe the pair of rubber gloves you wore when you were washing up. A deeply unflattering description, but maybe that had been his intention. Had he chosen it with malice and care? She glanced over at Rupert. Can’t you do it? her eyes begged him. ‘And besides, I work here,’ she said. ‘I…I can’t just disappear at the drop of a hat to be your guide.’
‘Of course you can,’ Rupert said, completely ignoring the silent plea in her eyes. ‘The hotel is closed to other guests while the Prince is here—and I’m sure that someone else can sort out the linen! Cathy is at your service for as long as you need her, Your Serene Highness.’ He smiled and an unmistakable warning was arrowed in her direction. ‘And what the Prince wants, we must make sure the Prince gets, mustn’t we, Cathy?’
Cathy felt slightly sick—because Rupert seemed to have reduced her job and her status down to something as basic as linen-sorting. How sycophantic he sounded. Didn’t he notice the Prince curling his arrogant lips in response to his toadying attitude?
But there were more pressing concerns than the Prince’s arrogance—because she had very real reasons for wanting to refuse to be his ‘guide’. Fleetingly, she thought of his kiss and her response to it. A heady encounter which seemed the most highly charged of her life had been given an even more piquant edge once she had discovered his true identity. She thought of the danger of being in such close proximity to him and excitement warred with fear. What on earth was his motive in making such a request?
She risked another look, meeting the cool mockery lurking in the depths of his golden eyes, and realisation hit her like a velvet hammer. He wants you and, what’s more, he thinks he’s going to have you. Cathy bit her lip. And in view of the way you acted with him—can you really blame him for thinking that?
And yet, if the truth were known, didn’t she want him, too—even now? Hadn’t the touch of his lips and his tight embrace made her feel really wanted—her broken and rejected spirit erupting into life at the thought that such a man could desire her?
Willing the hungry clamour of her body to calm down, Cathy hoped that her shrug disguised the frantic pounding of her heart. ‘What can I say?’ she questioned flatly. ‘That I’d be delighted?’
Xaviero’s eyes narrowed. Surely that was not resignation he could hear lurking in the depths of her soft voice? Or was she merely playing a coy game with him? Trying to show a little decorum where last week she had shown precisely none? ‘Excellent,’ he murmured.
Rupert beamed. ‘Well, if that’s all sorted—perhaps you would like to come with me, Your Serene Highness, and then I’ll show you to your suite.’
‘No, no.’ Xaviero’s voice was soft as he flicked his hand dismissively at Rupert. ‘Go and leave us,’ he ordered. ‘The girl will attend to my needs.’
Rupert hesitated for one slightly puzzled moment before he left the reception area like a small child sent out into the rain to play and Cathy was left alone with the Prince. For a moment, there was silence and she didn’t know where to look or what to say. All she was aware of was the prickle of her senses and the wild thunder of her heart as he caught her in the crossfire of his gaze.
‘You look wary,’ he commented softly as he reacquainted himself with the aquamarine beauty of her darkening eyes. ‘Are you?’
She swallowed. Wary as anything—and frighteningly excited, too. ‘Why would I be wary, Your Highness?’
‘That doesn’t answer my question.’ Dark eyebrows arched in arrogant query. ‘Are you wary of me?’
There was a pause. ‘Not at all,’ Cathy answered, but she lowered her gaze lest he read the lie in her eyes.
Xaviero’s lips curved into a speculative smile. Didn’t she realise that desire was shimmering hotly from her tense and voluptuous frame, no matter how much she tried to disguise it? And yet the fact that she was trying to resist him was proving to be an irresistible aphrodisiac.
From the cold, bleak space which seemed to have inhabited his body for so long, he felt the answering tug of desire.
‘Then show me to my suite,’ he commanded softly.
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