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Her lips curved. ‘Barely. I’m being lazy. I totally get why you love it here.’

She wasn’t lazy. Never had been. She’d studied, volunteered, worked. She’d never partied or asked to attend shows or fashion weeks or to travel. He couldn’t believe he’d thought she was a leech. It had suited his father to use her—bolstered his reputation as generous when he’d gifted her a title for life at his horrendously over-the-top wedding. And when he’d sheltered her after her mother died in an accident. Domenico sold himself as a protective man who’d provided for an orphaned princess, but keeping her mother’s infidelity secret had been a favour to be called in later.

Alex hated that the jerk presented himself as saviour although he’d never thought Domenico would hurt anyone other than him, but he had—just in another way. Alex had done nothing other than occasionally try to bully her out because he’d been unable to tell Tilly the truth—that for him the palace wasn’t a safe place. He’d watched from a distance, seen Erik befriend her and figured that was good—until that had become an intolerable twisting dagger of its own. You didn’t always need literal chains and cages to feel trapped. He’d not understood how she’d been manipulated, guilted into compliance—always feeling as if she needed to earn the right to her existence. So he was happy she was lazing about—even if the world was going up in flames.

‘You weren’t too lazy to go for a ride by yourself after lunch.’ His groom had messaged for confirmation it was okay. Alex had watched from the fortress.

A flush mounted in her cheeks. ‘I thought I could do with more practice while you were working. Do you mind?’

‘I’m only sorry I stood in the way of you discovering your enjoyment of that.’

Her eyes glinted. ‘My not horse-riding before wasn’t because of you.’

‘No?’

‘Arrogance, thy name is Alex.’ She lifted her chin. ‘You think you’re that influential in my life?’

He wished. ‘I scared you off. You ran out of the stables like a terrified goose and never returned.’ He couldn’t resist looping his fingers in the curling strand of hair at her temple. Soft, rich fire. ‘Didn’t you assume that you’re the reason I don’t live at the palace?’

The green brightened in her eyes. ‘No, I think you decided on that long before my arrival.’

His chest ached. He didn’t want to dwell on that. Focused on her. ‘You said you do as you’re told. Take what you’re given. Never ask for anything more. So what did you want to do but couldn’t in all this time?’

He wanted to pause time—do something she wanted.

Her gaze sharpened. ‘If I tell you, you’re not to go and organise it. I’m not a pity project. I’ll get to it myself.’

‘Independently.’ He sighed. ‘Tell me anyway. I promise I won’t organise anything. You’re captain of your own ship.’

It was as if he’d blown oxygen on a small spark—she lit up with the sweetest smile and he leaned closer. ‘I mean it. You can tell me anything. Anything. No judgment, no repercussions.’

Her lashes dropped, hiding the emerald and bronze flecks. ‘What if I was to tell you I’m not wearing any panties? Would there be repercussions from that?’

‘Are you teasing me?’ But of course, because this was all they were.

She reached to cup his jaw, shyness sparkling in her eyes as she whispered, ‘I appreciate what you’re saying and I thank you for the support. Same back at you, actually. And I’m truly not wearing any panties.’

He chuckled. ‘Only good repercussions from a confession like that.’

She laughed and he was paralysed by her radiance. Then remembered he wasn’t the only one. ‘There’s something you need to see.’ He opened the laptop.

She curled her legs up. ‘I don’t want to see what else is online.’

‘I know. It sucks. But this is important—this is real.’ He sat beside her, angling the screen so she could see all the photos of him looking at her.

‘Oh.’ She blinked then leaned forward. ‘I can’t believe someone took the time to search through all these. You’re glaring at me in all of them. You’ve got such a good glare. I mean, thunderous, Alex.’ She shot him a killer look of her own. ‘You couldn’t look more disapproving of me.’

Not entirely accurate. ‘What else do you notice?’

‘You’re with a different date each time. At that one you seem to have two.’ She glanced at him even more sharply. ‘Playboy Prince Alex.’

He hadn’t spotted that. He smiled ruefully. ‘Maybe.’

‘I’m sure you had your reasons.’ Less playful. More enquiry.

He wasn’t going there with her. Ever. For a few years that escapist aspect of his life had been fantastic, but eventually he’d become bored and bitterness had seeped into even that. He’d worked harder instead—building his own connections within Montaurella, proving his worth in an entirely different way. ‘What else?’

Tilly forced herself to look beyond Alex and his stunning dates, failing to freeze the prickly heat that smothered her. He’d watched her so often with that intensity. Once she’d have said it was raw disapproval, but now she wondered if it was something else. ‘You really didn’t want me there, did you?’