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‘I prefer to have a say in when advances like that are made on me,’ she said.
‘Did you have such an agreement with Jules?’
The question was fired at her.
‘Excuse me?’
‘You may not have responded when he kissed you, but you didn’t protest either.’ His intense gaze dropped to her lips. ‘Did you agree that he could kiss you?’
‘No! For your information, that kiss took me by surprise too. And frankly I’m done being manhandled by you and your kin. So shall we add that to the ground rules?’
‘No.’ His expression hardened before his gaze reconnected with hers. ‘That will not be necessary because it won’t happen again.’
Something irritatingly resembling disappointment pounded through her. From the moment she’d set eyes on him he’d messed with her equilibrium. The harder she tried to regain her footing, the faster she spun out of control. It needed to stop.
They pulled up to the hotel, under the thankfully wide awning erected at the front entrance. Remi didn’t seem in a hurry to reclaim his jacket, and his hand returned to the small of her back the moment they stepped out of the vehicle.
Despite the stark admonition to herself to regain her equilibrium as soon as possible, she couldn’t stop herself from inhaling his scent with every breath, nor halt the awareness flaring over her skin when they entered the lift.
In the mirror’s reflection his should
ers looked broader beneath his pristine white shirt, the cut of his torso delineating a physique most men only dreamed about. She was so busy ogling his body she didn’t notice the lift had arrived at his floor and the doors had slid open until she caught his hooded scrutiny through the mirror.
Heat flew into her cheeks, her mortification intensifying when his gaze turned chilly. But with twisted gratitude she absorbed the sharp rejection, let it throw off the haze that threatened to shroud her.
Stepping out of the lift, she shrugged off his jacket and held it out to him. ‘I don’t need this any more. Thank you.’ Her voice was husky with hurt but she didn’t care.
He took it, the brush of his fingers stimulating another shiver that set her teeth on edge. She needed to get her faculties back under control, because this was insane.
‘Goodnight, Your Highness,’ she threw over her shoulder as she marched towards her suite, conscious that he was watching her. Against her will, she hesitated with one hand on the door.
‘Sleep well,’ was all he said before he sauntered off, one finger hooked into his jacket and a supreme confidence in his swagger that made her want to keep staring at him.
In direct contravention of that need Maddie whirled away, entered the junior suite she’d been assigned by Percy, under Remi’s instruction, and shut the door behind her.
The suite was a smaller version of Remi’s but no less breathtaking. Her breath caught all over again as she looked around, scrutinised the paintings and objets d’art dotted around the room. Everywhere she looked she saw a reflection of royalty, power, prestige. There was even a photo of a monarch bearing a striking resemblance to Remi shaking hands with a president.
But not even the magnificence of her surroundings could curb the tiny tremors that continued to radiate through her body as she relived their kiss. Even now her fingers itched to trace her mouth, soothe the tingles that should have passed.
An hour later, Maddie tossed and turned for the umpteenth time, punched her pillow in a vain effort to settle, then with a start realised she hadn’t thought of her father all evening. She’d been so absorbed by Remi she’d forgotten to make her check-in call.
Guilt flaying her, she eyed the clock. It was after midnight. If by some miracle he’d combatted his insomnia, all she’d be doing was disturbing his rest.
She sank into the pillow, praying for similar oblivion to take her thoughts from the man who’d captivated her senses.
Her prayer wasn’t answered. The moment she closed her eyes, her mind veered back to Remi. To the dance. To that kiss.
The kiss she didn’t want to happen again, she reiterated to herself.
She lived with the harsh consequences of trusting her emotions every day. Greg had used their childhood friendship to betray her. And, while her agreement with Remi was signed in indelible ink, both men were of the same ilk, judging and treating those less fortunate than themselves as unworthy.
She wasn’t about to make the same mistake twice.
Against her better judgment, she reached for her phone and typed his name into an internet search engine. And there, in vivid Technicolor, lay the evidence she wasn’t sure was wise to see.
Celeste Bastille had been stunning, in a gentle, doe-eyed way that showed she’d been born to be the perfect foil for a man like Remi. The daughter of French and Montegovan aristocracy, she exuded poise and charm in every picture Maddie uncovered, her utter devotion to the man at her side clear in every look.
Maddie only managed to look at a few before she tossed her phone away. Remi still loved her, if that expression of guilt and anguish on his face early this evening was any indication.
