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She needed a coffee and perhaps some food before she thought about her next move, she told herself, pulling open the door into the living room. But before that she’d get the fire going to keep the house warm all through the night. She didn’t know if she could rely on the heating and on several bitter nights she had actually slept downstairs on the settee with a coal fire glowing in the grate. It looked as if this was going to be one of those nights tonight.

‘Good evening, Clementina,’ a voice came to her from across the room. A dark, rich, male voice that she recognised in the space of a jolting, stunned heartbeat.

‘What?’

Whirling in a panic, Clemmie almost flung herself towards the light switch, stabbing a finger at it in her haste to illuminate the room.

She already knew what she would see but her thoughts still reeled in shock as she came face to face with the reality. It was one thing to realise that Karim was there, in the house, silent and still, waiting for her. Quite another to confront the reality and see him sitting there, tall and proud, impossibly big, impossibly dark, ominously dangerous, his polished jet eyes fixed on her face. He was wearing another pair of jeans and a grey cashmere sweater that hugged the honed lines of his powerful chest. Simple, casual clothing but of such high quality that they looked out of place against the shabby surroundings, the worn upholstery of the armchair that seemed barely large enough to contain the lean strong frame of the powerful man who looked every bit the King’s son that he was.

Surprisingly, he had a sleek tablet computer in his hands, one that he touched briefly to switch it off before letting it drop down on to his knees.

‘Good evening, Clementina,’ he said again, turning on a smile that was barely there and then gone again, leaving an impression of threat, of danger, without a word having to be said. ‘I’m glad you made it back home.’

Was that doubt in his voice? Deliberate provocation to imply that this was the last place he expected to see her?

‘I said that I would!’ Clemmie protested sharply. ‘And I left a note.’

Karim nodded slowly, reaching out for a piece of paper that lay on the table beside his chair. Clemmie recognised the note she had left lying on the bed and she couldn’t suppress the faint shiver that skittered over her skin at the thought of what his mood must have been like when he had found it.

‘“I’ll be back tomorrow”,’ Karim read aloud, his accent making the words sound strangely alien. ‘“Promise”.’

‘I promised. And I kept my word.’

‘So you did.’

And she’d surprised him there, Karim admitted. He’d been quite prepared for her to have taken off for good, turning her back on everything she had promised and leaving the situation in the most dangerous and difficult stage possible. He’d even organised contingency plans to move into action if that happened. After all, he’d had emergency plans in place before he’d even started out on the journey to England and all it would have taken would have been a couple of phone calls, and the backup team could have moved into action. He’d almost made those phone calls in the first moments after he’d lost patience with her so-called ‘packing’ and headed upstairs to the bedroom to bring her down, ready or not. Then he’d seen the open window, felt the icy blast of wintry air sneaking through the gaping space. He’d heard the sound of her car’s engine picking up speed, heading away from the cottage. But then he’d seen the note on the bed.

‘You didn’t think that I would?’

‘To be honest—no.’

Putting aside the tablet, he uncoiled from the uncomfortable chair, stretching cramped muscles as he did so. The tracking device he’d left on her car had worked well. When he had known that she was heading home, he had settled down to wait, listening for the sound of her car coming up to the door. Then he’d stayed silent and still so as not to have her turning and running.

‘But then did you give me a reason to trust you?’

‘Um...no.’

Her eyes dropped away from him as she spoke and she actually chewed at her lower lip, white teeth biting down hard on the soft pink flesh in a way that made him wince inwardly. He wanted to reach out and put his hand to her mouth, stopping the nervous gesture, but instinct held him back though his fingers twitched in anticipation of the contact. He could already feel the heat of her body, the scent of her skin reaching him and the sizzle of electricity down his nerves was like a brand on his flesh. He felt hungry, wanting in a way that was darkly carnal, just barely under control.

‘I did run out on you.’

If he hadn’t already met her, if he didn’t know her voice, her scent and those stunning amber eyes, he might think that this was not Clementina but her double. An identical twin who had stepped in at the last minute to replace her wilder, less conventional sister. This woman was a cooler prospect altogether. Her long dark hair was caught into a shining tail that fell sleekly down her back. Her porcelain skin and golden eyes were free of any make-up—they didn’t need any—and the curling black lashes that framed her gaze were impossibly thick and lush without any cosmetic enhancement.

This woman was a princess—a potential queen through and through. In spite of the fact that her clothing was once more on the far side of casual, worn denim jeans with holes at the knees and frayed hems, and an elderly dark pink jumper that had shrunk in the wash or was deliberately designed to give a disturbing glimpse of peachy skin on a tight stomach and narrow waist when she moved. She was tall and elegant. And hellishly beautiful.

But then her eyes came up fast to meet his and there was the burn of defiance in their depths.

‘I did leave a note! And all I asked for was another twenty-four hours!’

The wilder Clementina was back as she tossed back her hair. He’d liked the wild Clementina better—hell, he’d loved the wild one even though he hadn’t been able to show it. She’d thrown him off balance when he was already tight on edge with all that had happened. The news about his father. About Nabil. About his security chief.

‘Would it have hurt so much to give me that?’ she challenged.

‘Not if I could have been sure that all you really wanted was those twenty-four hours.’

‘I said so, didn’t I? And you didn’t believe me.’

‘It depended on what you wanted to do with that extra day—where you planned to go. You ran away from the palace once before. How was I to know if you were setting off to some other hideaway or if you ever planned to come back.’

‘I said that I would!’ She turned on him a look from those brilliant eyes that was searingly scornful, even with a touch of pity threaded through it. ‘It must be hellish being you—being so suspicious of everyone. Is there anyone you can trust? Anyone you can believe in?’

I believed in Razi. In spite of himself, Karim couldn’t stop the thought from sliding into his mind. He had put his trust in his brother and look where that had got him. The worst failure of his life. Two deaths he hadn’t been able to prevent. A whole change of life, the old one turned inside out. A new role that he had never wanted. Even a bride he had almost had to marry out of duty, if that hadn’t been decided against.

‘I had no reason to believe in you.’

Dark memories made his words as cold as black ice, turning the atmosphere inside the room colder than the wintry scene outside.

‘And I had no way of knowing that you were simply heading for a birthday party in Lilac Close...’

That got through to her. If he had thought that her eyes were amazing before, they were stunning now, open wide in shock and questioning bewilderment. The knowledge that he had shaken her out of her defiance gave him some satisfaction in return for the way she had escaped yesterday, leaving him with his mission unaccomplished. She had lost all colour now, her cheeks parchment-white, in contrast to the rich dark fall of her hair, those impossible eyelashes.

‘How did you know?’ Her voice sounded rough and raw, as if it came from a painfully dry throat.

She really didn’t know who she was dealing with and the satisfaction at having wrong-footed her so completely was like a roar in his blood.

‘It was easy.’

She was still staring at him as he headed for the hall, wrenching open the door. The wild fury of the snowstorm made him wince. It had been nothing like as bad as this when he had driven back to the cottage this morning. There must have been inches—more—that had fallen while he had been inside, waiting for Clementina to arrive. No wonder the reception for his computer had been spotty to say the least.

Hunching his shoulders and ducking his head, he headed out towards where her tiny elderly car was parked, its tyres already halfway deep in the drifts.

Just what was he doing now? Clemmie asked herself, as something that was not just the cold but something more, something deeper and rawer than the icy blast of the wind from outside crept round her neck and shoulders, making her shiver miserably. It was something about Karim himself. About the way he had looked at her, the ice in his eyes, the blank emotionlessness of his tone. He had been sent to fetch her and that was the one thing he was concentrated on, like a hunting dog with the scent of its prey in its nostrils. He was never going to let her go.

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