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‘You won’t even consider it to help improve relations between our nations?’

Rafe blinked away the dark memories of his past and found himself pinned by a pair of gorgeous green eyes that, if he wasn’t careful, had the potential to suck him in deep and never let him go. ‘See, the problem with that part of your argument is that I don’t care about the issues between Santara and Berenia.’

She blinked as if he’d just said Down with world peace. ‘But how can you not?’

‘I live in London and have done for a decade. I have as little to do with Santara as I can.’

‘Then what about to improve your reputation? Being engaged to me would stop some of the gossip. For a while at least.’

Princess Alexa, he realised, was a real fighter. He liked that. Not enough to agree with her hare-brained scheme, but enough to find that he was enjoying her company. A lot.

‘Who said I wanted the gossip to stop?’

‘But surely some of the things written about you must bother you.’

‘Not particularly.’

‘Why is that?’ Her brow pleated as if his attitude was something she couldn’t contemplate. ‘Because it’s all true?’

Rafe wondered which particular piece of gossip had widened her eyes to the size of dinner plates. Hardly any of it was true but denying the many claims made about him would only give them energy so he rarely bothered. Still, he knew that Alexa didn’t think much of his supposedly ‘hedonistic’ lifestyle and he couldn’t help teasing her a little. ‘Only the really bad ones.’

Watching the wings of colour heat her cheeks almost made him want to rescind his words so that she’d think better of him. Then he wondered why he cared and remained silent. He didn’t like that he’d already delayed this conversation for the pure pleasure of listening to her speak. Adding to his uncharacteristic behaviour would only make things worse.

‘So your answer is no?’

‘My answer is no.’

She blew out a breath and set her glass on the table abutting the sofa. ‘Then there’s nothing more to say.’

There was plenty more to say, starting with enquiring which room she had been allocated so they could revisit that kiss, the sensations of which were still echoing inside his veins. But instead he said, ‘What are you going to do now?’

She raised her chin and gave him a look he imagined she gave international dignitaries she had no further use for. ‘Find someone else, of course.’

* * *

Find someone else? Rafe scowled at his fogged-up reflection as he stepped from the shower the following morning. Just how many men did she plan to approach with her absurd proposal? And, more importantly, had she found someone who had taken her up on her offer last night?

He didn’t want that question running through his head but he was unable to banish it. After she had walked away from him he’d spent another hour at the party looking for her, to no avail. Presumably she’d gone to bed, so he had done the same, thinking about her all night as he’d known he would.

Even though he had no intention of countenancing her proposal himself, he knew that someone would eventually agree to it. What sane man wouldn’t? With that face and body...

Rafe dropped his towel on the floor and padded back to his room to dress. He’d turned her down, hadn’t he, and he was a sane man.

Yes, but he was sane and smart. Smart enough to know that her problems were none of his business and that he should let it go.

And he would. As of now.

His jet was waiting to fly him back to London and he planned to stop downstairs long enough to grab an espresso, wish his sister-in-law well in her pregnancy and tell his siblings he’d see them some time in the future.

What he wouldn’t do was think about the beguiling Alexa any more today.

Pleased to be back on track, he pulled a clean shirt over his head, stepped into his jeans and shoved his feet into his boots.

Women just shouldn’t go around proposing to men who were basically strangers and expect that it would all work out exactly as they wanted it to. Especially not future queens who looked like cover girls. Alexa was asking for trouble.

Trouble that had nothing to do with him.

And why was she back in his head again? So she’d surprised him when so few people did any more—so what? At the end of the day she was just a beautiful woman he’d wanted to take to bed. And she’d wanted to be there too. The way she’d caught fire in his arms...her response to his touch... Grinding his teeth, he zipped his overnight bag closed. What she’d done was drive all rational thought from his head, and kept him up way too long last night.

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