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‘The one to keep me here until my brother returns with your sister.’
He leaned back in his chair, wiping his mouth with his napkin. As he regarded her Regan’s eyes drifted over the hard planes of his face, those slashing eyebrows and his surly, oh, so sinful mouth. He would photograph beautifully, she thought. All that dominant masculine virility just waiting to be harnessed... It gave a girl the shivers. She could picture him astride a horse, outlined against the desert dunes with the sun at his muscled back. Or asleep on soft rumpled sheets, his muscular arms supporting his head, his powerful thighs—
Regan frowned. Sometimes her creative side was a real pain.
‘Is that my plan?’ His deep voice held a smooth superiority that set her teeth on edge.
‘Well, obviously. But I already told you that I wouldn’t say anything about your sister being missing. I’m even willing to sign something to say that I won’t.’
‘But how do I know I can trust you?’
‘Because I’m a very trustworthy person. Call my boss. She’ll tell you. I never say anything I don’t mean or do anything I say I won’t.’
‘Admirable.’
‘Don’t patronise me.’ She gripped the back of the carved teak dining chair opposite him. The smell of something delicious wafted into her sinuses and she nearly groaned. ‘You’re really horrible, you know that?’
‘I’ve been called worse.’
‘I don’t doubt it. Oh...’ She clenched her aching stomach as it moaned again, and glared at him. ‘You did this on purpose, didn’t you?’
‘Did what?’ he asked innocently.
‘Brought food in here. You’re trying to make me so hungry that I’ll eat despite myself. Well, it won’t work.’ She glared into his sapphire-blue eyes. ‘You can’t break me.’
She wheeled away from the table, intending to spend the rest of the night in the garden until he left, but she didn’t make it two steps before he stopped her, wrapping his arm around her waist and hauling her against him.
Regan let out a cry of annoyance and banged her fists down on his forearms.
‘Stop doing that,’ she demanded. Already her skin felt hot, her unreliable senses urging her to turn in his arms and press up against him. ‘I hate it when you touch me.’
‘Then stop defying me,’ he grated in her ear, yanking the chair she’d just been gripping out from the table and dumping her in it.
‘You like doing that, don’t you?’ she accused, rubbing her bottom to erase the impression left behind from being welded to his hard stomach. ‘Using your brute strength to get what you want.’
He picked up his fork and pointed i
t at her. ‘Eat. Before I really lose my temper and ask the palace doctor to get a tube and feed you that way.’
‘You wouldn’t dare.’
The smile on his face said he would, and that he’d enjoy it.
‘I’m only doing this because now that I know you won’t let me go I’m going to need my strength to escape,’ she said, snatching up a delicate pastry from a silver platter and shoving it into her mouth. It dissolved with flaky deliciousness on her tongue, making her reach for another. She murmured appreciatively and blushed when she found him staring at her. ‘What?’ she grouched. ‘Isn’t this what you wanted all along?’
‘Yes.’ His voice was deep and low, and turned her insides to liquid.
Not wanting him to know just how much he affected her, she decided to take another tack. ‘This is preposterous, you know?’
He glanced at her. ‘The food? My chef will not be pleased to hear that.’
‘Keeping me here.’ She picked up her fork and stabbed at something delicious looking. ‘It’s the twenty-first century and you appear to be an educated man.’ Though that was popular opinion, not hers. ‘A ruler, for heaven’s sake. You can’t just impose your will on others whenever you feel like it.’
He gave a short bark of laughter. ‘Actually I can.’ He piled more food onto his plate. ‘And I am aware of the century. But in my country the King creates the laws, which pretty much gives me carte blanche to do what I want, whenever I want.’
‘That can’t be true.’ She frowned. ‘You must have checks and balances. A government of some sort.’
‘I have a cabinet that helps me govern, if that’s what you mean.’
