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‘Because,’ I hiss, my heart pounding. ‘You’re you, and I’m me.’
‘What does that mean?’
‘In a year’s time I’m going to be the Queen of Marlsdoven. Even if I wanted to do what you’re suggesting...’ heat rushes my cheeks... ‘I can’t. I’m not at liberty to have meaningless affairs. My people expect more of me.’
‘So how do you conduct relationships, then?’ He seems genuinely interested, the look in his eyes speculative rather than sensual.
I focus on my knees. I wonder what he’d say if I told him the truth. He’d probably be shocked, then bolt out of the car faster than you could say, ‘I don’t sleep with virgins’. The idea has my stomach squeezing—for all that I know a relationship between us is impossible, I don’t want to turn him off completely.
‘You don’t know what it’s like,’ I say after a beat. ‘I’m watched everywhere I go. In the palace there are staff, and outside there are citizens who see me, by virtue of my birth right, as “theirs”. There’s an ideal of what a princess should be and all my life I’ve been taught to live up to it.’
‘And what happens if you don’t?’
The question is one I’ve never asked myself. ‘I don’t want to find out.’ My expression feels heavy with regrets. I press my hand on the door handle. ‘Thank you again for coming to get me.’
His eyes pierce me for several long seconds, but before I can open the door he reaches out, pressing his fingers over my knee. ‘Dinner tonight. In your hotel room.’
My lips part on a rush of breath. ‘No.’ It’s too intimate.
He reaches for my chin then, holding my face steady, our eyes latched. There is a plea in my heart, a plea for him to understand how difficult this is for me.
‘Sí. Don’t fight when you don’t want to, Princesa.’
Princesa. The word heats my blood, my eyes sparking with his. His hand drops from my face and regret forms like a brick in my gut.
‘I suppose it would give us a chance to go over some details of your development,’ I say with a small lift of my shoulder, not meeting his eyes in case he sees the fib for what it is.
To his credit, he doesn’t gloat. ‘Tonight, then.’
A shiver runs down my spine, but not one of fear. No, this is a response of anticipation and warmth, a tingle of excitement at what lies ahead.
CHAPTER FIVE
WE DIDN’T ARRANGE a precise time for dinner, a fact I’m only cognisant of when eight o’clock comes and goes and there’s still no sign of Santiago. I’ve been waiting for him for almost an hour and I feel frustrated, annoyed and more than a little disappointed.
To my chagrin, my hotel room reservation was upgraded to the presidential suite despite my insistence that it wasn’t necessary, and the suite is far, far bigger than I could possibly want. Several sumptuous bedrooms, each with their own bathroom, as well as a spacious living room that features a white grand piano, marble tiles and golden curtains framing floor-to-ceiling windows. There’s a fireplace as well, for those wintry nights, though it’s hard to imagine Spain being cool enough to warrant such a thing when the city is as it is now—bathed in the last rays of the summer sun, warm and golden, glowing with a hint of magic.
There is a kitchen too, and a cursory inspection when I first arrived showed it to be fully stocked with Spanish delicacies. I’m contemplating making myself a little platter of olives and bread when, finally, a heavy knock sounds at the door. I know without looking that it’s him, but ingrained training has me waiting right where I am. A moment later, the door opens and Alex announces Santiago’s arrival. Alex’s expression is impassive yet I can’t help but wonder and worry about what he might make of this turn of events.
That concern doesn’t last long. The moment Santiago steps into the suite, my mouth goes dry and my mind empties of all considerations that don’t revolve around him.
He’s wearing a dark suit now, casual in its styling, with a crisp white shirt unbuttoned at the throat revealing a hint of dark, curling hair, just like the first day we met. He shrugs out of his jacket as he strides closer to me, discarding it over the back of a chair, revealing shirt sleeves pushed up to show his tanned forearms.
‘Hi.’
I utter the greeting simply to fill the silence. My heart is thumping heavily.
His only response is to walk towards me, and I can’t help but notice his taut waist as he moves, the shirt fitted to reveal his strength and raw power. I remember the way it felt to be in his arms, and the way his body had been hard and warm. Desire weakens my knees, and my determination.
I look away, but it doesn’t help; he’s imprinted on my mind. When he’s close enough that his fragrance tickles my nostrils I turn back to face him cautiously. His eyes are heavy on my face, and a spark bursts between us as I meet his gaze.
‘How was your afternoon?’
My afternoon? I have to rally myself to focus. ‘I... Fine.’
‘You walked through the gaming floor?’
I lift my brows. ‘You’re spying on me?’
