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Lia shoved that thought away. She was tired and she didn’t want to talk about this any more. ‘We’ve had our discussion,’ she said evenly, trying not to give in to her temper. ‘I’ve told you why I don’t want to marry you. I’m not sure why you’re arguing with me about it, but I suppose it’s because you hate it when people don’t do exactly what you want.’
‘That’s not—’
‘I’m tired, I’m cold and I don’t want to continue this discussion.’ She kept her tone firm. ‘There’s no more to be said.’
Rafael was silent a long moment, his relentless silver gaze boring into her.
She stared back, refusing to be cowed.
She was younger than he, less experienced than he and had no power to speak of, but none of that mattered.
Her will was as strong as his and they both knew it.
Tension gathered between them, drawing tighter and tighter.
Her breath caught, every part of her suddenly coming alive. Aware of him on the most basic level, of his height, his heat and his sheer masculine power.
He could make her do anything he wanted. He could use that power, that strength to bend her to his will. Yet he never had and she knew he never would—that was why she felt no fear as she faced into the storm force of his displeasure. She’d never been afraid of him even when everyone else had...
Lia stood beside some of the other palace staff on one of the balconies that overlooked the grand front stairs of the palace, all of them craning for a glimpse of the infamous new Regent.
Her father and Matias were among the delegation waiting on the steps, all attention on the long black limo that had pulled up in front. The door opened.
A man got out. He was so tall, taller than even the Prince, who towered over most. He was dressed in an expensive and perfectly tailored dark suit with a black shirt underneath and, the moment he straightened up, everyone fell silent. He wasn’t handsome like some of her favourite actors, or pretty like her boy-band crushes, yet all the same he was the most compelling man Lia had ever seen in all her seventeen years.
There was something about him that drew her, that fascinated her. Something to do with the natural power and authority he radiated, a man in complete control of himself and the world he lived in. A man utterly unlike his father, King Carlos, who’d been unpredictable, wild and corrupt. No one wanted another king like that and everyone was afraid that the decision to bring in King Carlos’s illegitimate son to rule until Matias was of age had been a bad one.
Lia could hear people whispering and knew they were afraid as they stared at the man they called the ‘Spanish Bastard’, a financial genius and CEO of one of the world’s biggest finance companies.
It had been Lia’s father’s decision to ask Rafael Navarro to rule Santa Castelia as Prince Regent, in the hope that he would be able to restore a decimated treasury and guide the Prince on a better path than the one their father had walked.
Others had opposed the decision and, looking at the man striding up the steps of the palace as if he owned it already, Lia could understand their fear.
But she knew—and how she knew she had no idea, she just did—that they had nothing to be afraid of. This man was not Carlos. In fact, Lia’s almost bone-deep instinct was that he was the opposite. Strong where Carlos had been weak. Steady where Carlos had been unpredictable. Calm where Carlos had been wild and cool where Carlos had been hot.
This man would heal Santa Castelia, she just knew it.
At the top of the grand stairs, Rafael Navarro turned to address the assembled crowd. He had the most extraordinary eyes, a light grey that glittered like silver, in stark contrast to his black hair and brows.
He leisurely took in everyone that stood before him, as if acknowledging each and every one of them, even those on the balconies. And when that silver gaze came to her, she felt an answering pulse deep inside, as if part of her knew exactly what he would eventually come to mean to her...
‘Well,’ he said at last, his casual tone so at odds with that blazing silver gaze she knew so intimately, ‘I can see that this might take some time. Then again, we do have the whole night.’ He glanced down at the hideously expensive watch that circled one strong wrist. ‘Constanza will have prepared the Mountain Suite for you and a change of clothes, so you can get warm at least. I’ve also ordered some refreshments to be brought. Perhaps some time to change and something to eat will help you feel better.’
‘Feel better meaning change my mind?’
Strangely, something that looked like reluctant amusement rippled over his harsh features, gone so fast she wasn’t sure she’d seen it at all. Reminding her that it hadn’t all been fiery intellectual arguments and challenges. He had a very dry sense of humour that rarely showed itself, but when it did, when she’d managed to make him smile, she’d always felt as if she’d won a lottery.
That same rush of warmth sparked inside her now, lighting her up inside.
‘You never know,’ he murmured. ‘What about if I added some whisky and cigars?’
The warmth expanded. Whisky and cigars, and Rafael’s exciting, vital presence. The bright points in a life that had been far more curtailed than she ever let herself think too deeply about.
She’d missed him. She’d missed him so much.
‘Sadly,’ she said, ‘I don’t think the baby would like it.’
The lines around his hard mouth eased, that elusive spark of humour glowing briefly in his eyes. ‘True enough.’
