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‘I learnt from a sultan I knew many years ago not to say I liked anything. If I did, it was immediately wrapped and gifted to me. I almost came home with a cheetah once...’
She smiled. He’d made her smile again even before she’d undone the bow.
‘So, I saw this, and I thought how lovely it was. I have no idea what it’s worth—please don’t pawn it or whatever...it could cause an international incident. Or it might just be a little knick-knack—though I doubt it. Anyway, it was the only way I could get a gift for you. Tobias wanted to log it on the register...’
‘What did you tell him?’
‘That I’d lost it.’
It was a tiny crystal peacock, with white opals and possibly diamonds in its feathers. Aside from the Prince standing by her desk, it was the most exquisite thing she had seen in her life.
She held it up to the window to let it catch the light, and he stood watching her smile.
‘That one doesn’t screech.’
‘He’s beautiful. But...’ she shook her head ‘...I really can’t...’
‘Oh, I think you can.’
No, she really couldn’t. Because then she’d add it to the birthday card he’d signed, which now sat on her dressing table. Another little Julius memento to keep.
‘I don’t want it.’ She put the beautiful creature back into its beautiful box. ‘I think it’s better that you tell Tobias you found it.’
‘Beatrice...’
‘Thank you for the thought.’
‘It’s a gift.’
‘Julius, Security do random checks on our bags!’
‘They’re not going to checkyourbag.’
‘Actually, they very often do. And how would I explain that?’ She looked at him. ‘Or in a week or so, when I leave, how do I go through airport security with the Prince’s jewels—?’
‘You overthink things.’
‘I do,’ she agreed. ‘That is what I do. I overthink and I overthink, and the more I think about it, the more I don’t want him.’
‘I saw the way you looked at him—’
‘I want something I can dump in the bin a few weeks from now, when this is all a distant memory—not some jewelled peacock glaring at me. So, no thank you to your romantic gesture.’
She knew it was an insult to reject a gift—especially here, especially from the heir to the throne.
‘What do you want, Beatrice?’
‘I’ve had what I wanted,’ Beatrice told him. ‘Our one night. Also, I have thought about it, and I thank you for the invitation, but I will say no to Regalsi.’
‘I won’t ask twice.’
‘If you did the answer would be the same: a flat no. You wanted no strings; I delivered it.’
‘Well, you do you, Beatrice,’ he said angrily, picking up the gift and pocketing it. ‘Blame me, if it helps. Tell yourself I used you, or whatever, but you know that’s not true...’
He gave her such a look that even as she stared ahead she felt the burn of his glare.
‘You know, perhapsIshould itemise that night, too...’
