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She wanted to punch him, she told herself, but Natalie knew that was a lie. The sad truth here was she was looking for any excuse to put her hands on him again. And she knew exactly what kind of person that made her.
And even so, she found herself leaning into that palm at her cheek.
“I never wanted what our parents had,” Rodolfo told her then, his voice low and commanding, somehow, against the mild night air. “A dance in front of the cameras and nothing but duty and gritted teeth in private. I promised myself that I would marry for the right reasons. But then it seemed that what I would get instead was a cold shoulder and a polite smile. I told myself it was more than some people in my position could claim. I thought I had made my peace with it.”
Natalie found she couldn’t speak. As if there was a hand around her throat, gripping her much too tight.
Rodolfo didn’t move any closer, though it was as if he shut out the rest of the world. There was nothing but that near-smile on his face, that hint of light in his gaze. There was nothing but the two of them and the lie of who she was tonight, but the longer he looked at her like that, the harder it was to remember that he wasn’t really hers. That he could never be hers. That none of the things he was saying to her were truly for her at all.
“Rodolfo...” she managed to say. Confession or capitulation, she couldn’t tell.
“I like my name in your mouth, princess,” he told her, sending heat dancing all over her, until it pooled low and hot in her belly. “And I like this. There is no reason at all we cannot take some pleasure in our solemn duty to our countries. Think of all the dreadfully tedious affairs we will enjoy a great deal more when there is this to brighten up the monotony.”
His head lowered to hers again, and she wanted nothing more than to lose herself in him. In the pleasure he spoke of. In his devastating kiss, all over again.
But somehow, Natalie managed to recollect herself in the instant before his lips touched hers. She yanked herself out of his grip and stepped away from him, the night feeling cool around her now that she wasn’t so close to the heat that seemed to come off him in waves.
“I’m sorry.” She couldn’t seem to help herself. But she kept her gaze trained on the ground, because looking at him was fraught with peril. Natalie was terribly afraid it would end only one way. “I shouldn’t have...” She trailed off, helplessly. “I need to go back to my hotel.”
“And do what?” he asked, and something in his voice made her stand straighter. Some kind of foreboding, perhaps. When she looked up at him, Rodolfo’s gaze had gone dark again, his mouth stern and hard. “Switch personalities yet again?”
* * *
Valentina jerked as if he’d slapped her, and if he’d been a little more in control of himself, Rodolfo might have felt guilty about that.
Maybe he already did, if he was entirely honest, but he couldn’t do anything about it. He couldn’t reach out and put his hands on her the way he wanted to do. He couldn’t do a goddamned thing when she refused to tell him what was going on.
The princess looked genuinely distraught at the thought of kissing him again. At the thought that this marriage they’d been ordered into for the good of their kingdoms could be anything but a necessary, dutiful undertaking to be suffered through for the rest of their lives.
Rodolfo didn’t understand any of this. Didn’t she realize that this crazy chemistry that had blazed to life out of nowhere was a blessing? The saving grace of what was otherwise nothing more than a royal chore dressed up as a photo opportunity?
Clearly she did not, because she was staring at him with something he couldn’t quite read making her green eyes dark. Her lovely cheeks looked pale. She looked shaken—though that made no sense.
“What do you mean by that?” she demanded, though her voice sounded as thrown as the rest of her looked. “I have the one personality, that’s all. This might come as a shock to you, I realize, but many women actually havelayers.Many humans, in fact.”
Rodolfo wanted to be soothing. He did. He prided himself on never giving in to his temper. On maintaining his cool under any and all extreme circumstances. There was no reason he couldn’t calm this maddening woman, whether he understood what was going on here or not.
“Are you unwell?” he asked instead. And not particularly nicely.
“I am feeling more unwell by the moment,” she threw back at him, stiff and cool. “As I told you, I need to leave.”
He reached over and hooked a hand around her elbow when she made as if to turn, holding her there where she stood. Keeping her with him. And the caveman in him didn’t care whether she liked it or not.
“Let go of me,” she snapped at him. But she didn’t pull her elbow from his grasp.
Rodolfo smiled. It was a lazy, edgy sort of smile, and he watched the color rush back into her face.
“No.”
She stiffened, but she still didn’t pull away. “What do you mean,no?”
“I mean that I have no intention of releasing you until you tell me why you blow so hot and cold, princess. And I do not much care if it takes all night. It is almost as if you are two women—”
Her green eyes flashed. “That or I find you largely unappealing.”
“Until, of course, you do not find me unappealing in the least. Then you melt all over me.”
Her cheeks pinkened further. “I find it as confusing as you do. Best not to encourage it, I think.”
