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Alessio cupped her cheek, his palm burning on her flesh. The look in his eyes soft. Sad, as if carrying the weight of the world. Then he slid his hand away, stroking her skin as if wanting to linger. Goosebumps drifted over her as he stepped back. It was as if a tension in the stables had snapped, the release a kind of let-down, almost a disappointment.
‘You may come and ride Kestia at any time you wish whilst you’re here. Simply let the groom know.’
‘What about you?’
The corner of his mouth turned upwards in a wry smile. ‘I have a country to rule.’
‘Is it enough?’
‘It’s all I have, and all I was born for. It must be enough.’ He called over the groom, who led away his two charges. ‘Now I’ll leave you. We have the dinner tonight, where you’ll accompany Stefano. I have much to do before then.’
He turned and strode out of the stables, as if hell itself were chasing him.
CHAPTER FIVE
ALESSIOSTOODBEFOREa mirror, carefully adjusting the white silk bow tie till it sat stiff and perfect at his throat. He wanted to rip it off, the infernal fabric too tight, the top buttons of his pristine shirt choking him. Instead he turned away, breathing slowly, slipping gold cufflinks adorned with the royal crest into the holes of his turned-back cuffs. Sealing them, and him, into place. He shrugged on his jacket, checked again that the Prince of Lasserno had been buttoned, cuffed and tied into his costume. Trying not to think of the afternoon. Of a woman with dark hair the colour of melted chocolate, flying over a fence on a horse. Her grief that twinned his own. The thrill of her warm skin under his fingers.
In Alessio’s experience, women were cool, perfumed, and polished in all ways. Hannah had been none of those things today. Instead she’d been heat and fire and sweat and it was all he could do when the tears had gleamed in her eyes not to crush her to him and burn that grief away with a kiss. To see whether the skin of the rest of her was as soft as her cheek under his palm.
He flexed his fingers. Turned from the mirror and began to pace, his energy restless tonight, even after the ride. He’d held back on Apollo today in deference to what he’d believed was Hannah’s lack of skill. That knowledge now pricked at him like an irritation. They’d wasted the afternoon on a sedate ride, when instead they could have challenged each other and their horses. Perhaps he’d go out again tomorrow, alone. But like every day, tomorrow his calendar was full. He supposed if he asked Stefano to find time his friend might suggest dropping the hospital visit, but that was the one thing he’d never cancel. Lasserno’s sick children needed him, and he would not give up on them. Alessio dropped his head. Scrubbed his hands over his face. There was no time to rid himself of this sensation of needing to move. Not wanting to stop lest creeping thoughts caught up with him.
He checked his watch as a light tap sounded at the door. Almost time to leave.
‘Enter.’
He expected Stefano but as the door cracked open it was as if the breath had been punched from his chest. Hannah stood before him in a floor-length dress in the cool, silver-green of olive leaves, her hair up in some soft, loose style which fell about her face. Lips a perfect plum pout. Eyes a little smoky. She looked up at him and he couldn’t breathe, his collar once again too tight, his bow tie choking him.
Alessio tugged at the neck of his shirt as her eyes widened. She was seated with Stefano at the dinner tonight, but, seeing her now, he wanted her with him in a way which defied rational thought. Better still, they could ignore the function and stay at the palace. Have a quiet candlelit dinner for two...
He shut down those errant thoughts. They had no place in his life.
‘What are you doing here?’ he asked, a little more harshly than he should have, but these were his private rooms. No woman had been in them before.
‘Stefano told me to meet you here. Something about running late?’
That was unheard of. Stefano’s views on punctuality were similar to his own. Alessio checked his phone and sure enough there was the message. He’d been so preoccupied he hadn’t heard the alert.
Hannah stood, expectant. It wasn’t quite time to leave and he couldn’t have her waiting in the hall, so he stepped back, inviting her into the sitting room. Her long dress swished against the floor, sparkling at the hemline and part way up the skirt. Apart from that shine, the rest of her was unadorned. He couldn’t shake the sense that she shouldn’t go to the dinner without armour. Whilst the function was filled with more friends, such as they were, than enemies, even he knew how the worst of them could be. He could take care of himself. As he was Prince of Lasserno, people pandered to him. But any attack on Hannah he might not let go ignored. And he had to ignore her.
Except every fibre of his body rebelled at that knowledge.
‘How were you after your ride?’ Safer ground. He needed to make conversation rather than entertain thoughts of defending her like a prince from some fairy tale. Life was not a fantasy. Though she didn’t appear to be faring much better, the way she looked at him in his suit. There was a prickling in his skin whilst she assessed him as if she were stripping him bare, breaking him down. Sometimes he wanted to know what she saw when she did that. What she was looking for when she cast her eyes over him. Did she find him lacking in any way?
Why the answer to those questions was imperative, he couldn’t say.
‘I’m a little stiff but that’s no surprise, since I haven’t ridden for almost nine years. But I had a long bath, which helped.’
Visions of her naked, lazing back in the large tub in her room, flushed with the heat of the water, assailed him and he couldn’t get rid of them. What colour her nipples would be. Whether she’d be natural or waxed bare. And now those thoughts were planted in his head, they took root like weeds. This was insanity. Usually with women he had control. Around her his control frayed and shredded like rope being hacked by a knife.
‘Excellent.’ He could make light conversation. It was one of the things at which he excelled. ‘You look...beautiful tonight.’
Not exactly where he wished to head, but he was being polite. Any man would say the same. Although it wasn’t mere politeness driving him. She looked like some sprite or will-o’-the-wisp, intent on leading him to his doom.
A soft flush of pink tinted her cheeks at the compliment. Who was there in her life to tell her she was beautiful? Was there anyone at all? The thought that no one might have said this to her recently seemed somehow wrong.
‘Thank you.’ Her voice was soft. Always that tone which was slightly lower and huskier than he expected, causing a tremor right through him, like fingernails scoring down his spine. And the change in her voice suggested that she was affected too. He grabbed on to that thought as if it were a golden nugget of hope.
He’d never had that hope or insecurity before. Women found him attractive. He had a wealth of experience to back up that certainty. But right now he didn’t care about anyone else. He only cared thatthiswoman was attracted to him, and Alessio didn’t know why it mattered. Certainty was his friend. This sensation, of standing on shifting sands, was not.
