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Princess Hulda was wearing a black satin ball gown with a voluminous skirt made up of layers of ruffles, which had the unfortunate effect of emphasising her rather dumpy figure. Her silver hair was swept off her face in a severe style, and around her throat was a necklace of blood-red rubies.
The Princess gave Arielle an assessing look. ‘Do your family own land in Cornwall, Miss Tremain?’
‘Er...no, ma’am. We had a smallholding and kept a few sheep, but the land and cottage were rented.’
‘Is your father successful in business?’
Arielle froze. ‘My father?’ She pictured Gerran Rowse the last time she had seen him as he had been led away from the court to begin a life sentence in prison. He had not looked at her once during the trial, but he’d never been interested in his daughter.
‘Arielle does not have any family,’ Eirik said, breaking the awkward silence that had fallen while she’d tried to think of something to say.
‘How sad.’ Princess Hulda’s eyes were light grey, almost colourless, and cold. ‘That is a very beautiful necklace you are wearing. A family heirloom, perhaps?’
‘Um...no.’ Arielle could not explain to herself why she was reluctant to tell the Princess that Eirik had lent her the emeralds to wear to the ball. She was relieved when Princess Hulda turned her gaze on her son. The dismissal was subtle, but Arielle felt as unimportant as the Princess had obviously intended her to feel.
‘Eirik, I am feeling a little weary. I would like you to escort me to my private sitting room and ask my lady-in-waiting to come to me. I believe you will find Ida with Baron Lundberg in the orangery.’
‘Of course, Mama.’ Eirik’s expression was unreadable. He turned to Arielle and said coolly, ‘I hope you enjoy the rest of the ball, Miss Tremain.’
Princess Hulda took her son’s arm and did not glance at Arielle. She might as well have been invisible, she thought as she watched Eirik escort his mother out of the ballroom. There were several hundred guests at the ball, but Arielle had never felt more alone. She touched the emerald necklace that Eirik had arranged for her to wear so that she fitted in with the high-society guests. Why had she thought she could belong in his rarefied world for even a few hours?
No one took any notice of her when she walked out of the ballroom. She looked for Gustav, hoping to return the necklace and earrings to him, but there was no sign of him, and she soon lost her way when she tried to find the study, thinking she could replace the jewellery in the bureau.
A damp nose nudged her hand. Eirik’s dog, Maks, trotted down the corridor and Arielle followed him. ‘You want to go outside, do you?’ she said as the dog scratched on a door. Through the window she could see a dark garden. An icy blast of air struck her when she opened the door. Maks nudged her again as if he wanted her to follow him. ‘Can you just get on and do what you need to do?’ she told him. ‘It’s freezing out here.’
The frost on the lawn sparkled in the starlight. Arielle hugged her arms around her as the big dog gently pushed her along the path. In the pearly glimmer of the moon, she saw a wooden arbour and Eirik sprawled on the bench seat. Her heart hammered as she walked towards him and felt his intense blue gaze on her.
He had removed his masquerade mask, and the moonlight danced over his sculpted cheekbones. His bow tie was hanging open and he’d unfastened the top buttons of his shirt. Arielle recalled photos in celebrity magazines of a dissolute, playboy prince who had often been snapped by the paparazzi on a superyacht in St Tropez or at a nightclub in some European hotspot or other, invariably with a supermodel on his arm. But she had glimpsed another side to Eirik. He was not just a handsome hunk with a surfeit of charisma. He was trying to come to terms with his brother’s death and the role that had been thrust on him as the future monarch.
He stood up and patted the dog’s head. ‘Well done, Maks. You can go now.’
Arielle watched the dog trot back up the path towards the palace. ‘How did he know to bring me here?’
‘I told him to.’ Noticing her look of surprise, Eirik murmured, ‘Animals understand more than humans think they do. But Maks is exceptional. I’ve had him since he was a few days old. He was the runt of a litter. The gamekeeper wanted pups who would grow into strong hunting dogs, and he was going to let Maks die. But I thought he deserved a chance, so I kept him. I had to feed him from a bottle at first. The funny thing is that Maks grew up to be bigger and stronger than his siblings.’
She could very easily lose her heart to this man, Arielle thought ruefully.
Eirik frowned when he noticed her shiver. ‘You are cold. Here, wear this.’ He slipped his jacket off and draped it around her shoulders. The silk lining carried the heat of his body and the heady scent of his cologne.
‘I shouldn’t be here...with you,’ she said huskily.
He lifted his hand and wound a lock of her hair around his finger. ‘I like your hair like this, but I miss your curls.’
She gave a breathless laugh. ‘Oh, they’ll bounce back. You should see my crazy hair first thing in the morning.’
‘I would like to.’ His voice was deeper than Arielle had ever heard it, and, despite the warmth of his jacket, she shivered again. ‘I have imagined you naked in my bed,skatta. Your red curls spread across my pillows.’
‘You shouldn’t say things like that.’ She clung to her sanity as if it were a life raft and she were adrift in a stormy sea.
‘It’s the truth.’ He moved closer, and Arielle’s eyes were drawn to where his shirt was open at his throat. She longed to undo the rest of the buttons and run her hands over his bare chest. ‘For the past two weeks I have tried to forget you,’ he growled, not disguising his frustration. ‘But tonight at the ball it was hopeless. The only woman I saw was you.’
Eirik moved his other hand behind her head and untied the ribbons that secured her mask. It slipped to the ground, but neither of them noticed. His warm breath formed a gossamer cloud in the cold air, and Arielle’s lips parted of their own volition in anticipation of his kiss.
‘You are the only woman I want,’ he said in a low voice that sent another tremor through her.
Whatever was happening, whatever was about to happen, would only be for tonight. She accepted that she could never be part of Eirik’s world. But she desired him with every fibre of her body. Need made her breasts ache and evoked a deeper, more insistent throb low in her pelvis. Arielle knew she would regret it for ever if she turned down this chance to make love with the most fascinating man she’d ever met.
Eirik’s arms came round her—at last. He pulled her against his whipcord body, and he felt so good, so male and strong. Safe. Arielle tilted her face up to his in mute surrender and watched his eyes blaze.
