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‘But how would I have enticed you into the maze if everything was clearly lit?’ he teased.
One eyebrow rose. ‘You enticed me?’
‘I think so.’
She gave a shrug. ‘Okay, I’ll give you that. Maybe you did.’ She kept looking out into the dark. ‘It’s beautiful out there.’ She sighed.
‘It’s beautiful in here too,’ he said huskily. She turned to face him, his hands going to her waist. ‘You did great tonight. How do you feel?’
‘Tired,’ she admitted, then gave him a confused glance. ‘What—was this some kind of test? What if I hadn’t done great?’
He shook his head. ‘No. No test. I’d never do that. But this...’ he held out his hand to the ballroom behind them ‘...this is part of my life. It always has been and it always will be. I want you to be comfortable when you’re around me, and my family.’
She stayed still for a few seconds, her dark brown eyes staring straight at him. ‘Why?’ she asked in a croaky voice.
Part of him wanted to cringe. This wasn’t the place to have this conversation. He hadn’t even really thought things through. He was acting on instinct. But every instinct was telling him the woman in his arms was his highest priority right now.
‘Because I want you to stay,’ he said.
She flinched. She actually flinched and stepped back out of his arms.
Every part of him recoiled. He’d mistimed things. She wasn’t ready to hear anything like this. Or, worst case, she didn’t feel the same way.
Arissa put her hand up to her chest. ‘But I have things to do, Philippe. I have responsibilities back in Temur Sapora—you know that. I need to find a new job.’
His heart twisted in his chest. He knew all this. He’d known all this before he’d asked her to stay. He’d known all this before he’d told her how he felt.
He wanted to take the words back. Not because he didn’t mean them—but because she wasn’t ready.
Arissa took another few steps back, nearly tripping over the fabric of her dress. ‘I... I...need...’
She looked panicked. He hated that. And he hated more that he’d done it to her.
He held up one hand. ‘You need some time. You need some space. You’re right. I’m sorry.’ He shook his head. ‘I should never have said anything.’ He gave the slightest dip of his head. ‘I’m sorry.’
Then he turned and headed back into the crowded ballroom, letting his professional Prince face slide back into place. Nodding at the right people, making all the right gestures, while all the time his heart was back out on the patio with Arissa, breaking over and over again.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
SHE STARED AT the teapot on the table in front of her. So far she’d had green tea, lemon and ginger and some kind of camomile. None of them had helped the knots in her stomach.
She was sitting bunched up on one of the chairs in her pyjamas with a blanket tucked around her shoulders. She’d seen the sun come up and the gardens gradually come to life.
Her rational brain was doing its best to kick into gear.
When Philippe had looked at her last night all the little jumbled pieces of her brain had slotted into place.
He’d asked her to stay. To stay with him.
It didn’t matter it was impossible. It didn’t matter it was crazy. What mattered was the intent. The emotion.
It had taken the feet from under her.
Arissa had always been a planner. That was how she’d got through life—meticulous planning. The fact that she’d just had a job pulled from her grasp because of visa details had completely unseated her. Things like that didn’t happen to her.
But then, things like Prince Philippe didn’t happen to her either.
After a day of being in his company she’d known that she liked him. His easy manner, his flirting, his work with the patients and interest in the people around him hadn’t escaped her notice.
As for the kisses...and the electricity between them? She couldn’t pretend it wasn’t there.
But Corinez was a whole different story. She’d already told him, but he was different here. Not in a bad way, just in a more formal way.
Someone knocked on the door. ‘Come in.’
