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‘Jasmine,’ she responded.
‘Crazy, isn’t it?’
Startled, Jasmine glanced sideways to him. ‘Sorry?’
He nodded to the group of men taking their seats at the far end of the long banquet table. ‘Unbelievable that between the two of them, those men control nearly half of the steel and precious gems in the world.’
Unwilling to disclose her ignorance, she murmured, ‘Right.’
‘Shame their trade relations are in a shambles, though. Hopefully once the treaty is signed, there should be some semblance of order, otherwise the chaos will only get worse.’ He shook his head. ‘Prince Reyes has done an outstanding job of bringing the treaty to fruition, though. Have to commend him on that.’ He took a healthy gulp of champagne.
Sneaking in a breath to calm her screeching nerves, she casually asked, ‘Which one is Prince Reyes?’
He looked puzzled for a second, then he shrugged. ‘I understand how you might be confused. They’re descended from the same bloodline, after all.’ He nodded to the men. ‘Mendez, the shorter one who rocked up in the speedboat, is the birthday boy celebrating the big four-oh. He’s in charge of Valderra, the larger of the two kingdoms. The taller one at the head of the table, talking to the prime minster, is Reyes. Don’t get me wrong, his might be the smaller of the kingdoms, but Santo Sierra is definitely the big kahuna.’
Jasmine’s throat threatened to close up as she absorbed the information. Her fingers clenched around her cutlery as ice drenched her blood.
The lights went up just then and two officious-looking men stepped up to the twin podiums carrying black briefcases. Heart in her throat, she realised what she’d done.
She’d been speaking to Prince Reyes Navarre all along!
And she’d told him her name!
After a short speech, the first stage of the treaty signing was completed. Jasmine watched as the documents were placed back in the briefcases.
Clammy sweat soaked her palms. Carefully, she set down her knife and fork. Every instinct told her to get up. Run. Not stop until she was on the next plane back to London.
But how could she? Even if she sold her two-bedroom East London flat and somehow found the balance to pay the half a million pounds owed to Joaquin, the loan shark still possessed enough documentary evidence to bury her stepfather.
Jasmine’s heart lurched at the thought. Her family was far from perfect, but Stephen Nichols had single-handedly ensured she and her mother had been given a much-needed second chance. There was no way Jasmine was going to turn her back on him now.
Nervously, she swallowed the moisture in her mouth. ‘You mean, Prince Reyes is the tall one...’ with the impossibly broad shoulders, sad eyes and expressive, elegant hands, she nearly blurted out.
‘Looking our way right now,’ her table companion muttered, a vein of surprise trailing his voice.
Her head jerked up and slate-grey eyes locked on hers. Even from the length of the banquet table, the stranger from the terrace loomed larger than life, his stare unwavering.
Except he wasn’t an intriguing stranger any more.
He was the man she’d come to steal from.
CHAPTER TWO
SHAME SHOULD HAVE been the paramount emotion ruling Jasmine as her gaze remained trapped in Prince Reyes’s stare.
Instead, the alien emotion from earlier pulsed through her again, and, impossibly, everything and everyone seemed to fade away. Even the sound of her own breathing slowed until she barely knew whether she breathed in or out.
Alarmed and more than a little unsettled, Jasmine wrenched her gaze away. All through the meal she barely tasted, she forced herself to make light conversation with Josh. But even with her focus firmly turned away from Prince Reyes, she could feel his stare, heavy and speculative, on her.
Now, realising just how precarious a position she’d put herself in, Jasmine was barely able to hold it together. Which was why she didn’t hear Josh clear his throat.
Once. Twice.
Her gaze jerked up to find Prince Reyes Navarre standing next to her. Startled, she dropped the knife and cringed as it clattered onto her plate.
‘Miss Nichols, was your meal satisfactory?’ He glanced pointedly at her half-eaten meal.
Aware of the countless pairs of eyes on her, Jasmine wasn’t sure whether to remain seated or stand and curtsy. She opted to remain seated. ‘Y-yes, it was, thank you.’
‘I am not interrupting, I hope?’ A glance at Josh that was at once courteous and incisive.
