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Sara began to open the door. He had no doubt she’d say no to her parents. But what if that didn’t change anything? If he read in the papers that she’d ended up with the toad she feared her parents wanted her to marry? Lance knew he’d never forgive himself.
He hadn’t been able to save Victoria, but he could try to save another woman. Getting her out of the country would be easy, he had a private jet waiting for him at the airport. In the end, some small redemption might come from the golden-haired angel in front of him.
‘Stay. Please.’ He walked towards her and put his hand on the door above her head, gently closing it. Keeping her in. Hopefully keeping her safe. ‘I’ll help you get away.’
Sara slumped against the door. Lance stood perilously close, his hand above her head, crowding her. As he had when he’d stalked towards her with intent and cupped her cheek as if he was going to kiss her. She took a deep breath, overwhelmed by the warmth of his body. The scent of him. The hint of leather from his casual jacket, which still seemed to cling to his skin, and another scent, something earthy and intoxicating. She closed her eyes for a moment, wishing he’d drop his mouth to hers. Show her what a kiss could truly be like. But she didn’t think she’d survive it. Not at the moment, when every cell in her body was exhausted. As if she could slide down the cool wood of the door and simply curl up on the floor.
Instead of doing that, she turned in the cage of his body and looked up at him. His eyes were searching her face. She sensed everything was fragile—this seeming truce, his agreement to help her. She wanted to ask why, after being so cruel to her, but she couldn’t. If she said anything he might send her away again, and she couldn’t go back.
‘Thank you.’ The words were soft and breathy, hardly sounding like hers at all because she almost couldn’t get enough air with him so close.
He pushed away from her and walked over to the cabinet again. She felt as if all the light and warmth had been taken from her. She wanted it back.
‘I’m having another drink.’ He held up a glass, raised his eyebrows. He looked more casual today, in jeans that hung low on his narrow hips, a crisp white shirt moulding to the expanse of his muscular chest. The dark leather jacket made him look in some way almost...dangerous. ‘Want one?’
Sara nodded, unable to say anything. She walked over to the couch and sank into it again. Leaning back into the down-stuffed cushions, her eyelids felt heavy. If she closed them, she could sleep for a hundred years.
Lance strolled over to her calmly, with his long, swaggering gait. He looked so relaxed it was as if this sort of thing happened to him every day—being begged for assistance by damsels in distress. He handed her a glass with a long pour of amber fluid. She took it and sipped. The peaty taste burned her throat, making her cough, but she didn’t care. This might numb all those feelings, and she wanted to feel numb, for a little while. Feelings were overrated.
Lance sprawled in the armchair opposite her. ‘Why do you think your parents are planning another marriage for you?’
Sara toyed with the sparkling crystal tumbler. The reasons were many. She’d guessed her parents’ coffers were running low. Paintings had mysteriously gone missing from walls, rooms looking a little bare as furniture disappeared. The hint that her engagement ring didn’t need to go back to the royal vault, that it could stay with them. She wasn’t a fool—she knew what that meant. She’d just never thought they’d sell her off. More than once, anyhow.
‘Well, none of my parents’ friends trust the Queen, and the King—’
‘Oh, I know what they think of him.’
‘But it’s more. If I’d been Queen it would have given them the ultimate power and prestige. Opened even more doors. Now that’s all gone. They’re afraid of losing what they’d come to expect. And they can’t afford to lose any more. They might say it’s only a job they want me to take, a chance to finally use my art degree, but Iknowit’s more. They made hints at the wedding. It’s also the way that man looks at me. Like I’m a...’ Sara shuddered again.
She was no fool. The man looked at her as if she were a smorgasbord and he was starving. As if he wereentitledto her, talking about a long and bountiful future she didn’t want and had no interest in.
‘Who’s your new intended?’ Lance’s voice was cold as a winter ice storm.
‘Lord Scharf.’
He took a long slug of his drink. Raked a hand through his hair. ‘The man’s over forty.’
‘I know.’
‘You’re right, he looks exactly like a toad. We can’t have you marrying that. You deserve someone dashing.’ Sara trembled. The liquid in her glass quivered. She took another sip, yet the shaking wouldn’t stop. A slight crease formed between Lance’s brows. ‘Do you want a blanket?’
Sara wanted to curl up in something soft, and sleep. Instead she inclined her glass to him. ‘This’ll warm me up. And I don’t need to marry anyone.’
She wanted to live her life on her own terms for once. Not be beholden to a man, to any person. She’d had enough of being compliant, of not speaking up, for a lifetime. All she wanted was room to be herself for a while. Deciding what she really wanted could come later.
‘A woman after my own heart. Whatdoyou need?’ Lance might have looked as if he were lounging in the chair, slouching in a masculine kind of way. Yet there was a tension about him, like a wildcat ready to spring.
What she needed was some fun and adventure. To experience more of the feeling she’d had when she’d danced with him. The thrill of doing things she shouldn’t. Of not being perfect all the time. Taking a little for herself. Of having achoice, not being dictated to by others. Being held in the arms of a man who looked at her as if she were the centre of his universe. She neededlotsof things. But she hadn’t really prepared for any of them beyond finding Lance and convincing him to help her. All she’d really done was grab the parure as she’d fled the only home she’d ever known.
Here, she was weak, completely worn down and fragile from the years of having no real control over her life. She supposed she could go to the Queen to ask for help, but Annalise was newly married—and what could she say?Your brother didn’t love me and he was cheating on me. My parents didn’t care. They want me to marry someone else.Lise had only just buried her family. Sara wouldn’t add to the complications in her friend’s life, or to her grief.
She took a final sip of her drink. ‘I need a place to...hide for a little while.’
Lance blew out a long breath and looked about the room, then to her oversized tote. ‘Have you got another bag? Clothes?’
‘No. I... I grabbed some...’ her cheeks heated ‘...underwear.’
She’d not planned in the end, just snatched some things and fled.
