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‘Is your phone turned off?’
She nodded. ‘When I left home.’
‘Then keep it off. And you needn’t worry. They’ll believe me and, even if they don’t, I enjoy trouble and loathe bullies. But are you certain you want a scandal?’
‘Even when I have no idea what kind of scandal I want?’
He smiled then, a wicked smirk that made her overheated and trembling. Once again, here was the man she’d read about in the media. The bad boy they loved to write about.
‘Luckily I’m an expert. I can guide you. How about one where you’re protected? You’ll look naïve at the end, but you can walk away with your head held high. And you’ll be untouchable.’
‘That sounds perfect. What are you planning?’
‘An engagement.’
She sat on the edge of the bed then, because the shock at his comment meant her legs couldn’t be trusted to support her. ‘What?’
‘Of convenience. Your parents seem to be worried you’ve fallen under my spell. Let’s make it real. If we’re pulled up here or at the airport, we’ll say it was love at first sight and we’re engaged. The press will lap up the story of a romance out of the ashes of your heartbreak. No one will try to take you away from me after that. Once you’ve found your feet, you can break the engagement off and give a tearful interview to the press.’
‘Saying you had an affair?’
He frowned. ‘No matter what the tabloids claim, I’d never be unfaithful. You could simply confirm I’m the wastrel they say I am. You’ll look a little naïve and I’ll look like the cad.’
‘But you’re not.’
‘The press say I’m the Dastardly Duke.’
It was her turn to frown. She didn’t care what the press thought of him really. She wondered what Lance thought ofhimself,though. ‘In my opinion Dashing Duke would be a better description.’
He shrugged. ‘Whatever the adjective, it solves a problem. I can appear suitably heartbroken for a while before returning to my old ways. What do you say? My jet’s scheduled to fly out tomorrow morning. We can be in London by lunchtime, with the scandal well underway.’
It sounded thrilling, it was everything she’d been hoping for, except... She dropped her head to her hands and groaned.
‘I’d like to say,Let’s go!But I don’t have my passport.’
‘You have clean underwear but no means of escape.’ He chuckled, the sound deep and throaty as it rumbled right through her. ‘Well, Ihavebeen in stickier situations. Leave it with me. Since I happen to know Lauritania’s King.’
CHAPTER FOUR
LANCESATBACKon one of the deep, comfortable seats of the jet, watching the sleeping form of Sara in front of him. She was lying still in her reclined chair, her chest rising and falling gently, her pale lashes fanning her cheeks. Rose-coloured lips were slightly parted. Her knees barely brushed his. At least the dark smudges under her eyes were halfway gone after she’d fallen exhausted into his bed the night before.
He’d been a gentleman for once and taken the couch. Lying back, he thought how delectable and fragile she’d looked wearing one of his shirts, since she’d brought nothing with her except clean underwear, which he steadfastly refused to think about any more, because visions of whether they were lace or plain, matching or contrasting, conservative or risqué had plagued his thoughts for most of the night. At least he’d had work to do, things to keep him occupied. Usually his escapades were unplanned adventures, where he relished the spontaneity. This type of scandal required planning, so he’d put his wakefulness to good use. He only hoped Sara would be pleased with his efforts.
Their escape in the morning, such as it was, had gone smoothly. No one had questioned her as Sara had crept from the hotel to a waiting car whilst he checked out. The cloak-and-dagger nature of it had set his heart racing. Even for him, helping a damsel in distress flee a country was something new. Her passport was freshly minted and delivered early morning via special courier. Lance smiled. Knowing a king proved to have some benefits, even though Rafe had been somewhat chastened and mysteriously wandering about the palace cellars when Lance had arrived. There was a story there that one day he might try to discover, but not now. He had better things to turn his attention to. Putting a smile back on Sara’s beautiful face was one of them.
She needed some joy, that was clear. If he still had a heart, finding her huddled in the cupboard behind his clothes would have broken it. As it was, all he could do for the woman in front of him was hold her as she sobbed. And wasn’t he the bastard to relish the emotion that brought her into his arms again? Clutching at him as if he were the only thing keeping her afloat. All soft and sweet-smelling, like a flower garden. Then when she’d started petting him like a cat he’d wanted to purr under her fingers. Have her touch bare skin rather than a cursed shirt.
Those insidious thoughts burrowed deep and low. Enticing imaginings that would have had him undoing the top button on his shirt, had he been dressed more formally. As it was, Lance adjusted himself in his seat. The whole episode had been entirely innocent from her perspective. Nothing to get excited about, but still he anticipated the next moment when Sara might look at him as if he were her eternal saviour...
The seatbelt light flicked on with a chime. The flight attendant walked through to remind them to return their seat backs to the upright position as they prepared for landing. Sara opened bleary eyes, blinked a few times and stretched like a kitten in the sunshine.
‘Almost there,’ he said. She arched her arms back above her head, the sombre shirt she wore stretching tight over her breasts in a way that was far too distracting. He took a final mouthful of the champagne they’d been given to carry them through the three-hour flight. ‘Are you ready for what’s to come?’
‘What’s that?’
Perhaps he should simply have helped her escape the country and then let her go. But she still carried a pale, haunted look that spoke of her family’s, and perhaps the world’s, betrayal. He’d couldn’t leave her to whatever wolves might lurk out there, wanting to take a bite of this pretty little lamb.
‘The press. A fiancée’s going to cause a certain stir. I’m an avowed bachelor who doesn’t want to do his ducal duty and breed.’
