Defying the Prince

‘Seriously underestimated me?’

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‘I try to resist the overuse of adverbs.’

She smiled sweetly, enjoying the moment. ‘In other words you find it tough to admit you’re wrong.’

He ignored that. ‘Have you ever worked with a record producer? Used a recording studio?’

‘Only when I did Singing Star and that was a disaster as everyone is always reminding me. Usually I do it myself. I saved up for some software. It’s got a midi sequencer and audio recording so sometimes I use that. I tried songwriting software but it kept generating melodies I thought were rubbish. Occasionally I go along to the local sixth form college—they have a basic recording studio I can use.’ Izzy was just eyeing the bathroom and wondering if she could surreptitiously disappear and put on some make-up when the prince took her hand and pulled her towards the door.

‘We have work to do.’

‘Now? It’s three in the morning, and—’ I’m dressed in my pyjamas, she thought, but the prince was already propelling her out of the door, displaying a level of energy lesser mortals could only envy. ‘Where are we going?’ She lowered her voice as she jogged alongside him. ‘I hope we don’t bump into anyone. This is too embarrassing.’

‘Everyone is asleep. And we’re going to my office. I want to play some tracks to you.’ He flicked on a light, strode over to his desk and hit a button on the computer. Music throbbed through the office. ‘I want your opinion.’ He sprawled in the chair and her eyes slid to his long, powerful legs.

This was the first time she’d seen him casually dressed but the soft shirt and black jeans simply added to his sex appeal.

Izzy struggled to keep her mind on the task in hand. ‘No one has ever asked my opinion on anything before.’

‘I’m asking for it now.’

She listened and pulled a face. ‘Truthfully? It’s awful.’

‘Why?’

‘Because it’s so depressing it makes me want to slit my own throat. I assume that’s not the effect you’re looking for.’

The tightening of his mouth suggested that it wasn’t. ‘I’m looking for emotional.’

‘Miserable and emotional are not the same thing.’ Suddenly worried that her pyjamas might be see-though under the lights, she sprang onto the soft couch in the corner of his office and tucked her legs under her. ‘If I’m supposed to give an opinion, you’d better start by telling me what this song is for?’

‘It’s the charity single to be released ahead of this year’s Rock ‘n’ Royal concert.’

Her stomach flipped as she realised he was involving her in something of enormous importance. ‘So you need something with instant appeal that people are going to want to download straightaway. Unless they’re contemplating suicide, it isn’t going to be that track you just played. Is that all you’ve got?’ She tried to focus on the music and not the shadow darkening his jaw or those long strong fingers resting on his thigh. She should have felt exhausted but instead she felt more alive than she could ever remember feeling.

He played another track and she instantly shook her head. ‘The phrasing is wrong. The whole thing is too … too … waffly. I think they’ve tried to keep it interesting by avoiding repetition but they’ve managed to produce something that just isn’t memorable. You want something that people are going to be singing in the bath and in their car. What you have is instantly forgettable. Next.’ She could have sat there all night with him, listening to music and exchanging opinions with that warm glow inside her and the almost euphoric feeling of happiness.

He played another track and a hard, pounding rhythm filled the room.

Izzy winced. ‘It’s a good track to have sex to, but I’m presuming that isn’t the effect you’re going for.’ She spoke without thinking and their eyes met.

Shaken by the raw power of the attraction, Izzy pressed herself back against the sofa and wished she’d dressed in something more sophisticated than frog pyjamas.

Again he switched the track but Izzy was finding it harder and harder to concentrate on anything except the man sprawled on the other side of the room.

‘So?’ He switched off the final track and the sudden silence intensified the electric atmosphere of the room.

‘None of those is right.’

‘I agree.’ He was silent for a moment, his eyes narrowed as he watched her. ‘I know what I want.’

So did she.

She forgot all about the music and the fact that this was her dream. She forgot about the Rock ‘n’ Royal concert. She forgot about everything except the man. ‘Yes.’

‘I want your song.’