‘They’ll be waiting for you in the royal box.’ Her husky voice cut through his disturbingly explicit thoughts, and she hesitated for a moment and then walked over to him.
‘Y-your Highness—are you all right?’
Casper stared down into warm green eyes, saw concern there, and suddenly the urge not to let her go was almost painful. There was something hopeful and optimistic about her, and he sensed she hadn’t yet discovered that life was a cold, hard place.
Her smile faltered as she studied the grim set of his features. ‘I guess this is what you’d call a bit of an awkward moment. So—well—’ she waved a hand ‘—I have to get back to work and you—well…’ Her voice tailed off and her white teeth clamped her lower lip. Then she took a deep breath, closed the gap between them, stood on tiptoe and kissed him on the mouth. ‘Thank you,’ she whispered. ‘Thank you for what you’ve given me.’
Caught by surprise, Casper stood frozen to the spot, enveloped by a warm, soft woman. She tasted of strawberries and summer and an immediate explosion of lust gripped his body.
So he wasn’t dead, then, he thought absently, part of him removed from what was happening. Some things he could still feel.
And then he heard a massive cheer from the crowd behind him and knew instantly what had happened.
Not so innocent, he thought grimly. Not so innocent that she didn’t know how to work the press to her advantage. She was kissing him in the window, in full view of the cameras covering the game and the crowd.
Cameras that were now focusing on them.
She might have been sexually inexperienced, but clearly that hadn’t prevented her from having a plan.
Surprised that he was still capable of feeling disillusioned and furious with himself for making such an elemental mistake, Casper locked his fingers round her wrists and withdrew her arms from his neck.
‘You can stop now. If you look behind me, I think you’ll find that you’ve achieved your objective.’
Confusion flickered in her eyes and then her attention fixed on something behind him. ‘Oh my God.’ Her hand covered her mouth. ‘H—how did you know?’ Her voice was an appalled whisper and she glanced at him in desperate panic. ‘They filmed me kissing you. And it’s up on the giant screens.’ Her voice rose, her cheeks were scarlet, and her reluctant glance towards the stadium ended in a moan of disbelief. ‘They’re playing it again and again. Oh God, I can’t believe this—it looks as though I’m—and my hair is all over the place and my bottom looks huge, and—everyone is looking.’
His eyes on the pitch, Casper watched with cool detachment as his friend, the England captain, hit a post with a drop-goal attempt.
‘More importantly, you just cost England three points.’
With cold detachment, he realised that he was now going to have to brief his security team to get her out of here, but before he could speak she gave him a reproachful look and sped to the door.
‘Do not leave this room,’ Casper thundered, but she ignored him, tugged open the door, slipped between two of his security guards and sprinted out of sight.
Unaccustomed to having his orders ignored, Casper stood in stunned silence for a few precious seconds and then delivered a single command to his Head of Security. ‘Find her.’
‘Can you give me her name, Your Highness?’
Casper stared through the door. ‘No,’ he said grimly. ‘I can’t.’
All he knew was that she clearly wasn’t as innocent as he’d first thought.
Feeling nothing except a desperate desire to hide from the world, Holly sprinted out of the room, shrinking as she passed a television screen in time to overhear the commentator say, ‘Looks like the opening score goes to Prince Casper.’
Hurtling down the stairs, she ran straight into her boss, who was marching up the stairs towards the President’s Suite like a general leading an invading army onto enemy territory.
‘Sylvia.’ Her breath coming in pants, Holly stared at the other woman in horrified silence, noticing the blaze of fury in her eyes and the tightness of her lips.
‘How dare you?’ Sylvia’s voice shook with anger. ‘How dare you humiliate me in this way? I picked you especially because I thought you were sensible and decent. And you have destroyed the reputation of my company!’
‘No!’ Horribly guilty, overwhelmed by panic and humiliation, Holly shook her head. ‘They don’t even know who I am, and—’
‘The British tabloid press will have your name before you’re out of the stadium,’ Sylvia spat. ‘The entire nation heard the commentator say “That’s one girl who isn’t lying back thinking of England”. If you wanted sleazy notoriety, then you’ve got it.’
Holly flinched under the verbal blows, feeling as vulnerable as a little rowing boat caught in a heavy storm out at sea. What had she done? This wasn’t a little transgression that would remain her private secret. This was—this was…‘Prince Casper has kissed lots of women,’ she muttered. ‘So it won’t be much of a story—’
‘You’re a waitress!’ Sylvia was shaking with anger. ‘Of course it’s a story!’
Holly stared at her in appalled silence, realising that she hadn’t once given any thought to the consequences of what they were doing. She hadn’t thought at all. It had been impulse, chemistry, intimacy; she bit back a hysterical laugh.