“I hear you have a new guard,” he said. The subject change was another time-honored tradition that came with the mention of Xander’s name.
“Oh yes, my nanny. Have you met him?”
Stavros shook his head. “But I imagine I’ll see him lurking tonight at the ball? In case you try to make a break for it?”
“You might. But I won’t. Make a break for it, I mean.” Even if she wanted to. “Will you be meeting possible princesses tonight?”
“No,” he said, putting his now-empty glass on the side table. “I’m in the process of hiring someone to handle it for me.”
“What?”
“I’ve found a woman who matches people for a living. I’ve hired her to go through profiles and help select the most qualified candidates.”
“A matchmaker?” she said.
“Not exactly. She’s an expert on compatibility and she has excellent connections.”
She snorted out a breath. “Only you would turn finding a wife into a job interview.”
“It works for finding the right employees. You use a good HR manager. The proper staff for the proper job. Why not for finding a wife?” He stood. “Good to see you, Eva. I’m sure I’ll see you again tonight.”
“Good to see you too, Stavros.”
“Be good. Don’t run off.” He walked out and closed the door behind him.
She thought about Bastian. About having to dance with him. It wasn’t as if he disgusted her or anything, but it was horrible to be in his arms and feel nothing. To have the idea that if she was his wife, and she was in his arms in bed, she would feel more of the same nothing.
Unbidden, her thoughts turned to Mak. To the night in the hall, when he’d pressed her against the wall, his hands strong on her. She’d been so very aware of him, so conscious of his strength, his heat. She’d wanted to lean into him when what she should have wanted was to pull away.
What would it be like to dance with Mak? To have his arms around her?
She shook her head and stood up from the couch. There was no point to thinking things like that. They would never happen.
Anyway, she had a ball to get to, and fantasizing about her bodyguard wasn’t going to help her get ready.
It was a good thing Eva was his target. Because there was no other woman in the room as far as he was concerned. Every gown, no matter how bright, every black tux, faded into an indiscernible mass. Unimportant. Inconsequential. There was only Eva.
She was wearing red. A deep, rich satin that crossed at the bodice and flowed away from her body. The neckline was low, revealing the plump, golden curves of her breasts, her glossy brown curls tumbled over one shoulder, full lips painted scarlet to match the gown. She was perfection. She was everything a man could want in a woman, a lover.
His body tightened, need, the sort he had spent a lifetime denying, coursing through him. Every tendon of his body, every muscle, held tight so that he couldn’t scoop her up into his arms and kiss the makeup from her sexy mouth. And she was all the way across a crowded ballroom.
If she were to come near him, if she were to touch him, his control, control he had held onto for twenty-nine years, might break beneath the strain of his desire.
He needed release. The kind he had sought in the gym for the past ten years, punishing his body, pushing it to the limit until he was too exhausted to dwell on the needs that went unsatisfied night after night.
He tightened his hands into fists and watched as she was approached by a man. He was tall, Eva only coming up to his shoulder, which put him near Mak’s own height. He looked familiar too.
When he leaned down and kissed Eva’s hand, recognition hit him. He was Bastian Van Saant, the man who was, in all likelihood, Eva’s future husband. Assuming the man didn’t find some fatal flaw in her as a choice.
Which would be impossible with her in a gown like that. She was simply flawless tonight.
Van Saant took her into his arms and swept her to the dance floor. Eva’s face looked strained as they moved in time to the music, her posture stiff.
Mak moved around the edge of the crowd of people, behind the pillars that bordered the edge of the dance floor, circling to keep tabs on Eva and her suitor. King Stephanos had been concerned that Eva might try to sneak out during the ball. Or to sneak off with someone unsuitable. Though Mak doubted she would do that.