“I’m embarrassed,” she said.
“You are?”
“How would you like it if a couple of women told the world that you’d … scratch that, you’re a man. You would probably crow about it. But that’s the thing, if I were a man it would be presented as an exploit. Ah yes, very amusing, he’s added to his list of conquests. As it is, something that never happened is being portrayed as my great downfall. Sinner that I am.”
“We’re all sinners,” he said.
“True enough,” she said, pressing in the code to her rooms and opening the doors. “I know I did some stupid things, but I didn’t do that. I wouldn’t. I have morals.” She flicked the lights on in the entryway and continued on through the sitting area and into her bedroom. “I was trying to get myself a bit of a bad reputation, yes, but not … not that bad.”
She bent down and pulled out a suitcase and put it on the bed.
“Do you want to call someone to do that?”
“I’ll do it myself,” she snapped. “I’m not an invalid. I’m not a child. I’m not a slut, either.” She pulled clothes out of her large freestanding wardrobe and started shoving them into the suitcase. “I don’t … I don’t want anyone to think I let those two …”
“No one will think much about it.”
“Yes they will, that’s why I have to leave.”
“Maybe Bastian will think about it and decide not to marry you,” he said, watching as she put shoes into the large suitcase. “Or maybe he’ll be intrigued and decide it gives him even more reason to marry you.”
She paused, her head snapping up, a look of horror crossing her face. “That’s … awful.”
“We’ll go to Switzerland, we’ll lay low for a while, and when you come back, it will have blown over. Of course your family representative will give a statement and make sure it’s known that this isn’t true. But why invite a firestorm when you can go away for a while and wait for it all to die down?”
“What are we going to do for … weeks on end?”
He could think of a few things, things that made his blood run hotter, faster. But he refused to give them voice. Refused even to let them morph into a full-color frame in his mind. The idea of two weeks alone with Eva … it brought playing with fire to mind. Like lighting a match and seeing how close he could get to the flame without burning himself. “Play board games.”
She gave him a baleful look. “Scrabble? Could be interesting. We can play in Greek, Russian and English.”
The look in her eyes, strong, her wit a bit wicked, even under the circumstances, was unexpected. She truly was an unusual woman. And far too intriguing. Still, he couldn’t resist teasing her. An inch closer to the flame. “Italian and French too, if you’d like.”
“I don’t speak Italian.”
“Then perhaps I’ll teach you Italian.”
“A productive use of time,” she said, shutting the lid on her suitcase and trying to push the locks into place. “Help me.”
She stepped out of the way and crossed her arms beneath her breasts, her expression imperious. He laughed and moved into position, pushing the lid down with one hand and locking it into place with the other.
“I helped get it started for you,” she sniffed.
He turned his head, their faces close for a moment. He stepped back before he could get a hint of her scent. It would be too much. Too hard to overcome the need to lean in and see if her skin tasted as good as it smelled. To get bolder still with the fire he knew could easily rage out of control. “Of course you did,” he said, picking the suitcase up from its place on the bed. “Ready for your very luxurious exile?”
“Only as an alternative to Alcatraz.”
Mak provided the private jet for the flight. It was a display of wealth that was beyond even her experience. Expansive and plush, with a seating area more suited to a hotel suite than a plane.
It was sort of surreal. And the beginning of real, concrete understanding about who he was. He was successful, she knew that, a billionaire as well, and she’d known that too. But suddenly, out of her father’s kingdom, thirty thousand feet above the ocean, she realized that Mak had more money and more power than the Drakos royal family.