Protected by the Prince

‘I’m sorry, I—’

Her words cut out as the ladder moved beneath her, a rhythmic sway as he nimbly closed the distance between them.

Tamsin became excruciatingly self-aware as his ascent slowed. Warm breath feathered her bare ankle then shivered against her calf and to her horror she couldn’t repress a delicious little shudder.

A moment later a dark head appeared in the V between her splayed knees. Something hard and hot plunged down through her abdomen as she met his gaze.

From metres away this man was stunning. Up close, where she could see the twinkle lurking in midnight-blue eyes and the sensuous curve of his full lower lip, he stole her breath. Tiny lines beside his mouth and eyes spoke of experience and a grim endurance at odds with his easy humour. Yet they only accentuated his attractiveness.

Her heart beat a rapid tattoo that pulsed adrenaline through her body and robbed her of coherent thought.

‘Allow me.’ Large hands reached out and scooped the book from her lap, barely ruffling her skirt. Yet his heat seared through her clothing and suddenly she felt dizzy. She clutched the herbal to her breast.

Then he was gone, swarming down the ladder with an ease that spoke of supreme fitness and agility.

Tamsin drew a deep breath into constricted lungs, searching for composure. She’d never been distracted by male beauty before. She dismissed as irrelevant the knowledge that she’d never seen anyone so magnificent.

She shook her head. He’s just a man, just—

‘This one, too.’ There he was again. She’d been so caught up in her thoughts she hadn’t noticed his rapid ascent. He reached for the book in her arms.

‘It’s all right. I can carry it.’ For suddenly, close enough to inhale his subtle spice and forest and man scent, she didn’t want to relinquish the barrier between them. She clung to it like a talisman.

‘We don’t want to risk another accident,’ he drawled in his easy, perfect English. ‘Do we, Cinderella?’

‘I’m not…’ She stopped herself. Despite his mock serious expression there was amusement in his eyes.

Anger welled. Self-consciousness tightened her stomach. Patrick laughed at her too. All her life she’d been a misfit, a figure of speculation and amusement. She’d learned to pretend not to notice but still it hurt.

Yet this was her fault. She’d put herself in this ridiculous position because she’d been too curious to sit meekly waiting. She’d never be taken seriously now. Just when it was vital she win confidence and trust.

Had she single-handedly wrecked her chance of success?

Summoning the scraps of her dignity she unclamped stiff fingers and lowered the volume into his waiting hands.

Calloused fingers brushed hers through the thin gloves she’d donned to protect the books. An electric shock shot up her arm and across her breasts. She jerked her hands away.

Tamsin bit the inside of her cheek and looked away from his knowing gaze, her emotions too raw for comfort.

He stood still. She felt his stare, tangible as a trailing touch, move across her face to her throat then back up again. Her breathing shallowed.

She told herself she was used to being a curiosity, out of step with her peers. Stubbornly she ignored the hurt lancing her chest.

An instant later he clattered back down the ladder and she let out her breath in a sigh.

Time to climb down and face the music. She unfolded the leg tucked beneath her. Pins and needles prickled, proof she’d sat here longer than she’d realised. Gingerly she wriggled, pulling the bunched hem of her skirt down where it had rucked up. Grasping the ladder she rose, ready to turn.

His appearance before her prevented her moving.

‘I need space to turn around.’ Her voice was betrayingly uneven.

Instead of descending, he rose, his hands grasping the top of the ladder so his broad shoulders and powerful arms surrounded her.

Something fluttered in Tamsin’s chest at the sensation of being caught within his embrace, though he didn’t touch her. The force field of his presence engulfed her. It made her feel small and vulnerable and edgy.

Her breath hissed in.

His head was at breast height now. She leaned back towards the shelving, trying to put space between them.

‘Whoa. Easy now.’ His deep voice lowered to a soothing pitch, as if steadying a fractious animal.

‘I can climb down alone.’ Her words were sharper than she’d intended, betraying her embarrassment at the storm of inexplicable reactions bombarding her.

‘Of course you can.’ His lips pursed ruminatively, drawing her eyes. Heat washed her neck and cheeks as she stared. In a less rugged face that perfect mouth would look almost feminine. But on him those lips simply looked sensuous and dangerously inviting.