Confident? She’d talked too much last night as they’d visited the archives. Nerves and guilt about the risks she’d taken with his books in the library had made her overcompensate. Anxiety had made her garrulous.
‘That’s different.’ Reluctantly she lifted her chin and met his gaze. Even braced for the impact, the connection sent shock waves of pleasure racing through her. ‘I’ve worked hard to develop my expertise. My work is what I’m good at. What I love.’
Tamsin had buried herself in work for years. At first because immersing herself in books had been an escape in her lonely childhood. Then from habit, especially as a student, when her age had set her apart from older colleagues. More recently it had been easier to be a workaholic than cultivate a personal life. She shivered. Her one foray into romance had been disastrous.
She waved a hand at the court. ‘I lead a sedentary life. This is just a way to keep fit.’ And a welcome outlet for troubled emotions.
He tilted his head, his gaze shrewd. ‘Yet your focus was impressive. And your speed. You’d be a formidable opponent.’
The lazy approval was gone from his face, replaced by a seriousness that made her still.
Like last night Tamsin again had the suspicion he saw her: not just her academic reputation, but whole, talents and doubts, confidence and uncertainties. Saw the real person.
The notion thrilled yet made her feel oddly vulnerable.
She shoved an arm into her cardigan, pulled it round and slid her other arm in. Its familiarity steadied her, a reminder of her everyday world, devoid of handsome princes with dark chocolate voices.
She opened the case in her hands to take out her glasses. She felt naked meeting his scrutiny without them. But the sudden intensity of his stare arrested her. She closed the case with a snap.
‘Hardly formidable, Your Highness. But thank you for the compliment.’
She made to turn away then stopped. This might be her only chance to talk to him. After today he’d probably be as elusive as before.
Steadfastly Tamsin ignored a sudden pang of disappointment. They had nothing in common. What did it matter if she never saw him again?
‘Tomorrow, could I work on the text again? I’m eager to make more progress.’
‘I’m sure you are.’ Yet there was no answering enthusiasm in his face. If he was excited about the possibility of becoming monarch he hid it. His expression was flinty.
Had she said something wrong?
Finally he nodded. ‘It will be brought to you tomorrow so you can pursue your…investigations.’
Tamsin sat absorbed, one bare foot tucked beneath her.
The more she delved into this manuscript, the more it fascinated. The choice of words, the phrasing, it was unique, even without the bombshell revelation that generations ago the wrong heir had become king. The intricate detail about life at court was incredible.
Take this word. She tilted her lamp to better view the idiosyncratic spelling. It should mean…
She paused, frowning as her thoughts strayed.
There was no sound, no movement on the periphery of her vision. Yet suddenly her focus was shot. The hairs on her arms prickled in atavistic awareness. Did she imagine a change in the atmosphere?
Tamsin focused again, trying to fathom the meaning of a convoluted sentence. Yet the more she tried to concentrate the more aware she became of…something else.
Finally in exasperation she looked up. And saw him.
The overhead lights were on against the fading afternoon. He stood under one, his black hair glossy in the spill of light. He was motionless, feet apart and hands in pockets in a masculine stance that reinforced the air of tough capability she’d noticed from the first.
Her heart throbbed an agitated tattoo. How long had he silently watched her? Why did he look so grim?
More than that, she wondered, as she sat back in her seat, what was he doing here?
‘You’ve been working since seven-thirty this morning and you barely paused for lunch.’ He dragged his hands from his pockets and approached. ‘It’s time you stopped.’
Tamsin frowned. ‘You’re keeping tabs on me?’ She didn’t feel indignant. She was too busy grappling with surprise.
He shrugged those superb shoulders and she stifled rising awareness. ‘My staff have upped security given the importance of your find. I asked them to keep me informed.’
Informed of her meal breaks? Surely he had more on his mind than that? She opened her mouth to question him.
‘You’re translating?’ He leaned over, one broad hand on the desk just inches from the manuscript.
Unaccountably heat washed her as she stared at his long fingers splayed close to hers. His masculine scent made her draw a deep, appreciative breath.