Protected by the Prince

He leaned in. For a heart-stopping moment she wondered if he’d kiss her. She should object but her willpower seeped away. Her damp palms spread on the door behind her for support and her pulse juddered madly against her ribcage.

‘Leave it to me.’ His lips were so close Tamsin almost felt them against her skin. She sucked in a difficult breath as he spoke again in that deep, seductive whisper.

‘All you have to do is relax and enjoy.’

CHAPTER SEVEN

TAMSIN lifted a hand to her hair then changed her mind and let it fall. She didn’t want to disturb the softly elegant knot with its glittering pins or the artfully loose tendrils caressing her neck.

The dresser who’d returned this evening had done far more than zip up the dress. She’d transformed Tamsin into a woman she barely recognised. A woman who looked attractive in a way Tamsin never had before.

At first she’d thought it was simply the ball gown that made the difference. Of red silk shot with amber and gold, it was unlike anything she’d owned. From the moment she’d put it on she’d felt…special. The last of her scruples about accepting it disintegrated as she twirled before the mirror.

The bodice, cut high and straight above her breasts to leave her shoulders bare, made her look feminine and elegant. Even the fact that she’d had to go braless, relying on the dress’s hidden support in lieu of a strapless bra she didn’t own, didn’t dampen her excitement.

It was shallow of her to feel wonderful because she looked good. But Tamsin didn’t care. It was such a novel experience! Excitement bubbled in her veins. She felt she could take on the world!

For weeks Tamsin had featured in newspaper and magazine articles beside Alaric. Worst of all, the ones that made her cringe, were the ‘then and now’ pieces. Showing Alaric with previous girlfriends, all gorgeous and sophisticated. Those photos were set against pictures of Tamsin, looking anything but chic, her expression startled or, worse, besotted as she stared up at the powerful man beside her.

She wasn’t besotted. She wouldn’t let herself be.

The theme of each article had been the same. What did Alaric see in her? Those pictures had confirmed every doubt she’d harboured about herself, especially since Patrick.

More than once she’d been tempted to call a halt to this charade. She didn’t, not simply because she’d given her word, but because being with Alaric, the focus of his glowing looks, made her feel good.

Even it if was a sham, she enjoyed being with him. It was balm to her wounded soul. Was it so wrong to enjoy the pretence that he genuinely liked her?

Yet the temptation was dangerous.

Now for the first time Tamsin knew she looked like a prince’s companion. Delight filled her that this time there’d be no snide conjecture, no damning photos. This time she looked…attractive.

Tonight she’d learned so much. Things she’d always told herself she was too busy to bother with. Things her mother, so profoundly uninterested in fashion, hadn’t thought to teach her. Like what shade of eye shadow accentuated the colour of Tamsin’s eyes without being too obvious. Like how to tame her hair into a sophisticated style.

Yet the dresser said it was the glow in Tamsin’s skin, the sparkle in her eyes that made her look so good tonight.

Surely that had been a pep talk to give her confidence. Apart from the clothes and light make-up, she was the same. As she turned before the mirror, feeling the silk swirl around her legs, Tamsin experienced a prickle of unease. The colour in her cheeks was because of the dress, that’s all.

For there was only one other possible explanation. That her inner sparkle was anticipation at the idea of spending the evening with Alaric, maybe even dancing in his arms.

She stopped abruptly, letting her long skirts settle around her. No! She wouldn’t let it be so. To Alaric she was a convenient companion. She wouldn’t spin fantasies about him. These past weeks as his companion had been surprisingly delightful. She enjoyed his company. But that’s all.

The phone rang and she snatched it up, grateful for the interruption to her disturbing thoughts.

‘Tamsin? How are you, darling?’

Instantly her spine stiffened. She’d hoped not to hear that voice again for a long, long time. She’d crossed Europe to avoid this man. To pull herself together after he’d hurt her so badly. Now he had the temerity to call her darling!

‘Who is this?’

‘Ah, sweetheart, it’s Patrick of course. Are you still upset about the way we parted?’ He paused as if waiting for her to speak. ‘Didn’t I apologise?’

He’d apologised all right, while smirking at his success and her gullibility in believing he could ever interest himself in a plain Jane like her! As apologies went it had been a masterpiece of form over sentiment. He hadn’t been sorry and in that moment Tamsin had finally realised how blind she’d been to his true personality.