Protected by the Prince - Page 40

Kidnapping was virtually an inherited skill.

CHAPTER NINE

‘GOOD morning, Tamsin.’

Her shoulders stiffened and heat crawled up her cheeks as that low voice wound its lazy way into her soul.

Her assistant’s eyes widened as he looked over her shoulder then darted her a speculative glance. Castle gossip had obviously worked overtime since last night.

Tamsin steadied herself against the archive room’s custom built storage units. Finally she turned. She’d been expecting a summons. Even so, facing the man who’d stripped her emotionally bare took all her willpower.

She’d spent the night awake, trying to make sense of the evening’s events. For the first few hours she’d half expected Alaric to come to her once his duties were over. Despite her doubts and her pride she’d have welcomed him.

It had only been as dawn arrived she’d realised he had no intention of visiting her. She preferred not to remember her desolation then.

‘Hello…’ She halted, her mouth drying as that familiar indigo gaze met hers. What should she call him? It had been Alaric until his steward had found them together. Then they’d been Dr Connors and Your Highness. The formality had been a slap in the face, even if it had been an attempt to hide what they’d been doing.

Here he was in her domain, alone, without any secretaries or security staff. What did he want?

Her blush burned fiery and she saw something flicker in his eyes. Awareness? Desire? Or distaste?

Tamsin had no idea what he felt. Last night his urgency, his arousal and his words had convinced her he felt the same compulsion she did. But later doubts had crept in.

‘How are you today?’ His voice held only polite enquiry but she could have sworn she saw something more profound in his expression.

Or was that wishful thinking?

‘Well, thank you.’ Again she hesitated. Despite his slightly drawn look, she wasn’t going to ask him how he was. ‘Have you come to see our progress?’

Grimacing at her falsely bright tone, ignoring her staccato pulse, she gestured for him to accompany her to her small office space. She’d feel better knowing every word wasn’t overheard.

‘Partly.’ They reached her desk and Alaric spun round, his gaze intense. ‘Why? Do you want to tell me something?’

Tamsin opened her mouth then shut it, frowning.

Last night there’d been no opportunity to tell him about the dating of the manuscript. Alone with him in the antechamber all thought of the document had been blasted from her mind by Alaric and the things he made her feel.

Her gaze skittered away as she recalled what they’d done. Even now desire throbbed deep in her belly and at the apex of her thighs. That persistent current of awareness eroded her efforts to appear unaffected.

She should tell him about the test results, yet she hesitated. Tamsin believed him now when he said he didn’t want the crown. For whatever reason, the idea was anathema to him. It was a shame. She’d seen him in action these past couple of weeks and he’d make a terrific king. The easy way he related to people, truly listened to them. His sharp mind and ability to get things done. His need to help.

She read his taut stillness as he awaited her response.

Should she confirm his fears when in her own mind she wasn’t fully convinced? Despite Patrick’s news some things in the document still needed checking.

Tamsin shrugged stiffly and tidied her desk.

‘The new staff have been worth their weight in gold. We’re making good headway.’

‘Excellent.’ He paused as if waiting. ‘And the chronicle? Anything interesting in your translations?’

‘No.’ It wasn’t lying. She hadn’t uncovered any more revelations.

Alaric’s silence eventually made her look up. His expression was unreadable but there was a keenness, an intensity in his scrutiny that unnerved her.

‘I should have more information for you soon.’

If she didn’t uncover anything to justify her niggle of uncertainty by the end of the week, two days away, she’d break the news about the UK tests.

Strange, this sense that in being cautious she protected Alaric. She’d never met anyone so obviously capable, so patently self-sufficient.

Yet she couldn’t shake the feeling that beneath it all, in this one thing Alaric was vulnerable.

‘Good.’ He reached out and fingered the spine of a catalogue.

Tamsin watched the leisurely caress, recalling how he’d stroked her last night. The touch of those large hands had been so exquisite she’d thought she’d shatter if he stopped.

She shivered and suddenly she was caught in the darkening brilliance of his eyes. Heat eddied low and spread in lush, drugging waves as she read his expression. The hungry yearning he couldn’t hide.

Tags: Annie West Billionaire Romance
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