Shy Queen in the Royal Spotlight

‘Some people find change hard,’ she said primly. ‘It frightens them.’

‘Does it frighten you?’ He cocked his head.

‘Of course.’ She laughed. ‘But I’m determined to hide it.’

‘Why?’ He stepped closer to her. ‘You do that a lot, right? Hide your feelings. You do it well.’

‘Is that a compliment or a criticism?’ she asked lightly.

‘Maybe it’s just a comment.’ His voice dropped to that delicious softness again that implied seductive intimacy—laced with steel.

‘With no sentiment behind it?’ She shook her head. ‘There’s always a judgement. That’s what people do.’

‘True.’ He nodded. ‘You judged me.’

She stared at him.

‘My lifestyle.’ He flicked his eyebrows suggestively.

She fought back the flush. ‘I never thought you’d be so sensitive to an idle comment.’

‘It wasn’t idle and you’re still judging me right now,’ he teased. ‘You don’t know me, Hester.’

Her heart thudded. ‘I know all I need to.’

‘A bullet list of preferences that might change in an hour? That’s not knowing me.’

‘It’s just enough detail to give this believability. I don’t need to get to know you any more...’

‘Intimately?’ he suggested in that silken voice. ‘Personally?’

Those dimples were winking at her again. He was so unfairly handsome. And she’d never stood this close to someone in years. Never trusted that someone wouldn’t hurt her—with words, or a pinch or a spiteful tug of her hair. So personal space was a thing. Wary, she stepped back, even though there was a large part of her buried deep inside that didn’t want her to move in that direction at all.

‘I’m going to be your husband,’ he pointed out quietly.

‘No. You’re going to be my boss.’

‘Partner.’

‘Boss,’ she argued. ‘You’re paying me.’

‘You are afraid.’ He brushed the back of his hand across her jaw ever so lightly. ‘Tell me why.’

She froze at his caress, at his scrutiny. She couldn’t think how to answer as tension strained between them. She was torn between the desire to flee or fall into his arms. Just as she feared her control would snap, he stepped back.

The dimples broke his solemnity. ‘Come on, I have something to show you.’

She traipsed after him along endless corridors with vaulted ceilings and paintings covering every inch of the walls. Even the doors were massive. ‘I’m never going to find my way back here. I need breadcrumbs or something.’

He laughed and pushed open yet another door. ‘This is your space.’

‘My space?’

‘Your apartment.’

Her what? She stepped inside and took a second to process the stunningly ornate antechamber.

‘It spans two stories within this wing of the palace, but is fully self-contained.’ Alek detailed the features. ‘You have a lounge, study, small kitchen, bedroom plus a spare, inward-facing balconies for privacy and of course bathroom facilities. You can redecorate it however you wish.’

She couldn’t actually get past this initial reception room. ‘I have all this to myself?’

‘A year is a long time.’ Alek circled his hand in the air as he stepped forward. ‘I want you to be happy. I want you to feel like it’s your home. You can have privacy and space.’ He faced her. ‘You can build your own library of thrillers in here if you wish.’

Hester stared at the massive room. No one had ever offered her anything like this in her life. When she’d moved to her aunt’s house, she’d not been offered the same kind of welcome. And she’d tried so hard to fit in. But it had been awkward and they’d made her feel as if it was such a sacrifice to have her take up some of their precious space. She’d felt uncomfortable, unable to change anything for fear of offending them. She’d accumulated nothing much of her very own and that was good, given what had happened. And that minimalist habit had extended to her time at the campus. The rooms were so small, and she’d not cluttered them with anything other than books. So now, confronted with this kind of generosity, emotion choked, not just her throat, but her thinking. It was too much. Everything he’d already done was too much. He’d submerged her in an abundance that she couldn’t handle. She gripped her little backpack as her limbs trembled. Frozen and tongue-tied, she couldn’t trust herself to move.

‘They’ve brought your suitcase in already,’ he said.

She saw it next to one of the enormous comfortable-looking armchairs. She had such little stuff for such an opulent space it was ridiculous.

His eyebrows pulled together and he hesitated a moment before stepping towards the window. ‘There’s good views across to the ocean and the balcony in your bedroom is completely private. No one will be able to see you.’ He paused again and she felt him gazing at her. ‘Do you not like it?’

‘No.’ She could hardy speak for the emotion completely clogging her up. She stared hard at the floor, knowing that if she blinked some of that hot, burning liquid was going to leak from her eyes and she really didn’t want that to happen. Then she realised she’d said the wrong thing. ‘Not no. I meant... I just...it’s fine.’

‘Fine,’ he echoed, but his voice sounded odd. ‘So why do you look like...?’ He trailed off and stepped closer than before and there was nothing for her to hide behind. ‘You look like you’re about to cry.’

She felt that wall of awkwardness rise and slick mortification spread at the realisation he could read her all too easily. Why could she suddenly not hide her feelings? And worse, why couldn’t she hold them back?

‘I don’t cry.’ It wasn’t a lie—until now.

‘Not ever—?’

‘Do you?’ she interrupted him, forcing herself to swallow back the tears and throw him off guard the way he was her.

He gazed at her intently and it was even worse. ‘Hester—’

‘I’m fine.’ She dragged in a breath, but couldn’t pull it together enough to keep it all back. ‘It’s just that I’ve never had such a big place all to myself.’

The confession slithered out, something she’d never trusted anyone enough to tell before. She didn’t want him to think she didn’t appreciate the effort he’d gone to. She knew he had insane wealth and property, but he’d thought this through for her. He’d taken time to consider what she might like. No one had done that for her. Not since she’d lost her parents. So she deeply appreciated this gesture, but she really needed to hold herself together because she couldn’t bear to unravel completely before him.

She sensed him remain near her for a strained moment but then he strolled back towards the window.

‘Personally I think the wallpaper in here is a bit much.’ He casually nodded at the ferociously ornate green and black pattern.

Startled, she glanced across at him.

‘You have to agree,’ he added drolly. ‘The word would be gaudy.’

She couldn’t contain the giggle that bubbled up, a fountain of pure silliness. As her face creased, that tear teetered over the edge and she quickly wiped its trail from her cheek.

‘I’m right, aren’t I?’ If he’d noticed her action, he didn’t comment. Instead he wriggled his finger at the seam where wallpaper met window frame until he tugged enough loose to tear it.

‘Alek!’

‘Oh, the press are going to love it if you say my name with that hint of censure,’ he teased in an altogether different tone.

A shock wave of heat blasted through her. Its impact was explosive, ripping through her walls to release the raw awareness. She’d been determined to ignore it. She knew he was an outrageous flirt, but it wasn’t his tone or his teasing jokes that caused this reaction within her. It was everything about him. He made her wonder about the kind of

intimacy she’d never known. The kind she’d actively avoided. And she’d never wanted to step closer to a person before.

‘Don’t be afraid to ask for what you want, Hester,’ he said softly.

She stared at him blankly, her mind going in all kinds of searing directions.