Instantly he rejected the idea. It was simple desire he experienced.
‘Luisa. I hope you slept well.’
He walked forward as she reached the bottom step. She stumbled and his hand shot out to steady her, but she jerked her arm away, hurrying past him, heels clicking on inlaid marble.
Raul drew a sharp breath. After a lifetime fending off eager women he discovered he didn’t like this alternative.
He recalled how she’d clung so needily last night and assured himself her response was contrived. Women were devious. Was it any wonder he kept relationships simple?
What sort of relationship would he have with his wife?
‘Yes, thank you. I slept well enough.’
Liar! Despite the make-up accentuating the smoky blue of her eyes, Raul saw signs of fatigue.
‘And you?’ To his surprise challenge sizzled in her gaze, as if she knew he’d spent most of the night wakeful, reliving those few moments when she’d melted into him like a born seductress.
Even now he wasn’t sure about her. There’d been more than a hint of the innocent about her last night.
But then feigned innocence could be such an effective weapon. As he knew to his cost. A spike of chill air stabbed the back of his neck.
‘I always sleep well in Paris.’ He offered his arm again, this time holding her gaze till she complied.
He covered her hand with his, securing it possessively. The sooner she grew accustomed to him the better. ‘And now, if you’re ready, our plane is waiting.’
He felt the shiver race through her. Saw her eyes widen in what looked like anxiety.
There was nothing to fear. Most women would sell their soul to be in her place, offered wealth, prestige and marriage to a man the press insisted on labelling one of the world’s most eligible bachelors. But already he began to see Luisa wasn’t most women.
He heard himself saying, ‘I’ll look after you, Luisa. There’s no need to be anxious.’
It was on the way to the airport that Raul discovered the cost of his unguarded actions last night. The discreet buzz of his mobile phone and a short conversation with Lukas, already waiting for them at the airport, had him excusing himself and opening his laptop.
Not that Luisa noticed. She was busy pressing her nose to the glass as they drove through Paris.
He focused on his computer, scrolling through page after page of newspaper reports. The sort of reports he habitually ignored: ‘PRINCE’S SECRET LOVER.’ ‘RAUL’S PARISIAN INTERLUDE.’ ‘SIZZLING SEDUCTION ON THE SEINE.’
There wasn’t much to the articles apart from speculation as to his new lover’s identity. Yet acid curdled his stomach and clammy heat rose as he flicked from one photo of last night’s kiss to another.
He frowned, perplexed by his reaction.
It wasn’t the first time the paparazzi had snapped photos of him with a woman. He was a favourite subject. Typically the press was more interested in his mistresses than his modernisation plans or regional disarmament talks. Usually he shrugged off their reports.
But this time …
Understanding dawned on a wave of nausea.
This time the photographer had unwittingly caught him in a moment of rare vulnerability. The press couldn’t know, but Raul had been careening out of control, swept away by dangerously unfamiliar forces. Prey to a compulsion he hadn’t experienced in years.
Eight years in fact.
Since the feeding frenzy of press speculation about a royal love triangle. The memory sickened him.
Since he’d learned to distrust female protestations of love and displays of innocence. Since he’d rebuilt his shattered world with determination, pride and a complete absence of emotion that made a man vulnerable.
His gut cramped as he remembered facing the press, made rabid by the scent of blood—his blood. The effort of appearing unmoved in the face of the ultimate betrayal. Of how he’d had to claw back his self-respect after making the worst mistake of his life. How day after day he’d had to appear strong. Till finally the fa?ade had become reality and he’d learned to live without emotional ties. Except for his love of Maritz.
He shut the laptop with a snap.
The cases weren’t the same. Then he’d been na?ve enough to believe in romance. He’d hurt with the intensity of youthful emotions. Now, at thirty, Raul was in control of his world. What he’d felt last night had been lust, more intense than usual perhaps, but simple enough.
Besides, public interest in Luisa could be used to advantage. It wouldn’t hurt to hint that there was more to his approaching nuptials than fulfilment of a legal contract. People liked to believe in fairy tales and it would ease the way for her.
A lost princess, a romantic interlude in Paris, an early wedding. It was the sort of PR that would focus interest on the monarchy and dampen the enthusiasm for political rabble-rousing in the lead up to his coronation.
He’d planned a quiet arrival in Maritz to give Luisa time to acclimatise. Yet in the circumstances revealing her identity had definite benefits.
He’d arrange it with Lukas at the airport.
‘You can unfasten your seat belt, ma’am.’ The hostess smiled at Luisa on her way to open the plane door.
Foreboding lurched in the pit of Luisa’s stomach.
The idea of stepping out of the aircraft and into the country that had once been her mother’s, and her detested grandfather’s, terrified her. Some atavistic foreknowledge warned that this next step would be irrevocable.
Again she experienced that sense of the world telescoping in around her, shrinking to a dark tunnel where her future lay immutable before her.
Desperately she sought for something positive to hang onto. The determination to get legal advice on that marriage contract as soon as she could. To find an escape clause that would allow Raul to inherit the throne he coveted without marrying her.
‘Here.’ A deep voice cut through her swirling thoughts. ‘Let me.’ Warm hands, large and capable, unclipped the seat belt and brushed it off her lap.
Sensation jittered through her stomach and across her thighs. Luisa looked up sharply to find Raul bending over her, his eyes warm with an expression she couldn’t fathom.
Her heart rose in her throat, pounding fast. The memory of last night’s madness filled her. The feel of his tight embrace and her need for more. Despite today’s polite formality, nothing could obliterate the recollection. Even the knowledge it had been a lie. He’d felt nothing.
He stepped back and she sucked in an uneven breath.
‘It’s time to go.’ He extended an arm.
Luisa nodded, her tongue glued to the roof of her mouth. What was happening to her? She had no desire to fall into Raul’s arms again, yet she imagined warmth in his gaze. When all he cared about was her usefulness to him.
Silently she let him drape a cashmere coat over her shoulders, then stepped to the door. The sooner she reached their destination, the sooner she could sort out this mess.
A roar filled her ears and she stopped abruptly at the head of the stairs. She blinked into the bright light, wishing she’d brought sunglasses.
‘It’s all right,’ Raul said. ‘They’re just glad to see us.’
He slid an arm slid round her, drawing her to him. Instinctively she pulled away but his hold was unbreakable.
‘Relax,’ he murmured. ‘I’m just making sure you don’t trip on those high heels. Come on.’
At his urging they descended, Luisa clinging to the railing and inordinately grateful for his support. Sheer bravado had led her to wear the highest heels in her new wardrobe, determined to look as sophisticated as possible. The move had backfired when she’d come face to face with Raul and discovered the extra height merely brought her closer to his knowing gaze.