superiority that cloaked him—quite the opposite. Nor was she susceptible enough to have her heart almost stop beating at the very thought of him wearing the dress uniform that denoted his position as the Commander of the country’s small military force, never mind actually seeing him doing so!
Her days of feeling her insides melt with a hot rush of desire brought on by the thought of seeing Luc dressed in a pair of shiny top boots, tight-fitting trousers, white trousers and a military-style jacket of rich blue with yards of heavy gold braid were long since over!
She could still remember, though, how Luc had teased her by offering to prove to her that the impressive jacket was worn next to bare skin.
However, there was nothing remotely teasing in his voice now as he told her sharply, ‘Our betrothal is to be announced at noon today, in the castle square, along with the date of our wedding…Oh, and my cousin Jay has invited us to join him on his yacht this evening, for an informal celebration of our betrothal. The press will be informed that, in view of the rekindling of our passion for one another, we could not bear the thought of a lengthy engagement.’
‘So you still intend to go ahead with this farce?’ Carrie challenged him fiercely. ‘I should have thought that a night of sensible reflection would have shown you—’ she went on loftily, only to be stopped as Luc advanced towards the bed.
‘You haven’t changed, have you, Catherine? You still like playing dangerous games. When you were a teenager it was obvious what you hoped to achieve, but I do not understand just what it is you expect to gain by baiting me now. Unless, of course…’
As he waited Carrie felt her face begin to burn. It was true that when she was younger she had innocently attempted to provoke a masculine reaction of desire from him, but for him to throw that at her now—!
‘You are despicable, Luc,’ she threw at him, enraged. ‘Totally and utterly despicable!’
Although he shrugged her comment aside, Carrie could see the glint in his eyes.
‘You have, I trust, something suitable to wear? A formal business suit, perhaps, in view of your career? You know, Carrie, I must say how surprised I was to learn what an excellent degree you obtained, in view of the lifestyle you led at university. You obviously have your father’s flair for economics, although I suspect from the tone of your articles that you are more in sympathy with the views of certain young hotheads amongst my own people than those of the establishment. But then you always were an intensely passionate creature.’
‘No, Luc,’ Carrie corrected him bitterly. ‘What I was was a foolishly vulnerable young girl. But fortunately I had the good sense to realise how empty and…and valueless the relationship we had was.’
Carrie watched as his mouth thinned. It surprised her that he actually knew so much about her, but presumably her father had informed him of what she was doing.
‘Be careful,’ he warned her silkily, ‘otherwise I might be tempted to show you that there could be certain aspects of a relationship between us that you—’
‘No way! Never!’ Carrie denied vehemently. ‘I might once have been foolish enough to…but I was very quickly cured of that error of judgement, Luc.’
‘In the arms and the beds of the other men you gave yourself to so eagerly when you left here for university?’
‘How dare you presume to speak so sanctimoniously about my sexual history? Every summer the glossy magazines carry a new story about your latest piece of ‘‘arm candy’’, Luc—models, actresses, pop singers…’
‘The people you are talking about are new tax exile residents to this country. It’s not my fault if the popular press chooses to deliberately misconstrue matters, and besides, it is not—’
‘My business?’ Carrie finished for him. ‘No, it isn’t, and neither is my sexual past any business of yours!’
Not for anything would she have him know of her stubborn insistence on reading each word published in those magazines, describing the beauty of his female companion and his attentiveness towards her. But it had only been to reinforce to herself how much better off she was without him!
And as for his comments about her clothes! Well, yes, she did have a plain, businesslike designer suit in her case!
‘Your sexual past might not be my business, but so far as your sexual present and future is concerned, Carrie, I warn you now—’
‘You warn me! You might think you can act however you want in this…this soap operetta of a country of yours, Luc,’ Carrie began furiously, pushing herself up in the bed in a sudden flurry of angry activity, ‘but there is no way—’
Halfway through gesturing vigorously to underline her point, Carrie suddenly realised that the bedclothes were sliding off her body.
Automatically she made a quick, protective dive for them. But Luc beat her to it, his lean fingers tanned, nails immaculate but wholly masculine, curling round the edge of the covers and wresting them away from her, holding them flat to the bed.
His grey gaze on hers pinned her into immobility.
Carrie could feel the colour come and go in her face as it burned with furious emotions.
‘So, the girl I remember slept in a nightshirt printed with puppy dogs and bows. Only a very sensual and sexually confident woman sleeps naked in a strange bed, Carrie.’
‘Or one who just happens to have forgotten to pack her nightdress,’ Carrie returned acidly.
She could feel the warmth of the sunshine on her bare breasts.
‘You don’t sunbathe topless.’
Now Carrie could feel her face really burning. How had he managed to notice that, when so far as she was aware he hadn’t even glanced at her breasts? He had kept his gaze fixed on hers, as though her body was of so little interest to him than it didn’t even merit a brief look!
‘My last holiday was in America. They don’t favour topless sunbathing at the resort where I stayed.’
‘So your partner was able to enjoy the knowledge that only he was able to fully view your body?’
‘My ‘‘partner’’, as it happened, was a woman-friend,’ Carrie told him pithily, her eyes flashing storm signals at him. ‘Not that it would have been any of your business if it had not been.’
So why had she felt such a furious need to leap to the defence of her virtue? Carrie wondered grimly. It didn’t matter what Luc thought of her any more, did it? And besides, as she had just reminded him, he hardly lived like a monk, did he? At least not if the popular press were to be believed!
Angrily she tugged hard on the bedclothes, trying to drag them upwards to cover her naked breasts. When Luc refused to allow her to do so Carrie took refuge in the only protection left to her: the acid sharpness of her contempt.
‘I suppose there’s something of the voyeur in all men, a sort of base instinct, but I must say that I’m surprised to see it surfacing in you, Luc. After all, you’ve always made it quite your thing to elevate yourself to a higher and more rarefied plane than everyone else, haven’t you? Your Serene Highness!’
Luc cast her a narrow-eyed look, and she was satisfied to discover that her words had made an impact as she read the flicker of grim male fury in his eyes. But retaliation was swift and merciless as he dropped his gaze to her breasts and studied them with an insolent thoroughness that made her face burn. ‘You obviously wanted to flaunt yourself in front of me. I didn’t want to—’
Carrie stopped him angrily. ‘Flaunt myself? You’ve got to be joking.’
He frowned, suddenly and unexpectedly releasing the bedcovers to slide back his jacket cuff and glance at the elegant gold watch he was wearing.
‘You have two hours in which to have breakfast and get yourself ready. I have some telephone calls to make.’
Carrie