the way she had ended their affair, and her betrayal still rankled even after all this time.
When he had caught sight of her disappearing behind one of the pillars he had thought he must have conjured up her image, so great was the shock and effect on him of seeing her again. It had taken every bit of the thirty-two years of his royal training to keep his reaction hidden. He had formally opened the gala, chatted with the official guests, smiled in all the right places, but all the while wondering how he could capture five minutes in private with her.
But now that he had, he wondered if it had been wise to seek her out. Every pore of his skin was erect with awareness, his nostrils automatically flaring in the primal hunt for her feminine scent, and his groin tightening with an ache so intense he had trouble standing still.
It annoyed him to find his body still hummed with desire for her. He had considered himself over her, and yet one glimpse into that emerald gaze of hers had made him realise there was still a place deep inside him that responded almost involuntarily when he looked at her. It was as if she had secretly planted a tiny fish hook in his chest all those years ago, and every time their eyes met he felt its tiny but still-painful tug.
For all her supermodel beauty there was no escaping the fact she was a sleep-around socialite tart who had wantonly led him on only to dump him, no doubt for the glory of having bedded a prince. He had met plenty of women like her before and since, but he had not seen her rejection and betrayal coming and that irked him more than he wanted to admit. No one had done that to him before. He had never had his pride rubbed in the dust like that, but then that was Cassie for you. She had come along with those amazing green eyes, her long, silky, blonde hair and sensually seductive wiles, and snatched the breath right out of his chest.
His eyes ran over her appraisingly. She was wearing a shell-pink sheath of a dress that clung lovingly to her willowy frame, highlighting the small but perfect globes of her breasts, skimming over the slight, almost boyish hips and the endless legs that had so many times wrapped around his in the throes of their heated passion. Her slender arms were bare, but on her left wrist she wore a pearl bracelet which he had noticed her fiddling with earlier with those slim fingers of hers.
Sebastian had to remind himself Cassandra Kyriakis had killed her father with those very delicate feminine hands. The lesser charge of manslaughter didn’t make her any less of a murderess, or at least certainly not according to the press and public’s view. But right now she didn’t look capable of doing anyone harm. She looked nervous, agitated almost, her bottom lip being savaged by her small white teeth, and her body looked tense and ill at ease.
A little stab of guilt pierced him. His threat had perhaps been a little heavy-handed and ruthless, but he had to be absolutely sure she would keep quiet about their previous relationship. He would make it worth her while, although any dealings he had with her now would have to be conducted under the strictest secrecy. The press were like sniffer dogs when it came to the Karedes royal family and it would be risky even being seen talking to her, but it would be well and truly worth it if he could achieve what he wanted. He knew it just by looking at her. The old adage might have it that revenge was a dish best served cold, but the sort of revenge Sebastian had in mind was going to be hot—blazingly so, for he had a score to settle with her and he knew where it would be settled best.
In his bed.
A palace official approached, and Sebastian exchanged a few words with him, turning back barely thirty seconds later to find Cassie had completely disappeared. He narrowed his gaze and scanned the crowd, looking for a flash of baby-pink chiffon or platinum-blonde hair, but there was none.
‘Are you looking for someone in particular, Your Royal Highness?’ the junior official asked. ‘I can organise security to find them for you if you like.’
Sebastian schooled his features into impassivity. There was only one aide in the palace he could trust with this sort of minefield situation, and this unfortunately was not him. ‘No,’ he said curtly. ‘That will not be necessary.’
The young man gave an obsequious bow and moved away. It was only then that Sebastian saw the tiny bracelet lying on the floor where Cassie had been standing such a short time ago. He bent down and picked it up, his fingers absently stroking over the string of smooth orbs as he scanned the dispersing crowd once more.
As yet another official approached, Sebastian surreptitiously slipped the bracelet into his trouser pocket, inwardly smiling as he let the pearls slide through his fingers, one by one.
Cinderella might have escaped from the ball, but this particular Prince Charming was going to lure her back to him with something even more fitting than a glass slipper.
‘Cassie, what’s wrong?’ Angelica, Cassie’s flatmate, asked as soon as she came in. ‘You look totally flustered. Is everything all right?’
Cassie closed the door and leaning back against it, pinched the bridge of her nose with two fingers, her eyes squeezed tightly shut in a vain effort to ease the tension about to explode behind her temples. ‘No…no, I’m fine, just a headache.’ She opened her eyes and, pushing herself away from the door, moved farther into the flat.
‘Is Sam OK?’
‘Of course he is,’ Angelica assured her. ‘He was a bit unsettled at first, but I promised him you would be back as soon as you could, and he eventually went to sleep and hasn’t stirred since. I just checked him a few moments ago. He’s out for the count.’
‘That’s good,’ Cassie said, expelling a tiny breath of relief, although her stomach was still full of fist-like knots.
‘You worry too much, Cassie,’ Angelica admonished her gently. ‘Sam’s five years old now. He needs to learn to be away from you occasionally. You can’t keep him tied to you for ever, you know.’
‘I know. It’s just he’s never really got over being separated from me when I was in prison,’ Cassie said, trying not to think of that harrowing time when Sam’s desperate cries had echoed in her head for months after he was wrenched from her arms. She had been allowed to give birth to him inside the high walls of the Aristo prison and keep him with her until he turned three. Of all the suffering she had endured over the years that had been by far the very worst. Relinquishing Sam had felt like having one of her limbs torn off. She still had nightmares about it, waking up in a lather of sweat, in case someone had crept into the flat during the night and stolen her baby son away from her all over again.
‘You’re the one who hasn’t got over it,’ Angelica said astutely. ‘Put it in the past where it belongs. You’re on a roll now, Cassie. Your work at the orphanage is your ticket to a new life off the island once your parole is up. And, speaking of the orphanage, how did the fund-raising event go at the palace? Did you see Prince Sebastian? Is he as handsome as he looks in all the press photos?’
‘Um…yes, he is…’ Cassie felt her heart give a painful squeeze as she thought of that brooding, dark, all-seeing gaze. She had taken a huge risk leaving the gala so abruptly, but she couldn’t have coped with another torturous minute in Sebastian’s company. The air between them had been charged with sexual energy; she had felt it as soon as she looked into his face. She had felt the slow burn of his gaze through the fine layers of her dress, as if he was recalling every intimate inch of her and how he had pleasured her in the past. A shiver travelled the entire length of her spine at the thought of how she had come apart time and time again in his arms. Had he guessed she still felt the same way? Oh, please, God, don’t let him have guessed!
Her fingers automatically went to her left wrist, her heart giving a sudden lurch of panic when she found it totally bare. ‘Oh, no!’
‘What’s wrong?’ Angelica asked. ‘You’ve gone as white as a ghost.’
Cassie swung around and backtracked her way to the front door of the tiny flat with agitated steps. ‘I’ve lost my bracelet,’ she said, searching the floor in rising desperation. ‘My mother’s pearl one. It must have fallen off on the way home. I was sure it was still on my wrist when I was at the palace.’
‘Maybe it fell