Michelle Celmer

Royal Seductions: Diamonds


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      Of course she did, maybe even more, but that wasn’t the point. She dropped her arms from around his neck and flattened her palms on his chest. “As you get to know me, you’ll find I have this annoying habit of doing things by the book. And we’re not married yet.”

      “No one will know.”

      “I’ll know.”

      He sighed, a long, tired sound tinged with frustration. Then lifted her up, as though she weighed nothing, and deposited her back on the couch.

      Since she didn’t trust herself and she clearly couldn’t rely on him to apply the brakes, from now on there would be no more temptation. That meant no kissing or touching of any kind until after the wedding. “We’ve waited this long. Two more weeks aren’t going to kill us.”

      He pulled himself to his feet. “Speak for yourself.”

      She diverted her gaze, finding that it both embarrassed her and gave her a depraved thrill to know that touching her had aroused him. “Are you angry with me?”

      The hard lines of his face softened. “Of course not. If more people honored their values the way you do, the world would be a much better place.”

      Of all the things he could have possibly said to her, that had to have been the sweetest. And he said it so honestly, as though he really meant it. Maybe he wasn’t so tough as he liked people to think.

      “I should go,” he said. “You’ve had a long day.”

      “I am exhausted,” she admitted. With the time change and the long trip, she had been up for more than twenty-four hours straight.

      “There’s a directory by the phone if you should need anything.” He grabbed his jacket from the chair and walked to the door.

      She followed, several steps behind. “Thank you.”

      He stopped, hand on the doorknob, and turned to her. “For what?”

      She shrugged, suddenly feeling embarrassed. She was twenty-four years old and still so terribly naive about certain things. But anxious to learn. “I don’t know. Everything, I guess.”

      “You’re welcome.” He pulled the door open, then hesitated. “By the way, where do you keep your lipstick?”

      “Lipstick?”

      “You carried no handbag, yet you’ve freshened your lipstick numerous times throughout the course of the day. I was just wondering where you were hiding it.”

      It was funny that he had even noticed. Although, she had the sneaking suspicion there wasn’t much that the king missed.

      She smiled. “A proper lady, Your Highness, never tells.”

      “I had a feeling you would say that.” With a shake of his head, he stepped into the hall, then turned back one last time. “I should warn you, my lady, that I am used to getting what I want when I want it. Though we may not officially consummate this relationship until after the wedding.” His mouth curled into a hungry, feral smile. “I can’t promise that in the meantime there won’t be a bit of fooling around.”

      At first she thought he was only teasing her again, but she could see, by the look in his eyes, that he was dead serious.

      She opened her mouth to respond, but nothing came out. What could she possibly say? It occurred to her, not for the first time that day, that she was way out of her league.

      He flashed her the smile of a man who knew he had just hit his mark. “Good night, Hannah. Sleep well.”

      The door snapped shut quietly behind him, and she didn’t doubt for an instant that he would make good on his threat.

      And damned if she barely slept a wink all night.

      Four

      Hannah was awake, showered and dressed when Miss Pryce knocked on the door to her suite the next morning at 9:00 a.m. on the dot. Beating down a monster case of jet lag, Hannah opened the door and invited her in.

      “Good morning, my lady.” She curtsied, quite an impressive feat considering her arms were stacked with file folders and binders. “I have the information you requested.”

      “My gosh, someone must have been up all night compiling this.” She shuddered to think of all the reading she had ahead of her. She would have to call down for a second pot of coffee. But with any luck, the mystery woman from yesterday would be among the pages and Hannah might learn her identity. And maybe have some clue as to why she’d watched Hannah so intently.

      “Would you like it in your office?” Miss Pryce asked.

      She hated being cooped up in an office. “Why don’t you set it down on the table by the sofa.”

      She did as requested then stood stiffly, clutching the leather binder she’d had with her last night. The dreaded schedule.

      “Would you care for a cup of coffee, Miss Pryce?”

      “No, thank you.”

      “I could call down for tea.”

      She didn’t even crack a smile. “I’m fine, thank you.”

      How about a valium, or shot of whiskey? Hannah thought. She wondered if everyone around here was always this formal. If so, it was going to take some serious getting used to. For them, that is. Hannah’s staff at home had always been more like an extension of the family than actual employees.

      Being royalty didn’t mean she had to be a cold fish.

      “Do you have a first name, Miss Pryce?”

      She looked confused. “Of course.”

      “What is it?”

      She hesitated for an instant, as though she wasn’t quite sure why Hannah would even ask. “Elizabeth.”

      “May I address you by your first name?”

      Miss Pryce looked utterly confused.

      Hannah sighed. Something this simple shouldn’t be so difficult. “Miss Pryce, I’m not sure how things are done here in the palace, but as my personal secretary, I can only assume we’ll be spending quite some time together.”

      Miss Pryce nodded.

      “In that case, it would be nice if I could address you by your first name.”

      “Of course, my lady. I would be honored.”

      This my lady stuff was going to get old fast. “And I don’t suppose there would be any chance you could call me Hannah?”

      Miss Pryce lowered her eyes and shook her head. “That wouldn’t be proper. I would lose my job.”

      She would push the issue, but Hannah could see that she was making her uncomfortable. After she and Phillip were married, at least her title would change to a less pretentious, Ma’am.

      “Before we get started, I was hoping to have a word with my fiancé.” Since he left her suite last night, she had been anticipating seeing him again. She had a million questions to ask him. Things about him she was dying to know.

      “He’s not here.”

      “Oh. Do you know when he’ll be back?”

      “Friday, I think.”

      “Friday?” Five days?

      “If the weather holds,” she added.

      “Weather?”

      “He and his cousin, Sir Charles, don’t care to hunt in the rain.”

      Hunt? He went hunting?

      She willed herself to remain calm, to ignore the deep spear of disappointment that lodged in her heart. She’d been here less than twenty-four hours and