The King's Captive Virgin. Natalie Anderson

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СКАЧАТЬ What part did this...this vixen...have to play in it?

      ‘Her name is Kassiani Marron. She’s known as Kassie and she works at the hospital.’

      ‘My hospital?’ Giorgos tensed as his fury burned hotter. ‘So she brought him to the palace?’

      ‘Actually, Mr Gale held the invitation. She accompanied him.’

      Giorgos drew in a sharp breath. She was Damon Gale’s date—he’d asked her to attend with him yet set his sights on Eleni? Giorgos was stunned. This woman held such sexual allure...

      ‘Ms Marron is Mr Gale’s half-sister,’ the officer added. ‘She is the illegitimate daughter of John Gale, Damon’s father, an American diplomat.’

      So she was Damon’s half-sister—family. Of course. It made sense. She was the feminine feline equivalent of her predatory brother. Scalding hot satisfaction rushed through Giorgos’s system, flooding his rage and turning into another emotion altogether. An emotion he had no inclination—and no time—to define.

      He narrowed his gaze on her image and tried to process the revelation rationally. The vixen would have information. The vixen would have answers. The vixen would pay. Adrenalin charged his system like a lightning bolt of electricity, empowering his drive and focus.

      He whipped his head up to glare at the security chief. ‘Where is she now?’

      ‘At the hospital. Would you like me to bring her to you?’

      ‘No.’ Giorgos turned away from the screen with speed. ‘I will go to the hospital.’

      ‘Sir?’ The officer looked startled.

      Giorgos shook his head. As if he could trust any of his security team to deal with this situation, given they’d lost Eleni and not even told him for the better part of the day? No.

       No.

      This needed urgency, delicacy and above all control—the one thing Giorgos had in abundance. He needed to do the interrogation himself. And he’d extract every ounce of information he could from her. By whatever method was necessary.

      ‘Bring my car,’ he ordered. ‘Immediately.’

      * * *

      ‘You shouldn’t be working late on a Friday night.’ The junior doctor leaned over Kassie—too close—with a winning smile. ‘You should be coming to dinner with me.’

      Kassie took a breath, then answered with well-practised firm but dismissive politeness and eased back from his breach of her personal space. ‘I still have half an hour on my shift.’

      And she’d be on the ward for at least another hour afterwards. She had too much paperwork to catch up on. Never mind that it was Friday night.

      ‘I have a booking at a very nice restaurant.’

      ‘And of course you don’t want that booking going to waste.’ Kassie maintained her slight smile, despite the disappointment edging into her.

      The guy was probably nice enough, but already her temperature had dropped at the thought. And he was only suggesting dinner—totally tame—anything more intimate would have had her freezing in a nanosecond. Sadly, it was going to be another no from her.

      ‘Fortunately there are plenty of others about to end their shift,’ she said.

      ‘But I don’t want to go out with any of them. Only you.’

      And there was a line she’d heard before. ‘You don’t even know me,’ she pointed out gently.

      But he’d heard about her—she knew that.

      ‘You know Kassie doesn’t date anyone in the hospital,’ Zoe, one of the nurses, piped up with a smile, quickly shooting Kassie a glance of pure sisterhood solidarity. ‘Why don’t you ask Terese? She’s super-fun and a great dancer.’

      Super-fun and a great dancer. Two things Kassie wasn’t.

      The doctor looked at Kassie, but she avoided his gaze by studying the chart she was carrying, happy to let Zoe rescue her.

      He finally turned. ‘What about you?’ he asked Zoe. ‘What are your plans tonight?’

      Zoe shrugged and her smile turned coquettish. ‘You tell me.’

      He smiled back. ‘Half an hour at the main entrance. I’ll be waiting.’ He sent Kassie a smug glance and strode down the corridor.

      The nurse giggled before he was entirely out of earshot and turned to Kassie. ‘Are you sure you didn’t want to go out with him, Kassie?’ she asked. ‘He’s totally hot.’

      ‘Dr Hot is all yours.’ Kassie sighed deeply. ‘And thank you.’

      ‘Oh, no—thank you! I’m delighted to take him off your hands.’ Reassured, Zoe giggled again. ‘I just don’t understand why you don’t date any of them. If I were you I’d—’

      ‘Be getting back to my work—which is what I’m going to do,’ Kassie interrupted swiftly with a firm smile.

      But she appreciated Zoe’s assistance. It wasn’t worth the embarrassment of trying to date any more. She just didn’t feel things the way normal people did. But that was fine. She’d long since accepted it and chosen to focus on building her career.

      Zoe had turned away and Kassie became conscious of the nurse’s sudden silence. In fact the entire ward was abnormally silent. The gentle bubbling hum of soft conversation had ceased. A prickle rasped down her spine and she turned around to see what the issue was.

      ‘Good evening.’

      A man stood right in front of her. As she stared up into his face her lips parted but she remained wordless—silenced by the hard glow of his striking green eyes and the furiously cold glare he was directing her way. Dazedly she recognised that this tall, imposing figure wasn’t just anyone. She was used to the King’s sister, Princess Eleni, visiting the hospital, but not King Giorgos himself.

      How long had he been standing there? Had he heard all that conversation? To be caught out talking dating by anyone was mortifying—but by the King? Why was he here at all? Why hadn’t they been notified? Why hadn’t there been the usual security sweep before anyone royal arrived?

      A billion thoughts flooded her feeble brain, but the one that her mind locked on to was the most banal and the most unbelievable—so handsome. King Giorgos was so incredibly handsome.

      She’d lived here all her life but never seen the King up close before—and had certainly never imagined he’d be as good-looking in reality as he was in print. Impossibly, he was more so. As he towered over her she was conscious of his physicality—of the broad shoulders and muscled body that his perfectly tailored suit hinted at. It struck her that the immaculate stitching and fabric was nothing more than a fragile veneer, masking his raw masculinity. His dangerousness.

      And where had that idiot thought come from?

      She СКАЧАТЬ