A Night in the Prince's Bed. Chantelle Shaw

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СКАЧАТЬ style="font-size:15px;">      ‘I find nothing pleasant about meeting you,’ she said coldly. ‘And I doubt you’re surprised to see me. You’re here for a reason, and I can guess what it is.’

      The journalist grinned to reveal nicotine-stained teeth. It was warm inside the pub and his florid face was turning pinker. ‘A little bird told me you’ll soon be making your Broadway debut.’

      ‘Who told you that?’ Mina asked sharply. She glanced at his shifty expression and realised that he was hoping to goad her into giving him information.

      ‘Come on, sweetheart. Everyone wants to know if your father will be directing Romeo and Juliet in New York. He must have told you whether it’s going to happen. All the hacks are hoping to break the story. Give me an exclusive and I’ll make sure you get good reviews if you do open on Broadway.’

      ‘Joshua hasn’t told me anything, but even if he had confided in me I wouldn’t tell you. You’re a weasel, Garratt. You nose around in people’s private lives looking for scandal and if none exist you make up lies—like you did to me.’ Mina broke off, breathing hard as she struggled to control her temper.

      The journalist gave a cynical laugh. ‘Am I supposed to feel sorry for you? Don’t give me that bull about journalists respecting celebrities’ private lives. Actors need publicity. You don’t really believe that a film starring an unknown English actress would have been a box-office success on its own merits, do you? People went to see Girl in the Mirror because they were curious about the bimbo who screwed Dexter Price.’

      Steve Garratt’s mocking words made Mina’s stomach churn. The pub felt claustrophobic and she was suddenly desperate for some fresh air. She pushed past the journalist, unable to bear being in his company for another second. ‘You disgust me,’ she told him bitterly.

      Kat was chatting with the other members of the cast and Mina did not interrupt them. They would guess she had gone home, she told herself as she made her way across the crowded pub towards the door. Outside, it was dark. The October nights were drawing in and Mina’s lightweight jacket did not offer much protection against the chilly wind. Head bowed, she walked briskly along the pavement that ran alongside the river. The reflection of the street lights made golden orbs on the black water, but soon she turned off the well-lit main road down a narrow alleyway that provided the quickest route to the tube station.

      Her footsteps echoed loudly in the enclosed space. It wasn’t late, but there was no one around, except for a gang of youths who were loitering at the other end of the alleyway. From the sound of their raucous voices Mina guessed they had been drinking. She thought about turning back and going the long route to the station, but she was tired and, having grown up in central London, she considered herself fairly streetwise. Keeping her head down, she continued walking, but as she drew nearer to the gang she noticed they were passing something between them and guessed it was a joint.

      Her warning instincts flared. Something about the youths’ body language told her that they were waiting for her to walk to the far end of the alley. She stopped abruptly and turned round, but as she hurriedly retraced her steps the gang followed her.

      ‘Hey, pretty woman, why don’t you want to walk this way?’ one of them called out.

      Another youth laughed. ‘There’s a film called Pretty Woman, about a slag who makes a living on the streets.’ The owner of the voice, a skinhead with a tattoo on his neck, caught up with Mina and stood in front of her so that she was forced to stop walking. ‘Is that what you do—sell your body? How much do you charge?’ As the gang crowded around Mina the skinhead laughed. ‘Do you do a discount for group sex?’

      Mina swallowed, trying not to show that she was scared. ‘Look, I don’t want any trouble.’ She took a step forwards and froze when the skinhead gripped her arm. ‘Let go of me,’ she demanded, sounding more confident than she felt.

      ‘What if I don’t want to let go of you?’ the skinhead taunted. ‘What are you going to do about it?’ He slid his hand inside Mina’s jacket and she felt a surge of fear and revulsion when he tugged her shirt buttons open. The situation was rapidly spiralling out of control. The youths were drunk, or high—probably both—and on a cold autumn night it was unlikely that anyone was around to help her.

      ‘You’d better let me go. I’m meeting someone, and if I don’t show up they’ll start looking for me,’ she improvised, thinking as she spoke that her friends at the pub would assume she had gone home.

      The skinhead must have sensed that she was bluffing. ‘So, where’s your friend?’

      ‘Here,’ said a soft, menacing voice.

      Mina’s gaze shot to the end of the alleyway that she had entered a few minutes earlier and her heart did a somersault in her chest. The light from the street lamp behind him made his blond hair look like a halo. Surely no angel could be so devastatingly sexy, but to Mina, scared out of her wits, he was her guardian angel, her saviour.

      The skinhead, surprised by the interruption, had loosed his grip on her arm, and Mina wrenched herself free.

      ‘Aksel,’ she said on a half-sob, and ran towards him.

       CHAPTER TWO

      ‘IT’S ALL RIGHT, Mina, you’re safe,’ Aksel murmured. He felt the tremors that shook her slender frame. When she had raced down the alleyway he had instinctively opened his arms and she had flown into them. He stroked her auburn hair, one part of his brain marvelling at how silky it felt. At the same time he eyed the gang of youths and felt a cold knot of rage in the pit of his stomach when the skinhead who had been terrorising Mina stepped forwards.

      ‘Can’t you count, mate? There’s six of us and only one of you,’ the gang leader said with a show of bravado.

      ‘True, but I am worth more than the six of you combined,’ Aksel drawled in an icy tone that cut through the air like tempered steel. He never lost his temper. A lifetime of controlling his emotions had taught him that anger was far more effective served ice-cold and deadly. ‘I’m willing to take you all on.’ He flicked his gaze over the gang members. ‘But one at a time is fair, man to man—if you’ve got the guts of real men.’

      He gently put Mina to one side and gave her a reassuring smile when her eyes widened in fear as she realised what he intended to do.

      ‘Aksel...you can’t fight them all,’ she whispered.

      He ignored her and strolled towards the skinhead youth. ‘If you’re the leader of this pack of sewer rats I guess you’ll want to go first.’

      The skinhead had to tilt his head to look Aksel in the face, and doubt flickered in his eyes when he realised that his adversary was not only tall but powerfully built. Realising that he was in serious danger of losing face, he spat out a string of crude profanities as he backed up the alleyway. The other youths followed him and Aksel watched them until they reached the far end of the alley and disappeared.

      ‘You have got to be nuts!’ Mina sagged against the wall. Reaction to the knowledge that Aksel had saved her from being mugged or worse was setting in and her legs felt wobbly. ‘They could have been carrying a weapon. You could have been hurt.’

      She stared at him and felt weak for another reason as she studied his chiselled features and dark blond hair that had fallen forwards onto his brow. He raked it СКАЧАТЬ