A Night in the Prince's Bed. Chantelle Shaw

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СКАЧАТЬ edges of her jacket parted to reveal her partially open shirt. ‘That punk had no right to lay a finger on you. Did he hurt you?’ Aksel felt a resurgence of the scalding anger that had gripped him when he had seen the skinhead gang leader seize hold of Mina. A lifetime of practice had made him adept at controlling his emotions, but when he had seen her scared face as the gang of youths crowded round her he had been filled with a murderous rage.

      ‘No, I’m fine. Oh...’ Mina coloured hotly as she glanced down and saw that her shirt was half open, exposing her lacy bra and the upper slopes of her breasts. She fumbled to refasten the buttons with trembling fingers. Nausea swept over her as her vivid imagination pictured what the gang of youths might have done to her if Aksel had not shown up.

      ‘Thank you for coming to my rescue—again,’ she said shakily, remembering how he had helped her order drinks at the bar earlier. The memory of how she had thrown herself into his arms when he had appeared in the alley brought another stain of colour to her cheeks. ‘By the way, I’m sorry I behaved like an idiot and hugged you.’

      His lips twitched. ‘No problem. Feel free to hug me any time you like.’

      ‘Oh,’ Mina said again on a whispery breath that did not sound like her normal voice. But nothing about this evening was normal, and it was not surprising she felt breathless when Aksel was looking at her in a way that made her think he was remembering those few moments when he had caught her in his arms and held her so close to him that her breasts had been squashed against his chest.

      Keen to move on from that embarrassing moment, she quickly changed the subject. ‘What are you doing here?’

      Aksel had been asking himself the same question since he had left the Globe Theatre after the performance. His car had been waiting for him, but as his chauffeur had opened the door he’d felt a surge of rebellion against the constrictions of his life. He knew that back at his hotel his council members who had accompanied him from Storvhal would be waiting to discuss the new trade deal. But Aksel’s mind had been full of the Shakespearean tragedy that had stirred his soul, and the prospect of spending the rest of the evening discussing politics had seemed unendurable.

      No doubt Harald Petersen, his elderly chief advisor and close friend of his grandmother, would be critical of the fact that he had dismissed his driver and bodyguard.

      ‘I am sure I don’t need to remind you that Storvhal’s wealth and political importance in the world are growing, and there is an increased risk to your personal safety, sir,’ Harald had said when Aksel had argued against the necessity of being accompanied by a bodyguard while he was in London.

      ‘I think it’s unlikely that I’d be recognised anywhere other than in my own country,’ Aksel had pointed out. ‘I’ve always kept a low media profile at home and abroad.’ Unlike his father, whose dubious business dealings and playboy lifestyle had often made headlines around the world.

      After he had sent his driver away, Aksel had strolled beside the river when he had spotted Mina entering a pub, and without stopping to question what he was doing he had followed her inside. His immediate thought when he had met her at the bar was that, close up, she was even more beautiful than he’d thought when he had seen her on stage. He’d looked into her deep green eyes and felt as if he were drowning.

      ‘When you left the pub, I assumed I would never see you again.’ Her soft voice pulled Aksel back to the alleyway.

      ‘I was about to get into a taxi when I saw you come out of the pub. I watched you turn down this alleyway and decided to follow you. A badly lit alley doesn’t seem a good place to walk on your own at night.’

      Mina gave him a rueful glance. ‘I’m on my way home and this is the quickest way to the station.’

      ‘Why didn’t you stay with your friends?’ Aksel hesitated. ‘You looked over at a man who walked into the pub and I thought he must be someone you knew.’

      Aksel must be referring to Steve Garratt. Supressing a shudder, Mina shook her head. ‘He was no one—just...a guy.’ She swallowed, thinking that the only reason she had left the pub and started to walk to the station alone at night was because she’d wanted to get away from the journalist she despised.

      She had a flashback to the terrifying moment when the gang of youths had surrounded her, and the colour drained from her face.

      ‘Are you all right?’ Aksel looked at her intently. ‘You’re in shock. Do you feel faint?’

      Mina was not going to admit that she felt close to tears. ‘I probably feel wobbly because I’m hungry. I’m always too nervous to eat before a performance,’ she explained ruefully. ‘That’s why I was going home to get something to eat.’

      His sensual smile evoked a coiling sensation in the pit of Mina’s stomach.

      ‘I have an idea. Why don’t you have dinner with me? My hotel isn’t far from here, and it has an excellent restaurant. I’m sure you won’t feel like cooking a meal when you get home,’ he said persuasively.

      ‘I...I couldn’t impose on you any further.’ For a crazy moment she wanted to accept Aksel’s invitation. It would be madness, she told herself. He was a stranger she had met in a pub and she knew nothing about him other than that he came from a country most people had never heard of. She looked at him curiously. ‘Are you on holiday in England?’

      ‘A business trip—I’m flying home tomorrow.’

      She crushed her ridiculous feeling of disappointment. ‘What line of business are you in?’

      Was it her imagination, or did an awkward expression flit across his face before he replied? ‘I work as an advisor for my country’s government. My visit to London was with a delegation to discuss trade policies with Britain.’

      Mina could not hide her surprise. With his streaked blond hair and leather jacket he looked more like a rock star than a government advisor. ‘It sounds interesting,’ she murmured.

      His laughter echoed through the alleyway; a warm, mellow sound that melted Mina’s insides. ‘I would have expected an actress to be more convincing at pretending that my job sounds fascinating,’ he said softly. ‘Can I persuade you to have dinner with me if I promise I won’t bore you with details about trade policies?’

      As she met his glinting, bright blue gaze Mina thought it would be impossible for Aksel to bore her. Her common sense told her to walk back out to the main street and hail a taxi to take her home. She would be mad to go to dinner with a stranger, even if he was the sexiest man she had ever laid eyes on. She had followed her heart in LA but her experience with Dexter Price had left her wary and mistrustful, not just of other men but of her own judgement.

      ‘I’m not dressed for dinner at a restaurant.’ She made another attempt to ignore the voice of temptation that was telling her to throw caution to the wind and go with Aksel. Besides, it was the truth. Her cotton gypsy skirt and cheesecloth shirt were very boho chic, according to Kat, but not a suitable outfit to wear to dinner.

      ‘You look fine to me,’ Aksel assured her in his seductive, gravelly voice. ‘There’s just one thing. You’ve done your buttons up in the wrong order.’

      He moved closer, and Mina caught her breath as he lifted his hands and fastened her shirt buttons properly. He smelled of sandalwood cologne, mingled with a clean, fresh fragrance of soap and another barely discernible scent that was intensely male and caused Mina’s stomach muscles to tighten.

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