Crowned: An Ordinary Girl. NATASHA OAKLEY

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СКАЧАТЬ to the Oakland Suite swung open and they were ushered, past the bodyguards, into what was rather like a mini-apartment. And it seemed that it had its own hotel staff member to take care of it because they were passed into the care of another uniformed man, who took her wrap.

      Marianne felt disorientated and more cowed with every second that passed. Her chest felt tight and her breath seemed as though it were catching on cobwebs.

      ‘This way. His Serene Highness is expecting you.’

      Double doors opened onto a tastefully furnished sitting room. Three sets of glass doors lined one wall, each framed by heavy curtains complete with swags and tails, while to the far end there was a baby grand piano.

      ‘Isn’t this incredible?’ the professor said as soon as they were alone. He walked over to the glass doors, which had been flung open to make the most of the warm weather, and peered out. ‘There’s even some kind of terrace out here. Just incredible. Come and have a look.’

      But Marianne couldn’t move. She knew with absolute certainty that if she tried to walk anywhere her knees would buckle under her. Never, in her entire life, had she felt so…scared. But not just scared. She was also confused, angry and hurting.

      There was the muffled sound of voices and the soft click that indicated a door had shut.

      Seb? Her eyes stayed riveted on the connecting doorway.

      Any moment…

      Drawing on reserves she didn’t know she had, Marianne consciously relaxed her shoulders and lifted her chin. Seb mustn’t see how completely overwrought she was by this whole experience.

      The door opened and it crossed her mind to wonder whether she was about to faint for the first time in her life.

      ‘Professor Blackwell,’ Seb said, walking forward, hand outstretched. ‘I’m delighted you could join me this evening.’

      She’d never seen Seb in a dinner jacket. At least, not outside of a photograph. It was an inconsequential thought—and one she ought to be ashamed of—but nothing she’d seen in the various magazines had prepared her for the effect it was having on her.

      Pure sex appeal.

      Several years’ experience of various university dinners had left her wondering why men bothered, particularly if they went for ruffles and an over-tight cummerbund. But Seb just looked sexy.

      Seeing him this morning had been dreadful, but this felt so much worse. This time shock wasn’t protecting her from anything. She felt…raw.

      Vulnerable.

      And after everything she’d experienced she should have been completely immune to a playboy prince who’d simply decided, long ago, he didn’t want her any more.

      Her eyes took in every detail…because she couldn’t help it. The small indentation in the centre of his chin and the faint scar above his eyebrow she knew he’d got when he was seventeen and fallen off a scooter.

      And he seemed so much broader. More powerful than she remembered. Beneath his beautifully cut black jacket was a body entirely more muscled than the one she’d known so intimately. But—if she traced a finger down his left side until she reached a point two centimetres above his hip bone she would find the small oval-shaped birthmark she’d kissed….

      Marianne felt a tight pain in her chest and realised she needed to let go of the air she was holding in her lungs.

      This was a mistake. She wasn’t strong enough to do this. She saw the professor’s slight nod of the head and heard the murmured, ‘Your Serene Highness, may I introduce my colleague—’

      Any moment Seb would look at her. Please, God. Marianne clutched her handbag close to her body and prayed the ground would open up and swallow her whole.

      ‘—Dr Marianne Chambers?’

      Then his dark brown eyes met hers. He had beautiful, sexy eyes. Brown with flecks of deepest orange fanning out from dark black pupils.

      ‘Your Serene Highness.’ She heard her voice. Just. It was more of a croak.

      But she didn’t curtsey. Not so much a conscious act of defiance as the consequence of complete paralysis. She needed to tap into some of the hate she felt for him. Remember what he’d done to her. How much he’d hurt her.

      ‘Dr Chambers.’ He extended his hand and Marianne recovered enough composure to stretch out her own. ‘I understand from Professor Blackwell that you’re particularly knowledgeable about the Third Crusade.’

      ‘Y-yes.’ She felt his fingers close round her hand. Warm. Confident. A man in charge. ‘Yes, I am.’

      ‘Thank you for giving up your evening at such short notice.’

      Seb released her hand and turned back to the professor.

      Strangers. They were meeting like strangers. Everything inside of her rebelled at that. They weren’t strangers. She wanted to scream that at him. Shout loudly. Make herself heard.

      ‘May I introduce Dr Max Liebnitz,’ Seb said smoothly, ‘the curator of the Princess Elizabeth Museum?’

      Marianne had barely noticed the unassuming man standing quietly behind. He moved now and shook the professor’s hand. ‘Delighted to meet you,’ he said in heavily accented English. ‘And you, Dr Chambers. I believe I may have read something of yours on the battle of Hattin?’

      ‘That’s possible,’ Marianne murmured, conscious that Seb was standing no more than two metres away from her and could hear everything she said and everything said to her.

      It was such a surreal experience. And the temptation to look at him again was immense, but she resolutely kept her focus on the professor, who’d fallen into an easy German. Her own grasp of the spoken language was less well-developed, but she knew enough to contribute to their discussion and more than enough to know Professor Blackwell had discovered a kindred spirit in Dr Leibnitz.

      Seb’s well-informed observations astounded her. Once, when he referred to the siege of Acre, she was surprised into looking up at him.

      He’d changed. The Seb she’d known couldn’t have made a comment like that. He’d been…reckless. Irresponsible. Ready for adventure. Simply younger, she supposed with a wry smile.

      She tended to forget how very young she’d been herself—and how foolishly idealistic. She’d honestly believed she’d discovered her soul mate, the man she’d spend the rest of her life with, grow old with, have children with.

      How foolish was that at eighteen? Marianne lifted her chin and straightened her spine. She’d paid a heavy price for her naivety, whereas Seb had recognised their relationship for what it was and survived it unscathed.

      That hurt. To know that she was the only one nursing any kind of regret.

      ‘Marianne’s recent research has been particularly focused on the role of women.’ The professor turned to smile at her. ‘Obviously the vast bulk of primary sources available to us have been written by men—’

      ‘And for men,’ Marianne interjected, bringing her mind back СКАЧАТЬ