Название: Crowned: An Ordinary Girl
Автор: NATASHA OAKLEY
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Современные любовные романы
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Could she honestly go to Andovaria with Peter?
Maybe this was fate’s way of giving her that much talked-of ‘closure’? Maybe spending time in Seb’s country was exactly what she needed? And all it required was courage?
Her fingers moved in concentric circles against the pain in her temple. She was aware of Dr Leibnitz speculating about what might be found beneath Poltenbrunn Castle and the professor’s comments about the Habsburg dynasty and Rudolf von der Hapichtsburg in particular.
‘Marianne, are you feeling all right?’ the professor asked, breaking off his conversation.
Her hand stilled and she forced a smile. ‘I’ve a slight headache. It’s nothing.’
‘Perhaps some air?’ Dr Liebnitz suggested. ‘Shall I sit with you on the terrace for a moment, Dr Chambers?’
‘N-no, thank you. I’m fine. It’ll pass in a moment.’
Seb stood up and the abrupt movement startled her. ‘I’ll keep Dr Chambers company on the terrace while you continue your conversation, Max. It’s a little stuffy in here and I’d appreciate some fresh air myself.’
Panic ripped through her. ‘N-no. I—’
‘The terrace is very pretty,’ Seb interrupted smoothly, ‘with a stunning view over Green Park. Whenever I’m in London I particularly ask for this suite for that reason.’
His arm gestured towards the open glass doors and Marianne knew she had very little choice but to acquiesce with as much dignity as she could manage. ‘Thank you.’
By the time she was on her feet Seb was already standing by the doors, waiting. She didn’t dare look up at him as she walked out onto the terrace. A light breeze tugged at the silk of her dress, but the evening was warm enough. Almost. She gave a slight shiver, although that might have had nothing to do with the temperature outside.
‘Are you cold?’ he asked quickly. ‘Do you have a wrap Warner could fetch for you?’
Marianne turned. ‘Warner?’
‘He’s the butler this evening.’
‘Ah.’ Warner was the butler. She’d forgotten—the staff had names. Although Warner, it seemed, didn’t warrant the use of his Christian name. So much for the equality of mankind. Marianne shook her head. ‘No. Thank you.’ It was nice to feel the breeze brushing against her skin. Nice to feel something other than the tight, constrained sensation in her chest.
She looked round the terrace. It was tiny, but beautifully formed—and the view was spectacular even at night. Seb was right about that. Marianne turned round and caught him watching her. His expression made her nervous and she looked away, stumbling into speech. ‘Th-this is all rather…incredible,’ she said, gesturing at the display of lights below them.
Seb moved closer. She could smell the light musky scent of his aftershave. Feel him breathing next to her.
‘The terrace?’ he asked quietly. ‘The view? Or us being together again?’
Marianne felt her throat constrict. Her eyes turned to look at him as though she was compelled to do so. ‘All of it,’ she said after a moment, her voice breathy.
Silence. Then Seb smiled and it still had the ability to seduce her. Why was that? Other men had smiled at her with just that look in their eyes, but they’d never made her feel so light-headed.
Marianne wrapped her arms around her waist in a movement she recognised as defensive, but she didn’t move away. There was a part of her that was very proud of that. ‘I didn’t curtsey.’
‘Pardon?’
‘When I arrived. I didn’t curtsey to you.’ For some reason it suddenly seemed so important he knew that.
A spark of laughter lit his dark eyes and he glinted down at her. ‘I think we’re a little past that. Certainly in private.’
‘I’m not doing it in public either,’ she shot back, irritated by the suspicion he was laughing at her. Marianne nervously fingered the back hook of one of her earrings. ‘Did you know I was coming with the professor tonight?’
‘Yes.’
She desperately wanted to ask what he’d thought about her coming. Did he find this situation as awkward as she did? But of course, that was impossible. He’d spoken to her as though they were strangers—and that was what they were. Strangers.
‘Peter couldn’t remember exactly what he’d told you. Whether I’d been a nameless colleague…’
‘No.’
No. Her eyes flicked up and away again. There was some comfort in hearing that he’d invited her to join them this evening knowing it was her. The hum of the traffic far below filled the awkward pause. ‘Oh.’ And then, ‘Were you surprised when he mentioned my name?’
‘Very.’
She could hear something like a smile in his voice and risked another look at him. It was a mistake. His eyes hadn’t changed. There might be fine lines fanning out at the edges now, but they were achingly familiar.
‘I knew there was a slight possibility I might see you at the conference, but that Professor Blackwell would refuse to come to Andovaria without you…’ His mouth twisted and he shook his head. ‘No, that part surprised me. You’ve done exceptionally well.’
She had, but she didn’t need him to tell her that. She felt as if she’d suffered the verbal equivalent of a regal pat on the head.
‘He made it very clear this morning his decision on whether he’d accept or not would be made in consultation with you. It’s impressive to have achieved that level of professional respect by the age of twenty-eight.’
Seb knew how old she was. He’d remembered the fifteen-month age difference between them. Marianne swallowed—and it felt a monumentally difficult thing to do. It was as though every normal function was now something that required conscious effort.
But then, Seb was standing so close. If she stretched out her hand she could touch him…If she leant in close he could hold her…It was bound to be difficult.
‘So, what do you think?’
Marianne blinked hard at the tears scratching at her eyes. ‘About?’
‘Coming to Andovaria? Do you have a husband to keep you in England? Family?’ he added when she’d yet to answer.
‘No husband.’
‘Boyfriend?’
Now, that was none of his business. Marianne swivelled round and schooled her features into the expression she habitually used to quash anyone who thought to question a young blonde female’s ability to have opinions that ran counter to their own. ‘Andovaria is only a short flight away,’ СКАЧАТЬ