Princess's Pregnancy Secret. Natalie Anderson

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      She was out of place and yet this was her home—where she’d been born and raised and where her future was destined, dictated by duty.

      ‘You have the chance to experience this...’ he waved at the ballroom full of beautiful people ‘...yet you’re hanging back in the shadows.’

      He voiced her fantasy—reminding her of her stupid, crazy plan. She’d arranged for a large selection of costumes to be delivered to the nurses’ quarters at the hospital for tonight’s masquerade. No one would know that one dress, one wig, and one mask were missing from that order. All done so she, cloistered, protected, precious Princess Eleni, could steal one night as an anonymous girl able to talk to people not as a princess, but as a nobody.

      She could be no one.

      And yet, when it had come to it, she’d swiftly realised her error. She’d watched those guests arrive. Clustered together, laughing squads of friends—the kind she’d never had. How could she walk into that room and start talking to any of them without her title as her armour? What had she to offer? How could she blend in when she hadn’t any clue what to discuss other than superficial niceties? She’d ached with isolation, inwardly mocking her own self-piteous hurt, as she’d uselessly stared at all those other carefree, relaxed people having fun.

      Privileged Princess Eleni had burned with jealousy.

      Now she burned with something else, something just as shameful.

      ‘I’m biding my time,’ she prevaricated with a chuckle, drawing on years of practising polite conversation to cover her shaken, unruly emotions.

      ‘You’re wasting it.’

      His bluntness shocked that smile from her lips. She met his narrowed gaze and knew he saw too much.

      ‘You want a night out, you need to get out there and start circulating,’ he advised.

      Her customary serene demeanour snapped at his tone. ‘Maybe that’s not what I want.’

      The atmosphere pulsed between them like an electrical charge faulting.

      Heat suffused every inch of her skin. Now she truly was unable to hold his gaze. But as she looked down he reached out. The merest touch of fingers to her chin, nudging so she looked him in the eye again. She fought to quell the uncontrollable shiver that the simple touch generated.

      ‘No?’ Somehow he was even closer as he quietly pressed her. ‘Then what do you want?’

      That she couldn’t answer. Not to herself. Not now. But he could see it anyway.

      ‘Walk with me through the ballroom,’ he said in a low voice. ‘I dare you.’

      His challenge roused a rare surge of rebellion within her. She who always did as she was bid—loyal, dutiful, serene. Princess Eleni never caused trouble. But he stirred trouble. Her spirit lifted; she was determined to show strength before him.

      ‘I don’t need you to dare me,’ she breathed.

      ‘Don’t you?’ He called her bluff.

      Silent, she registered the gauntlet in his hard gaze. The glow of those blue eyes ignited her to mutinous action. She turned and strode to the edge of the alcove. Nerves thrummed, chilling her. What if she was recognised?

      But this man hadn’t recognised her and she knew her brother would be busy in the farthest corner of the room meeting select guests at this early stage in the evening. Everyone was preoccupied with their own friends and acquaintances. She might just get away with this after all.

      ‘Coming?’ She looked back and asked him, refusing—yet failing—to flush.

      He took her hand and placed it in the crook of his elbow, saying nothing, but everything, with a sardonic look. The rock-hard heat of his biceps seeped through the fine material of his tailored suit and her fingers curled around it instinctively. He pressed his arm close to his side, trapping her hand.

      He walked slowly, deliberately, the length of the colonnades. To her intense relief, he didn’t stop to speak to anyone, instead he kept his attention on her, his gaze melting that cold block of nervousness lodged in her diaphragm.

      It turned out she’d been wrong to worry about recognition. Because while people were looking, it was not at her.

      ‘All these women are watching you,’ she murmured as they drew near the final column. ‘And they look surprised.’

      A smile curled his sensual lips. ‘I haven’t been seen dating recently.’

      ‘They think I’m your date?’ she asked. ‘Am I supposed to feel flattered?’

      His laughter was low and appreciative. ‘Don’t deny it, you do.’

      She pressed her lips together, refusing to smile. But the sound of his laugh wasn’t just infectious, it seemed to reach right inside her and chase all that cold away with its warmth.

      ‘There.’ He drew her into the last alcove, a mirror of the first, and she was appallingly relieved to discover it too was empty at this early hour.

      ‘Was that so awful?’ he asked, not relinquishing her hand but walking with her to the very depths of the respite room and turning to face her.

      Inwardly she was claiming it as a bittersweet victory. A date at last.

      ‘Who are you?’ She felt foolish that she didn’t know when it was clear many others did. ‘Why do they look at you?’

      He cocked his head, his amusement gleaming. ‘Why do you look at me?’

      Eleni refused to answer. She was not going to pander to his already outsize ego.

      His lazy smile widened. ‘What do you see?’

      That one she could answer. She smiled, relishing her release from ‘polite princess response’.

      ‘I see arrogance,’ she answered boldly. ‘A man who defies convention and doesn’t give a damn what anyone thinks.’

      ‘Because?’

      She angled her head, mirroring his inquiring look. ‘You don’t wear a mask. You don’t make the effort that’s expected of everyone else.’

      ‘And I don’t do that—because why?’ His attention narrowed—laser-like in its focus on her.

      ‘Because you don’t need to,’ she guessed, seeing the appreciation flicker in his eyes. ‘You don’t want their approval. You’re determined to show you don’t need anything from them.’

      His expression shuttered, but he didn’t deny her assessment of him. Her heart quickened as he stepped closer.

      ‘Do you know what I see?’ Almost angrily he pointed to the mask covering most of her face. ‘I see someone hiding more than just her features. I see a woman who wants more than what she thinks she should have.’

      She stilled, bereft—of speech, of spirit. СКАЧАТЬ