‘You learned to waltz at school?’
‘Private boys’ school. Ballroom dancing was seen as a social skill. But I only waltz at weddings.’ He twirled her around the room until she was breathless and laughing. ‘You’re a good dancer yourself.’
‘I also had lessons,’ she said.
Finn noticed she didn’t elaborate in any of her answers. Perhaps her life really had been ordinary, even dull, although he wondered how someone as poised and vivacious as Natalie could come from dullness. Maybe she hadn’t had the same opportunities in life he had been fortunate enough to have. Or the truth might be that her life hadn’t been very happy and she was reticent about reliving an unhappy past even in social conversation.
Sometimes he was guilty of taking for granted the happy and supportive family life he enjoyed. This wedding—the happiness Eliza had found with Jake—had got him thinking. He wasn’t as immune to wedding fever as he’d thought. Now, at the age of thirty-two, perhaps he did need to shake himself up, settle down and start a family of his own.
His nonna certainly thought that was the case. His broken engagement was ten years behind him—he could not in all reason continue to blame it for his aversion to marriage. He had to name it for what it was: an excuse—one he used to convince himself as well as others. The truth was that he hadn’t met the right woman. Not one he could contemplate sharing his life with. When he did, he would willingly make that walk down the aisle. But he wouldn’t compromise. And it wouldn’t be any time soon—not when the business took up all his energy and time.
Perhaps...
He couldn’t let himself think there was any chance of Natalie being that woman. No matter what that crazy Kerry had said. No matter how he’d found himself agreeing with her that he and Natalie did feel right together. Not when Natalie was English. A tourist. Her home a twenty-two-hour plane ride away.
Long-distance dating had been a disaster with his former fiancée Chiara, the girl he’d met in Italy ten years back. Her level of treachery had left him bitter and broken.
The frequency of their phone calls had decreased. He’d been preoccupied with exams. But the day exams finished, on impulse he’d decided to make a surprise visit to Italy and booked a flight for the next day.
Chiara had been surprised, all right. Not only had she found herself another guy, she was pregnant. But she’d still hung on to Finn’s engagement ring. He had vowed never, ever to try long-distance again. This—Natalie—was purely for the short term. He had to keep telling himself that.
‘Those lessons paid off,’ he said to Natalie now. ‘You’re very graceful.’
It felt as if they were dancing together in their own bubble of awareness. But the reality was that they were dancing alongside other guests. When would he be able to get her alone?
She looked up at him. ‘That woman... Kerry. It was kind of weird, what she said.’
‘Yes. But I wasn’t lying when I agreed with her that something seems right about us being together.’ He could hardly believe he was saying this to a woman he had only known for a matter of hours.
Her blue eyes widened. ‘You meant that?’
‘About the rightness? I feel it. Do you?’
Her forehead pleated in a frown. ‘Yes. I... I think I do. But I don’t understand—’
Finn felt a tap on his shoulder and turned to find a beaming Eliza and Jake cutting in on him and Natalie for their obligatory dances. He had no choice but to relinquish his intimate hold on the most gorgeous of women. He cursed under his breath that he hadn’t got a chance to hear what Natalie had been about to say.
Reluctantly he let her go and watched Natalie waltz away with Jake, smiling up at him. A spasm of jealousy shuddered through him at the sight of his beautiful dance partner in the arms of another man—even though Jake was a newlywed husband who adored his new wife.
What was happening here?
He’d only just met Natalie. He hardly knew her. But he’d never felt such a connection with a woman—if that was what you called something so compelling. He’d dated. He’d had steady girlfriends. He’d been engaged. But none of those relationships had started with a lightning bolt from nowhere.
‘Surely you can take your eyes off her for long enough to speak to me?’ said Eliza drily as he danced with his friend the bride.
‘What do you mean?’ he blustered.
‘You’re mesmerised by Natalie. She’s beautiful. Charming. I get it. But you need to back off from her, Finn. She’s not for you.’
‘This is about Prue, isn’t it?’ He gritted his teeth. ‘How many times do I have to tell you I’m not interested?’
‘Even so, it was rude of you to change those place cards. What on earth got into you to do such a thing?’
Eliza had always been an outspoken kind of friend.
He shrugged. ‘Sorry.’
But he wasn’t sorry at all, and Eliza’s sigh told him she knew it.
‘This can’t end well. That’s all I can say.’
In spite of himself, he felt a chill of foreboding. ‘Are you telling me that Natalie has a criminal record or—?’
Eliza looked aghast. ‘Of course not. Don’t be ridiculous.’
‘Is she after my money?’ he joked.
Ever since that Sunday newspaper had included him in a list of the most eligible young millionaires he’d been plagued by women whose interest in him was purely mercenary. Which had made him even more cynical about relationships.
‘I very much doubt it,’ Eliza said. ‘She’s just not for you. You’ll have to trust me on this.’
He snorted his disbelief. ‘You’re warning me off? In the meantime, your neighbour Kerry is suggesting I propose to Natalie because we seem so perfect together.’
‘What?’
‘Yeah. In fact she asked if we’d made wedding plans.’
‘Really?’ Eliza frowned. ‘Kerry reckons she’s psychic. She... Well, she wouldn’t say that if she didn’t believe it was true.’
Finn rolled his eyes. ‘Psychic? Huh! She seemed nice enough until she came out with that nonsense.’
‘What’s stranger still is that her predictions often come true. The first time she met Jake she told me I’d marry him. It seemed highly unlikely at the time.’
‘Coincidence—a lucky guess,’ Finn said dismissively.
‘Superstitious nonsense?’ Eliza said.
Finn agreed. The trouble was, he came from three cultures where superstitions were taken seriously. By the older generation, that was. Not by him. He was a facts and numbers man.
‘But it was disconcerting,’ he admitted.
‘In this case she’s got it wrong,’ Eliza said. ‘I’ll say it again—back off from Natalie.’
‘You’re seriously warning me, Eliza?’
‘As a friend. Yes.’
‘And as a friend, I appreciate your concern—although I don’t know where it’s coming from. But I’d rather you wished me luck than tossed a bucket of cold water over me. Because I like Natalie and I’m going to continue to enjoy her company for the rest of the evening.’ He kissed her on the cheek. ‘Thank you for the dance. Again, congratulations to you and Jake. Now I’m going to march over there to your husband and claim my dance partner back.’
* * *
Natalia couldn’t remember when she’d so enjoyed a man’s company. Dancing with Finn, their steps perfectly matched, was magic. Chatting with him, laughing with him, deepened the spell.
But the enchanted evening was winding down. The bride and groom had left to a chorus of good wishes for their honeymoon and a long life together. Other guests were starting to disperse and the band had announced the last number for the evening.
Soon the big room would echo with emptiness. Her bodyguards would be discreetly waiting to escort her back to the harbour-side hotel where she was booked in under her
Natalie Gerard name. She would never see Finn again. She felt plunged into gloom at the thought.
The last dance was a slow one and they danced it close together. She breathed in the scent of him, felt his warm breath ruffling her hair. All sorts of potential conversations were running through her head. But all she managed was to look up at him and stutter. ‘I... I don’t want the night to end.’
His green eyes met hers. ‘Neither do I.’
Too many hopes and possibilities were trembling on her lips for her actually to articulate the words I want to be with you. But finally she managed to choke out an invitation of sorts—although not the one she really wanted to communicate.
‘I’m staying at a lovely hotel. It has a very smart bar, open all hours. Would you like to come back for a drink? Or a coffee? Or...?’ Her voice trailed away. She was articulate in five languages, yet she was stumbling on a simple offer to extend the evening with a drink in a bar.
He tilted her chin, so his gaze met hers. ‘Yes—to whatever you’re offering.’
‘I have a car and driver booked,’ she said. And there would be another car with the second bodyguard following.
‘Cancel it. Let me drive you in my car,’ he said.
For a moment she was tempted. There was nothing she would have liked better than to be alone with Finn in his car. But ‘living dangerously’ had its limitations. The helicopter accident that had claimed the lives of her brother, his wife and their toddler son had been an accident, not an assassination. But after such a tragedy, security for the remaining heirs had become an obsession with the royal family. She could not dismiss her bodyguards.
‘I can’t do that, I’m afraid,’ she said. She held her breath. Would that be a deal-breaker for Finn? ‘You would have to come in my car. Or we could go to the hotel separately and meet there.’
‘I’ll ride with you.’ Did he, like her, not want to waste a moment of the limited time they had together?
She sighed her relief. ‘Good. My driver is outside. I’ll call him and tell him we’ll have an extra passenger.’
Would Finn wonder why she should do that? Most hire car drivers wouldn’t have to be notified of an extra passenger.
‘I’ll have to go back to the table and retrieve my handbag. My phone’s in it,’ she said.
‘As long as you come straight back to me,’ he said, in that deep husky voice.
‘Count on it,’ she said, thrilled by the look in his eyes.
She called her bodyguards and provided Finn’s name. She knew they would immediately run a security check on him. Perhaps she was being foolish, but she felt sure nothing untoward would come up on the check. She scarcely knew him, but she felt she could trust him to be who he said he was. It was she who was twisting the truth about herself right out of shape.
‘Ready to go?’ Finn said when she returned to his side.
‘The car will come around to the front to pick us up,’ she said.
He put a possessive arm around her as they headed outside. She leaned into him, loving the closeness to his strength and warmth. Then felt bereft when she moved away from him for the sake of appearances as they reached the main doors.
The street level entrance to the grand old house was bracketed by tall palm trees and large old-fashioned carriage lamps. Cars and taxis inched forward on the circular driveway to pick up the departing wedding guests. Natalia spotted the unobtrusive dark sedan driven by her bodyguard in the line-up. The other bodyguard wouldn’t be far away. Their orders were to be close by always.
She could not fault her parents for taking such good care of her, even if it did seem irksome at times. The terrible loss of her brother and his family—not just Carl, but precious two-year-old Rudolph, whom they’d all adored, and his mother Sylvie—had thrown them into despair.
Tristan had been forced to step up into a role he’d felt ill-prepared for. Natalia had been thrust into being second in line to the throne and her freedom had been severely curtailed.
Becoming second in line to a throne after a sudden death was a different matter altogether from being fourth in line behind three male heirs. She’d gone from being relatively independent to being cosseted. And the campaign to get her married to someone suitable and bearing further heirs had been stepped up. She’d begun to feel trapped—albeit in a golden cage—stifled, and more than a touch rebellious. She’d been determined to get permission to leave Montovia and attend this wedding.
Much as she railed against the stepped-up security, she could see the reasons why. But nothing was going to stop her enjoying every minute available to her with Finn.
She followed him to take their places near the cluster of guests waiting for their cars. Thankfully, Tristan and Gemma were not among them to see her looking so cosy with Finn. Her brother and his wife had left early because Gemma hadn’t been feeling well. On the dance floor, Natalia had done nothing to earn her brother’s disapproval. That might not be the case by the time the evening was through.
It soon became obvious that they were going to have to wait a few minutes for her car. She didn’t want to wait a second longer to be alone with Finn.
He seemed to feel the same. ‘We don’t have to get caught up in banal conversation about why the traffic is backed up,’ he said. ‘C’mon.’
Just a few steps took them away from the other guests until they stood shoulder to shoulder by the side of the portico, away from the lamps that lit the entrance, private in the shadow of a large camellia tree studded with luminous white blooms. Huge tubs of exotic flowering orchids hid them from general view—plants she would only see in a greenhouse back home. The air was rich with the scent of jasmine, romantic and intoxicating.
Everything about Australia was so different from her homeland of snow-capped mountains, vast lakes and the sharp scent of pine needles. And Finn was so different from any man she had ever met. Different in such an exciting way.
So far away from home she wasn’t bound by the rules.
She shivered—not just because of a gust of cool, early spring air but because she felt a sudden nervousness about finally being alone with him and what she hoped that might lead to.
He turned to face her. ‘Are you cold?’
‘Just the breeze,’ she said, wrapping her arms around herself, not wanting to betray how she was feeling about him.
Finn stepped closer, his gaze intent on her face. In the poorly lit gloom his eyes gleamed green. She forgot to shiver, almost forgot to breathe, seeing the expression in his eyes, the sensual set of his mouth. Her heart started thudding so erratically that surely he could hear it.
He gently disengaged her arms and held her hands by her side, his hands warm on her bare skin. For a long moment he looked into her eyes, and questions and answers were silently exchanged. Her lips parted in anticipation as he lowered his mouth to hers and she sighed with pleasure as he kissed her.
At last.
His mouth was warm and firm on hers in a kiss that was sure and demanding while gentle at the same time. Her eyes closed as she savoured the closeness of him and she kissed him back.
She was just getting into the rhythm of kisses given and returned when he broke the contact. She swallowed a whimper of dismay at the loss—she didn’t want to sound needy.
‘I’ve wanted to kiss you for hours,’ he said, in that so-sexy deep voice.
‘Me too,’ she said. ‘Kiss you, I mean. Please...please don’t stop.’
He laughed, low and triumphant, and then kissed her again. His touch ignited the hunger for him that had been brewing since the moment she’d seen him. She’d been without a man in her life for a long time, but this wasn’t just hunger for a man’s touch—it was hunger for him, this man, Finn.
His tongue slid between her lips to meet hers. He let go of her hands to put his arms around her and draw her closer. She wound her arms around his neck and returned his
kiss, loving the feel of his tongue, his lips, the taste of him. Starbursts of sensation seemed to ignite along every pleasure pathway.
He certainly knew how to kiss. And the fact that he was experienced was a point in his favour. She wanted a man who knew what he was doing.
Yes. Finn was the one. There was no doubt in her mind.
Tonight, she wanted to lose her virginity to Finn.
CHAPTER FOUR
NATALIA COULD NOT get enough of Finn’s kisses. She could not get enough of Finn. But did her kisses, so enthusiastically returned, betray her lack of experience? Could he guess at her untouched state?
The thoughts plagued her as the sound of her name being called—her fake name—made her reluctantly break away from his kiss to see that her car had reached the head of the line.
She had to take a moment to compose herself, and noticed with a secret thrill that Finn had to do the same. Then, with a gentlemanly hand on her elbow, he steered her to where the driver, cap firmly down to shield his face, held the door open for her.
She hoped the remaining guests waiting for their transport were too busy chatting among themselves to notice the signs of recent passionate kisses on an incognito princess slinking out from the shadows—her flushed face, her lack of lipstick, her tousled hair... Then she realised that because she was incognito no one would care. She was just another guest at a wedding.
The anonymity thrilled her.
Of course she’d been kissed before. Mostly by frogs, but also by a few genuine princes. But she’d never gone much further than kissing. Duty again. It was expected that a royal Montovian bride would be a virgin. Her marriage would be more about alliances and political strategy than passionate love. There had to be no doubt that any children born to the union were her husband’s legitimate offspring.
The necessity for her to stay chaste until marriage had been drummed into her from the time she’d understood what it was all about. But she hadn’t expected to still be a virgin at age twenty-seven. It was a situation she was beginning to find onerous. Most of her friends were married—mothers, even—while she was still wondering what it was like to make love with a man.
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