The Princess waited regally for them to approach—as, Finn supposed, a princess would. She was lovely—very slender, with dark hair twisted off her face in a severe up-do, as befitted the formality of the evening. She didn’t smile, rather she looked serious, perhaps somewhat snotty. Again, he supposed that might be typical princess behaviour. But she did manage a tentative hint of a smile.
He frowned, chasing a memory. There was something familiar about her smile... But then the smile was gone, and so was his moment of fleeting recognition.
As he approached she held out her hand—pale, slender, with perfectly manicured nails. He hesitated. Was he meant to kiss it? Bow down before her? No. It appeared that a formal handshake was all that was required.
‘My sister, the Princess Natalia,’ Tristan said.
‘Finn O’Neill,’ Finn said in turn.
He took the Princess’s hand in a firm grip and was surprised to find it trembled. How could she possibly be nervous? She must shake many strangers’ hands on occasions like this.
Tristan briefly explained his business connection with Finn. ‘You two might have already met,’ he said, looking from one to the other.
Huh? No way would he have forgotten meeting a beautiful young princess. ‘I don’t believe so,’ he said.
The Princess’s long pause began to seem awkward. Did she speak English? Because he sure as hell didn’t know a word of Montovian.
She cleared her throat, gave a little cough before finally she spoke. ‘Hello, Finn,’ she said. ‘I... I’m as shocked to see you here as you must be to see me.’
Her English-accented voice was immediately familiar, and plunged him back into a million memories of the enchantress back in Sydney who had made an utter fool of him. The woman who had bailed on him without a goodbye or any word of explanation.
He seethed at the mere thought of her. Maybe he really had fallen into a place populated by witches and warlocks, because this woman was claiming to be that woman and it could not possibly be true.
He decided to test her. ‘Natalie Gerard?’
The Princess bit her bottom lip, avoided his gaze. ‘There’s actually no such person. But I called myself that when I was in Sydney. When...when we met at Eliza and Jake’s wedding. I was incognito and in disguise.’
Finn stared at the woman who stood before him in the glittering dark dress. This was not the person he had known in Sydney. Natalie had long, thick blonde hair. Princess Natalia’s hair was dark, almost black, and put up in that severe style. Natalie was curvaceous; Natalia was very slender. She wore an elegant, modest gown; the last time he’d seen Natalie she’d been wearing only her pink lace underwear.
Hell, Natalia was an uptight Montovian princess, who lived a life of immense privilege in a lavishly appointed palace. Natalie was a sexy, uninhibited English girl on vacation in Sydney, who had made him laugh and been out-and-out naughty. This was crazy.
And yet there was something hauntingly familiar about the expressions that flitted across her face.
‘I don’t believe you’re Natalie. Are you her sister? Her cousin?’
This must be some kind of scam. Or real witchy stuff.
‘No.’ Princess Natalia’s dark eyelashes fluttered and her lips curved in a tremulous smile, as if that was the most ridiculous of suggestions.
Natalie’s smile.
The same curving of lush, beautifully shaped lips...the same perfect white teeth. Yet the smile seemed subdued, of lower wattage, not lit by the vivacity of Natalie. Finn looked closer, not caring that the intensity of his examination might breach some royal protocol. The eyes. Those beautiful iris-blue eyes.
He glanced back to Tristan. Not that he was in the habit of staring into another guy’s eyes but, yes, they were the same blue, just a shade darker than his sister’s. That was where he’d seen that colour before—when he’d been briefly introduced to Tristan at the wedding. Before the beautiful stranger across the aisle had captivated his attention.
‘I really am Natalie,’ the Princess said. ‘We sat at the same table. We...we swapped the place cards.’
‘You danced with my sister,’ said Tristan. ‘More than once.’
He’d done a whole lot more than dance with Natalie Gerard. But this woman? He didn’t know her.
An older man in military uniform passing by caught Tristan’s eye and he turned to acknowledge him. In the moment when Tristan was distracted, the Princess stepped closer.
‘Don’t you remember? You were my tutor in living dangerously,’ she whispered.
Only Natalie could know that.
Finn reeled, shocked not just by the intimacy of her words but by her closeness, her floral scent—so achingly familiar that it jolted him with memories he had battled to suppress.
Tristan turned his attention back to them. The Princess rolled her eyes so only Finn could see and in a flash she was the mischievous Natalie he’d known.
What the hell...?
Natalie and Princess Natalia were like light and shade. Yet the more he looked at the Princess, the more he could see Natalie. Until they morphed into one and the same person. Was she a natural blonde or a natural brunette? Her deception sickened him.
He clenched his fists by his sides. ‘I can’t get my head around this. Why the disguise? Why the deception?’
‘It was the only way I was allowed to go to Eliza and Jake’s wedding and get a chance to see Sydney. If the media had known I was there, it might have deflected attention from the bride and groom.’
‘Why would the media be so interested in you?’
She flushed. ‘Because I—’
Tristan interjected. ‘Because she is a beautiful European princess who isn’t yet married. That’s reason enough for their interest.’
‘Did Eliza know who you were?’ he asked. Then he answered his own question. ‘Of course she does. She warned me off Natalie Gerard. Now I see why.’
Princess Natalia’s eyebrows rose—they were black, Natalie’s had been light brown. ‘What did she say about me? Eliza and the other Party Queens were sworn to secrecy.’
‘Eliza did not betray your trust,’ he said, tight-lipped.
How right Eliza had been to try and steer him away from Natalie out of concern for him. That beautiful girl in the pink lace dress had been a liar and a fraud. And he’d been fool enough to have been taken in by her.
He cringed when he remembered how fascinated he had been by her. How genuine she had seemed. How achingly he’d wanted her. How he’d started to wonder if she could be more than a fling.
‘My sister’s escapade in Sydney must be kept a secret,’ Tristan said. ‘No one must know about her time pretending to be a commoner.’
A commoner? Who used such terms in this day and age? A hereditary prince like Tristan, Finn thought grimly. And a hereditary princess like his sister. A woman who had made a game out of slumming it with the commoners in Sydney.
He was her dirty little secret.
‘I would appreciate it if you kept that confidence now we are doing business together.’
Finn didn’t miss the warning in the Crown Prince’s words, or the appeal in the Princess’s eyes. The Montovian deal was both lucrative and prestigious. He didn’t want to jeopardise it.
‘I won’t spill any beans,’ he said through gritted teeth.
This situation was utterly unreal. As if he was trapped in a dark spider’s web.
‘I appreciate your discretion,’ said Tristan. ‘I didn’t make the connection with the man Natalia was dancing with and the owner of one of the biggest food import and export companies in Australia until I actually met you face to face.’
‘Your sister looked very different then. I really didn’t recognise her.’
He wanted to tell Tristan’s duplicitous sister exactly what he thought of her. Which would hardly be appropriate, consid
ering their surroundings. He took a breath to steady himself. Inhaled that exciting Natalie scent. Wanted to spit it out.
‘My sister did a good job in keeping under the radar,’ Tristan said.
‘I was under strict orders not to let anyone know who I really was,’ she said, with an undertone of pleading in her voice. ‘There are three important rules a Montovian princess must follow: she must never attract attention for the wrong reason, never be the focus of critical press and never be seen to reflect badly on the throne.’ She paused. ‘Of course there are a whole lot of other rules too.’
‘And by following those rules she enjoyed her vacation and avoided any scandal,’ said Tristan, looking approvingly at his sister.
Tristan obviously had no clue that he and Natalie had done much more than chat and dance. Finn suspected that in Tristan’s eyes her behaviour on the evening of the wedding would have been considered highly scandalous for a princess.
He remembered how passionate she had been. How intrigued he’d been by her. How gutted he’d been when he’d gone to the hotel the next morning to find she’d checked out and left no forwarding address. How furious.
She’d made a total fool of him. He wanted nothing to do with Natalie/Natalia. Yet his glance kept returning to her, and he was fascinated that this woman was the same one who had enchanted him in Sydney. She was, without a doubt, a mistress of disguise, totally without scruples—and a very good liar.
She looked up at him with those beautiful blue eyes that could lie and lie and lie. ‘Finn, I’m sorry I wasn’t honest with you. I had no choice.’
Everyone always had a choice whether to tell the truth or lie. He wanted to explain that to her. But in the interests of diplomacy and doing business with her family he could only nod tersely. Her behaviour had been unforgivable. The sooner he could turn on his heel and walk away from her, the better. That was if he was allowed to turn his back on her. He was a ‘commoner’ and she was royalty. Perhaps she expected him to walk backwards from her presence, bowing and scraping all the way.
No matter how lucrative the Montovian contract, he would never, ever agree to do that.
Tristan didn’t seem aware of the tension between him and his sister. ‘It is good that you two have reconnected,’ he said. ‘Because unfortunately an emergency calls me away from here tomorrow. Natalia, can I ask you, please, to stand in for me in my meetings with Finn?’
The Princess looked as disconcerted as Finn felt. ‘What meetings?’ she said.
‘Tomorrow morning I have organised a meeting for Finn with our master chocolatier at the chocolate factory.’
‘That’s always a pleasure,’ she said.
‘And then a meeting with the Chocolate Makers’ Association over lunch.’
She nodded. ‘You will need to brief me on the agenda.’
Tristan turned to Finn. ‘Natalia has her own interests, with her auctions and other charity work, but she also keeps her finger on the bigger picture of Montovia’s trade interests, and works with me when required.’
What choice did Finn have but to agree? ‘Fine by me,’ he said.
‘Natalia is also an expert on the castle and the old town. Natalia, could you please give Finn a tour of the castle in the morning and the points of interest in the town in the afternoon?’
‘Of course,’ she said.
Tristan gave a slight bow. ‘I must attend to my other guests. I shall leave you to carry on your conversation. Finn will be our guest for three days. There will be other opportunities for us to introduce him to our beautiful country during that time.’
CHAPTER SIX
NATALIA HAD TO keep shooting glances at Finn to make sure he was real—actually here in Montovia, working with her brother, and now with her, to further her country’s interests.
She wanted to reach up and touch him, to check he was indeed solid flesh and blood and not some hallucination she had conjured up out of her hopeless longing for him. But she didn’t dare risk it—not a hand on his arm, not a finger trailed down the smooth olive skin of his cheek. She had seen Finn’s eyes frost with cold disdain when he’d realised the truth of who she was, how she’d deceived him. Her touch would no longer be welcomed.
After Tristan had headed off towards another guest and left her alone with Finn, his expression didn’t warm into anything less forbidding. Yet for all the shock of encountering him so unexpectedly, and his open hostility—for which she couldn’t blame him—she felt an effervescent joy bubble through her. She’d thought she would never see him again anywhere but in her dreams. It was like some kind of magic that he was here, just touching distance away.
Finn. The strong attraction that had made every other man in the room—in the world—disappear from her awareness had not been dispersed by three months of absence. And now Tristan had delivered Finn back to her.
Soon they would be called to dinner. It was unlikely she would be seated near him. And there could be no mischievous swapping of place cards at a palace soirée. She felt an urgent need to apologise, to explain, to try and salvage something of that memorable time with him in Sydney. But she did not want to be overheard.
‘Finn,’ she said in a low voice. ‘I don’t think we need an audience. Shall we move over to that corner of the room?’
He nodded and followed her away from the main body of guests towards the windows that looked over the lake, closed to the chilly November evening. It was only a few steps away but it gave them some breathing space without being so private that her tête-à-tête with a handsome man would give rise to gossip.
The heavy gold brocade curtains had been pulled back to give a dramatic view across the lake, with the full moon reflected in the dark water, gleaming on the permanent snow high on the jagged peaks of the mountains. Finn admired the view with what seemed like genuine appreciation. In other circumstances it would have been romantic.
But romance was, sadly, not on the agenda. This was more akin to a confrontation.
An uncomfortable silence fell between them. Finn was the first to break it. ‘I keep telling myself there must be a rational explanation for your deception,’ he said.
‘Rational?’ She took a deep intake of breath. ‘There was nothing rational about how I felt about you,’ she said in a voice that wasn’t quite steady.
He frowned. ‘What do you mean?’
‘Meeting you in Sydney was so unexpected and...and wonderful. I had never felt like that about a man. I told you—you made the wedding magic for me. Logically, I should have said goodnight when the wedding wound up. But I simply couldn’t bear to shake your hand and thank you for your company as I should have. I was desperate to cling on to every possible minute with you. But I had given my word not to reveal my identity to anyone.’ She hesitated. ‘Also, I wondered if you would treat me the same way if you knew who I really was.’
‘That was my decision to make,’ he said. ‘You didn’t give me the opportunity to make it. Yet you trusted others with the truth.’
‘I didn’t know you. I had to be cautious. You could have been a reporter for all I knew.’
But she had trusted him enough to want to make love with him. And had spent the last three months regretting that caution had kicked in.
‘I trusted you to be who you said you were. But it was just a game to you.’
‘No. It wasn’t a game. I... I really liked you.’
But she hadn’t been honest with him. ‘Alla prossima,’ he had murmured, and she had translated, knowing it was a lie, that they would not meet again. Since then she had had plenty of opportunity to reflect on how he must have felt when he’d discovered she had gone without any explanation or goodbye.
She looked up at him, registered the shock he must have felt on seeing her, not the Natalie he had known. Maybe she had done too good a job on that disguise if he was having such difficulty reconciling the two aspects of her.
She tried to make all the regret she felt for treating him so thoughtlessly show in her eyes. ‘Finn. I’m sorry for—’
His dark brows drew together. ‘Sorry for what? Choose an option for your apology—you have several.’
He held up his left hand and ticked off her options finger by finger with his right hand. Beautiful hands that had felt so good on her body.
‘Option one—lying so thoroughly about your identity. Option two—standing me up by disappearing off the face of the earth with no explanation. Option three—making me go through that charade just now of guessing your identity.’
She swallowed hard against a lump of anguish. He thought so badly of her. ‘I... I plead guilty to options one and two, but I’m innocent of option three,’ she said. ‘I expect you must be angry, but you can’t pin that one on me.’
‘Did you really not know I’d be here tonight? Or was that another game for the amusement of you and your brother?’
‘I had absolutely no idea you would be here. Tristan had not informed me. I was so shocked I thought I was going to faint.’
His mouth twisted into a cynical line she hadn’t seen before. ‘You understand I might find it difficult to believe a word you say ever again?’
His words hit their target and she flushed. ‘I get that,’ she said. ‘But I really didn’t have a clue you would be here tonight—or indeed that Tristan was doing business with you. I don’t know why he didn’t tell me. Especially as he wants me to attend some of his meetings with our Montovian business people. I can only think he wanted to surprise me because he realised we’d met at the wedding.’
‘He certainly surprised me,’ he said, with a wry twist to his mouth.
‘Me too—and I wish he’d told me. Although for me it was a pleasant surprise. I... I’m happy to see you again, Finn, in spite of the way it’s happened.’ She looked up at him, but his only response was a grudging nod. ‘Possibly Tristan thought springing us on each other might be simpler than having to explain who I really was. Remember, he doesn’t know about...about what happened after the wedding?’
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