Which Prince Alexandre instantly took into the warmth of his much larger one, sending a sizzle of awareness up Stazzi’s arm and into her already tingling breasts. Her blue silk blouse and the lace bra she wore beneath it suddenly felt uncomfortably constrictive, the black jacket of her business suit uncomfortably hot.
“Anastazia.” Even his voice was made for sex, low, with a hint of gravel, along with heat and sensuality.
The same heat that now flooded between her thighs as the prince lifted her hand to press those chiseled—warm—lips against her knuckles. All the time, that dark green gaze held hers captive.
It was as if there were only the two of them in the hallway. No Daniel watching them with amusement. No Gerard St Sebastien frowning his disapproval. No expressionless bodyguards.
Bodyguards.
Because the man still holding her hand was a prince.
“Stazzi,” she corrected distractedly, removing her hand from his.
His head tilted as he studied her with those intense green eyes for several long seconds. “I prefer Anastazia,” he finally dismissed.
As if that was the end of the subject. Which it probably was. This man was a prince, Stazzi reminded herself self-derisively. Absolute ruler of his own island and everyone who lived on it. And her too, for the length of his stay at the Meyers Hotel.
If she still had a job after tonight. The fact that Daniel was smiling told her the prince hadn’t mentioned her email to him yet, but she couldn’t count on that continuing to be the case.
Talking of which… “Mr. St Sebastien.” She turned to greet the man standing at the prince’s side. The same man who had sent her all those previous emails over the past two weeks.
It was easy to tell the two men were related, Gerard St Sebastien a pale imitation of his cousin; his eyes were hazel rather than green, his hair brown instead of blue-black, his features less chiseled, and he stood an inch or two shorter than the other man too.
He also had a very limp handshake. A reluctant handshake that told Stazzi he would rather not have to touch her at all, but politeness dictated he should.
“I’ll now leave you in Stazzi’s very capable hands.” Daniel smiled at the prince before giving Stazzi a brief nod and stepping back into the lift to return to the ground floor.
Stazzi avoided looking at the prince. “May I introduce Adrian and Grant.” She turned to smile at the two hotel employees who had accompanied her. “They will be responsible for taking care of all your needs twenty-four-seven and are answerable directly to me, so if there’s anything—”
“I want you.”
Stazzi’s mouth went dry and her cheeks burned as the prince spoke to her in that voice of gravel and sex. He wanted her. What on earth—
“By all means, Adrian and Grant may take care of Gerard and my men.” He smiled at the two hotel employees behind her before returning that piercing gaze to Stazzi. “I would prefer that you’re the one to personally take care of all my personal needs during my stay here.”
If he meant that as further clarification for his original statement, then he had completely failed to reassure Stazzi.
Maybe she had misunderstood him?
Or maybe not…
There was a predatory glint in those dark green eyes looking down at her so intently, and his tone of voice had definitely implied something. A voice that had sent her imagination into overdrive. Those sensual lips were also curved slightly, as if Prince Alexandre was inwardly laughing at her.
Mocking her.
Stazzi had spent most of the day ensuring that this suite was prepared exactly as Gerard St Sebastien and the man from Knight Security had instructed. She’d had to cancel her special date with Will tonight in order to accommodate the prince’s demand she be here when he arrived a day early. She’d also been on tenterhooks all day waiting for the other shoe to drop in regard to her wrongly sent email. And now he was daring to mock her?
“I’m sure you’ll find Grant and Adrian more than sufficient—” She broke off her brisk dismissal as the prince stepped forward, totally invading her space as he lowered his head and spoke softly beside her ear.
“‘A princely pain in the fucking ass’?”
Stazzi felt the color leech from her cheeks at hearing the prince quietly quote those words directly from her email. Even her lips felt numb, and she was pretty sure her eyes had widened guiltily as the prince moved back only slightly to look down at her in challenge, the warmth of his breath a soft caress against her jaw.
She couldn’t look away, was held totally captive by those predatory green eyes.
Intense, compelling eyes, that told her she hadn’t misunderstood him. That this man meant exactly what he’d said. He did want her. Physically. Tied to his bed or otherwise.
That realization was a little overwhelming. Flattering too, if she was honest with herself. The man was a prince, for goodness’ sake, and as rich as Croesus. What woman wouldn’t feel flattered at being told she was wanted by him?
Except it wasn’t going to happen. She was almost engaged, and even if she hadn’t been, she certainly didn’t supply those sorts of needs for the hotel guests.
Alexandre admired the light of rebellion that appeared in Anastazia’s eyes even as the color returned to her cheeks and she tilted her chin in an attempt to return his challenging gaze.
She was even more beautiful in the flesh than she appeared in her photograph. Her long hair gleamed blue-black in the overhead lighting, her eyes were the turquoise blue of a mountain lake, and her skin smooth and the color of ivory. Her lips were full and soft, the bottom lip slighter redder than the top, despite the application of a clear peach-tinted lip gloss. As if her teeth had been worrying at that lip before his arrival. Because of the email she had sent him earlier today? Alexandre had a feeling that might be the case.
His gaze moved lower to where he could clearly see the voluptuousness of the breasts pressing against her silk blouse, her waist slender, hips curvaceous. As for her legs… Those long shapely legs seemed never-ending.
Alexandre could all too easily imagine those legs wrapped about his waist as he entered her slick heat before pounding into her remorselessly. The thought of it was enough to cause his cock to swell in anticipation.
“If you would excuse us, gentlemen?” He took a firm hold of the top of Anastazia’s arm and kept her at his side as he dismissed everyone else. “Perhaps Adrian and Grant would be good enough to show you to your rooms?”
“Of course.” The elder of the two men—Adrian?—complied. “If you would care to come this way, gentlemen.”
Alexandre might find being the ruling prince of Androcco irksome at times, but he was all too appreciative of it now. Only Gerard dared to give him a frustrated glare of disapproval before he too trailed reluctantly down the hallway behind the other men. Leaving Alexandre alone with Anastazia. “Shall we go through to the sitting room?” he prompted smoothly.
She stood her ground. “If this is about that email I sent to you by mistake earlier today, then please accept my sincere apology. It’s no excuse, but—”
“No, it isn’t.”
She blinked. “You haven’t heard my excuse yet.”
“Do I need to?”
She gave him a quick glance before just as quickly looking away again.
“Also,” Alexandre continued softly, “I have a feeling your idea of an apology and my own are entirely different.”
She eyed him nervously. “I don’t understand…”
“Then perhaps we might discuss the problem over dinner?”
“Dinner?”
“Eating here would be preferable, of course, because then we wouldn’t need the presence of my bodyguards. Unless, of course, you have plans to assassinate me?” he added dryly.
“No, of course I don’t!” she gasped.
He nodded. “Then my bodyguards would need to come with us if you would prefer to eat at a restaurant outside the hotel—”
“I’m not—I ha
ve no intention—I’ve already eaten dinner.” Anastazia gave a firm shake of her head.
Alexandre studied her through narrowed lids, noting the anxiety about her eyes, the slight pallor to her cheeks. “Why did you just lie to me?”
“I didn’t—”
“What did you eat for dinner?”
“I… Well…” She gave an exasperated frown. “Look, Your Highness—”
“Alexandre.”
She blinked. “Mr. Meyers prefers his staff not to be overfamiliar with the hotel guests.”
“I am sure Mr. Meyers prefers that his staff not call one of those guests ‘a princely pain in the fucking ass’ too, but we both know that ship has already sailed,” he drawled as he once again grasped the top of her arm and took her with him as he strolled through to the huge sitting room of the suite. A room shrouded in the warmth given off by two lamps, one on each table beside one of the two low couches.
“Your Highness—”
“Alexandre,” he encouraged as he released her to walk across to the bar and peruse the array of bottles there, all of them to Alexandre’s preference. And all, no doubt, requested by Gerard on his behalf.
Stazzi chewed her bottom lip, a habit she had when worried or, in this case, out of her depth.
She had done a lot of lip chewing today.
If this man thought—
“Whisky or wine?”
Stazzi frowned. “I don’t—”
“I believe the whisky would be better for your nervousness,” the prince mused as he ignored her obvious protest to pour the single-malt whisky into two crystal glasses.
Nervousness? Stazzi wasn’t feeling anything as insipid as nervousness. Sheer terror at the power this man currently held over her might be a better description.
“Here we are.” He strolled across to where Stazzi stood, holding out one of the glasses to her until she took it with trembling fingers. “To us.” He tapped his glass against hers before raising it to his lips and taking a sip, that intense green gaze once again holding her captive over the rim of the glass.
To us?
What the hell did that mean?
There was no us. Not now. Not ever.
Even if this prince is the most gorgeous and sexy man I’ve ever set eyes on and he so obviously wants me?
Yes, even if.
She had Will. She was about to become engaged to Will.
What she wasn’t about to become was the sexual plaything of some princely ruler of an island in the Mediterranean.
Stazzi straightened her shoulders. “If you’re looking for female companionship during your stay, then I’m sure your cousin is perfectly capable of making those arrangements for you too—”
“I want you.”
This time, there was no mistaking Alexandre St Sebastien’s statement for anything other than what it was.
A statement of intent.
Or a princely decree.
Chapter 3
Stazzi raised her chin. “I’m engaged to be married.”
His mouth tightened, that piercing gaze hardening before shifting to the fingers tightly curled about her whisky glass. “You aren’t wearing a ring.”
“Well… No.” Damn this man’s powers of observation. “What I meant to say was I’m about to become engaged to be married. Tonight, in fact. As soon as I leave here.” She couldn’t seem to stop babbling, her words tumbling defensively over each other.
Maybe the prince was right and she did need a swig of his fifty-year-old single-malt whisky?
She took a huge swallow, almost choking as the alcohol hit the back of her throat before warming, burning, as it traveled down to her stomach. Her empty stomach. Another thing the prince had been right about; Stazzi hadn’t eaten dinner yet. Or lunch either, for that matter. She had been too apprehensive all day, in regard to his expected arrival, and what he might say to Daniel Meyers about her, to be able to eat.
That predatory gaze remained fixed on her. “The obvious way to prevent that from happening, would appear to be not to allow you to leave here this evening.”
Stazzi placed the glass of whisky carefully down on the coffee table, her mouth and throat feeling as if they were on fire. “I’m flattered by your interest, of course—”
“Then stay.”
Her frown was pained. “Look, I realize you’re absolute ruler of your own island, but things have moved along here in England. Nowadays we take a more democratic point of view. A less…feudal approach.”
Dark brows rose. “Feudal?”
“Yes. You know that thing they used to have centuries ago.”
“Thing?”
“Droit du seigneur, or whatever it was called.”
Alexandre didn’t know whether to laugh or be annoyed at this young woman’s even more outrageous comment. “How long have you been employed at the Meyers Hotel?”
Blue eyes narrowed. “If that’s another threat—”
“It isn’t.”
“Oh. Well.” Her brows lowered as she gave the question some thought. “About four years. I’ve been manager of the penthouse floor for the past year.”
“Successfully?”
“Well, of course success— Sorry.” She grimaced at her obvious aggression.
Alexandre chuckled. Not only beautiful, but funny too. And so outspoken.
Except Anastazia still wasn’t saying what he wanted to hear.
He knew he was coming on too strong, that she was wary of the depth of his interest. It was just difficult, now that he was actually here and in her company, to behave any other way. He had wanted this woman sexually from the moment he first saw her photograph. Now he wanted to know her too. What she liked and disliked. How she spent her time away from work. When she’s going to agree to share my bed.
She drew in a deep breath before speaking. “The two of us have obviously got off to a bad start, Your Highness. Completely my fault, I accept that. I made a serious error earlier today, and I deserve to be punished for it.”
“You believe my…interest in you to be a punishment?”
“I believe you’re enjoying discomforting me, yes.”
“My interest in you causes you discomfort?” he persisted.
Her cheeks flushed. “Could we just move on? Or you could just demand that Daniel dismiss me? Because I’m really not enjoying being toyed with in this way.”
Alexandre made himself comfortable in one of the armchairs. “I have no intention of demanding Daniel Meyers dismiss you.”
Some of the tension visibly eased from her shoulders. “I really am sorry about the email today. I was distracted, and a little…annoyed at having my plans changed for this evening. I realize that’s no excuse for having insulted you,” she added hastily. “But I truly hope that won’t affect your enjoyment of your stay at the Meyers Hotel.”
“Very nicely and professionally said,” Alexandre drawled. “Now could we get back to the subject of the two of us having dinner together?”
“Are you deaf or just—” She broke off with a wince as she realized she was about to be rude to him again.
Her outspokenness really was refreshing. Alexandre hadn’t had this much fun in…well, almost two years, to be exact.
He had been in shock and grieving for his father’s early demise during those first months of ruling Androcco. Gerard had been a great help, of course, as his father had helped Alexandre’s father before him.
But by the time Alexandre came out of his fog of grief he found himself changed, in both appearance and demeanor. He also felt very much alone, apart from the company of the stalwart Gerard.
The friends Alexandre had partied with in the past now all seemed shallow and without purpose. The women who pursued him were more interested in becoming the Princess of Androcco, and in the wealth and privilege that involved, rather than loving and helping him with the burden of actually ruling the island.
He couldn’t remember when he had last fucked a woman, let alone spent any time alone with one.
> Until now.
He was alone with Anastazia Carmichael, and she was proving to be even more of a diversion than he had imagined she might be. A photograph had been enough to tell Alexandre he wanted her sexually, but the fact she wasn’t afraid or in awe of him, and the lack of censorship in her remarks when in his company, was proving highly entertaining. The droit du seigneur remark had been priceless.
Considering the lack of a woman in his bed these past two years, the idea currently had its merits too.
Except Anastazia Carmichael wasn’t one of his subjects, and she happened to be the one woman he wanted. Even more so since meeting her.
Her imminent engagement was a complication Alexandre hadn’t foreseen. Not insurmountable, but an irritation nonetheless. The fact that it was imminent and not yet fact meant he certainly wasn’t above using his title, and his position as a guest in the hotel, as leverage to attaining his goal. Which was Anastazia Carmichael. Naked. In his bed.
The thought alone was enough to cause his already engorged cock to heat and throb. “As you know the room service menu, perhaps you would care to order dinner for both of us?” he suggested. “Anything but shellfish. I have an allergic reaction to it. But then you probably knew that…?” he added ruefully, knowing that Gerard would have done his job as usual, and informed the hotel of his allergy.
“I’ve made a note of it, and informed the hotel kitchen staff, yes.”
He nodded. “Otherwise, I eat and enjoy all foods.”
Stazzi decided this arrogant prince wasn’t deaf but instead had selective hearing. She had turned down his dinner invitation twice now, and yet still he persisted— He hadn’t made it an invitation this time, but a statement, Stazzi realized as she once again began to chew on her bottom lip.
“Do you do that a lot?”
Stazzi gave a start at the realization Prince Alexandre had not only risen to his feet while she had been lost in thought, but he now stood just inches in front of her, that dark green gaze fixed intently on her mouth as her teeth worried her bottom lip.
Resisting Alexandre (Knight Security 0.5) Page 2