She stopped chewing as she became aware of the sudden thickening of the air around them. Of their total awareness of each other.
This close to him, Stazzi could smell the insidious aroma of his aftershave: sandalwood, lemon, and spice, and a hot maleness she knew had to be completely him. The same invasive heat she could feel coursing through her own body, causing her nipples to ache and that uncomfortable dampness between her thighs.
She was becoming aroused just by the proximity of Prince Alexandre of Androcco!
The telling bulge in the front of his tailored trousers told her he was as aroused by her.
This was overwhelmingly real, Stazzi realized as she felt herself sway toward him.
Immediate.
Intense.
Irresistible.
And totally disloyal to Will and our future together.
A reminder that flew totally out of her head as she felt the warmth of Alexandre’s breath against her cheek before his lips softly claimed hers.
He didn’t touch her in any other way. Just those chiseled and sensuous lips, soft at first, and then harder, becoming more demanding, as his tongue swept along the crease of her lips, asking her permission before entering.
She had to stop this. Needed to stop this—
Stazzi gave a groan, her lips parting of their own volition as that tongue breached and then laid siege to her mouth, claiming everywhere it licked and touched.
The press of his cock through the thin material of his tailored trousers was causing the juices to flow between her thighs, in readiness for the claiming thrust of that heavy cock—
Stazzi broke the kiss. “Alexandre…?”
“I want you so much.” Alexandre cupped her cheek with his hand as he lifted her face back up to his with the obvious intention of kissing her again.
She put her hands against his chest, meaning to push him away, only to have her betraying fingers linger and enjoy that heat, along with the play of hard muscles beneath the silk of his shirt.
“I would never hurt you, Anastazia.”
She looked up at him in bewilderment, knowing this was wrong, he was wrong, and yet, for the moment, she couldn’t remember why, felt totally bedazzled by the man and the intensity of the sexual arousal he was creating inside her.
“I very much want to make love to you, Anastazia.” His lips moved against the warmth of her cheek before those even white teeth nipped gently against her earlobe, his breath a caress against her skin. “To take you to bed and—”
“I said no!” Sense—what little she had left—reasserted itself, reminding Stazzi of exactly why this shouldn’t be happening.
Who she was.
A woman on the brink of an engagement and marriage.
Who he was.
A ruling prince who could have any woman he wanted.
Except her.
He couldn’t have her, because she was already taken.
And if I wasn’t?
She couldn’t—daren’t, even go there. Because her response to this man was so unexpected. Worrying. Confusing, when she knew it was only her loyalty to Will and their future together that was holding her back from succumbing completely to Alexandre’s seduction.
A man she barely knew.
A man who was only playing with her.
A prince who was used to demanding what he wanted and expecting it to be obeyed.
A prince who was totally out of her league.
“I’m a man first and foremost.” Alexandre spoke as if he knew her thoughts.
Or as if she had spoken those thoughts out loud?
All of them? Or just that last part about him being a prince?
Not that it mattered. There was no way Alexandre could help but be aware of her response to him. The air around them had grown even thicker and become spiced with the aroma of the arousal dampening her panties. As insidious as the heat of Alexandre’s body as it curled about her senses.
She would deal with the guilt of that arousal later. Right now, she had to put distance between herself and the man creating it. “A man I don’t know.” She stepped back and was at last able to draw a deep breath into her starved lungs. “A man I don’t want to know,” she added determinedly.
“Another lie,” Alexandre murmured regretfully. “You may lie all you want to yourself and the man you are contemplating marrying, but don’t attempt to lie to me. I know you, Anastazia—”
“Like hell you do!” She glared her anger at him, cheeks burning. “You don’t know a damn thing about me. Nothing. Zilch. Nada.” Her hands were clenched at her sides. “We’ve just met, you’re a VIP guest in the hotel I work at, and because of that I will be as polite and helpful to you as I would be to any other guest. But,” she continued firmly as he would have spoken, “don’t ever attempt to repeat what happened just now.”
“Or?”
Her mouth firmed at the amusement she could see in the depths of those deep green eyes. The bloody man was laughing at her again. Arrogant bastard! “Or I’ll be forced to report your behavior to Daniel Meyers.”
“What do you expect his reaction to be?” the prince drawled.
Stazzi drew in a deep breath at his arrogant confidence. “Daniel has an unwritten rule. The staff don’t fraternize with any of the guests, but equally, the guests don’t attempt to seduce any member of his staff.”
“I assure you, Adrian and Grant hold no interest for me whatsoever—”
“You think this is funny?” Her eyes were wide and accusing. “You think you can come here, trample all over everyone else’s feelings, take what you want, and then leave, because you’re a prince?”
“An arrogant pain-in-the-fucking-ass prince.”
Her lids narrowed as he once again quoted her email back at her. “You know what, I don’t give a damn whether you tell Daniel about my mistake earlier today or not. You are an arrogant pain-in-the-fucking-ass prince, I’m even more convinced of that now I’ve actually met you.”
This evening had not gone at all as Alexandre had wished it to. He had imagined meeting Anastazia, inviting her to have dinner with him, the two of them getting to know each other as they ate together, followed by a seduction. His attraction to Anastazia in her photograph had been immediate, so strong and all-consuming, it hadn’t occurred to him to question whether or not she would, or was free, to return that attraction. Except, he reminded himself again, an imminent engagement was not marriage.
And either he was sadly out of practice in the seduction of a woman he desired, or he really had become the arrogant bastard she was accusing him of being for simply having assumed the attraction would be mutual.
Except it is.
He hadn’t imagined Anastazia’s response to him just now, or her arousal.
A response and arousal she obviously regretted.
Because she was going to marry another man.
She has no right to even think of marrying another man when she responds so heatedly to me.
Maybe not, but that wasn’t for Alexandre to decide, when he had nothing but here and now to offer her.
His ministers on Androcco had recently begun to make serious noises about it being time for him to marry and produce his future heir. They had even put together a list of foreign princesses and other suitable female members of royal families around the world, and presented it to him at their last meeting, with notations as to which of them was the most suitable.
Anastazia Carmichael’s name would never appear on such a list.
Alexandre may have had his wild years, the parties, the women in his bed, but underneath all that, he had always known what his duty was as heir to his father, to Androcco. His future wife would be chosen carefully, the marriage for political reasons, or otherwise beneficial to Androcco in some way, as had been his parents’ marriage, and his grandparents before them. Love was for a mistress, not a wife.
He doubted someone as fiercely independent and outspoken as Anastazia would ever agree to take such a subservient role t
o his official wife.
Nor would he ever insult her by suggesting she did.
He straightened. “You’re right, my behavior this evening has been unacceptable. I apologize.”
She blinked. “You do?”
He gave the ghost of a smile. “I do.”
She stared up at him uncertainly for several long seconds, obviously unsure as to whether or not he was mocking her. “Good, then.” She finally nodded acceptance of his apology, her gaze no longer meeting his. “Adrian will be on duty tonight. If you need anything, just ring extension one on the hotel telephone. Grant will take over at eight o’clock tomorrow morning.”
“And you?”
“I will be back on duty at eight thirty in the morning.”
Alexandre’s mouth tightened. “An engaged woman.”
Her chin rose defensively. “Yes.”
“Your fiancé is a lucky man.”
She gave him another suspicious glance before answering. “I think so, yes. I wish you a good night, Your Highness.”
“Anastazia,” he returned gruffly.
Stazzi turned sharply on her heel and marched across the room, anxious to get away now. Desperate to try to get her thoughts in order. To rationalize her response to His Highness Prince Alexandre Sylvain Claude St Sebastien.
But something drew on her, pulled inside her, daring her to glance back at him when she reached the doorway. Half of her expected him to be watching her departure; the other half hoped he wasn’t.
He was.
The lighting in the room was such that she couldn’t read the emotion in those glittering green eyes, but she saw something else. Something unexpected.
A man alone.
Not just alone, but lonely?
For the first time, it occurred to her that being the absolute ruler of his own island couldn’t be all champagne and roses. Alexandre’s parents were both dead, and he had no siblings. Gerard St Sebastien was the only close family he had left. And wasn’t he just a barrel of laughs!
There was no one, at the end of a long day, for Alexandre to just sit down and talk with, eat a companionable dinner with, go to bed with.
Oh, come on, Prince Alexandre of Androcco isn’t alone or lonely. No doubt once I’ve gone, he’ll get out his little black book and give one of the women in it a call and invite her to come and spend the night with him.
Whereas Stazzi desperately needed to leave here, to get some perspective back into her life.
And forget all about princes from sun-warmed Mediterranean islands who said they wanted her…
Chapter 4
“I never liked him anyway.”
“What?” Stazzi stared bleary-eyed at Lissa as the two of them sat opposite each other at the breakfast bar in their apartment the following morning.
Lissa was eating her toast with obvious enjoyment, while Stazzi nursed a cup of black coffee. The thought of eating anything made her feel nauseated.
“Will,” Lissa dismissed airily. “I never liked him, or the way he sometimes looked at the two of us as if we’re from another planet, just because we share the same sense of humor and laugh at ridiculous things. Judgmental prick,” she added with feeling.
Stazzi slowly put down her coffee mug. “I never noticed that…”
Her friend grimaced. “Well, you wouldn’t, because you were too busy hoping that he was ‘the one.’ Oh, I’ll grant you that on the surface, Will had it all. Handsome. Charming. A lawyer. Owns his own house. Understated but expensive car. No scary mother-in-law to cope with, only an elderly father.”
“I like his father.”
Lissa snorted. “I’m sure he liked your father too.”
Stazzi frowned. “Are you saying Daddy, who he is, was the reason Will went out with me?”
“Not the only reason, no.” Lissa smiled ruefully. “You’re gorgeous, let’s face it.”
“Thanks…I think.”
“Your parents don’t like him, you know.”
Stazzi’s eyes widened. “Did they tell you that?”
“Maybe,” Lissa admitted with reluctance.
“Why didn’t they tell me?”
“Because you’re their only child, and they would never deliberately hurt you.” Lissa shook her head. “But the fact your father is an impoverished duke rather than a rich one, and that even the title will eventually go to some obscure male relative, will have been deciding factors for someone like Will. He wants money to go with the prestige.”
“I can’t believe I missed all this about him.”
Lissa sighed. “Believe me, Stazzi, you may not think so now, but you’re better off without him. He has such an inflated opinion of himself. You would have had to take a subservient role all the time if you’d married him. In Will Granger’s opinion, only Will Granger matters.”
“Why have you never said any of this before?” She felt slightly punch-drunk, completely dazed by Lissa’s blunt insights into the man Stazzi had thought she was going to marry.
Had thought.
Because that was no longer going to happen.
She’d called Will as soon as she left the hotel the night before, needing to be with him after that encounter with Prince Alexandre. Will had suggested the two of them meet for a late-night coffee.
Turned out that the conversation Will wanted to have with her wasn’t a marriage proposal at all, but the ending of their six-month relationship.
His reasons?
Because she was, to quote Will “too caught up in your job to give me and our relationship the time it deserves.” And “after careful consideration, you aren’t a suitable wife for a man who is being made junior partner of the firm.” Last, but certainly not least, he had told her there was someone else. When Stazzi asked who, Will had admitted he had been dating the daughter of the senior partner for several weeks now. The daughter of the very wealthy senior partner. Which would seem to confirm Lissa’s opinion of Will requiring a wealthy father-in-law and not just a titled one.
It had been that last admission, the knowing that Will had been seeing someone else while still stringing her along, that had been the blow that killed every last vestige of feeling Stazzi had ever believed she felt for him.
As well as making me regret turning down Prince Alexandre.
“You seemed so set on him.” Lissa reached across the table and squeezed Stazzi’s hand. “I didn’t want to burst your bubble with my niggling doubts.” She straightened. “Besides, I could have been wrong about him. With my record for choosing the wrong man, I’m not the best person in the world to give an opinion on any of them.” She always wore her heart on her sleeve, and inevitably had it broken. “The fact we now know the bastard was deceiving you with the daughter of the senior partner of Barrett, Barrett, and Palmer just confirms every bad thing I ever thought about him.”
Lissa had already been in bed and asleep in her room when Stazzi came home the night before, still in shock from that conversation with Will. But Stazzi hadn’t cried when he told her those things. She had more pride than that. The tears had come later, once she was alone in her bedroom.
Which was the reason she felt heavy eyed and lethargic this morning.
“I’m so sorry I was actually right this time. Will isn’t worth another minute of your time, love.” Lissa smiled at her sympathetically.
No. No, he really wasn’t.
It was her dreams for the future she mourned the most, Stazzi realized sadly. The husband, house in the suburbs, children playing on the swing set in the neatly trimmed and pruned garden. All things she had imagined with Will. All gone now.
“Now tell me what happened last night with your gorgeous Mediterranean prince?” Lissa sat forward in anticipation.
Stazzi felt the blush warm her cheeks from merely thinking about Alexandre St Sebastien, and the way he had kissed her the night before. And her response to those kisses.
Realizing if it had happened just one day later, and feeling as empty and uncertain as she did now, she might not
have said no to him…
“How are you today, Anastazia?”
Stazzi almost knocked over the vase of fresh flowers she was arranging in the sitting room of the penthouse suite—as per Gerard St Sebastien’s instruction—at hearing the sound of Alexandre’s voice just behind her.
She turned, eyes accusing. “I really wish you wouldn’t creep up on me like that.”
He raised one dark eyebrow. “I wasn’t aware of doing so.”
She was overreacting, Stazzi acknowledged. Being rude again to one of the hotel’s VIP guests. The VIP guest. And it wasn’t Alexandre’s fault she was so tired and jumpy this morning.
She gave a heavy sigh. “I apologize. I was concentrating on what I was doing and didn’t hear you.”
She had been thinking about Will and trying to stop the tears from falling. But she knew Lissa was right and Will simply wasn’t worth the tears she had shed. He was ruthless and calculating, was dating the daughter of the senior partner at the firm where he worked, Stazzi now believed, in order to advance his career as much as anything else. None of which prevented Stazzi’s feelings of humiliation.
She winced as she recalled shopping for a new dress for her special date, her excitement yesterday, and her expectations. All dashed to hell by a man she now realized was a calculating and pompous prick, who had used her and then dropped her when a better prospect came along. The rich and prestigious Stephen Barrett would make a much better father-in-law than her own father, an impoverished duke whose estate was falling down about his ears.
“We seem to feel the need to apologize to each other quite often,” Alexandre observed.
She grimaced. “I know. But please believe my own apology just now was sincere. It’s no excuse that I was distracted and didn’t hear you come in.”
Alexandre studied the pallor of Anastazia’s cheeks. The dark shadows under those beautiful blue eyes that remained fixed on his clean-shaven chin, rather than met his searching gaze. He glanced down at her left hand. Still no ring.
Dare he hope…?
Hope what? That Anastazia wasn’t engaged to another man after all? What difference would it make if that were true?
Alexandre had taken a long hard look at himself and his life after she left him the previous night. He was a ruling prince, and the expectation politically was that he would take an equally royal wife and produce doubly royal children. Desire, even love, were not luxuries a ruling prince could afford.
Resisting Alexandre (Knight Security 0.5) Page 3