Seduced by the Prince

by Cristina Grenier

  Peter’s eyes twinkled as he watched her walk over to the bowl of fruit on the table in what she assumed was the breakfast nook. She snagged an orange and began to peel it, hitching her hip against one of the high stools that surrounded the bar-topped table.

  “It has been a pleasure serving you, madam,” he said, “and it is no trouble at all. You are a very undemanding guest.”

  “Up until now, I have been a very sick guest,” she answered, chuckling, before sliding a wedge of the sweet fruit into her mouth. “I was in no position to demand much of anything, was I?”

  “As you say, madam, you were very ill when I brought you here.”

  “Why are you so formal in your speech, Peter?” Tina’s curiosity was piqued. “Does the ambassador require it?”

  Peter’s left brow rose almost imperceptibly. “The…ambassador doesn’t require it in informal situations, but I find it easier to retain the protocol at all times.”

  Tina had not missed the hesitation in his words when he first began to speak, and she wondered what had caused it. Still, she understood the impulse that made him address her formally, despite her having given him permission not to do so. She liked the old school vibe that he exuded and she appreciated his honesty.

  “I suppose you’re right. It must save you having to remember people’s names.”

  A small smile accompanied the eyebrow lift this time, but he didn’t reply to her statement. Instead, he said, “Dinner will be in another couple of hours. His…the ambassador has asked me to see to your comfort while he is occupied. I took the liberty of preparing fresh broth for you. Would you like a cup of that as well?”

  “I wouldn’t want to spoil my dinner,” she said, hesitating. She wasn’t sure how much she would be able to eat if she had too large a snack now. The last thing she wanted to do was insult Max or Peter by being unable to enjoy the meal they provided.

  “I can assure you, madam, that a cup of broth will have no long-lasting effect on your appetite.” Peter sounded amused, and she smiled in response to his tone.

  “Okay. Just a cup would be nice, thank you.”

  She shivered suddenly, as though her body was reminding her that she was still a little under the weather. While she finished the orange, Peter warmed the broth in the microwave and brought it over to her. He had placed it in a bright orange bowl, which he set with a soup spoon on a napkin on the linen place mat where she had by now taken a seat.

  “Enjoy, madam,” he said, and then left her to return to his dinner prep.

  The scent of the broth made her mouth water, and she picked up the spoon, eager to have a taste. She knew she had had some of it before, but she couldn’t remember tasting it. She blew on the liquid before taking her first sip. It was delicious, light and yet somehow satisfying.

  “This is really very good, Peter,” she said, halfway through. “I may have to ask for seconds.”

  This time, the man laughed gently. “I am happy to hear it, madam. Just let me know when you’re ready for it.”

  Tina wanted to refuse. After all, she had seen where he had taken her first serving from. She could just as easily help herself, but she knew he would object. And anyway, although it was a big kitchen, Peter might be the kind of person who disliked others in his space when he was cooking. She bit her tongue and asked for a little more when she had emptied the bowl. The second helping was just as delicious as the first, and she laughed at herself for thinking it would be any different.

  “Where shall I put the bowl and spoon, Peter?” she asked when she was done. At the very least she could put it in the dishwasher.

  Peter must have seen her determination to help in some way, because he gestured to the dishwasher which she hadn’t noticed before because it looked like just another cupboard. After she put the bowl and spoon in, she excused herself, thanking him again for her snack. She would get some writing done before dinner, so she’d have more time to spend with Max. Assuming he meant it when he said he would see her later. There was really no way to know, and she told herself sternly to forget about Max. Working on her latest story would help.

  Making her way back up to her room, Tina thought she caught a whiff of Max’s cologne, and she hurried up the last few steps to avoid meeting him. It was worth feeling like an idiot if she could keep the promise she had made to herself as she drove away from John’s fancy hotel suite two days earlier. She was done with men until she could figure them out better…or perhaps until she could figure herself out. Either way, allowing her attraction for Max to grow was more foolish than running away from him on the stairs.

  She worked doggedly for the next hour, managing to finish one chapter and start a new one before she had to stop to take a break. Maybe sitting on the edge of the bed with the laptop propped on her knees wasn’t the best writing position. She slid it onto the bed and stood up, stretching her spine, as she walked to the French doors and pulled the drapes aside. The snow had stopped again, but the sky was growing darker as the sun set. It was so peaceful that Tina could almost hear her own heart beating. She did hear the sound of a motor and wondered who was out and about. Maybe it was Max on a snowmobile…he had said he was into outdoor winter activities. Just thinking about him brought a warmth to her that she couldn't account for. She had only known him two days, and for half that time she had been out of it. So why was she so aware of him, so interested in him, so drawn to him?

  As if she had conjured him with her thoughts, Max called out to her as he knocked on her door.

  “Tina? Are you awake?”

  “Yes, come in,” she said, turning away from the view to watch him enter.

  He was wearing sweats and a t-shirt, and Tina almost swallowed her tongue at the sexy display. Was he always this relaxed around women he didn’t know? Not that she was complaining, but it seemed somehow odd that a man of his power and influence would allow himself to be seen dressed so casually. The sheen of sweat was on his brow, and his shirt clung to his broad chest and muscled abs. He must have felt the weight of her gaze because he said, quickly,

  “I apologize for the state of my attire. I would not normally approach you looking like this, but Peter asked me to make sure you were awake, because dinner will be ready in twenty minutes.”

  Although Max was the one who was embarrassed, Tina found herself flushing. “Please, I’m sorry for staring. It’s not as though I’ve never seen a man in workout gear before. You don’t owe me an explanation.” Something in the way he looked at her caught her attention and she added, without thinking, “What?”

  He blinked, and whatever she had seen vanished. “Nothing. I’ll see you at dinner soon then.”

  He disappeared out the open door, leaving Tina to wonder what had just happened. Shaking her head, she decided to wear something a bit less causal than jeans. Pulling her suitcase out of the closet, she rummaged around until she found the black leather leggings she had brought with her for an evening out, and a long-sleeved yellow silk blouse she had brought to wear with it. This wasn't a date, but technically she was still on holiday, and she would enjoy it as much as she could before she had to return to real life. Dressing quickly, she slid her feet into low-heeled black suede mules, and spritzed herself lightly with perfume. She had put on only light makeup, opting for lip gloss rather than lipstick.

  When she opened her door, Max was standing there, his hand up ready to knock. His eyes widened as he took her in, and the slow smile that lit them made the heat rise in her cheeks. She wasn't so ignorant of men’s ways that she didn’t recognize desire when she saw it in their eyes. And it was clear that Max desired her. She ignored the little voice that told her that that was why she had dressed up for an evening in with a stranger. Shushing it, she smiled.

  “I’m ready.” She sniffed the air, and the scent of food made her mouth water. “And whatever Peter’s cooking, it smells delicious. I’m ready to eat.”

  She thought Max inhaled sharply, but she couldn’t be sure as she walked ahead of him down the
stairs and into the dining room, where places had been set for two.

  “Isn’t Peter going to eat with us?” she asked.

  Max smiled. “Peter’s excuse for not sharing my meals is that by the time he is done cooking, he has tasted everything and he’s full. But you can try to persuade him.”

  She wasn’t sure she was comfortable eating a meal alone with Max, no matter what Peter’s station in the household. Which reminded her…

  “Where are all your other men? Surely an ambassador has more than a cook for company when he travels? Where’s your bodyguard, for example? And your PA? Don’t ambassadors have one of those as well?”

  For the first time, Max seemed genuinely uncomfortable, and Tina wished she was not so curious about his life, that she had kept her questions to herself. She didn’t want to offend this man, who had taken her in out of a dangerous blizzard and helped her fight illness. She hurried to apologize, even as he seated her across from him at the big table.

  “I’m sorry. I know…it’s none of my business. I shouldn’t interfere.”

  Max took his own seat and spread his napkin over his lap before answering. “It’s not interfering if I have given you permission to speak. And there’s nothing to apologize for. Your questions are legitimate. I promise to explain once dinner is over.”

  The meal that followed was made even more enjoyable by the company. Max was entertaining, regaling Tina with stories of his childhood, and she had never laughed as much at dinner except when she was with friends. Peter had steadfastly refused to share the meal with them, but in the end, Tina was able to relax because the desire she had seen in Max’s eyes at her door earlier never re-appeared. He was charming and friendly and nothing more. She let down her guard and savored the richness of the meal. Although she still couldn’t eat much, she tasted a bit of everything. Once the roasted lamb with mint sauce, braised green beans, and baked potatoes with sour cream had been cleared away, Peter brought out a chocolate layer cake that made Tina’s mouth water.

  “You made this?” she asked incredulously. “You must have been in the kitchen all day.”

  Peter merely smiled and gave her a thin slice, as though he knew she couldn’t handle too much more. Handing a much larger one to his boss, he left the rest of the cake on the table and disappeared again. The dessert was light, the layers of cream smooth on her tongue, the frosting a buttery delight. Tina could not stop herself from humming in pleasure at the taste and texture of the dessert.

  “This is excellent. Really delicious. I’m going to have to get the recipe from Peter. I have never made or had cake this good.”

  Max reached for the coffee pot at his elbow and poured himself a cup. “Would you like some?” he asked, and when Tina nodded, he poured her one as well. “Cream? Sugar?”

  “Just cream, please.”

  He was doing it again, being the perfect gentleman. It struck her then that perhaps that was part of the reason that she found herself unable to eradicate the feelings of attraction she had for him. He was John Sampson’s polar opposite, in character and features, and it was a magnet to her. His sharp Adam’s apple that bobbed up and down each time he swallowed, his now neatly trimmed beard that emphasized his jawline, his long, patrician nose, his full lips…everything on his face appealed to her. Even the faint line of a scar that she was only just now noticing running from the top of his right ear down the side of his face to his top lip said this was a man with a story to tell. And Tina wanted to be the one he told it to.

  “Do I pass muster?”

  His quiet question startled her, and when it registered what he had asked, she blushed. She hadn’t meant to be caught staring, and now she would have to find an answer that would keep things platonic.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to stare,” she answered, not addressing his question. She ought to have known that he wouldn’t let it pass.

  “I’m used to being stared at,” he informed her, taking another sip of his coffee. “But you haven’t answered my question. Do I pass?”

  “There’s no test,” she hedged, “so there’s nothing to pass.”

  Max laughed, his shoulders shaking with his amusement. “Why are you so afraid to answer my question?” he wanted to know, setting his cup down quietly. “Do you find me unattractive? My ego will only be slightly bruised if you do. There’s no need to be careful of your reply.” He leaned forward, his hands clasped on the table in front of him. “Unless there is another reason that you are refusing to respond?”

  Tina gawped at him, remembering at the last second to close her mouth. She knew he found her reticence amusing, but she didn't think he would find her reason quite so entertaining. He didn’t seem like the kind of man who would take kindly to being unfavorably judged without a reason.

  “Perhaps I can help you overcome your reluctance to be honest with me.” His voice snapped her out of her musing. “I find you very attractive, Tina. More so than I was prepared for. Until you arrived, I was just a man enjoying a quiet holiday. Now I am a man in torment, because my role as your host forbids me from pursuing you in quite the way that a man pursues a woman in whom he has an interest.”

  Still speechless, and even more so after his admission, Tina gulped some of the thankfully no longer hot coffee, and swallowed convulsively, hunting around in her head for something to say in response. Her hands shook slightly as she replaced the cup in its saucer, and she clasped them tightly in her lap.

  “Um…yes, you pass.” Even to her own ears, the belated admission sounded ridiculously lame, but she couldn’t think of anything else to say that would be coherent at the moment.

  “How well? Barely, or with flying colors?”

  The smirk said it all. Now he was just teasing her, and while a part of her wanted to be mad at him, she found herself smiling, wanting to play the game with him.

  “Well, had you not spoiled it with the twenty questions, you would have had an A+,” she told him, lowering her gaze after a moment. “Hubris detracts from attractiveness.” Two could play that game.

  His brows arched. “Did my questions appear to be arrogant?”

  In for a penny, in for a pound. She had already said too much, perhaps, and maybe he was better at the game than she was. “They might be construed to be so,” she replied, diplomacy finally making an appearance in her words.

  He was quiet, and after a long, awkward moment, she looked up to find him staring at her. He held her gaze, refusing to let her look away.

  “Touché! You would make a very good diplomat,” he said. “But I do not wish for diplomacy between us. If we are to get to know each other better, we must be always honest. Agreed?”

  Tina nodded and drained her coffee cup. He rose from the table and came around to her side, pulling her chair out as she stood.

  “Thank you.” She turned away from him with a smile as Peter walked in. “And thank you for a really delicious meal, Peter. I know I didn’t eat a lot, but I enjoyed everything that I ate.”

  “I am pleased that you enjoyed it, madam,” Peter replied.

  Max led her through to the formal living room, where a fire had been lit, and she noticed that her blanket was draped over the back of the love seat closest to the fire.

  “Make yourself comfortable,” he invited her, and sat across from her, on the other side of the fireplace in a large armchair.

  Tina slid her feet out of her shoes and up under her on the seat, wrapping the blanket loosely around her. The heat from the fire helped to chase the chill away, and though she was feeling much better than she had been the day before, she knew she was still not a hundred percent over whatever the bug was that had laid her out. She wiggled her toes gratefully beneath the blanket and turned her eyes to the fire. Peter appeared a moment later with a tray on which sat a decanter and two glasses.

  “The wine you ordered, sir,” he said, placing the tray down on the coffee table. “Please let me know if there’s anything else you need.”

  “Thank you, Peter,�
�� Max said, smiling at the older man.

  Tina watched as Max poured a little wine into one of the glasses and stood up to hand it to her. “What do you think of this?” he asked.

  She took a tentative taste, and the fruity notes tickled her tongue. She smiled. “It’s delicious!”

  “Would you like a glass?”

  “Thank you.”

  After he handed her back the glass, he took his own drink and resumed his seat. Neither spoke for a few moments, and Tina enjoyed the warmth spreading through her as the combination of the heat from the fire and the effect of the wine washed over her. She relaxed her spine against the back of the seat, allowing the feeling of peace to steal over her. She thought the crackling wood in the fireplace was a kind of subtext for the crackling awareness she felt whenever she was in Max’s company, but for now, it was comfortable. Then Max’s words startled her.