by Dani Collins
‘Be assured. You don’t.’
His smile disappeared, but she suspected he was still amused by her. The thought created a joyous fizz in her blood. It struck her that this man, whoever he was, hadn’t smiled or laughed in a long time. The urgent need to catch another glimpse of that enigmatic smile grew.
‘Great. Living to a thousand sounds like fun, but I bet it becomes a nuisance after that. A few more decades will do me just fine, though. I have things to do, people to impress.’
Joy sang in her chest when he rewarded her with another fleeting smile.
‘I have no doubt that you will make your mark on the world before you leave it.’ His head dipped in a shallow bow. ‘Enjoy the rest of your evening, Jasmine.’ With graceful, long-limbed strides, he walked away from her.
His abrupt departure stunned her into stillness. She watched four figures detach themselves from the shadowed doorway and fall into step behind him. She didn’t need to be told they were bodyguards.
And rightly so. He was far too lethal to walk around without armed escort.
It wasn’t until he reached the bottom of the stairs that led into the main hall that she regained the power of speech.
‘Holy hotness, Batman,’ she muttered under her breath, still more than a little stunned.
Watching him cut a path through the assembled crowd, Jasmine realised she hadn’t even asked his name. Without pausing to think, she dashed through the doors after him.
She came to a screeching halt after a few steps.
What was she doing? She hadn’t come to Rio to check out its male citizens, or to fall flat on her face for the first enigmatic man who looked at her with deep, hypnotically solemn eyes.
The real reason wrenched her back to reality, making any dream she harboured glaringly impossible. Whoever the mysterious, formidable stranger was, he had nothing to do with her mission here.
A mission that should’ve been the one and only thing on her mind.
She slid her wrap closer to ward off the sudden chill invading her body.
How could she have lost sight of her objective so quickly? Her stepfather’s well-being depended on her. Running after a man who’d made her feel so alive, so special that she would have given up all she held dear to spend another minute in his presence was out of the question.
She clutched her grey silk purse and tried to think clearly, but it was no use. His smell, the feel of his hand on her skin, the intensity of his dark gaze that seemed to see past the outer trappings of civilised conversation to her inner self, remained imprinted on her.
Her breath rushed out shakily. She tried to tell herself what she’d felt didn’t matter. That wasn’t her purpose here. The only thing that mattered was finding Prince Reyes, getting her hands on the treaty and making it out of here in one piece. By way of grounding herself, she recited the list once more and forced herself to move into the hall as she did so.
The first thing she noticed was that the man she’d been speaking to was now on the other side of the room. Similarly suited men surrounded him, yet he remained curiously aloof, standing out so spectacularly, everyone else faded into insignificance.
Forcing her gaze away, she looked around. In halting Portuguese, she tried to enquire discreetly from her waiter which of the men was Prince Reyes, but her query only drew a blank stare.
Her anxiety returned when she realised most of the conversation going on around her was in Portuguese. Naïvely, she’d assumed since most of the staff at her hotel spoke English, everyone in Rio did too.
But the man who’d spoken to her on the terrace had used perfect English.
So ask him.
Except she couldn’t. She’d have to cross the room to get to him, and in the time she’d been dithering his audience had tripled.
Insinuating herself into his crowd would only draw attention to herself. And for what she’d come here to do, anonymity was key. Wishing she’d pressed Joaquin Esteban for more details about the prince, she cast another look around.
A bell sounded nearby, making her jump. Guests started taking their places at the long banquet table. She found her place and had just sat down when a light-haired man joined her.
He looked at her hopefully. ‘Please tell me you speak English?’
Jasmine smiled with relief. ‘Yes, I do.’
‘Thank God! You think your Portuguese is all right until someone asks you a question. Then even the little you know flies straight out of your head. I’m Josh, by the way.’
‘Jasmine,’ she responded.
‘Crazy, isn’t it?’
Startled, Jasmine glanced sideways to him. ‘Sorry?’
He nodded to the group of men taking their seats at the far end of the long banquet table. ‘Unbelievable that between the two of them, those men control nearly half of the steel and precious gems in the world.’
Unwilling to disclose her ignorance, she murmured, ‘Right.’
‘Shame their trade relations are in a shambles, though. Hopefully once the treaty is signed, there should be some semblance of order, otherwise the chaos will only get worse.’ He shook his head. ‘Prince Reyes has done an outstanding job of bringing the treaty to fruition, though. Have to commend him on that.’ He took a healthy gulp of champagne.
Sneaking in a breath to calm her screeching nerves, she casually asked, ‘Which one is Prince Reyes?’
He looked puzzled for a second, then he shrugged. ‘I understand how you might be confused. They’re descended from the same bloodline, after all.’ He nodded to the men. ‘Mendez, the shorter one who rocked up in the speedboat, is the birthday boy celebrating the big four-oh. He’s in charge of Valderra, the larger of the two kingdoms. The taller one at the head of the table, talking to the prime minster, is Reyes. Don’t get me wrong, his might be the smaller of the kingdoms, but Santo Sierra is definitely the big kahuna.’
Jasmine’s throat threatened to close up as she absorbed the information. Her fingers clenched around her cutlery as ice drenched her blood.
The lights went up just then and two officious-looking men stepped up to the twin podiums carrying black briefcases. Heart in her throat, she realised what she’d done.
She’d been speaking to Prince Reyes Navarre all along!
And she’d told him her name!
After a short speech, the first stage of the treaty signing was completed. Jasmine watched as the documents were placed back in the briefcases.
Clammy sweat soaked her palms. Carefully, she set down her knife and fork. Every instinct told her to get up. Run. Not stop until she was on the next plane back to London.
But how could she? Even if she sold her two-bedroom East London flat and somehow found the balance to pay the half a million pounds owed to Joaquin, the loan shark still possessed enough documentary evidence to bury her stepfather.
Jasmine’s heart lurched at the thought. Her family was far from perfect, but Stephen Nichols had single-handedly ensured she and her mother had been given a much-needed second chance. There was no way Jasmine was going to turn her back on him now.
Nervously, she swallowed the moisture in her mouth. ‘You mean, Prince Reyes is the tall one...’ with the impossibly broad shoulders, sad eyes and expressive, elegant hands, she nearly blurted out.
‘Looking our way right now,’ her table companion muttered, a vein of surprise trailing his voice.
Her head jerked up and slate-grey eyes locked on hers. Even from the length of the banquet table, the stranger from the terrace loomed larger than life, his stare unwavering.
Except he wasn’t an intriguing stranger any more.
He was the man she’d come to steal from.
Copyright © 2015 by Maya Blake
ISBN-13: 9781460381946
Seduced into the Greek’s World
Copyright © 2015 by Dani Collins
All rights reserved. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book
on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
® and ™ are trademarks of the publisher. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Intellectual Property Office and in other countries.
www.Harlequin.com