Lessons in Seduction

by Sandra Hyatt

  But the journalist wasn’t about to let it go at that. “How would you characterize your relationship with the prince?” She called out her question, not waiting to be asked.

  Danni paused, needing to shut this down and move on. She was about to issue a categorical denial—after all what she and Adam had was over, it had to be—when she looked up and saw a solid, dark-suited man standing at the back of the room. Wrightson, one of the palace drivers. What was he doing here? He gave his close-cropped head the smallest of shakes.

  No? No, what? Don’t deny it? Do deny it?

  Danni took a deep breath and looked back at the woman. “How would I characterize my relationship with the prince? To you, very carefully. And that’s all I have to say on the subject.”

  A murmur of laughter spread through the room. The motorsport journalists were no more pleased about the presence of tabloid reporters than she had been. Imposters in their ranks. Though undoubtedly many if not all of them were scenting new angles for their stories, angles that might sell more papers or subscriptions or ad space on websites. They might not all like it but they knew what paid their wages. She just had to keep the focus where she wanted it. “Now let’s move on. Robert?” Robert Dubrawski, a newscaster with a background in finance, would be wanting information on the economic impact of a Grand Prix.

  Through a mix of firmness and humor, she kept the rest of the briefing relatively on track. And when the allotted time was up, she took a back exit from the room and into the side streets walking quickly, wanting to put distance between her and impending disaster.

  She knew a quiet little restaurant in the old part of the city. She could get a corner table and figure out what was happening and what she needed to do about it. She was hurrying toward the restaurant when a sleek dark Jaguar pulled alongside her, slowing to a stop.

  The window slid down to reveal Wrightson behind the wheel. “Prince Adam wondered if you could spare some time to meet with him?”

  Only if Prince Adam could wind back time itself and stop this from happening. She was about to refuse when she heard her name called out. The reporter from the briefing and a photographer were running up the street toward her.

  Danni hopped into the car.

  The breaking of their story changed everything.

  They had to come up with a joint strategy, an excuse for why they’d been seen together. And doubtless, if they needed it, Adam would have the very best PR advisers at his service.

  She switched on her phone, found a message from Adam asking her to call him and another more recent message from the receptionist at work advising her not to come back after the briefing because photographers were swarming the building.

  Danni didn’t speak as the car rumbled over the cobbled streets, crossed an arching bridge and headed sedately for the palace. She did her best to tamp down the anticipation that seeing Adam inevitably stirred. Fifteen minutes later they drew up outside Adam’s wing. Before the car had quite come to a stop, Danni opened her door and got out. As she looked around, unsure of what to do, the door to Adam’s wing opened and he strode out.

  And despite all her resolutions, her determination that everything had to be over between them and her annoyance that what should have been private had been made public, her heart leaped at the sight of him. So confident, so intense. The concern in his eyes for her.

  He strode toward her and caught her shoulders. “You’re okay?”

  She nodded.

  “I’m sorry about the press.” Regret and anger tinged his voice. If the press had wind of their story, there were only two ways it could go. They’d revile her for stopping him from finding a suitable woman or they’d expect him to confirm it was serious with Danni.

  He wouldn’t accept either of those outcomes. He understood his duty.

  “It’s not your fault.”

  He pushed a lock of hair behind her ear. “Actually it is. It’s because of me they’re interested in you. I never wanted them to get to you.” Along with the regret and anger she recognized resignation in his voice, his eyes.

  He knew, finally, that what they’d shared had to be over.

  Even with all her attempts to convince him of that simple truth, his acceptance of it opened up an emptiness inside her that filled with a great welling sorrow.

  “As soon as my secretary told me there were pictures, I tried to get word to you. Your phone was off.”

  “I’d put it to voice mail.”

  “I know. So I sent Wrightson. I would have gone myself but…”

  “Fuel to the fire. I get it. Thanks for trying though.”

  “I’d have stopped it if I could.”

  “I know. But you can’t and so we need a strategy. Is it too late to say there was never anything between us?”

  “They have photos of us skiing and photos of us leaving the palace grounds together. The skiing ones have only just come to light. But combined with the others…”

  “Can they be explained any other way?”

  He lifted a shoulder. “They could be.”

  “Then let’s—”

  “It’s best to be honest.” He brushed his knuckles across her cheek. “At first you were labeled a mystery woman. Unfortunately, but not surprisingly, it didn’t take them long to figure out who you were.”

  “No. It wouldn’t have.” She thought of the reporters’ tenacious questions.

  “I heard you handled the press well.”

  “I managed. I think. The questions caught me by surprise. I was about to deny any relationship when Wrightson shook his head.”

  “Like I said, it’s best to stick to the truth. It always comes out eventually.”

  “If we have to stick to the truth,” she said, “we tell them we had a weekend together but that it was a mistake.”

  “I don’t make mistakes. And you definitely weren’t one.”

  “Then we tell them that it…didn’t work out.”

  “Seemed to me that it worked pretty well.”

  “It did.” For that one isolated weekend.

  “So have you come up with a way to handle the publicity?”

  “I’ve spoken to the palace advisers.”

  “And?”

  “I also spoke to my father and to Rafe.”

  “Oh.” Of course it was inevitable that his father and brother would find out and have an opinion. She shouldn’t be surprised or dismayed. “What did they say?” She held up her hand. “No, wait. Don’t tell me. I know what they said.” Adam had needed to hear their views, but she didn’t. It was surely them who’d finally convinced Adam that there could be no relationship with her. She should be grateful for that. “What’s the strategy.”

  “As unoriginal as it is, ‘No comment’ seems to be the preferred strategy. That combined with no further contact between us. When there’s no fuel, the fire soon dies out.”

  His gaze searched her face and he shook his head. “I’ve missed you.” He pulled her to him. Acting on pure conditioned response, she rose up for his kiss and welcomed the touch of his lips to hers.

  How could this be over when he kissed her like that?

  How could she walk away from him?

  His kiss, as always, sent sensations spiraling through her, weakening her legs, trampling over rational thought. That was why she was having such trouble walking away from him, she thought with a half laugh—weak legs.

  She’d been too long without him.

  He was her addiction.

  As her hands, of their own volition, slipped around his waist, he pulled her closer still. Enveloped her in his warmth. Warmth that turned rapidly to heat.

  Once more, a voice whispered.

  Once more before it was over.

  “Can you do one thing for me?” she asked.

  “I’d do anything for you.”

  “Make love to me once more.” She would take this and then nothing more.

  He pulled back. She read the hesitation in his eyes and then his capitulation. He caught her ha
nd in his again and strode wordlessly for the palace. He hurried up to the second level, past the library and along a hallway hung with portraits. The next door they passed through led into a bedroom. Unmistakably masculine.

  Her gaze took in the room. He hadn’t been lying when he’d said he had a big bed. There’d be room to turn cartwheels across it. Or make love lying any which way across it. She could turn cartwheels but she’d much rather make love.

  A lock clicked into place as Adam pushed the door shut behind him. For one long delirious second they looked at each other. Awareness and unbearable hunger hummed in the air between them. Then he tugged on the hand he still held and she went to him. With no thought of talking she reached for him, undoing buttons and belts and zips, finding her way inside his clothes, needing skin on skin contact, the male heat of him, her addiction needing to be fed. One last fix. This close she could breathe in the intoxicating scent that was his alone. The one that called every cell in her body to attention. And the touch of him, the warmth that spread through her, were enough to reassure her that satisfaction was close at hand. Her craving would be satisfied.

  Her only consolation for her senseless weakness for him was that he seemed as desperate as she was—lost to the haze of desire. Tugging and pulling at her clothes, with none of his legendary finesse. He eased her back onto his bed and lay down over her.

  All the world narrowed to this one moment, this one man. All her thoughts, every sensation was centered on him and what he gave her.

  He rose up, his broad shoulders and corded neck straining. Ready for him, needing him, she arched against him. He accepted her body’s plea and in one long stroke drove in deep and fast, filling her so that her “yes” came out as a low satisfied moan, mingling with a similar inarticulate sound from him.

  So good.

  He felt so good. So right. So perfect.

  And then he was moving within her, slowly at first but she didn’t want slow and he responded to her needs, driving in harder and deeper and she reached for his hips, clasping the bunching muscles, moving with his rhythm, pulling him still harder and deeper, her legs around his back. Because she needed this. She needed him.

  They strove together, swirling into the same vortex of wanting, racing for a release that demanded completion. Sensation, like licks of fire, swept through her, curling her toes, setting her aflame for this, for him, carrying them to that other mindless place till sensation couldn’t be contained and the power of it surged through them as it crested and shattered.

  Leaving her shaken and spent.

  He held her in his arms as their breathing slowed and minds and bodies adjusted to the fact that they were no longer one. Aftershocks rippled through her as sweat cooled on her skin.

  “Funny,” he said later as he pushed a lock of hair from her face. “Whenever I dreamed about making love to you here in this bed, I imagined it to be slow and exquisite. I thought we’d take hours.”

  The awareness of Adam losing his ever-present restraint with her, thrilled and humbled her. “At least you got the exquisite part right.”

  His arm tightened around her. “And maybe we could try…”

  She didn’t know where she would find the strength to walk away from him because she hadn’t known, hadn’t let herself believe, that they could be this good together. That she could want more than his body or to give him more than hers. That he could make such a deep impression on her heart.

  No, not an impression, he owned it. All of it.

  The heart in question sank with the dawning awareness.

  Love.

  She’d fallen in love with Adam.

  He was like no other man she’d ever known. She loved his seriousness, his complexity, his kindness. She loved him and everything about him.

  A man she couldn’t have. The irony was that he was the one person she wanted to share the appalling realization with. The Adam who was her friend as well as her lover in whose arms she now lay. The Adam who understood her, who always had.

  But she couldn’t admit her love. All it would do would be to make him feel guilty. He’d never asked for her love. She’d been an interlude in his search for a wife.

  Maybe she should just be grateful that they’d taken as much as they had. More than they should have been allowed.

  It was hard to be grateful when her heart was breaking.

  She sought the temporary solace of making love with him again.

  A long time afterward, a long slow exquisite time afterward, she rolled out of his bed.

  Love wasn’t supposed to hurt like this.

  She found strength along with her clothes.

  It wasn’t till she was dressed that she turned back to Adam to find him watching her. Those now serious eyes had been fierce with fire and passion. For her.

  This was it. The end. They both recognized it.

  She turned away from those beautiful brown eyes and crossed to the window. Seconds later she saw his reflection in the glass. He’d come to stand behind her. Outside, darkness was falling. Her life had once been so uncomplicated. She leaned her forehead on the window.

  Fifteen minutes later they sat in a nondescript sedan belonging to the palace’s head of security. “I did your one last thing. Will you do one for me? Will you let me show you something?” He’d asked and she’d agreed. How could she refuse him? They skirted the city, crossed the river and several blocks later turned into an industrial area on the outskirts of the city filled with warehouses and light manufacturing. “Where are we going?”

  “You told me once there were rumors that I had a mystery woman.”

  “Yes. And you laughed.”

  “You’ll see why soon. We’re almost there.”

  At the entrance to a light industrial complex, he pressed a code into a keypad that opened an enormous gate. Inside, he drove slowly past a series of closed roller doors, finally stopping in front of one. He pressed a button on his key chain and one of the doors slowly rose. He looked at her. “I haven’t shown this to anyone before.”

  “You don’t have to show it to me now.” She almost didn’t want him to. She had no idea what was behind that door, only that it was deeply personal to him.

  “I want to.” He drove into the dim interior. Danni instantly recognized a workshop, tools neatly lining the walls, and saw straight away the shape of a low, covered car. They parked alongside it and the door closed behind them.

  She looked from him to the covered car. “Why would you keep a car out here when you have all that space at the palace?”

  “This is private. It’s nothing to do with the palace or being a prince. It’s my escape from both of those things. Through that door over there—” he pointed to a wall “—are stairs to the top level. I had it converted to an apartment, just a bedroom and a bathroom. It’s utterly private.”

  He tilted his head toward the shrouded car. “Let me show her to you. My mystery woman.” They approached the car and he peeled back the cover. Her first glimpse of gleaming wheel spokes confirmed what she’d suspected as soon as she’d seen the shape of the low-slung car. “Dad’s Bugatti. You’re the collector?” She looked from the car, its engine exposed, to him. “How is that possible?”

  “Your father did so much for me for so many years. Especially after my mother died. I wanted to do something for him in return. I knew he was selling the car at least in part for your college fees and that he’d never accept outright financial help. So I bought it through an intermediary. Don’t get me wrong, it wasn’t truly altruistic, having the car to work on has given me peace and much pleasure over the years.”

  “Dad doesn’t know?”

  Adam shook his head. “I wanted to finish it and then give it back to him. It’s nearly ready. I steal an hour here and there.”

  Danni touched his face—her fingertips to his beautiful strong jaw. “That’s a lovely thing you’re doing.”

  He opened the nearest door. “Hop in.”

  Danni let him hand her into the car.
Into the driver’s seat. He took shotgun. “Do you remember—” she began.

  “Yes. And I’m embarrassed about it.”

  “You said a girl couldn’t drive it. That girls weren’t good drivers.”

  “Thanks for reminding me. Did I ever apologize for that?”

  “Not as such. But you let me drive for you. I figured that meant something.”

  “It did. And if it will mean something to you now you can drive the Bugatti. The detailing isn’t finished but it runs like a dream.”

  Half an hour later they were parked on top of a hill looking back over the lights of the city gleaming like diamonds strewn across the night. A full moon hung partially obscured in the sky.

  “I could sit like this with you forever.” Adam’s low voice reached across the darkness between them.

  Danni looked away and surreptitiously wiped a tear from her cheek. She tried to swallow the ache in her jaw.

  “I hope you find a good man, Danni.”

  She turned to him. “Would you be insulted if I wished you success in your search for a suitable wife?”

  “To my core.”

  “So, don’t…”

  “I won’t.” He reached for her hand, held it with a clasp more fierce than gentle. “But I want you to be happy.”

  “And I want the same for you.”

  He tipped his head back and closed his eyes. He opened them again and looked at her with that intensity that was unique to him. “You know that if I didn’t love you as much as I do, I’d ask you to marry me.”

  “You love me?” The words reverberated within her, filling her with joy and sorrow, her greatest wish and her greatest fear.

  “With all my heart. I don’t know when or how it started. And I don’t know how to stop. You can’t possibly know how vital you are to me. But I couldn’t ask you to share a life that would make you miserable. Rafe made me see that.”