by Annie West
Tamsin’s mind filled with an image of them matched in another way altogether. Tanned skin against pale. Hard masculine muscle against female softness.
Heat exploded, scalding her throat and face at the lurid, unfamiliar picture. Horrified, she ducked her head to fumble with her glasses case.
He couldn’t know what she was thinking.
That didn’t stop her embarrassment.
‘It’s kind of you to say so,’ she mumbled. ‘But we both know it would be an uneven match.’
She cast a furtive glance at his muscled arms and wished he’d cover himself up. It was hard not to stare.
‘You underestimate yourself, Dr Connors.’ His words sliced through her thoughts. ‘Why is that? You struck me as a very confident woman when we discussed your work.’
Confident? She’d talked too much last night as they’d visited the archives. Nerves and guilt about the risks she’d taken with his books in the library had made her overcompensate. Anxiety had made her garrulous.
‘That’s different.’ Reluctantly she lifted her chin and met his gaze. Even braced for the impact, the connection sent shock waves of pleasure racing through her. ‘I’ve worked hard to develop my expertise. My work is what I’m good at. What I love.’
Tamsin had buried herself in work for years. At first because immersing herself in books had been an escape in her lonely childhood. Then from habit, especially as a student, when her age had set her apart from older colleagues. More recently it had been easier to be a workaholic than cultivate a personal life. She shivered. Her one foray into romance had been disastrous.
She waved a hand at the court. ‘I lead a sedentary life. This is just a way to keep fit.’ And a welcome outlet for troubled emotions.
He tilted his head, his gaze shrewd. ‘Yet your focus was impressive. And your speed. You’d be a formidable opponent.’
The lazy approval was gone from his face, replaced by a seriousness that made her still.
Like last night Tamsin again had the suspicion he saw her: not just her academic reputation, but whole, talents and doubts, confidence and uncertainties. Saw the real person.
The notion thrilled yet made her feel oddly vulnerable.
She shoved an arm into her cardigan, pulled it round and slid her other arm in. Its familiarity steadied her, a reminder of her everyday world, devoid of handsome princes with dark chocolate voices.
She opened the case in her hands to take out her glasses. She felt naked meeting his scrutiny without them. But the sudden intensity of his stare arrested her. She closed the case with a snap.
‘Hardly formidable, Your Highness. But thank you for the compliment.’
She made to turn away then stopped. This might be her only chance to talk to him. After today he’d probably be as elusive as before.
Steadfastly Tamsin ignored a sudden pang of disappointment. They had nothing in common. What did it matter if she never saw him again?
‘Tomorrow, could I work on the text again? I’m eager to make more progress.’
‘I’m sure you are.’ Yet there was no answering enthusiasm in his face. If he was excited about the possibility of becoming monarch he hid it. His expression was flinty.
Had she said something wrong?
Finally he nodded. ‘It will be brought to you tomorrow so you can pursue your…investigations.’
Tamsin sat absorbed, one bare foot tucked beneath her.
The more she delved into this manuscript, the more it fascinated. The choice of words, the phrasing, it was unique, even without the bombshell revelation that generations ago the wrong heir had become king. The intricate detail about life at court was incredible.
Take this word. She tilted her lamp to better view the idiosyncratic spelling. It should mean…
She paused, frowning as her thoughts strayed.
There was no sound, no movement on the periphery of her vision. Yet suddenly her focus was shot. The hairs on her arms prickled in atavistic awareness. Did she imagine a change in the atmosphere?
Tamsin focused again, trying to fathom the meaning of a convoluted sentence. Yet the more she tried to concentrate the more aware she became of…something else.
Finally in exasperation she looked up. And saw him.
The overhead lights were on against the fading afternoon. He stood under one, his black hair glossy in the spill of light. He was motionless, feet apart and hands in pockets in a masculine stance that reinforced the air of tough capability she’d noticed from the first.
Her heart throbbed an agitated tattoo. How long had he silently watched her? Why did he look so grim?
More than that, she wondered, as she sat back in her seat, what was he doing here?
‘You’ve been working since seven-thirty this morning and you barely paused for lunch.’ He dragged his hands from his pockets and approached. ‘It’s time you stopped.’
Tamsin frowned. ‘You’re keeping tabs on me?’ She didn’t feel indignant. She was too busy grappling with surprise.
He shrugged those superb shoulders and she stifled rising awareness. ‘My staff have upped security given the importance of your find. I asked them to keep me informed.’
Informed of her meal breaks? Surely he had more on his mind than that? She opened her mouth to question him.
‘You’re translating?’ He leaned over, one broad hand on the desk just inches from the manuscript.
Unaccountably heat washed her as she stared at his long fingers splayed close to hers. His masculine scent made her draw a deep, appreciative breath.
‘Yes.’ She sat straighter. ‘It’s a fascinating document, even apart from the succession issue.’ She looked at the closely written text but all her attention was on the man who’d casually invaded her space.
‘And now you’ve finished for the day.’
For a long moment Tamsin debated. It wasn’t a question. She could contradict him and stay, working on the translation. Normally she worked much later. Yet her concentration had shattered. She found herself stretching, cramped muscles easing as she moved.
‘Yes. I’ve finished.’ She shoved her chair back and stood, busying herself packing up. By rights she should feel less overawed by him now she was on her feet. Instead, she inhaled his fresh scent as he leaned close and became aware of the way his body hemmed her in. It made her edgy.
‘Good. You’re free to come out.’
‘Out?’ Her brow knitted.
‘How long since you left the castle?’
‘I…’ There had been her walk down to the river a few days ago. Or had it been a week? She’d been too busy to count days. ‘I’ve been occupied lately.’
‘As I thought.’ He nodded. ‘Come on. Pack that up.’
‘I’m perfectly capable of getting fresh air myself.’
Eyes of dark sapphire held hers as he leaned across the desk. ‘I’m sure you are. You’re a most capable woman, Dr Connors.’
His mouth kicked up in a smile that lit his face and made her suck in her breath. The way he spoke her name, using her formal title as if it were an endearment, made her ridiculously flushed.
A warning bell clanged crazily in her head.
‘Why are you here?’ She braced her hands on the desk rather than lean towards that stunning smile. ‘What do you want?’
She was no bedazzled fool, no matter how her pulse pattered out of control and illicit excitement shimmied along her backbone. Men like Prince Alaric didn’t waste time on women like her. Women who weren’t glamorous or sexy. She’d learned the hard way where she stood with the opposite sex and she wasn’t making that mistake again.
‘You don’t pull your punches. I like your bluntness.’
Did he have any idea how gorgeous he looked, with laughter lines crinkling from his eyes and that conspiratorial grin turning rakishly handsome into devastatingly irresistible?
No wonder he had a reputation as a rogue. He’d only have to ask to get anything he wanted from a woman. The knowledge shored up her saggi
ng defences.
She turned away to slip her notebook into a drawer.
‘I do want something. I have a proposition for you.’ She looked up, startled, and he raised a hand before she could interrupt. ‘But not here. It’s late. You need a break and I need to eat. I’ll show you some of our Ruvingian hospitality and we can discuss it after we’ve eaten.’
Instinct warned her something was amiss. There was no reason for a prince to take an employee to dine. Yet the sparkle in his eyes invited her to forget her misgivings and take a chance.
Curiosity gnawed. What sort of proposition? Something to do with the archives?
‘If you’d like someone to vouch for me…’ he began.
Her lips twitched. ‘Thank you, but no.’
Despite his easy charm there was a tension about his jaw that hinted at serious intent. Maybe what he had to say was important after all, not just a whim.
‘Some fresh air would be welcome. And some food.’ Suddenly she realised how hungry she was.
‘Excellent.’ He stepped back and the fragile sense of intimacy splintered. ‘Wear warm clothes and comfortable shoes. I’ll meet you by the garages in twenty minutes.’
‘I’ll see to this.’ But as she reached for the text he pulled cotton gloves from his pocket and picked it up.
‘I’ll take care of that. You go and get ready.’
He didn’t trust her to keep the chronicle safe. Last night he’d taken it away, saying he wanted it locked up. Disappointment was a plunging sensation inside her.
If he didn’t trust her with that, how could he trust her to do her job? And why would he have a proposition?
Tamsin felt completely out of place in the luxurious, low-slung car as it purred out of the cobbled courtyard and over the bridge that connected the castle with the steep mountain spur. A last glimpse of the castle, a floodlit fantasy with its beautiful, soaring towers, reinforced her sense of unreality. She slid her fingers over the soft leather upholstery, eyes wide as she took in the state of the art controls. She’d never been in a car like this.
Or spent time alone with a man like Prince Alaric.
In the confines of the vehicle he was impossible to ignore. So big and vital. Electricity charged the air so it buzzed and snapped. It was hard to breathe.
She told herself lack of food made her light-headed. She should have eaten lunch instead of skimping on an apple.
He nosed the car down a series of swooping bends and she risked a sideways look. A smile played around his mouth as if an icy road after dusk was just what he loved. His powerful hands moved easily on the wheel, with a fluid sureness that hinted he enjoyed tactile pleasures.
Tamsin shivered as an unfamiliar yearning hit her.
‘You’re cold?’ He didn’t take his eyes off the road. How had he sensed the trawling chill that raked her spine?
‘No, I’m warm as toast.’
‘So it’s the road that bothers you.’ Before she could answer he eased his foot onto the brake.
It was on the tip of her tongue to protest. He hadn’t been speeding. She’d enjoyed the thrill of the descent, instinctively sensing she was safe with such a capable driver. Disappointment rose as they took the next bend at a decorous pace but she didn’t contradict him. She didn’t want to try explaining the curious feelings that bombarded her when she was with him.
‘What’s this proposition you have for me?’
He shook his head, not looking away from the road as it curved one final time then disappeared like a dark ribbon into the forest at the foot of the mountain. ‘Not yet. Not till we’ve eaten.’
Tamsin tamped down her impatience, realising her companion had no intention of being swayed. For all his light-hearted charm she sensed he could be as immoveable as the rock on which his castle perched.
‘Tell me why you took this position. Being cooped up here in the dead of winter hasn’t got much to recommend it.’
Was he kidding? Tamsin slanted another glance his way and saw nothing but curiosity in his expression.
‘The place is beautiful. Its heritage listed for outstanding scenic and cultural significance.’
‘But you’ve barely been out of the castle.’
Tamsin stiffened. Had his staff been reporting her movements? Why? The unsettling discovery didn’t sit well with the sense of freedom she’d enjoyed.
‘I’d planned to explore. But once I got engrossed in my work and found Tomas’s chronicle, I never found time.’
‘You came to Ruvingia for the views?’ Disbelief edged his tone.
‘Hardly.’ Though the picturesque setting was a bonus. ‘It was the work that fascinated me.’
‘You don’t mind spending an alpine winter so far from family and friends?’
Tamsin looked away, to the dark forest crowding close. She was grateful for the heating which dispelled any chill. ‘My parents were the first to urge me to apply. They know how important my work is to me.’
They didn’t care about her not being home for the festive season. As far as her father, a single-minded academic, was concerned the holidays were simply a nuisance that closed the university libraries. Her mother, wrapped up in her art, found it easier catering for two than three. Theirs was a distant kind of caring. They were dedicated to their work and Tamsin, an unexpected child after years of marriage, had fitted between the demands of their real interests. She’d grown self-sufficient early, a dreamer losing herself in a world of books.
‘What about your friends? Surely you’d rather be with them at this time of year?’ He probed the sore point, making her want to shrink inside herself.
Tamsin had friends, but none were particularly close.
Except Patrick. She’d expected to see a lot of him over the holidays. Had expected their relationship to blossom into something wonderful.
Before she’d discovered what a gullible idiot she’d been.
She turned to find Prince Alaric watching her closely. In the dim interior light she sensed an intensity to his stare that surprised her. Why did this interest him so?
‘You don’t understand how exciting this job is.’ With an effort she pinned on a bright smile. ‘A previously unknown hoard of documents. The opportunity to be of real value, preserving what might otherwise be lost. Not to mention the excitement of discovery. The chance to…’ She hesitated, unwilling to reveal how important this job was at a more personal level.
This had been an escape route she’d gratefully seized. She couldn’t bear Patrick gloating over his success and sneering at her naivety. Plus there’d been her colleagues’ pitying looks.
It was also an opportunity to shore up her battered self-esteem. To prove that despite her appalling lapse of judgement with Patrick, she was good at what she did. Even, she admitted now, to show those who’d doubted her abilities they’d made a mistake promoting Patrick instead of her. His work was inferior but he had the charm to make the most of every opportunity. They’d soon realise their mistake but Tamsin wouldn’t be human if she didn’t want to banish her growing self-doubts with a coup of her own.
‘The chance to…?’
Tamsin dragged herself back to the conversation. What had she been saying? ‘The chance to be part of this exciting discovery. It’s a once in a lifetime opportunity.’
‘But you can’t have known that when you applied for the job.’ His riposte was lightning fast. He speared her with a penetrating look before turning back to the road.
‘No, but I…’
She couldn’t tell him how desperately she’d needed to escape. Escape Patrick lording his new position over her; Patrick with his old girlfriend on his arm again. Her forlorn heart had shredded whenever she’d seen them.
‘I wanted a change. This sounded too good to miss.’ She sounded stilted, falsely bright, but she wasn’t about to bare her soul.
‘Too good to be true, in fact.’ His voice deepened on a curiously rough note. In the streetlights of the town they’d entered he looked stern.
&nb
sp; Had he grown bored? He was probably used to more scintillating conversation. Tamsin was more than happy to change the subject.
‘Where are we going?’ They were in the old town, where roads narrowed and cobblestones glistened. Lights were strung between lampposts, giving the streets a festive air as pedestrians strolled, looking at decorated shop windows.
Tamsin wished she could be one of them. Away from prying questions. Away from memories that taunted her.
‘The winter market is on,’ he said. ‘We’ll eat and you can see some of the sights.’
Tamsin felt a flicker of excitement. The town looked quaintly romantic with half-timbered houses, brightly painted shutters and steep, snow-capped roofs.
But with a prince by her side relaxation was impossible. Instead she fretted over his mysterious proposition and the growing sense of something wrong. Why this interest in her?
A couple strolled hand in hand across the street, catching her eye. They were barely aware of anyone else, completely absorbed in each other. She felt a small pang of envy. Once she’d hoped she and Patrick…
Tamsin had never been close to anyone like that. Never experienced all-encompassing love, even from her parents. Never even fitted in, finishing school before her age peers and being so much younger than her university colleagues.
She turned away, setting her mouth firmly. She refused to pine for what she’d never had. One perilous venture into romance had proved what she’d always suspected. Love wasn’t for her. She just didn’t inspire that sort of affection.
But she had her work. That was compensation enough.
Alaric viewed the woman beside him with frustration. Two hours in her company and she was still an enigma.
On one level she was easy to read. Her peal of laughter at the antics of children on the outdoor ice-skating rink. Her enthusiasm for markets filled with local handcrafts and produce. She was pleased by simple delights: watching a woodcarver create a nutcracker dragon, or a lace-maker at work, asking questions all the time.
