The King's Bride By Arrangement - Annie West Page 0,39

blazed in his eyes. Triumph or approval?

‘Excellent. And the other condition?’

‘We handle the media my way.’

CHAPTER NINE

PAUL HAD TO hand it to Eva—she didn’t shirk. For a moment yesterday when she’d spoken of handling the media her way he’d wondered if she meant hiding from the press and hoping the negative stories would all go away.

Which was totally ludicrous, if you knew Eva. And he was beginning to know Eva.

In some ways he still had so much to learn about her. In others, he knew Eva very well indeed. The surreptitious thought crept up on him, threatening to unravel his composure as he relived the sweet sound of her climaxing, and the feel of her moving against him. Her movements had been eager, if a little inept, till she’d found her rhythm, and all the more arousing for that.

He concentrated on marshalling his features into a sympathetic expression as he turned from the journalists in front of him to the woman speaking beside him.

Definitely better to look sympathetic than like he was lusting after her. Which he was.

Not just now but ever since she’d kissed him in the kitchen and shattered the sexual barriers between them.

Or maybe earlier. That night, as she’d flounced down the stairs to the ball looking remote and superior and at the same time too sexy for his equanimity.

He yanked his attention back to what Eva was saying. That women had the right to be unmolested, at night as well as in daylight. That dancing with a man didn’t confer sexual rights. That, in hindsight, she’d think twice about accepting at face value a stranger’s offer of assistance in locating a taxi. But wasn’t that a sad state of affairs?

Pride swelled as he listened. She’d been right to do this herself rather than leave the PR specialists to craft a press release. Eva had a naturalness, a charming approachability, that drew her listeners in and made her moments of gravity all the more profound.

She’d be such an asset at his side long-term. How had he not realised?

But then the only time they’d faced the press together had been on the occasion of their betrothal, each nervous, each aware that the match had been engineered not because of personal preference but for dynastic reasons.

He looked back now and wondered why he’d let her obvious discomfort colour his view of her. He’d been uncomfortable too. His attempt to kiss her had been clumsy and ill-timed. No wonder she’d pulled away.

Not like her kisses now.

Heat brewed deep in his belly.

‘And your thoughts, Your Majesty?’ He turned to meet the inquisitive stare of a local reporter.

Paul reached out his hand and took Eva’s, threading his fingers through hers.

‘Frankly, I feel ashamed that this should happen in St Ancilla. Naturally, at a personal level, my fiancée’s distress weighs on me. It’s also drawn my attention to the danger any woman can face at any time from predatory men. It’s something we’re all aware of but too often we—that is, men—forget because we think it doesn’t affect us personally.’

Slim fingers squeezed his and warmth shot through him. Not the heat of arousal like before, but something altogether different, yet just as potent. He liked it.

‘It does affect us,’ he continued. ‘Unless we want a society where our neighbours, colleagues, sisters, wives and fiancées are potentially under threat.’

‘So what do you suggest we do?’ asked a man in the second row. ‘Are you advocating violence? It’s been reported that you brawled with the man.’

Paul felt as much as heard the hush fall across the small crowd of journalists. Eva’s hand tightened around his. In warning?

He turned towards her and saw she once again wore what he now thought of as her public face. Her expression was serene, but he knew her well enough now to understand the slightly up-tilted angle of her jaw and the silvery glitter in her eyes. This session was tougher than she was letting on and she was upset, or perhaps worried about where this was leading.

Did she fear charges might be laid against him?

Paul turned back to his questioner. ‘I’m not advocating violence. I’m suggesting we all think carefully about our behaviour. About the words and actions we, as a society, want to model for our children, or let pass as acceptable. We should call out bad behaviour rather than pretend that sexist or aggressive comments and actions are a bit of a joke. And of course we should each do our bit to help others feel safe.’

‘By

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