few short weeks later, when Edward mentioned the ongoing treaty negotiations with the resident maharaja, Rhystan saw his opening. He would offer to transfer under Vice Admiral Markham, the Crown’s representative overseeing discussions.
“You’re not thinking, Huntley,” Edward had warned. “And besides, the East India Company has a reputation. Their practices are corrupt.”
Rhystan had shrugged. “I’ll handle the Company.”
“Don’t do this. You’re forgetting who your father is.”
“I never forget who he is.”
A disapproving Edward had left, and Rhystan had stayed on. It was at the next state dinner and ball celebrating the end of the treaty negotiations that he came face-to-face with her.
A goddess in opalescent silk.
Nothing in his wildest imaginings could have prepared him for the reality of her.
Like most of the attending nobility, the princess was dressed in European clothing—in her case, a becoming gown that made her sun-kissed complexion glow. She shone, pure and simple. Rhystan held his breath when he was presented to her, the proximity making him feel like his feet weren’t firmly planted on the ground.
“Commander Rhystan Huntley,” his reporting officer, Vice Admiral Markham, intoned. “Maharaja Devindar Rao, and his daughter, Princess Sarani.”
From a distance, she had been beautiful. Close up, Rhystan was struck speechless. Other names were said, he was sure of it. He heard none of them. Somehow, he managed to bow and mumble a tongue-tied greeting, though he felt his neck heat with embarrassment.
A hint of deviltry curled the corner of the princess’s lip, but it was gone before he could take stock of its appearance. She nodded regally, and then it was over, thankfully.
Disgusted with himself, Rhystan held up a pillar after the dinner concluded and the dancing began. The princess swirled past in a froth of silky skirts, her gaze touching him for a moment in what felt like a tangible caress.
God, those eyes.
He’d been lucky not to have seen them before. On the surface, she might have been the perfect royal jewel—pristine demeanor, elegant features, graceful bearing. But those expressive eyes of hers had told a different story. Something fierce had spun in their green-flecked brown depths, reminiscent of a free, defiant spirit undaunted by the trappings of nobility. It called to something equally untamed in him.
“Why haven’t you asked me to dance?” a voice like cool velvet on hot skin asked.
Rhystan whirled, the scent of jasmine curling around his already overheated senses as the princess came into view. Several guards hovered behind her, ever vigilant. His jaw slackened as she laughed softly at his expression. He was still struggling to take in the honeyed rasp of her voice, to deal with the musical, chest-tightening sound of her laughter that followed. “Apologies, I assumed your card would be filled.”
“It is,” she said. “But I dance with whomever I please.”
Once more, she laughed, causing him to fixate on her lips. They were perfect, a dark rose pout that curled in amusement. Gulping, he took in the rest of her face, from those entrancing eyes and strongly drawn nose to the golden freckles dancing over a pair of sweeping cheekbones. By God, she had to be one of the most stunning women he’d ever seen. His tongue felt thick in his mouth even as his heart raced.
“Are you naturally quiet?” she asked after he escorted her into the first turn of the next dance. “Or just shy?”
“I’m in awe of your beauty.”
She sniffed and tossed her head. “A woman’s worth is not only in her looks, sir.”
Rhystan forgot about their audience and suddenly wanted to sample that saucy mouth, see if it was as tart as it sounded. “What other attributes should I be looking for?”
“Her intelligence, her compassion, her knowledge, her wit, her strength.”
“I see no lack thereof, but then again, we’ve only just met. You could be a coldhearted, book-burning, humorless harpy for all I know,” he teased, his chest leaping at the delighted curl of her lips.
She threw a dramatic palm to her heart and blew out a breath. “Take that back, you rascal! I love books, more than people, in fact.”
Rhystan grinned, the flash of a mischievous pair of dimples in her cheeks making him want to tease them out again. They parted in a swirl of skirts and came back together. “Besides reading, what else do you enjoy doing, Princess?”
“I am fond of simple pleasures, Commander Huntley.”
“Rhystan.” It was the only word he could safely say after the word pleasures fell from her lips and his mind was blanketed with all manner of wicked things. Like