Not Fit for a King - By Jane Porter Page 0,20
in minutes.”
Hannah looked up from the screen where she’d been doing a crash course on celebrity gossip so she’d know as much as she could about Emmeline’s Argentine boyfriend, Alejandro.
It was just unfortunate that she’d waited until now to learn what she could about Emmeline, but celebrities and royals had never interested her, and growing up without a television or even Internet access, she’d never known such a world existed until she entered high school. But now she wished she’d spent a little more time paying attention to Hollywood celebrities and European royals, particularly the young royals today.
“I know. I’ll be ready,” she said. “I just need to finish this article and I’ll go.”
“But you aren’t dressed for dinner. Do you even know what you’re going to wear?”
“No. You can pick something for me, if you’d like.”
Lady Andrea sent Hannah to dinner in a stunning marine blue gown that was loosely gathered at the throat and yet cut away to leave her shoulders and arms bare. Rich blue sapphire teardrops hung from her ears and a matching bracelet circled her wrist.
With her hair softly gathered at her nape and sleek high heels on her feet Hannah felt more glamorous than she ever had before.
They were to have a quiet dinner in the King’s Chambers, which were four large rooms strung together. Zale’s butler opened the living room door, inviting her in.
“I haven’t had the pleasure of meeting you yet, Your Highness, but I look forward to serving you soon,” Mr. Krek said with a formal little bow.
Hannah smiled warmly. “It’s good to meet you. I’ve heard so much about you.”
He flushed with pleasure. “I look forward to serving you, Your Highness.”
“Thank you, Mr. Krek.”
“Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll see to your drinks and appetizers.”
Hannah watched him walk out and she was alone, and then a moment later, she was not.
She knew the moment Zale entered the room. Felt a frisson of pleasure race down her spine. Turning slowly, Hannah looked over her shoulder.
There he was, Zale Patek, standing in the doorway, dressed in an elegant dinner jacket, crisp shirt and tie. His hair was combed, his jaw freshly shaven.
“Your Majesty,” she said, suddenly breathless.
“Your Highness,” he answered, allowing his gaze to slowly sweep over her, making her feel as if she was about to become his next favorite plaything. He moved from the doorway and walked toward her. “I like the dress.”
Her heart beat double fast. “But not the lady?”
His piercing amber gaze met hers. “I’m still trying to decide.”
She lifted a brow, her full lips pursing. “Well, when you’ve come to a decision, do let me know.”
Heat shot through Zale, his body hardening instantaneously. My God, she was good. Interesting. Clever.
He was fascinated by the way she carried herself, her wit, her intelligence. She was beautiful and challenging and complex.
He’d fully intended to end it with Emmeline earlier today. He was going to make a clean break, wire the money he’d owe the d’Arcy family to the Bank of Brabant and move on so that he could find someone more suitable.
That’s why he’d gone to her in her dressing room. That’s why he’d been honest.
Blunt.
But now that she was fighting back, demanding a chance to prove herself worthy, he felt compelled to give her that opportunity.
Not out of any altruistic gesture, of course.
When it came to Emmeline he was appallingly carnal. He might not like her, but she was right—he wanted her. And the intensity of his desire surprised him.
He’d thought her beautiful at their engagement party but he hadn’t felt this fierce physical attraction that evening. The truth was he hadn’t felt much of anything for her throughout the year. Until now.
But ever since yesterday, whenever he looked at her, he thought of one thing—getting her in his bed, naked beneath him.
He wanted to see her long blond hair tousled about her face, a golden ripple across the pillow.
He wanted to part her thighs as wide as he could and bury himself in her, thrusting deep and hard to make her come.
He wanted to shatter her control and make her fall apart and see if there was perhaps a real woman, a warm woman, underneath the shimmering hair and stunning face.
“We both have busy schedules,” he said, “but I’ll see if I can’t have our appointments and appearances shuffled around to allow us to spend as much time together in the next few days—”
“Four,” she interrupted. “You’ve promised me four starting tomorrow.”
“I think that was four, starting