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‘So why? What was the wedding like? Awful?’

‘No, beautiful,’ said Rose reflectively. ‘The most beautiful wedding I’ve ever been to.’

‘Then why the long face?’

Rose sat down at the kitchen table and put her wineglass down heavily. ‘It’s stupid, really—’ She looked up into Lara’s frankly interested brown eyes. ‘Did I ever tell you that Sabrina’s new husband is best friends with a prince?’

Lara’s eyes grew larger. ‘You’re winding me up, right?’

Rose shook her head and bit back a half-smile. It did sound a bit far-fetched. ‘No, I’m not. It’s the truth. He’s prince of a country—more a principality, really—called Maraban—it’s in the Middle East.’

 

; ‘And next, I suppose you’ll be telling me that he’s outrageously good-looking and rich, to boot!’

Rose sighed. ‘Yes! He’s exactly that. Just about the most perfect man you’ve ever seen. Tall, and dark and handsome—’

‘Oh, ha, ha, ha!’

‘No, he is! Honestly. He’s divine. I danced with him…’ Her voice tailed off as she remembered how it felt to have his body so tantalisingly close to hers. ‘Danced with him, and—’

‘And what?’

‘And—’ No need to point out that she had got a little carried away on the dance-floor. She squirmed with remembered pleasure and glanced up to see Lara’s open-mouthed expression.

‘Oh, Rose, you didn’t?’

Rose blinked as the implication behind Lara’s question squeaked its way home. ‘No, of course I didn’t! You surely don’t imagine that I’d meet a man at a wedding and hours later leap into bed with him, do you?’ she questioned indignantly.

But you did it in thought if not in deed, didn’t you? mocked the guilty voice of her conscience.

Lara was looking at her patiently. ‘So what happened?’

‘He, well, he asked me to go for a drink with him once the bride and groom had left,’ explained Rose.

‘What’s the problem with that? You said yes, of course?’

‘Actually,’ said Rose, in a high, forced voice, not quite believing that she had had the strength of will to go through with it, ‘I said no.’

Lara was blinking at her in bemusement. ‘You’ve lost me! He’s gorgeous, he’s royal and you turned him down! Why, for heaven’s sake?’

‘I don’t know.’ Rose sighed again. ‘Well, maybe that’s not true, I suppose I do, really. He’s so utterly irresistible—’

‘That’s usually considered a plus where men are concerned, isn’t it?’

‘But he would never commit, I know he wouldn’t—it’s written all over his face!’

Lara stared at her incredulously. ‘Never commit?’ she echoed. ‘I can’t believe I’m hearing this! Rose, you’ve danced with the guy once and already you’re talking commitment? And this from the woman who has always vowed never to get married—’

‘Until I’m at least thirty-five,’ said Rose with a look of fierce determination. ‘I’ll have achieved something by then, so I’ll be ready! And people live longer these days—it makes sense to put off getting married for as long as possible.’

‘Very romantic,’ said Lara.

‘Very realistic,’ commented Rose drily.

‘So why the talk of commitment—or, rather, the lack of it?’

Rose took a thoughtful sip of wine. She wasn’t really sure herself. Maybe because she didn’t want to be just another woman in a long line of discarded women.


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