Her name was like thick, rich treacle on his lips and she shivered, hiding her unwanted reaction by stepping forward. ‘So you’ve finally decided to show up,’ she grouched, instinct advising her that attack was the best form of defence with a man like this. ‘How kind of you.’
He gave her a faint smile. ‘I understand you’re not eating.’
A small thrill of satisfaction shot through her. So her self-imposed starvation had worked. ‘Yes. And I won’t until you release me.’
He shrugged one broad shoulder as if to say that his care factor couldn’t be lower. ‘That’s your choice. You won’t die.’
‘How do you know?’ she shot back.
‘It takes three weeks for a person to starve to death. You’re in no danger yet.’
Resenting his sense of superiority, Regan frowned as he clapped his hands together and two servants wheeled a dining cart into the room. One by one they set an array of platters on the dining table near the window.
‘Will that be all, Your Majesty?’
‘For now.’
Regan gave him a look as they bowed and exited the room. ‘Don’t expect that clapping trick to work with me,’ she warned. ‘I’m not one of your minions.’
His silky gaze drifted over her and she wished she were wearing more than a pair of shorts and a T-shirt. If she’d thought he might actually show up she’d have pulled a curtain from the wall and draped herself in it. Anything so that she didn’t feel so exposed.
‘No, that would take far more optimism than even I have for that to occur.’
He moved to the dining table and took a seat, inspecting the array of stainless-steel dishes the servers had laid out.
‘No matter what you say,’ she advised him, ‘I won’t eat.’
He gave her a long-suffering look. ‘Believe it or not, Miss James, I do not wish for you to have a bad experience during your stay in the palace. I even hoped that we might be...friends.’
‘Friends?’
He shrugged. ‘Acquaintances, then.’
Regan couldn’t have been more incredulous if he’d suggested they take a spaceship to Mars. ‘And you say you’re not optimistic.’ She scoffed. ‘The only thing I want from you is for you to release me.’
‘I can’t do that. I already told you that I will do whatever it takes to have my sister returned home safely.’
‘Just as I would do whatever it takes to have my brother returned home safely as well.’
He inclined his head, a reluctant smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. ‘On this we understand each other.’
Not wanting to have anything in common with the man, Regan set him straight. ‘What I understand is that you’re an autocratic, stubborn, overbearing tyrant.’
He didn’t respond to her litany of his faults and she narrowed her eyes as he uncovered the small platters of delicious-smelling food. His imperviousness to her only made her temper flare hotter.
Then her stomach growled, making her feel even more irritable. She watched him scoop up a dip with a piece of flatbread, his eyes on her the whole time. His tongue came out to lick at the corner of his mouth and a tremor went through her. ‘You look ridiculous when you eat,’ she lied. ‘Can’t you do that somewhere else?’
Expecting him to become angry with her, she was shocked when he laughed. ‘You know, your disposition might be improved if you stopped denying yourself your basic needs. Hunger strikes are very childish.’
Stung to be called childish, Regan stared down at him. ‘My disposition will only improve when you release me and stop saying awful things about my brother.’
His eyes narrowed when she mentioned Chad, but other than that he didn’t show an ounce of emotion; instead he scooped up more food with his fingers and tempted her with it.
Irritated, she thought about moving outside but then decided against it. If he was going to antagonise her she would do the same back.
‘You cannot think to stick with this plan,’ she said, wandering closer to him.
Curious blue eyes met hers. ‘What plan?’