‘I’m fine.’ The woman sniffed, clearly not fine. ‘I just wanted to get a closer look at you.’
During the night many guests had wanted to get a closer look at her, and, while it hadn’t been as daunting as she’d first thought, she still didn’t like it.
‘Why are you crying?’
‘I’m Princess Alexa of Berenia.’
‘I’m Regan James.’
The woman gave a brief laugh. ‘I know.’
‘Well, at least I made you smile.’ She frowned with concern. ‘Has someone hurt you? Are you feeling ill? Why don’t I take you back to your table so you can—?’
‘No. I don’t want to go back to my table.’ She gave her a hard look. ‘You don’t even know who I am, do you?’
Getting an uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach, Regan shook her head. ‘Should I?’
‘Considering I was the King’s fiancée up until yesterday, I would have thought so. I can’t believe he would keep you in his palace and then marry you.’
Regan felt as if someone had poked her in the stomach with a sharp stick. ‘Do you mean King Jaeger?’
‘Who else?’ Tears welled up in her eyes again. ‘My father thinks you have bewitched him. He blames me, of course.’
‘I haven’t bewitched anyone,’ Regan said vehemently, feeling sick. ‘It’s just... I mean... I can’t explain it to you but I’m really sorry this has happened to you.’
‘He loves you. It’s obvious by the way he looks at you.’ More tears leaked out of her eyes and she valiantly tried to hold them back. ‘The way he touches you.’
Regan agreed that he had touched her a little too much. It had kept her in a heightened state of awareness all night. But she knew for a fact that he didn’t love her. ‘I don’t know what to say to you.’ Her own emotions felt as if they were being buffeted in a fierce wind. She was at once upset for this woman, who clearly cared for the King a great deal, and incredibly angry at Jag’s obvious insensitivity. Why hadn’t he told her about his engagement? Why hadn’t he warned her that his ex might show up and approach her? Because surely he had known Alexa was invited? He’d signed off the guest list.
‘There’s nothing you can say.’ The Princess raised her regal chin in a show of bravado that only made Regan feel worse for her. ‘I tried to tell my father that those photos didn’t matter, that you were nothing to the King, but I was wrong.’
‘You’re not wrong.’ Regan bit her lip, anger making her muscles rigid. ‘Look, I can’t be sure but...maybe things will still work out for you. Maybe you should keep your fingers crossed. You never know what can happen in a couple of days. But if I were you, and I wanted him as much as you seem to then I wouldn’t give up hope.’
The Princess looked at her as if she was crazy. She wasn’t. She was just really angry.
* * *
‘Are you going to talk to me at all about what’s bothering you or are you going to continue to give me frostbite?’
Regan had been giving him the cold shoulder for the last hour until Jag had finally had enough and called it a night.
‘Why have we stopped here?’ she asked curtly, brushing aside his question and glancing along the unfamiliar corridor.
‘You’ve been moved from the garden suite to the one adjoining mine.’
She glared up at him, her mouth tight. ‘I don’t want the room adjoining yours.’
Growing more and more irritated because he’d actually enjoyed what was usually a tedious formal evening, he pushed the door to his room wide open. ‘Too bad. The garden suite is now occupied by the King and Queen of Norway. Feel free to join them if you like.’
She looked at him with such venom he thought she’d decide to do it. But then she lifted her dainty nose in the air and swept past him into the room. Sighing heavily, he followed her into his private living room, wondering what had gone wrong in the last hour.
‘You don’t need to accompany me,’ she said; ‘I know how to undress myself.’
Jag’s eyes dragged down over her lush body and all the way back up. A flush of colour tinged her cheeks and heat surged through his veins. Graphic images of her spread out on his elegant sofa wearing nothing but her delicate gold stilettos drove his frustration levels higher. ‘You sure about that?’ He shrugged out of his jacket and tossed it across the back of said sofa. ‘I’d be happy to lend a hand if you need it.’
‘Oh, I’m sure you would.’ She folded her arms over her chest. ‘I’m sure you’ve helped many women out of their clothing in your time. Women like Princess Alexa perhaps. Your ex-fiancée.’
Ah...suddenly the reason for her cool hauteur made sense. ‘Princess Alexa was not my fiancée. Whoever told you that is mistaken.’