He curbed the insistent ache. And dropped his hand, to stop himself from devouring her al
l over again.
Her eyes flickered with something that looked like panic.
‘I’m tired. I should...’ She hesitated, and it occurred to him the kiss had shocked her too, as she jerked a thumb over her shoulder. ‘I need to go to bed. I’m exhausted.’
Really?
But the ball wasn’t over yet. It had barely begun. And they had not even discussed the marriage.
He forced himself not to voice his impatience though. Her flushed face and wide eyes made her seem younger than she had a moment ago. The sense of déjà vu niggled at the back of his mind—why did he feel as if he had been here before with her?—but he dismissed it.
‘As you wish, Jade,’ he said, shoving his hands into his pockets, to control the desire to drag her back into his arms.
She was an innocent, he needed to remember that. What had just happened had shocked him as well.
‘Let’s continue this discussion tomorrow.’ Once we’ve both calmed down enough to have a conversation.
‘Yes, let’s... Thank you.’ Her visible relief made him smile.
She would be his, all he had to do was wait.
‘I’ll... I’ll see you tomorrow. When do you leave?’ she asked.
He frowned; didn’t she know the schedule? ‘Noon.’
‘Okay, good,’ she said, then rushed past him.
He watched her disappear around the side of the building—the sight of her in his jacket as appealing as everything else he had discovered about the woman he was now determined to make his bride.
Before tonight, all he’d seen were the political and economic benefits of their union. But tonight he had discovered that there would be considerable fringe benefits too.
The Queen was skittish, that much was obvious. But perhaps that was to be expected. Until tonight there had been no hint of any chemistry between them. Especially not a chemistry of this magnitude. The truth was the intense passion between them had blindsided him; he wanted to be able to control it, before they took this further.
But if it had blindsided him, what must it have done to her? After all, she had no experience of men.
He strolled to the balcony door, the chilly air prickling over his skin. But instead of returning to the ballroom he took the path she’d chosen around the side of the building.
The chivalrous thing to do would be to return to the ball.
But despite outward appearances he was not a chivalrous man, he was a realist. And if he did not return to the ball either, rumours would be rife tomorrow about their joint disappearance.
Rumours he could exploit.
CHAPTER THREE
JUNO AWOKE THE next morning, groggy and disorientated.
Am I dreaming?
Her brain and body struggled to adjust to the alien feel of luxury cotton sheets, and the unfamiliar sight of thick velvet drapes, antique furniture and the view through a tall mullioned window—not of the fire escape of the apartment block opposite hers, but of an enchanting Alpine vista blanketed in snow.
Then her gaze alighted on the uniform jacket draped over one of the armchairs, the memory of hot lips had her nipples drawing into tight peaks and reality came rushing back.
Monrova. Jade. The swap. The ball. Leo.
She pressed her fingers to her chin, where Leo’s kiss had left a mark.