Every single person had wanted some of her time and attention and Frankie was so generous and giving that she would have obliged for another three hours, if he hadn’t called an end to the evening with his speech. Even as he’d given the closing words he’d watched her—watched the way she stood, the way the evening wind rustled past her hair, catching it and pulling it out towards the sea, as though the wind and the ocean knew that she really did belong here in Tolmirós.
His eyes narrowed at the intensity of his thoughts, the depth of his feelings, and he suppressed them with determination.
‘I had fun,’ she said simply. ‘It turns out I’m quite the attention-seeker.’
He lifted a brow but whatever response he’d been about to make fell out of his brain as she lifted her arms and began to style her hair. Long and waved, she lifted it onto her head into a messy bun, and the movement thrust her breasts forward, her nipples erect beneath the pale silk of the nightgown.
Oblivious to
his heated inspection, she continued, ‘You might have created a monster.’
He recognised that he had—but it was not the monster of which Frankie spoke. Matthias was in very real danger of becoming obsessed with Frankie.
Again.
But so much worse this time. He wanted her. All day and all night, his body craved her with a single-mindedness that he hadn’t felt since he was a teenager and first learning the ways of his body’s sensual needs. But tonight had shown him it was more than that. He didn’t want anyone else to claim her attention. He didn’t want her to talk and laugh and commiserate with anyone.
She’d spoken of her childhood and he’d listened, resenting the fact that she was sharing details he didn’t know with a stranger.
There was danger in all those feelings and he rejected them, knowing they were not a part of his life, knowing he didn’t welcome them.
‘I’m kidding,’ she said, and now she was looking at him, a quizzical expression on her brow. ‘I just meant it wasn’t as scary as I thought it would be.’
He nodded, eyes watchful. ‘You’re a natural.’
‘Do you really think so?’
Her doubts opened vulnerability inside his chest like a chasm—a desire to shield her from ever feeling uncertain. He ignored the need to reassure her, to pepper her with praise and compliments and fill her with confidence in herself. For promises were inherent in that and he didn’t want to make promises to Frankie when he had no idea of how to keep them.
‘Yes.’ He spoke the word like a whip cracking into the room. ‘And you will have a busy week of such engagements.’
‘Oh?’
‘In the days before the wedding, diplomats and dignitaries will arrive to pay their respects to the woman who will be Queen. You will have many appointments.’
‘I see.’ She nodded thoughtfully. ‘I remember.’
‘You are not worried about it?’
‘Well, I wish I had a better grasp on Tolmirón,’ she said pragmatically, ‘but, other than that, no. I’m not shy, Matthias. I have no issue talking to strangers.’
She dropped her hands to her sides and smiled brightly—Matthias’s gut rolled. ‘I saw that tonight.’
Her smile dropped. Damn it, the words had sounded critical, his jealousy not something he was able to disguise.
‘But that’s a good thing?’
His eyes narrowed. She poured herself a glass of water from the crystal decanter across the room and sipped it.
‘Yes,’ he said gruffly, finally, unable to take his eyes off her.
She padded across the room, so graceful and lithe. It was a warm night and the windows were open, so the hint of the ocean’s fragrance was carried to them on the breeze. She climbed into bed, sitting up rather than lying down. His fingers itched to reach out and touch her—the smooth, tanned skin of her arms drew his gaze.
‘People are in awe of you,’ she observed, tilting her head to look at him.
He shrugged lightly. ‘I’m their King.’
‘Yes, I know.’ She seemed to be mulling that over. ‘And tonight you seemed like it.’