Yes. He might be puffed up and overprotective, but he could still stun a woman into silence. He glanced at the café roster on the kitchen wall and absorbed the information with satisfaction.
‘I don’t—’
‘The palace is not a prison,’ he said coolly, daring her to deny him. ‘You can see if your dreams are remotely accurate.’
‘I—’
‘You will be met at the gate at two p.m. Don’t be late.’
‘But—’
‘Don’t disappoint her.’
Her chin lifted, mutiny flaring in her stunningly pale eyes. ‘Or?’
A ripple of something stronger than satisfaction shimmered through him now. Temptation in all its colours.
‘Or you’ll have to answer to me.’ He couldn’t resist leaning a little closer as he stood. ‘Personally.’