‘And did you like him?’ he questioned suddenly. ‘The King?’
‘Did I like him?’ she repeated slowly. ‘I’ve never really thought about it before. He was just there. Ruling everything and everyone. His power was absolute.’ But as Xanthos continued to regard her curiously, she knew she was short-changing him. And since she would never see him again once they were rescued—ifthey were rescued—why not articulate something she could easily tell a stranger, but would never admit to her sister or her mother? ‘I didn’t really like him, no. He was a cold, cruel man and sometimes I felt sorry for Corso.’
‘Why would you feel sorry for the sole heir to such a wealthy kingdom?’ he demanded. ‘A man who would one day have untold wealth and power at his fingertips.’
She wondered what had caused that sudden bitterness to enter his voice. ‘His mother died when he was young and I think... I think that hit him very hard,’ she explained falteringly. ‘He used to come to our house and have meals with us sometimes, and I used to get the feeling that those times with our family were the only warmth and real company he’d ever known.’
‘Lucky Corso,’ he said hollowly.
‘Maybe.’ She hesitated. ‘You haven’t said how you know the King.’
‘No.’ There was a pause. ‘Let’s just say we have business interests in common.’
But he didn’t do the polite thing of elaborating on what those interests might be, even though Bianca sat there in silence, giving him the perfect opportunity to tell her. Instead, he scrambled to his feet and once again, his shadow seemed to devour the entire room with its darkness.
‘At some point we should eat,’ he said, his voice assuming a familiar note of command. ‘It’ll pass the time as well as keeping our strength up. I’ll fix us something.’
He was doing itagain. Taking charge and assuming control. And even though it might be a very old-fashioned way to behave, Bianca was finding it dangerously seductive. So don’t let him get to you. Show him that you’re perfectly capable of looking after yourself.
She stood up, feeling immediately dwarfed by his immense height. ‘That’s okay. I can just as easily do it.’ She gave him a polite smile. ‘Why don’t you let me fix something while you tend the fire?’
‘Why don’t I?’ he echoed as he bent down to pick up a log.
Glad for the distraction, Bianca went over to the desk and rifled through one of the boxes. ‘Caviar, chocolate, fine wine,’ she listed. ‘Perfect for upmarket snacking on luxury jets, but not exactly what you’d call a balanced diet. Still, I suppose it’ll have to do.’
She did her best, smearing the costly black caviar onto crackers and arranging them on bone-china plates in as attractive a way as possible. She spread the bizarre feast out in front of the fire and sat down while Xanthos walked over to the desk and pulled out a half-bottle of champagne, his black eyes mocking in the firelight as he held it up. ‘Something to help wash it down, or are you still vetoing alcohol?’
Bianca shrugged, not objecting when he tipped the fizzy wine into her empty teacup and handed it to her. ‘Peppermint-flavoured champagne,’ she commented wryly, as she took a sip.
‘Could be the next big thing,’ he murmured, before flicking her a shuttered glance. ‘By the way, thanks for dinner. Under the circumstances, it looks delicious.’
His unexpected praise pleased her and for a while they ate and drank in a silence which was almost companionable. As the fire warmed her skin and the luxury food provided a burst of energy, Bianca could almost have forgotten about their predicament. But she couldn’t ignore the subject they hadn’t yet discussed. The invisible elephant in the room, which was now looming so huge that it seemed to be sucking all the available oxygen from the air.
‘So.’ She surveyed the hard set of his profile and tried not to wonder what it would be like to kiss him. ‘Where are we going to sleep?’
He turned to face her, his expression unreadable. ‘I would have thought the answer was obvious. There’s a bed over there.’
‘I can see that for myself.’ She sucked in a deep breath. ‘And since it’s a bed for one person, that creates a bit of a problem.’
‘Does it?’
‘Of course it does.’
Xanthos could see which way this was going and kept his tone studiedly casual. ‘So you’d like me to sleep on the stone floor, would you, Bianca?’
She shrugged awkwardly. ‘Obviously it isn’t ideal.’
‘Damned right it isn’t ideal,’ he snapped, thinking what a spoiled little princess she could be—despite her protestations that she was nothing but a royal servant’s daughter. ‘Sooner rather than later that fire is going to die out and we need to conserve our fuel because we don’t know when we’re going to be rescued.’ He thought how confident he sounded about the possibility of someone getting to them in time.
Because what if nobody did?
But surely it was easier to concentrate on practicalities rather than his incipient desire for this woman, which was building by the second. A desire to crush those pink lips beneath his and to kiss her until they were both gasping for breath. To explore her luscious curves, which were currently sending out a siren call to his starving senses. He clenched his fists so hard that the knuckles cracked, because this was madness.
He wanted Bianca Forrester, yes. At this precise moment he couldn’t remember ever wanting a woman quite as much. He wanted her with a hunger which felt raw and visceral, and he wondered if their life-threatening incarceration was intensifying a desire which was obviously mutual. His mouth hardened. He had seen the way her gaze had roved hungrily over him earlier, her emerald eyes darkening in the firelight. But he forced himself to think rationally—because wanting a woman and having sex with her were two very different things. And denial was no hardship for a man who liked to test himself.
He raised his arms above his head to fabricate a yawn. ‘Every survival manual printed will tell you that the best way to keep warm is for our bodies to be in close contact. It’s also the best way to maximise the blankets we have,’ he drawled. ‘Which is why we’re going to share that bed.’
‘Are you completely crazy?’