Counterfeit Princess. Raye Morgan
a dangerous life, then.” His eyebrow quirked. “Speaking of which…”
She could tell by his tone that he was leading into something she wasn’t going to like and she steeled herself.
“I hear you’ve been leading quite an interesting life since I saw you last. Perhaps you might find time at some future date to fill me in on the particulars of anything I might need to know.”
She saw right through him. What was he angling for, an abject apology from the princess that she’d been around the block a few times? Despite the gossip she’d heard about Iliana, and the things she knew about her as well, she felt an impulse to defend her. But she held it back. After all, she wasn’t here to build foundations for their future relationship. She was just here to smile and get through the evening without creating a disaster.
“A gentleman doesn’t ask a lady things about her past,” she said evasively, her glance into his eyes just short of a glare.
His dark eyebrow rose again. “In my experience, that rule only applies when the past is somewhat shady.”
“Shady!”
“Well, cloudy at the very least.”
“Really?” Anger could easily turn to fury if she didn’t watch it. She choked back her impulse to go on the attack for a moment, but then couldn’t resist one quick comment. “I suppose your past is pure as the driven snow.”
“My past is irrelevant,” he said, looking infuriatingly superior. “But your reaction tells me all I need to know about yours.”
“Oh really?” The man was insufferable! “A lot you know. Give me one example of something ‘cloudy’ in the prin…in my past.” She knew the moment the words were on her lips that she was courting disaster but she couldn’t stand the way he was lording it over her.
“You wouldn’t like me to do that.”
“You’re bluffing,” she challenged hotly, and dancing was forgotten as she stood glaring at him, chin out, hands on her hips. “You don’t have one.”
He gave her a long-suffering look. “Your Highness, I hardly think this is the time or the place for this sort of display.”
“There.” She tossed her head. “I knew you didn’t really have one.”
His cold gaze settled on her in a way that made her want to take a step backward, but she forced herself to hold her position.
“All right,” he said slowly. “I’ll tell you of one. Although, as you have reminded me, it is very impolite for a gentleman to do so.”
“Have at it.”
Taking her arm and forcing a smile in the direction of a person he recognized, he led her quickly away from the crowd and out onto a balcony where they could have at least the semblance of privacy. Once alone, she swung around to face him, and he began his reminiscence.
“The time I’m thinking of was when you must have been about fourteen. All our families were congregated at that resort in the south of France. I was in a sailing race when I found you, barely dressed in a thong bikini you must have stolen from some street-walker, stowed away in my Laser. Of course, you ruined my chances in the race, and when I put you ashore, you told everyone who would listen that I’d kidnapped you.”
She winced inside, but would have died rather than show it. Princess Iliana did seem to have a penchant for inappropriate behavior. Her own inclination would have been to apologize, but she had to think what the real princess would say to having her adolescent idiocies thrown in her face. So she faced him with defiance.
“Did I also tell them you had no sense of humor?” She shrugged grandly, turning to look out over the city street below where traffic was strung out like diamonds on a chain. “Anyway, you made that up. I wouldn’t ever have done such a thing.” And that was true on a personal level.
“It was you or someone who looks a lot like you,” he said, and her eyes widened, wondering for a second or two if he was wise to her. But he went on, adding, “I’ve thought of a lot more instances, now that you’ve brought them to mind. Would you like to hear another?”
She waved a hand in the air, dismissing his suggestion. “Unnecessary. I think I’ve got the general trend of the way your mind works.”
“So you do concede my point.”
“I don’t concede anything.”
“That’s illogical. You’ve basically conceded.”
“No I haven’t.” She turned to go back into the ballroom. “But I’m through talking about it.”
He put an arm out, hand against the wall, blocking her passage. “Concede,” he demanded, his arrogance on proud display.
She stared up at him, aware once again of his wide shoulders and strong jaw. This was exactly the sort of man she had dreamed of in her adolescence, the sort of man who might grab a girl and throw her over his shoulder…. She shivered. What a ridiculous thought. She was adolescent no longer and she didn’t dream of macho men. They were passe, old hat, from another time. The ideal man should respect a woman and treat her just the way he would a casual friend. The prince was out of line as far as she was concerned.
She glared at him. “You can’t make me. You’re not a king yet, you know.”
“No,” he agreed, his eyes narrowing. “But I’m sure to become one. And whether or not you become a queen is still up in the air, isn’t it?”
She gasped. Turning back toward the balcony railing, she began to stroll, forcing him to follow her. “I don’t know why you want to marry me if you really can’t stand me.”
He looked stunned that she would come right out and say it. “I never said any such thing.”
“Your body language says it loud and clear.”
“Then you are misreading my body.”
Their gazes clashed, held for a long moment as they both digested the words he’d just spoken. Shannon felt heat flood her face, infuriating her even further. She quickly looked away. But they didn’t resume walking, and in a few seconds, their eyes met again, as though it was impossible for them to keep from doing it.
“I just want you to know,” Marco added roughly, “that I wouldn’t marry any woman that I couldn’t stand.”
She nodded crisply. “So the wedding is off?” she said, coolly searching his gaze.
He stared down at her as though she’d said something too outlandish to deal with, and suddenly Freddy was there, obsequiously inserting himself into the conversation. Shannon didn’t actually hear what he was saying. She was still staring into Marco’s gaze, wondering how she could be so angry with someone she found so attractive. But a moment later, she was leaving the balcony on Freddy’s arm, forcing herself to resist the urge to look back at the crown prince.
“I am not marrying that man,” she said through gritted teeth once she was alone with Greta in the dressing room. She saw the look that passed over Greta’s face and she added quickly, “And if Princess Iliana is smart, she won’t either.”
Funny, but she hadn’t spent much time wondering about the real Iliana before. The woman had hardly seemed real to her anyway. This was just a job she was doing. But now she had to face the fact that she’d been saying things in Iliana’s name, things that might last and have repercussions, and that fact made everything very different.
She was pacing the floor in pent-up frustration and Greta was watching her as though she were witnessing a natural phenomenon that threatened disaster but couldn’t be controlled. She stopped in front of the woman.
“You know, I’m going to have to talk to the princess when she gets back, before she meets with the prince. I’m going to have to tell her some of the things I’ve said to him. That is,