The King's Captive Virgin. Natalie Anderson
temperature plummeted as the silence stretched, tearing at her equanimity and customary conciliatory manner.
‘The Princess likes to spend time with the younger patients,’ she said crisply, deciding to end this as quickly and as politely as possible. Fortunately she was experienced at building barriers to distance herself and end conversations early. ‘Most of them are having their dinner and will then be prepared for sleep.’
‘Are you saying this is an inconvenient time?’ His query would have been perfectly polite if it hadn’t been for that slight edge in his voice.
‘It’s outside of customary visiting hours,’ she replied, with as much diplomacy as she could summon.
‘Then let’s not disturb them.’
Relief bloomed in Kassie’s chest and she managed an actual small smile as she waited for His Arrogance to depart. But he too waited, watching her far too closely. His lashes lowered and he lazily looked her up and down. She stiffened. Was he really looking at her body? The King?
Men had been looking at her body since she was a young teenager and had first developed the curves that so many guys seemed instantly to equate with sexual appetite. They looked, they made assumptions, they made passes. And then they made slurs, because she didn’t respond the way they wanted. So, as always, she froze at this visual inspection—but stared hard back at him, glaring to convey her anger at his audacity.
He ended his trailing inspection of her and met her gaze directly, his green eyes imprisoning her attention. She couldn’t have torn it away if she’d tried. And, deep within her, an unexpected kernel of energy popped—a spark that set her nerves to smoulder. And then another. Suddenly every muscle tightened, coiling with kinetic energy. Her body simmered.
Ordinarily Kassie had no flight-or-fight mode—she simply froze. But now? Now she felt primed to act.
He wasn’t anything like his serene sister—a sweet woman who liked to laugh and draw pictures for the patients. There was no laughter in him—only leashed energy. She could almost feel waves of emotion rolling off him—impatience barely concealed. It didn’t seem right for such a big man to stand so still. He was like a predator about to attack. His fiery gaze trained on hers.
She was clearly going crazy. She didn’t get flustered in the presence of royals or other supposedly important people. She didn’t get overwhelmed. She didn’t get struck speechless. And she certainly didn’t start thinking about sex. Always she remained cool. More than cool. Outright frosty.
She knew very well that in the doctors’ ranks she was famed for her frigidity. That was the only reason why that guy had come to try his luck with her just before. And she’d rejected him—just as she’d rejected every one of the others who’d heard about her and who’d come to ask her on a date. It was no longer about her as a person, but her as a challenge. Rejection from her was a rite of passage for new recruits.
‘How else may I help you?’ she asked, her throat dry.
‘I require your assistance,’ he said curtly.
‘You need a physiotherapist?’
Insanely, the thought of touching him was...not what she’d expected. No, the thought of touching him made the skin beneath her uniform sizzle rather than chill.
Startled by her own stunning inconsistency, Kassie quickly denied him. ‘I’m sure there’s someone with more experience who can assist—’
‘It’s you I want,’ he snapped.
She flinched. Want? What did he mean by ‘want’?
She stared up at him, transfixed by the total derailment of her thoughts. By what she thought she could read in the banked heat of his green eyes. Was this some kind of weird pick-up? Because if it was this was worse than any of the attempts she’d been subjected to in the past.
Mortified, she felt as if acid was burning a hole right through her pride.
‘Want for what?’ She couldn’t even speak properly—her voice was reduced to a whisper—but her words were rude.
Because it wasn’t quite her pride that was burning—it was something deeper than that. Something more complicated. Had he heard the rumours about her? Was he here to try his luck?
Impossibly, he looked even more remote. ‘It is a delicate matter.’
Somehow her brain conflated ‘delicate’ with intimate. Another whisper of a vision—of being close to him—scattered her remaining rationality to the four winds.
Was she blushing? She never blushed. Never responded to any suggestion of closeness with anything other than revulsion.
‘In what...?’ She paused and cleared her throat to force herself to continue, repeating her question. ‘In what way do you want me?’
He had not lifted his unyielding stare from her face and she knew he was watching the heated colour mottling her skin. Too late she realised that he knew. He saw right thought her and knew the appalling direction her thoughts had taken. And too late she realised the innuendo so blatantly obvious in the question she’d so innocently asked.
‘I’m not about to act inappropriately with you,’ he said, very slowly and softly. ‘I do have a modicum of self-control.’
He had self-control? Did that mean he wanted to act inappropriately with her? She was so shocked she simply couldn’t speak.
He took a step closer, his voice lowering further still. ‘You need to come to the palace. My assistant will bring you there immediately.’
No. Every instinct warned her against being alone with him. Because even being with him here in public like this was causing a reaction within her that wasn’t normal. Not for her.
Emotion surged—fury coalesced with fear and summoned rebellion. She didn’t care who he was. She wasn’t going to blindly do as she was told.
‘I don’t get into cars with strangers,’ she said as calmly as she could. ‘I don’t go anywhere without knowing why.’
He regarded her steadily, that arrogant tilt curling his lips. ‘Are you defying the express orders of your King?’
She sucked in a breath and replied before thinking clearly. ‘Are you abusing your position of power to control me?’
His mouth opened and then closed. His nostrils flared as he exhaled. ‘Yes,’ he said with carefully controlled quietness. ‘In this situation I will do whatever it takes to get what I need from you.’
This time her jaw dropped. ‘I don’t see that there’s anything I can do—’
‘But you don’t see everything, do you?’ he said sharply. ‘You don’t know.’
‘Then tell me.’
‘We haven’t the time to waste—’
‘Then put me in chains,’ she snapped. ‘That’s the only way you’ll get me to leave with you.’
Her defiance shocked her. She’d never stood up to anyone so overtly. She worked hard and did as she was told—kept out of trouble and tried to stay invisible to men. But the arrogance of this man was bringing out a side she’d not known she had. Not a good one.
Determinedly she held his stare—and something flickered in his green eyes. She realised he was imagining it—her in chains—and he was enjoying the vision. The heat swamping her now was intolerable, and she dragged in a searing breath as wayward nerves deep within her body fizzed into life.
But suddenly he straightened, and in a blink that cold hostility returned to his expression.
‘I need your help with a personal matter,’ he said irritably. ‘That is all I am prepared to discuss while we are in a public place. Does that satisfy your safety concerns?’