Chapter Three
Lotte called him many very bad names as she munched on her third sublime sushi roll.
She wanted to hate herself for having even a crumb of an appetite right now, but it would be a waste of time.
And dammit, as much as she wanted to deny it, he was right.
She hadn’t eaten since lunch, and she was starving.
Cutting off her nose to spite her face wasn’t her thing. What would be the point?
But buried beneath the satisfying name calling was the well-deep pain of having her suspicions confirmed.
She meant nothing to Valenti Domene.
He’d rushed over here because she was neatly slotted into the pigeonhole of client.
And as her brother, Gunnar, had pointed out the last time she’d protested about the whole guardian/ward situation, Prince Domene’s oath to her dead sister was the reason she was trapped with the royal prince as her guardian until she turned twenty-five.
She didn’t even register as the most tenuous link of almost family, despite being legally his ward.
Even worse was that flash of bleakness when he’d referred to sackcloth and ashes.
Valenti was still very much caught up in her dead sister’s memory and the promise he’d made.
He was visibly desolate every time her name came up.
Knowing that raked over her already bruised feelings, which was enraging and confusing.
Her own grief rolling over her, she dropped the last bite of sushi onto the plate as her emotions overcame her.
She was done attempting to coax even a crumb of humanity from Valenti Domene.
She was done trying to elicit some of the cordiality she’d believed they’d shared when she was younger and a little perplexed but grateful for her new guardian, who also happened to be a real-life prince.
When he would spend an hour or two doing something as simple as sharing space with her as she read in the library.
Or letting her win at chess even though she knew he held near grandmaster status.
He obviously didn’t see her in any way but as an irritating inconvenience.
Her jaw gritted as she forced down a glass of mineral water.
If he wanted to treat her like a client, then she would treat him like a glorified bodyguard. And at last when all this was over, she would break ties with him once and for all.
Feeling better after her meal and even a little grateful for knowing the penthouse’s layout, she headed for the guest room. The last thing she wanted to do was to run into him.
Shutting the door behind her, she undressed and stepped into the shower.
The water was heavenly, and she scrubbed herself from head to toe before shrugging into the fluffy robe hanging on the back of the bathroom door.
Tying the belt, she grimaced when she realised that Valenti hadn’t returned her phone.
For half a second, she contemplated going to his study to demand it back.
But she suspected the outcome of that conversation, and she wasn’t in the mood for it. But then neither was she going to cower away like an unwanted guest.
He may have taken her phone, but she had another way to circumvent that and achieve the necessary task she performed every night before bed.
Leaving the room, she tried to curb her itching need when she passed his study door. This desire to persistently engage with him was something she needed to get over quickly. Setting her lips, she entered the living room and picked up the remote.
A few clicks of the button and she’d accessed the internet and called up the page she was looking for.
Relief pulsed through her when she saw the blank message box.
Assured that nothing untoward had happened since the last check-in, she accessed five more, all with the same result.
She would need to do another check-in in a day or two, but for now she could rest easy.
She was about to click out of it when her senses leapt to life.
‘What the hell do you think you’re doing?’
She spun around, the remote dropping from tingling fingers.
He’d shed his jacket at some point and his sleeves were rolled up, exposing brawny hair-dusted forearms. Against the pristine white shirt, his warm olive complexion made her mouth dry, then flood with a sensation she refused to accept was hunger.
She aimed her gaze over his left shoulder, not giving him the opportunity to see any unwanted emotion in her eyes.
‘What does it look like? And before you jump down my throat, I was using an alias. I have several online personas.’
He muttered a curse under his breath, the brackets around his mouth tightening again, drawing unwilling attention to his strong throat and corded neck as he rounded the large sofa, pulling his phone out of his pocket. ‘You will list every single one of them for me. Right now,’ he breathed.
‘Valenti, I don’t—’
‘I don’t know how else to get through to you that this is not a joke.’ He thrust the phone at her. ‘Right now, Lotte.’
She snatched it out of his hand but didn’t move to do as instructed. ‘I will on one condition.’ His lips parted. Knowing he was about to issue another directive, she rushed in, ‘Promise me you won’t delete them.’
His brows clenched. ‘And why should I make such a promise?’
She swallowed hard, the temptation to tell him eating away at her, but she suppressed it. He didn’t care about anything she did. Never had. To him she was an unwanted burden he couldn’t wait to be rid of.
This part of her life was far too precious, far too private to be exposed to Valenti Domene’s ridicule or indifference.
‘Because they’re harmless. And this can be as simple as me asking you not to do a thing and you deciding not to be a bastard about it.’
His eyes blazed silver fire at her, searing deep, attempting to see to the very heart of her. She held his stare, her heart slamming hard in her throat.
‘You should know better than to think I would accommodate frivolous demands.’
She refused to let him land another sucker punch.
She lifted her chin, resisting the urge to fold her arms defensively as she had before.
Then he’d looked at her with something far too close to pity.
Over her dead body would she let that happen again.
‘I don’t care what you think. This is what I want.
Give me your word and I’ll give you the names. ’
Silence throbbed between them as his eyes drilled deeper.
She wasn’t afraid of what he would find within the little pockets of identity she’d created online.
She’d gone to great lengths to ensure the messages would be indecipherable to anyone but her and their recipients.
If she kept the true nature of those messages to herself, Valenti would not be any wiser.
‘You have my word that as long as nothing poses a danger to you, they will be left alone.’
Relief unknotted her belly. She had to be satisfied with that.
Fingers flying, she typed out the aliases then handed back his phone.
Valenti eyed his screen, as if he could decipher the truth by just looking at the names. Then his eyes lifted to her, the frown still wedged between his dark brows. ‘What the hell are you doing, Lotte?’ he bit out.
She forced a shrug. ‘Nothing you need to concern yourself about.’
His lips parted, but the knock on the door stopped whatever he’d been about to say. ‘We’ll pick this up later. Ada has brought your things.’
Swallowing the nerves building in her at his rabid scrutiny, she nodded.
Another beat passed before he strode to the door, typed in the code and pulled the door open.
Ada and two bodyguards entered carrying several large shopping bags. She followed Ada as she deposited them in the guest room, summoning a smile when the housekeeper turned to examine her.
‘Are you okay, elskan?’
The woman who’d been more like a mother to her since her own mother passed raised her plump hands to cup Lotte’s cheeks. She had to swallow the surge of reactionary tears. ‘I’m fine, Ada. Thank you for doing this.’ She indicated the bags.
‘You know you don’t need to thank me for anything. It’s my pleasure.’
Lotte smiled. ‘Thank you, anyway,’ she said, summoning a tiny laugh that eased the concern in the housekeeper’s eyes.
She started to pull out garments, laying them out in neat piles on the bed. ‘I’m glad the Prince is here. He will sort everything out, you’ll see.’
Lotte pursed her lips to stop herself from saying anything she would regret. At best she would be letting on that Valenti affected her in ways that bewildered and angered her. At worst, she would be bad-mouthing the person Ada clearly idolised and who also signed her pay cheque.
Ada and Leif were dear to her. Despite being elderly and not having much in common with her, their presence had alleviated her profound loneliness.
Lotte couldn’t risk the livelihood of the two people who’d been the most stable in her life since Helga died, with Gunnar more absent than present.
‘I’ll leave you to get ready,’ Ada said when she was finished.
Swallowing the lump crowding her throat, she nodded, and Ada left. About to shut her bedroom door, she froze when Valenti appeared in the doorway.
‘You have half an hour. Pack a suitcase and dress for the cold.’
Before she could ask again where they were going, he spun on his heel and stalked away.
His words echoed in her head as she picked out a variety of gorgeous sweaters, leggings and slacks, cashmere scarves, gloves and woolly hats from the pile. She couldn’t quite throttle the pang of disappointment that pierced her when she guessed they wouldn’t be going to Cartana.
At this time of the year, the Mediterranean kingdom she’d only so briefly been allowed to visit would be bathed in sunshine and balmy temperatures, no thick sweaters and wool scarves needed.
She chose a cashmere sweater in her favourite caramel colour, paired it with dark chocolate leggings, thick socks and a pair of tan boots, then wrapped a snowy white scarf twice around her neck.
Placing a pair of leather gloves on the side, she folded six interchangeable outfits into the small suitcase and tossed in the toiletries Ada had thoughtfully added.
She reached for the handle, then stopped.
She needed a moment to collect herself, to remind herself that all she was doing was using Valenti as a means to an end to her freedom.
She would divorce her feelings from any interaction with him for as long as it took.
Tightening her gut, she wrestled her composure into place and left the room.
He was pacing the living room, his phone glued to his ear.
Contrary to every warning pep talk she’d given herself, her footstep faltered when she saw he’d changed too. His clothes were complementary to hers, except he looked like he’d stepped off the pages of a luxury magazine extolling the virtues of the great winter outdoors.
His turtleneck sweater was a rich, smoky grey paired with dark jeans and boots, and the dark grey coat he’d thrown over it only highlighted the silver in his eyes when he turned at her approach.
A few murmured words and he was hanging up, slotting his phone into his inner pocket before striding forward to take the case from her. Handing it off to one of his guards, he took her elbow.
She refused to admit she was tongue-tied at the jaw-dropping evidence of his rugged masculinity. Refused to admit the restless throbbing between her thighs, the puckering of her nipples and the wild tattoo of her heartbeat as she caught his scent.
She wasn’t a virgin. She knew what her body was telling her.
Perhaps she was caught in that inconvenient hormonal conundrum of denying her body’s needs for so long. Maybe when this was all over, she would go on a date, scratch an itch…
Distaste filled her mouth, and she shook her head to dislodge the thought.
Most of her dates had ended in disappointment, which was why since that one encounter at university, she hadn’t bothered to seriously date anyone.
It was a waste of time and her time was precious.
So no, she would be denying whatever her body was screaming at her.
Just like his fleeting passages through her life, this nonsense sensation too would pass.
Thankful for the emergence of common sense, she stepped into the lift next to him. Was even confident enough to reach for the ground floor button. Only to gasp when Valenti caught her hand.
‘We’re not going downstairs,’ he stated.
Eyes widening, she stared at him. Watched him punch the button for the roof. A handful of seconds later, the door slid open to reveal a sleek black helicopter crouched thirty feet away.
‘Where exactly are we going, Valenti?’ she demanded for the third…fourth time?
His gaze dropped to her and raked over her face for several beats before he answered. ‘I have a cabin fifty miles from here. It’s secluded. No one will find us. Unless we wish them to. It’s where I mean to keep you safe until this inconvenience is over.’
No. No no no.
She stood frozen and he paced a few more steps before he realised she wasn’t following. And predictably, when he turned around, his face was a mask of bridled impatience.
‘Same offer applies, Lotte. Come willingly. Or be carried. Those are your two choices.’
Lotte sucked in a breath—an exercise she seemed to be doing quite poorly tonight—her face burning at the thought of Valenti tossing her over his shoulder again like a sack of grain.
Remember you’re just his client. He would order every one of them about just like this. The reminder had the curious twin effects of bolstering and bruising as she started walking on even shakier legs towards the aircraft whose rotors were slowly spinning into life.
But Lotte couldn’t stop the feeling that if she could’ve wished for anything at all in the world, she would’ve wished to not be secluded in a cabin with Valenti. Because she sensed her armour was about to be severely tested.
Still she took one step. Then another. Her senses screaming at her as she followed him to the open doors of the chopper.