Chapter 7 #2
"I apologize for not following up," Antoinette said stiffly. "I suppose it's one of several reasons you have to let me go."
"Pardon?"
"I did something unforgivable and I don't expect you to keep me on."
"My dear, what on earth are you talking about?"
Antoinette felt hope flare inside her chest and then die. Obviously she did not know what had transpired between her and Tomas. "I left."
"You did, yes. And you think that's grounds for dismissal? I thought we had some sort of relationship by now."
Antoinette felt the emotions raging through her body.
"I have something to tell you, I..."
"You and Tomas had an altercation again. He told me about it. As a matter of fact, he said it was his fault. He went looking for you."
She gaped at the queen. "He what?"
"He blamed himself for once again upsetting you.
So, he went looking for you." The phone started ringing again.
"Now I will not hear this nonsense about you leaving.
I left some files on your desk and would like you to sort them out as soon as possible.
" She looked up at the knock on the door.
"Ah, refreshments. Just what we needed."
*****
She was veering from exhaustion to exhilaration and just wanted to curl up on her bed and sleep for several hours.
She was not fired. She still had her job, a job she really liked.
The prince had not said a word to his mother, her employer.
Antoinette supposed she owed him for that much.
But nothing more. And she hoped fervently that she did not have to see him in the near future.
She was going to forget what happened between them and move on.
She would!
But just now, she wanted a nice long hot bath and then her bed and a glass of wine. In that order.
"Oh, Carmen, you don't need to bother with me tonight. I'm just going to draw my own bath and just lie in it for a while."
"I'm afraid that's not going to be possible, Senorita Antoinette," the woman told her, moving towards the closet.
"The queen sent me up to tell you that there's a change of plans.
Some delegates came in unexpectedly and she's hosting a dinner party.
She wants you down in the dining room at eight.
" She glanced at her watch. "Which gives me two hours to get you nice and presentable. "
"Oh, but..."
"She said to tell you that this was part of your job, and she would really appreciate you being there. It's important."
"Great." Antoinette saw her well-ordered and quiet evening going up in smoke. "Did she say if, did she say who else would be there?"
The woman threw her a puzzled glance.
"Okay, don't answer that." Blowing out a breath, she started to strip.
*****
"You look wonderful," Queen Sofia told her warmly, holding out both hands to take hers. "That color blue is so great against your skin tone. I knew you wanted to go straight to bed, but these associates came in unexpectedly."
"I understand completely."
"And your hair. You have such luxuriant tresses. Let me introduce you."
He wasn't here. The tension around her heart eased as the evening progressed. They had drinks in the elegant tea room before moving into the dining room.
She was laughing at something one of the men from Greece said to her when she felt the tension at the back of her neck returning. Before the person called out to him in greeting, she knew he had entered the room.
Steeling herself to continue to listen to the conversation of her dinner companion, she forced herself not to look around.
That was until he sat right across from her. She felt his eyes on her but kept her eyes on her companion. She was just going to finish the meal and plead a headache and run for her rooms.
With that plan in mind, she felt better.
Waiting for the right moment, she waited until the plates were cleared and they were getting up. She was hastily saying her goodbyes to the group of men when he came over.
Speaking in fluent Greek, he charmingly asked to be excused and thanked them for coming.
Clamping a hand firmly on her arm, he started to guide her out.
"Stop. Let go of my arm," she hissed.
"People are watching us," he told her in a low voice. "I usually do not like scenes, but right now, I would not mind it one bit."
"What do you want?"
"Not here. We have an audience." She looked up to see a maid coming down the hallway.
When he pushed a pair of glossy red oak doors open, she stiffened. It was a large library that she had used to look up some research on a project she had been in charge of.
Her chance of escaping was quickly blocked when he just stood there leaning on the doors, his arms folded on his chest.
"Say what you have to say and let me get out of here."
"You're still angry."
"What gave it away?"
"I came looking for you."
"I never asked you to."
"You look lovely."
She bristled. "You can take your compliments and shove them..."
"And your language hasn't improved, I see.
" He was determined to stay calm. She was prickly, the most irritable woman he had ever had the misfortune to meet.
But she was under his skin. Like a bloody burr and it hurt like the living hell.
He wished he could yank it out, but he couldn't and God help him, he did not want to.
"Well? Is that all you have to say?"
"You have quite a mouth on you." Straightening, he started towards her. Pride alone kept her rooted to the spot, even though her heart was quaking and her knees were shaking.
"Stay away from me," she warned.
"Or what?" He stopped in front of her. "Going to run again?"
"What do you want?" She thought if she resorted to insults, it would send him packing.
"Want to see what it feels like to screw the help?
Are you so jaded with your own kind that you want to dip into the forbidden pool?
Why not try one of the maids? I suggest Maria.
She's young and pretty and cannot stop sighing after you.
Or even Rosa, she's also young, pretty, and available. There's also..."
"Be quiet." His deep voice was authoritative, stopping her in her tracks.
"You don't..."
"Just be quiet." When he lifted his hands, she took a step back, but he grabbed her hair, fingers sinking into the wavy strands. "I went tearing after you." He backed her towards the desk, body pressing on hers.
He had walked into the dining room and as crowded as it had been, he had had eyes only for her.
The dimples in her cheeks as she laughed at whatever that clown was saying to her.
He had identified the strange emotion raging inside him.
Desire warring with jealousy. He had seen the man's eyes veering to her chest, the swell of her breasts over the top of her dress and he had almost marched over there to rearrange his face.
It had frightened him. The intensity and strangeness of it all.
"You infuriate me. I should stay the bloody hell away from you. But I can't." His voice thickened. "I told myself that this is not a good idea. I should leave you alone."
"Please do. Let go of me."
"I can't." He sounded bewildered and frustrated. His hands wrapped around her neck, tugging at her hair to lift her face towards his.
"Don't you dare!" She managed before he crushed his lips to hers. She struggled, telling herself that she did not want this. That the heat pouring through her was from anger. That she was angry and that she hated him.
But she was lying to herself.
"Kiss me back," he groaned. "You know you want to. Kiss me back, damn you."
She kept her lips clamped together and almost cried out in a panic when he changed tactics.
His lips softened, the tip of his tongue soothing her bottom lip.
She was losing the battle and they both knew it.
When he nipped gently on the flesh, she gasped, giving him access to her mouth.
As soon as that happened, he plunged his tongue in, tasting the intoxicating flavor of the wine she had imbibed at supper.
He was drunk on her and it was not the vintage.
It was purely her. One hand came around her waist as he brought her flush against his rigid arousal.
He swallowed her moans, his tongue exploring her mouth.
He wanted her like he had never wanted another living soul before. His blood was boiling, his heart racing.
His hand roamed up and down her back restlessly, fingers clenching in the back of her dress as he took the kiss deeper and longer. She was addictive, completely taking him over. He wanted her. Right now, he wanted her in his bed, here on the sofa or on the carpet.
Lifting his head, he trailed kisses along her cheek and then her neck, before going back to claim her lips.
Reason surfaced at long last. She surfaced from the wonderful haze of desire that was wrapped around her. She felt weak and disoriented, her body raging out of control. She pushed at him, but he wouldn't budge. He held her tight, his breathing harsh, his body pulsing with need.
"We want each other," he whispered harshly. "You cannot deny what is happening between us."
"You better damn well believe that's exactly what I'm going to do." She pushed at him again. "I'm seeing someone!"
"Who?"
"That's none of your damn business. I'm seeing someone..."
"That jackass from the gallery?" he scoffed.
Her eyes blazed. "He might not be a prince or have half your looks, but he's a decent guy and I happen to like him. I hate you."
"You want me."
"I want a private plane, but that's beside the point. Now please let go of me."
"I want you in my bed," he growled.
"Yes." She nodded. "And you're used to getting what you want, because you're shallow and entitled." She shoved and this time he let her go. "Stay away from me."