Chapter 2
two
GAbrIEL
Fake smile, nod, shake hands, small talk, etc., etc., etc. It was the same at every one of these events though no one would be able to see it; his political poker face was among the best.
He’d lost count of the number of single women who had curtsied to him. He’d only asked a few to dance so far, though his father, who was standing a feet away from him, clearly wanted him to put more of an effort in. But he wasn’t going to rush things, no matter what his father wanted.
Gabriel’s new chief of staff, Corrado, stood behind him, whispering who the next person would be to greet him. Yet, this time he barely heard him as he saw a silver dress catching the light, then caught sight of a long, pale back as a woman finished curtsying to his father, then his mother.
Corrado cleared his throat and Gabriel refocused on the woman in front of him, a beautiful brown woman in pink wearing an amused smile.
“Your Highness.” She curtsied, then glanced over at the woman in silver. “I see my friend has caught your eye.”
“How do you do?” he said, leaving out her name because he had missed Corrado saying it to him. “Yes, it’s quite a dress.”
“Her name’s Genevieve Ruffin. You should ask her to dance.”
Genevieve? Hmmm.
Was this woman always this forward? He didn’t mind it, especially if she gave him more information about Genevieve. “I will. However, I’d also like to dance with you.”
Her smile broadened. “I’d be delighted.” She leaned a little forward, and Gabriel followed. “I should warn you that, while Genevieve will accept your dance, she won’t be happy with it.”
On that intriguing note, she curtsied again and moved down the reception line.
As Genevieve approached, Corrado whispered her information, despite the fact he was sure to have overheard his conversation with her friend. “Miss Genevieve Ruffin, eldest daughter of the late Peter Ruffin, who was a former Minister of Education until his death.”
She met his eyes as she approached. Being a prince, people either avoided meeting his eyes, or they looked directly at him, usually out of curiosity. Yet, with her, he felt as if she were trying to rush through this tedious protocol to move on with her evening.
Hmmm….
“Your Highness.” Her voice was warmer and a little deeper than he’d expected from a woman who seemed like a fairy with her pale skin and blonde hair and shimmering silver clothes.
“Miss Ruffin. How do you do?”
“I’m well, Your Highness. Thank you.”
As she shifted to step down the line, he blurted out, “Do you enjoy balls like this, Miss Ruffin?”
She looked slightly disappointed, but it seemed her political smile was nearly as good as his. “At times, Your Highness.”
“Then perhaps I can ensure you enjoy this one. May I have a dance later?”
She pursed her lips and he wondered if she’d actually say no, but she merely smiled again. “Of course. I’d be honoured, Your Highness.”
He took her hand and kissed the back of it. A rakish move to be sure, but he couldn’t help it. “I look forward to it.”
He caught her quick intake of breath, but in the next moment wondered if he’d imagined it.
This time when she curtsied and stepped away, he let her go.
But he’d have his hands on her again soon enough.
GENEVIEVE
Gen watched Sam and Cary on the dance floor while she slowly sipped her wine. They seemed to be enjoying themselves, though she thought Sam might enjoy herself more if Cary stopped trying to grab her ass every other second.
Sighing, Gen put down the glass and reached for her plate. She always loaded up on food at these events, since food could be scarce at times at home. Her mother either forgot or chose to spend their grocery budget on keeping up appearances instead.
So far, Gen had danced with three men, none of them very promising as husband material.
One would not stop talking about his yacht, the second was also an ass-grabber, while the third didn’t even bother with niceties and flat out asked her if she had any drugs and would she take sex for a hit of them?
Maybe this was the wrong crowd. Would she really find someone kind here, among the rich and ruthless? She had no desire to marry a narcissist either. She already lived with two and had no desire to live with another she then also had to fuck for the rest of her life. Maybe she should try—
“It’s time for our dance, is it not?”
She jumped slightly and her plate wobbled at the sound of his deep voice. Damn, she’d been too caught up in her own thoughts to see him coming. She gave a hasty curtsy.
Prince Gabriel held out his hand with a smile. “Shall we?”
She nodded and set down her plate, then drank the rest of her wine in three gulps before she took his hand.
“Is the prospect of dancing with me so terrifying that you needed liquid courage to do it?”
“Not at all.” Even walking with the prince, heads began turning in their direction. She plastered a smile on her face. “I’m not terrified of you, Your Highness.”
“Oh? Then why?”
Since she couldn’t very well say what was on her mind—that she was depressed by her prospects, and by the thought of going home even though that place wasn’t really a home to her and she never felt safe there, and she probably had something in her teeth and the wine helped wash that down, but maybe she still had something in her teeth and people would see it and he would see it and she’d make a fool of herself, and her prospects would get even worse, and her mother would somehow find out, and then—
“Miss Ruffin?”
She took a deep breath as they took their position on the dance floor. “I merely wanted to finish my drink, Your Highness, that’s all.”
His eyebrows rose ever so slightly. If she hadn’t been avoiding looking directly in his eyes, she might have missed it.
Couples took their place on the dance floor, but gave them a wide berth. She caught the eye of a man she had met at some other party weeks ago—Luke maybe? She gave him a small smile and a nod, and he glanced at the prince’s back before giving her a smile in return.
“Am I so boring, Miss Ruffin?”
“Hmmm?” She looked up at him. Why was he so tall? Why was she so short? Even in heels, the top of her head barely met his chin.
As the music began—The Second Waltz—he clasped her hand and slid the other over her hip and to the small of her back. His glove slid over the thin material of her dress to the exposed skin of her back, and she shivered despite herself.
She hated the smug look on his face, hated that she’d reacted to him and that he knew it.
She glanced back at Luke, only to find his smile gone and his gaze focused on the prince’s hand at her back.
Damn it. This fucking prince was going to ruin all her plans.