Page 122 of Modern Romance January 2025 1-4

‘Dinner?’ Laurena almost spluttered, then caught herself, reverting to the professional visage she usually represented. ‘What time?’

Rosie’s cheeks flushed. She opted for eight o’clock. Late enough to increase the likelihood he might spend the night.

‘At the palace?’

She considered that too. It would make sense for him to come here, yet something inside of her rejected that idea. He’d said he hated it here—his home was therefore an easier option. And deep down, there was a part of Rosie that relished the thought of being somewhere other than here too.

‘On second thought, tell Sebastian I’d like to joinhimfor dinner.’

‘Of course, Your Highness. Shall I lay out any particular outfit for you?’

Rosie considered that. He’d called her prim, and it had raised her hackles, but what choice did she have? There were strict protocols around how to dress as a princess of Cavalonia. She could hardly turn up at his house in a slinky dress and stiletto heels.

Unless...

A smile tilted her lips as she shook her head absentmindedly. ‘Leave it with me. Thank you, Laurena,’ she dismissed, wondering at the way her pulse was suddenly erratic.

Sebastian was torn. He didn’t particularly like being dictated to by anyone, let alone Rosalind, and yet, he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t looking forward to seeing her again.

He poured himself a small measure of Scotch and cradled it in the palm of his hand as his clock struck eight. His body tensed in anticipation. His mind raced.

Dinner was not a proposition, and yet it was promising.

Promising?

How had his feelings towards his wife changed so much in seventy-two hours? He had disliked her three days ago. And he still did. She was manipulative, power hungry and worshipped the ground his grandfather walked on.

Or was it that his grandfather clearly loved Rosalind, whereas he had dropped Sebastian like a hot potato? Probably a bit of both. He wasn’t someone to give in to jealousy, and yet he’d felt it. Rejection. Surprise. That he’d been so clearly usurped, the place of beloved grandchild taken by someone who was not even related to the king.

He still despised her, he reassured himself. He just desired her, as well. And desire he was familiar with; desire he could control—he had many years of experience with that.

None of this was a problem.

With that reassurance, he threw back the Scotch and allowed himself to enjoy the anticipation of seeing her again, and stripping away those defences of hers, one pleasurable encounter at a time, until she was eating out of the palm of his hand...

CHAPTER FOUR

ITHADBEENeasy to feel confident as she’d come up with this scheme, but now that she was here in Sebastian’s living room, that confidence was in short supply. As was her belief in what she was about to suggest.

Or rather, agree to.

She fidgeted with her fingers, aware that it was by far her least regal habit, something the king had repeatedly tried to make her stop doing. She had become more adept at hiding the gesture, but now she surrendered to it completely.

Was he enjoying keeping her waiting? Was this a game he was playing?

More than likely.

Just because they’d shared a passionate kiss didn’t mean he’d changed. He was still arrogant, rude, disrespectful: the last man on earth she could bring herself tolike. Which was wonderful. Just wonderful! Because it meant she was at no risk of losing her heart, no matter how overwhelming their desire was. What a safe crush to nurture!

‘Wife.’

She ground her teeth. ‘Husband.’

His grin lit a fire in her blood, a fire she was determined to control. She blinked away as she stood, regretting her outfit selection now. Beneath the three-quarter length wool coat she wore was a dress she’d bought whilst dating Robert. Then, she’d simply been working for the king and there had been no expectation surrounding how she dressed in her own time. Nor had there been a hint of paparazzi interest in her comings and goings, no likelihood that a photo of her in an outfit like this might appear on the front pages of the tabloids the following day.

He stepped towards her, eyes locked to hers, and she held her breath. Was he going to kiss her? To say hello?

Did she want him to?

---