Page 10 of Crowning His Innocent Assistant

Oh, that had been a study in torture.

That was when she had learned about desire, and desiring a man. In Matteo’s untouchable, awe-inspiring presence. He was across a room from her but may as well have been in another galaxy.

Men, in her experience, had been sources of fear. But there, with his stunning male beauty on display, she’d learned that there was more to men.

And as a result, her feelings on the matter had taken root deep inside of her and refused to let go. She did not have an attraction to men in general.

She had one to him.

But she was in Paris. She should be able to find a rakish, disheveled-looking man who was dangerously handsome and looking for nothing more than a good time. A man who could teach her that any man’s body would do so long as it conformed roughly with her aesthetic preference.

Thinking about that seemed laughable with Matteo standing there.

She blinked once, very hard, just to make sure that he wasn’t a hallucination of some kind.

He was still there.

“Paris?” His lip curled. “I did not take you for a romantic, Mouse.”

She crossed her arms and fixed him with her most formidable glare, over the rims of her glasses. “I didn’t take you for a stalker, Matteo.”

“Are we on a first-name basis again? It was all very Your Majesty the day you left.”

She lifted her chin. “I no longer work for you. Not only that, I’m no longer in your country.”

“Your country as well.”

“Not really.” She thought again of her people, who she endeavored to not think of overly much. But she had been. Had she ever truly been part of the country?

“You have emigrated, then?”

“Clearly.” She sniffed. “What are you doing here?”

“I’ve come to collect you.” He looked around the space, disdain writ large in his expression. “Your tantrum is unwelcome.”

“Oh, it’s not a tantrum. It’s called moving, I see it.”

“That is not how I see it.” He walked farther into the room. “In fact, I take a dim view.”

“I hate to break it to you, but you do not make the rules of the universe. You do not get to decide what I feel.”

He leveled his disdainful gaze onto her now. “You are acting like a child.”

“I’m acting like a child? You’ve chased me down across country lines to bother me more about a question I gave you a definitive answer to. Not even a question,” she said, laughing in spite of herself. “You truly are an arrogant bastard.”

“Not a bastard. Legitimate. Arrogant, maybe, but not a bastard.”

“I meant in the colloquial sense.”

His eyes went sharp. “What will it take?”

“What?”

“What will it take to get you to agree to be my bride? There is a price for everything,” he said, taking a step toward her. “If you don’t, I’ll believe you’re holding out for a better bargain...”

“I am doing no such thing,” she said, horror stealing through her. “I am not in the market to trade my body for anything.”

“I’m not suggesting you become the palace whore, Mouse, I am suggesting you become my wife.”

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