Page 34 of Revelations of A Secret Princess

She’d already decided she needed to handle this carefully. If he was bombarded with it all at once, especially with her father’s henchmen battering at the door, he wouldn’t take it well. He’d see her as the enemy, here to take Ariane from him any way she could. He was as likely to hand her to her father’s goons as keep her from them.

Caro turned and paced, torn between distress and fury. There was something about all this she didn’t understand. That final threat of her father’s hadn’t been simply because she’d annoyed him.

‘It’s vital we present a united front... The wedding is important.’

She knew enough about her father to understand he wasn’t concerned about her brother’s love life. It wasn’t a love match but an arranged marriage. Why was her father so adamant they all be there, smiling and putting on a good show?

Caro shook her head. No time for that now. She had to figure out what to do. Unfortunately, she realised as she considered it from every angle, she didn’t have a choice. Not if she wanted a chance to discuss Ariane’s future calmly with Jake without her father interfering.

Jake strode the corridor towards his office. It was early but after a night of little sleep he might as well start work. The consortium he was trying to entice into this project was proving difficult to pin down. He needed to concentrate on that rather than Caro.

The woman perplexed him, intrigued and attracted him. He couldn’t recall responding to any woman like this. Not even Fiona, his ex-lover, the woman he’d fleetingly considered as a possible spouse.

Every time he thought he had Caro pegged she surprised him. She awakened a host of unexpected feelings.

He turned a corner and slammed to a halt. There, silhouetted against the window, was Caro near the door to his office.

Jake recalled the feel of her slender body curving into his, the baffling intensity of the emotions she’d evoked and the less puzzling arousal. Then she’d worn next to nothing. Now she was in one of her drab skirt and jacket sets, in a colour that reminded him of mud. And still excitement throbbed in his blood.

She stared at a painting on the wall, the early sunlight limning her profile. Jake told himself she wasn’t stunning the way some of his lovers had been, yet there was something about that pure profile, the angle of her chin, the neat curve of her ear and that long slender neck that drew his eye.

She moved and he caught a glint of russet in her brown hair. It reminded him of the fire that ignited in his belly last night. And of the volatile, passionate woman who’d turned to flame when he’d kissed and caressed her.

Heat punched low. All night he’d struggled against the need to go to her room.

To check if she was okay, he reasoned.

To take up where they’d left off, he knew.

Only the depth of her hurt had stopped him.

Caro swung around. Had she heard the sudden heft of his breath? Her eyes widened.

It was back, that pulsing heat. She bit her lip and he absorbed the fact she looked nervous, no, more than that. Scared. She swivelled back to the painting, fingers plaiting restlessly before her.

Her fear made him hesitate. Shecouldn’tbe scared of him.

‘You like it?’ Jake asked as he neared, forcing himself to look at the picture. He’d barely paid any attention to it. In the flood of morning light he discovered the face of a sombre man holding a globe and surrounded by maps and papers.

Caro shrugged and he noticed the movement was stiff, as if her shoulders were too tight.

Was she self-conscious after last night? He couldn’t blame her, yet he wanted to make her turn and look at him.

‘It’s...interesting. At least four hundred years old.’ She spoke quickly as if to fill the silence. As if nervous. ‘I can’t work out what it’s doing here, in the direct sunlight. It should be in a protected position.’

‘Maybe it’s a copy.’ Jake knew little about art and, though the castle’s owner had provided an inventory, he hadn’t looked at it. He was here to work, and build a relationship with Ariane, not stare at paintings.

Caro shook her head. ‘Unlikely.’ She bent closer. ‘Highly unlikely.’

‘You know old paintings?’ If he’d been watching the portrait instead of her he would have missed her flinch.

‘I studied art history.’ She darted a sideways glance that didn’t meet his eyes.

‘I don’t remember that on your résumé.’

She lifted one shoulder. ‘I didn’t finish and it didn’t seem relevant.’

True, but Jake wanted to know more. Much more.

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