Page 9 of Claiming His Virgin Princess

‘Okay. Tell me, Noah...’ She paused on his name and he wondered if she enjoyed saying it. It was the first time he’d heard it on her lips and he liked her sudden huskiness. ‘Something you’ve done recently that made you happy.’

He took a drink while he considered. Beside him Ilsa put her glass down, shifted in her seat and rested her palm on her stomach.

He thought of the fantastic deal he’d just made with a consortium of French companies. That had made him smile. Then he remembered laughing out loud just two days ago when his brother’s family had visited him here.

‘Easy. Spending time with my nephew. He’s thirteen and full of energy. Let him near a windsurfer or paddleboard, or give him a chance to beat me at his new computer game and he’s happy.’

‘It sounds like you get on well.’

‘We’re similar types. Lots of energy and drive.’ He paused. ‘So, Ilsa, why are you here in Monaco?’

It was hard to tell in the dark but, holding her hand, he sensed her tension.

‘The simple answer or the complicated one?’ she said eventually.

‘Both.’

‘That counts as two questions.’

She shifted as if getting more comfortable and he caught a hint of the scent that had tantalised him as they danced. Light and citrusy. His breath quickened.

‘So be it.’ The sooner they finished the sooner they’d be naked together.

‘The simple answer is that paparazzi can’t operate in Monaco.’

‘Ah.’ Maybe he was wrong. Maybe what he’d thought on the dock to be nerves was just the wariness of a woman expecting to be spied on wherever she went. He’d looked her up online yesterday and knew she’d been targeted by the paparazzi recently. He felt sorry for her. And curious about the truth of what had happened between her and her two ex-fiancés.

‘And the complicated answer?’

Her fingers twitched in his hold and he was acutely conscious of the slow breath she drew in, her breasts rising tantalisingly in his peripheral vision. Noah stifled the need to turn and survey her. Maybe the darkness and freedom from scrutiny would encourage her to share more.

He guessed she found it challenging, sharing something personal. Noah understood that. He was the same. Yet he felt tonight as if the usual barriers had come down.

‘What’s said aboard stays aboard, Ilsa. I don’t break confidences, just as I don’t expect you to break mine. But I don’t want you uncomfortable. If I’ve asked something too private...’ Even if he wanted to know everything about her. ‘We can—’

‘No, it’s fine. I’m just not sure I can put it into words. Though it might be good to talk about it.’

She threaded her fingers through his and Noah basked in her willingness to trust him. It was amazing how important that felt.

‘You probably know about my broken engagement.’

He turned his head, catching the glint of her bright eyes in the gloom.

‘I heard you’d called off your wedding.’

‘Thank you.’ She swung round to face him fully and even in the dark he felt a slam of heat as her eyes met his.

‘What for?’

‘Acknowledging I was involved in the decision. I should be used to the press by now, but I’m sick of being painted as some pathetic victim whom Lucien wronged! It was a joint decision and we were both relieved when it was over.’

Interesting. So she wasn’t longing for her ex-fiancé. But what about his cousin, who’d been King before Lucien? Ilsa had been engaged to him until his sudden death in a road accident. Did she carry a torch for him?

Noah frowned, his hold tightening on her hand. She was free now but he didn’t like the idea of her yearning for some lost love. He wanted her attention on him!

Ego, Carson. She only met you tonight.

Yet logic didn’t come into this. It was amazing how proprietorial he felt about this woman. How inevitable it felt touching her, knowing that soon now they’d be naked together.

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