She saw him and stopped abruptly, mid-move. She marched towards the doorway to exit the room and shut the door firmly behind her, as if she could expunge the memory of what he’d seen.

Certain it was seared on his memory for ever, Leo ached to see more.

‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I suppose I should have been looking for useful things, but it’s just—’

‘That you dance,’ he said, almost in wonder.

She shot him a wary glance. ‘Something like that.’

‘And that open space called to you?’ Leo tipped his chin in the direction of the ballroom.

‘Well, yes.’ Her expression was guarded but her eyes glittered through the gloom.

‘I’m the same when the wind is fair and the lake calls to me. I just want to be out there sailing.’ He smiled down on her. ‘It feels like flying.’

She studied him, and he could tell he’d surprised her. She apparently knew as little about him as he knew of her.

With a swift move she slipped round him to start off across the hallway. ‘Let’s hope you’re better at that than you are flying for real,’ she said, perhaps trying to deflect the attention from her. He ignored her teasing.

‘It was very beautiful,’ he said to her back.

She flung a glance over her shoulder. The tiara glinted at him, the gaudy cheerleader dress with its pleated skirt revealing so much leg. She was a tiny punk ballerina and he wanted to watch her move again.

‘Will you dance for me later?’

‘Absolutely not. Apart from my tutors, I don’t dance for anyone else.’

That struck him as tragic because he’d glimpsed something that was beyond simple beauty.

She’d disappeared back through the service entrance.

On a sigh Leo set off after her. This woman was drawing more from him than he’d ever expected.

Violetta’s heart raced. No one had ever seen her dance. No one.

When Leo arrived in the kitchen, he looked at her as if she were a conundrum he’d just solved, and with a warmth in his gaze that sent an answering heat coiling in her belly.

‘So why do you never dance for an audience?’ he asked, continuing a conversation she’d hoped they’d ended. ‘You’re a gifted dancer.’

‘It’s not about that. It’s...’

He’d thrown the light switch in the kitchen and now they were out of the shadows she could see what he was wearing.

She stared at him. ‘Out of everything up there, that’s what you chose?’

His choice of ‘costume’ was a white collarless shirt and formal black trousers. Identical to what he’d been wearing before they were both drenched.

‘So I’m dressed as a cheerleader with a ballet addiction and you’re dressed as what? Yourself?’

‘It’s appropriate,’ he said.

‘There’s no one else here to see you but me. Can’t you let your hair down a little?’

He looked as if she’d suggested he prance naked along his castle battlements. Violetta shook her head at him. ‘It’s all true, isn’t it? You really don’t have a fun side.’

‘There isn’t much time for fun when you’re the leader of a country.’

‘You’re not a leader here. We’re just two people stuck in this house together. Surely you could relax a bit.’