The Prince's Mistress by Day Leclaire

Author:Day Leclaire [Leclaire, Day]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2011-02-13T18:30:00+00:00

21

THE PRINCE’S MISTRESS

DAY LECLAIRE

SILHOUETTE DESIRE 1786

THE ROYALS

“It’s not enough.”

“It’ll have to be.”

She ended the discussion by vanishing into the bathroom, emerging a short time later wearing her clothes from the night

before. She’d somehow managed to tame her hair, ruthlessly knotting it at the nape of her neck. In her business suit, all neatly tucked

and buttoned, she looked every inch the self-possessed professional. Lander took one look at her and all he could think about was

freeing that glorious mane and rumpling her tidy suit until he’d released the heart of passion that beat within the woman of calm

reason standing before him.

“I’ll send a car for you tonight,” he said.

She caught her lower lip between her teeth. “Maybe we should take a night off. I’m getting behind on my work and—”

“Your work isn’t going anywhere.”

“No, it isn’t,” she conceded. “But the children are hurt by any delay.”

Hell. She’d gotten him with that one. “I wouldn’t want that. Are you certain I can’t give you a ride?”

“Thank you, no.”

He could hear the unspoken “Your Highness” in her tone, the polite curtsy buried within her words. His hands folded into

fists. “I’ll call you. If we can’t see each other, you can at least take five minutes to talk.”

She attempted a smile, but he caught the faint wobble and realized she wasn’t anywhere near as in control as she’d like to

pretend. He took a step in her direction intent on breaking through the vestiges of that control, but she flung up a hand, stopping him at

the last second.

“Don’t.” Her voice broke on the word. She shot a swift, hunted glance toward the door. “Please let me go.”

It wasn’t what either of them wanted. He could change her mind with a single touch, but he didn’t have the heart to stop

her, to hurt her any more than she was already hurting. “I’ll call you later,” he repeated, more forcefully this time, and stepped aside.

She broke for the door, snatching up her purse as she went. He didn’t waste any time. Dressing as swiftly as she, he made a

beeline for the elevator. Juliana was already gone, but had sent the elevator back up for him. He shook his head as he stepped inside

and stabbed the button for the garage.

He found her fascinating. Passionate. Kind. Wary. Like a wild creature in need of help, but fearful of becoming trapped. He

could sympathize. Soon she’d discover they were both trapped in a situation not of their making, one with only a single solution. He

fingered the ring he’d taken from the museum. It weighed heavily in his pocket. It was time to end this nonsense once and for all, he

decided. Time to spring the trap.

He commandeered the car from the previous night and started it with a roar. Pulling out of the garage, he turned onto the

street fronting the apartment complex. To his surprise, a crowd had gathered there. He glanced over as he passed, and what he saw had

him slamming on his brakes and screeching to a halt.

Damn it to hell! Someone had sprung the trap ahead of him.

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