Captured by the Billionaire: Brooding Billionaire, Impoverished Princess
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‘I don’t know of anyone who likes losing,’ he said thoughtfully. ‘I certainly don’t.’
It could have been a warning, but she was oddly warmed by his considered response. It seemed to indicate a relaxation of the formidable authority she found so intimidating.
She said, ‘It must be a characteristic of the men in your family. Kelt and Gerd are both win-at-all-costs men.’
‘Do you think so?’ He frowned. ‘We like to win—we work hard at doing just that—but I wouldn’t have said that any of us see victory as a goal worth achieving no matter what the cost.’
For once she’d let her tongue run away with her. ‘I overstated the case,’ she agreed. ‘Winning is important to them, though.’
‘And to the men in your family too, I understand. So do you think your brother has any chance of getting back the Montevel throne?’ he asked, his tone unchanged.
Stunned, Serina stared at him. He was watching her closely, and something about his total lack of expression chilled her. She asked incredulously, ‘What on earth are you talking about?’
‘Come on, Princess, surely you knew your brother and a bunch of other exiled Montevellans are plotting to regain the throne?’
They had stopped at the elevator that led to the penthouse. As she stepped inside, Serina’s brain came up with the answer and she started to laugh.
‘You’re talking about their computer game, aren’t you?’
‘Is that what it is?’ His tone was neutral, at variance with his probing gaze, hard as quartz.
He pressed the button and the elevator whooshed upwards, leaving her stomach behind. ‘How did you hear about it?’ she asked.
‘News gets around.’
She frowned. ‘They’ll be worried about that. Doran said the gaming world is really cut-throat, and they don’t want anyone to know what they’re working on until it’s ready for production.’ She looked up at Alex. ‘Do you have any interests in that area?’
‘No,’ he said bluntly. ‘And I think you’ve just insulted me. Even if I did have a financial interest in the creation of video games, I wouldn’t steal other people’s ideas.’
Serina flushed. This man had a seriously weakening effect on her normal good manners, and his reputation for integrity gave Serina no reason to disbelieve him.
Nevertheless, she asked, ‘How did you get to hear about it? Doran only told me about it because I was angry at the amount of time he was spending on the computer, and even then he swore me to secrecy. He said they were all being really close-mouthed about it.’
‘Tell me about this game,’ Alex said dryly.
When she hesitated he continued with a flick of hauteur, ‘Of course, if you think I can’t be trusted—’
‘I’m sure you can be,’ Serina said, making up her mind, and rather glad to confide in someone. ‘It started just before the end of last year. One of Doran’s friends is an ardent game player, and apparently when they were talking about Montevel one night he thought of using Montevel itself, and the idea of restoring the monarchy, as the basis for a world-building game. They’ve all become fascinated by it.’ Her smile was a little lopsided. ‘Partly because they hope that if it takes off they’ll become instant millionaires. Doran’s had a lot of fun working out what he’ll do with his share.’
Alex lifted an eyebrow. ‘And that is?’
‘Sail around the world in a super yacht to all the really good diving spots,’ she told him wryly.
‘So what’s your part in it?’
The elevator stopped and the doors slid open. She said, ‘None—unless you count nagging Doran about staying up all night when he’s working out more tricks and turns to the game. His latest idea is the introduction of a nest of vampires in the mountains on the border of Carathia and Montevel.’
Alex unlocked the door to the penthouse. Should she tell him she was starting to get seriously concerned about Doran’s obsession with the game?
No. Loyalty to her brother and a lifetime of keeping her own counsel warned her to stay silent.
Alex stood back to let her into the apartment. She walked through into the living room and stopped by the window, looking out at the view.
The sounds of the city were muted by the glass and the wide terrace outside and, although she couldn’t see Alex, she could feel his presence behind her.
It was thanks to Alex that her brother was in Vanuatu—and she hoped he was enjoying himself so much that when he came back the game would no longer have such a grip on him.
Alex said evenly, ‘So it’s just a fantasy war game concocted by a group of kids brought up on stories of the good old days in Montevel?’
Serina turned. Her heart missed a beat. He was watching her mouth and a glint in the dark, unreadable blue of his eyes set her pulse skyrocketing.
‘What else could it be?’ Her voice shook a little, and her hands were too tightly folded—almost clenched at her sides. Deliberately, she relaxed them, producing a coolly amused smile. ‘Has someone been feeding you stories of a bunch of battle-hardened revolutionaries?’
Something about Alex’s answering smile—a hint of ruthlessness—sent tiny cold shivers down her spine.
But his voice was calm and reasonable. ‘One of my security men heard something about their activities—but didn’t realise it was a video game. Because Montevel is on Gerd’s borders, he knew I’d be interested.’
‘Ah, I see.’ So had he offered the trip to Vanuatu—and this holiday to her—so he could find out what he wanted to know?
The suggestion had no right to hurt, but it did. She said crisply, ‘Then you’ll be able to reassure him—and Gerd, because I’m sure you’ve told him about it—that it’s just a group of romantic kids play-acting rather obsessively.’
He said, ‘But you’re worried about it.’
Infusing her tone with a false lightness, Serina evaded, ‘Irritated, actually. Doran’s spending far too much time working at it—time he should be studying. I’m hoping this diving trip will give him something else to think about.’
‘From the tone of your voice, I’d say you’ve quarrelled about it.’
He saw too much. ‘I have to admit I was glad when you suggested the trip to Doran. The time he’s spending on the game is showing in his college results.’ She hesitated before adding, ‘I’ve read about young people who become addicted to video gaming…’
‘Playing the games, not creating them,’ Alex said levelly.
‘That’s true,’ she conceded, feeling a little foolish and over-protective, ‘and Doran is inclined to be very one-tracked with every new interest. It’s just that this one has lasted a lot longer than any other.’
She smiled up at him. ‘But, as for him and his friends being any sort of threat to Carathia or Montevel—no, they’re not that far removed from reality, even if they have made grandiose plans for spending the money when they all become instant millionaires! They’re all bright young men—’
‘Bright young men of Montevellan descent who’ve been brought up with a somewhat skewed view of the country as it used to be for the upper classes before they were thrown out.’
She folded her arms. ‘Did you invite Doran and me out here so you could find out more? If so, I’m afraid it’s been a waste of money and time. I’ve no doubt that if you’d approached him while we were in Carathia for the wedding, he’d have told you all about the game.’
Alex said softly, ‘Ah, but then I’d have missed the pleasure of your company.’
His words fell into a deepening pool of silence. The sounds of the city faded so that all Serina could hear was the beating of her heart.
Hurrying into speech, she said briskly, ‘And no doubt that would have been a tragedy.’
‘Fishing, Princess?’
Before she could answer she felt the lightest touch of his hand on her shoulder. Obeying it, she turned and looked up into a face set hard, narrowed eyes intent and crystalline.
Excitement bumped her already heavily beating heart into overdrive. Suddenly dry-mouthed, she swallowed, but words still wouldn’t come. Her dilated gaze fixed on a pulse beating in his jaw, and she clenched her fist to stop herself from reaching up and touching it with a fingertip.
‘Alex?’ she said uncertainly.
CHAPTER FOUR
ALEX’S lips barely moved when he said, ‘Serina,’ and traced the outline of her mouth with a lean, gentle forefinger.
Colour burned up through her skin and her heartbeats drummed in her ears, awareness tingling through every cell and filling her with longing. Incredulously, she realised she was holding her breath, unable to summon her wits to move. Drowned in the burnished blue of his eyes, she clung single-mindedly to the simple concept of staying upright.
Then he said, ‘You must know already that I’m glad you came.’ And stepped away.
Serina fought to hide a fierce disappointment, keen as a knife blade. What had gone wrong? Why had he decided against…?
Against what, exactly?
Against kissing her.
Humiliation drove a desperate desire to gloss over the violence of her response. She said on a breath jagged enough to be painful, ‘I wasn’t fishing for any compliment. I was actually being slightly sarcastic.’
He hadn’t answered her question so she still didn’t know whether he’d invited her to New Zealand to find out what Doran and his friends were doing. Had he deliberately engineered that touch, that convincingly intense gaze, to fog her brain with sensual expectation so she wouldn’t push for an answer?
If so, he knew now she wanted him more than he did her. Her response gave him power; he’d been able to pull away while she’d been frozen.
Pride came to her rescue. Stiffening her shoulders, she lifted her chin and kept her gaze level and slightly ironic. After all, it wasn’t as though she’d never been kissed.
However, past kisses had been pleasant, only mildly stimulating, about as far removed as anything could be from the jolting, heady anticipation she’d experienced when Alex touched her.
What was the difference?
No other man had stirred her as Alex did, arousing a need she’d never felt before, as potent and clamorous as hunger. He was the only man able to set her hormones surging in that delicious, terrifying flood of anticipation…
Cool it, she warned her body staunchly, but she had to wait a few seconds before her voice was steady enough for her to observe in a casual tone, ‘I hope you manage to convince Gerd that his concern about trouble on his borders is baseless.’
Alex’s expression gave nothing away, but her skin tightened when her eyes met his, unyielding and austere.
‘I’ll tell him you said so,’ he said, then glanced at his watch. ‘I’ve rung the organiser of the fund-raising dinner I promised to attend tonight, and she’s quite sure that if you want to come she can arrange that.’
‘No, no,’ she broke in. The surge of response ebbed rapidly, leaving her lax and enervated. ‘I think jet lag must have struck—I wouldn’t be entertaining company tonight.’
Black brows drawn together, he scrutinised her face. ‘I should have realised you’d feel the effects—I’m sorry for wearing you out at tennis.’
‘You didn’t,’ she said promptly. ‘All I need is a good night’s sleep and I’ll be fine.’
He nodded. ‘I’ll be back well before midnight. When you want to eat, use the telephone to call the restaurant and order a meal.’
Serina was relieved when he left, although the big penthouse seemed to echo emptily without his vibrant presence. After she’d eaten an excellent meal, she explored the bookshelves in a room that combined the functions of a library and media area, strangely delighted to find several well-read books she’d enjoyed too. But she couldn’t settle and although she was tired enough to feel drowsy it took her a long time to get to sleep.
In fact, she didn’t manage it until she heard sounds that indicated Alex had returned.
When she woke, a glance at her watch revealed she’d slept only four hours. City noises floated up to the penthouse—traffic, the distant clamour of a siren, a squeal of brakes from the street below…
Just like all other cities, she thought wearily. And, to take her mind off wondering whether Alex had really intended to kiss her, she tried to imagine what she’d hear in the countryside where he lived.
It was a lost cause. Her wilful memory kept returning to those electrifying moments when he’d touched her mouth. Dreamily, she recalled the look on his face, the charged intensity about him that had awakened her equal untrammelled response.
He had wanted to kiss her.
So why had he pulled back? He was experienced; she knew of at least two long-term affairs he’d had. Surely he’d read the signals clearly enough to know she wouldn’t slap his face and storm out of the room?
Perhaps he’d decided it was too soon. Which was amazingly considerate of him…
And quite correct. However, there were four weeks ahead for them both to find out more about each other.
Smiling languorously, she turned over, closed her eyes and slid into sleep, waking to a morning as crisp and welcoming as a summer’s day. After showering and pulling on a pair of well-cut trousers and a paler blue silk shirt that intensified the colour of her eyes, she opened the curtains and gazed out at a radiant sky beaming over the city, the harbour glinting in the sunlight and dotted with islands that danced clear and bright in the vivid sea.
On the terrace outside her bedroom window flowers bloomed in a small garden; Serina opened the door that led out onto it and on a little exclamation of surprise and pleasure bent to smell one particular potted rose, sinfully crimson with a heart as darkly potent as forbidden love.
‘A rose for a rose.’
Alex’s voice brought her upright so suddenly her head swam.
‘Are you all right?’A second later, his hands clamped around her upper arms, ‘Is there something I should know about? This must be the second or third time you’ve stumbled.’
Shamefully, Serina would have liked nothing more than to rest her head on that broad chest and stay there, but an instinctive self-protection made her stiffen. ‘I didn’t stumble—I just missed a step each time. And I’m fine, thank you. I just straightened up too quickly.’
Alex looked down at her, a faint smile curving his mouth. For a moment Serina thought her heart stood still.
Hastily, so conscious of his hands on her skin that her thoughts dissolved under a heady burst of sensation, she finished, ‘And probably a bit drunk on that gorgeous perfume. Do you know what the rose is called?’
‘No, but I can find out.’ He sounded abstracted, but he stepped back and when she risked an upwards glance she saw his eyes narrow, become intent and smoky. ‘Did you sleep well?’
‘Yes, thank you. How…how did the charity function go?’
‘Very well.’
Meaningless stuff, she thought, caught in a bubble of stillness. She was babbling, and he—he wasn’t concentrating on her words…
A chasm opened up in front of her. If she jumped, it would be into the unknown. She might crash—or she might find some unexplored place ablaze with possibility. Whatever, she’d never be the same again.
Much safer to stay where she was, step back, smile at him, go on talking meaningless platitudes—and leave New Zealand after four weeks, the same person she’d always been.
A coward.
Her heart began to race. Banishing fear, she lifted a hand to touch his cheek.
His smile became set, his gaze piercing. ‘Sure, Princess?’
‘My name is Serina,’ she said, holding his eyes.
She wanted him to kiss the woman she was, not the public persona—serene princess, daughter of a long line of monarchs, scion of a defunct throne.
Serina read comprehension in his eyes, and knew that for some reason he didn’t want to make the small surrender. She didn’t even know why it was so important to her.
Tension sparked the silence between them, turning it heavy with desire.
‘Do you know what you’re asking for?’ he said, a raw note altering the timbre of his voice and sending little shudders down her spine.
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘Yes, I know. But what do you want?’
Something flickered in the burnished blue of his eyes and brought a half-mocking smile to that wicked mouth, with its narrow top lip buttressed by a sensuous lower one. ‘A kiss,’ he said. ‘And I’m not asking, Serina—I’m taking what you’ve been silently promising me since we danced together at the wedding.’
He drew her towards him. She put a hand on his chest, looking up into an intense chiselled face. On a thrill that was half fear, half voluptuous anticipation, she thought he looked like a hunter.
Buoyed by a sudden, rather shameless relief, she nodded. Yet when he made no move she was assailed by shyness. Hot and embarrassing, colour stole along her cheekbones, but she met his eyes without wavering.
Although his eyes were still fiercely predatory, his voice became gentler. ‘All right?’
‘Yes.’
And when he bent his head and claimed her mouth with his own she yielded, leaning into him as he gathered her against him. White-hot sensations swamped her in a rush of adrenalin—his hard male contours, the taste of him, the faint barely-there fragrance that was his alone.
Her knees buckled and he tightened his grip, bringing her even closer to his powerful, fully aroused body.
Alex lifted his head and looked down into eyes that were slumbrous, almost dazed with passion, their violet-blue depths mysteriously dark. Gritting his teeth against a hungry surge of triumph, he fought back the primitive impulse to carry her across to the lounger a few metres away and take her then and there.
It was too soon, too public, and she deserved better than a hasty, violent consummation.
But he couldn’t resist the enticement of her soft lips. When he lowered his head and claimed them again, she melted into him without resistance, her open, sensual surrender setting off a torrid chain effect that affected his every clamorous cell.
He managed to call a halt, to look into her huge eyes and say in a voice that probably sounded as taut and explosive as he felt, ‘Serina—we have to stop this right now or it will be too late.’
Her lashes fell slowly, trembled against skin as translucent as the finest silk, but when she lifted them again she was once more in command of herself.
‘So we stop,’ she said, a husky note in her voice giving her away.
Alex found himself wishing he’d taken the chance.
For the first time ever he’d lost control, been tempted to follow his desires and damn the consequences.
Mastering his hunger, he released her and tried to summon his usual detached attitude. The aftermath of a carnal storm unlike anything he’d ever experienced made it near impossible.
Who’d have thought the gracious, reserved Princess would show all the instincts of a courtesan?
No, most courtesans had their eyes firmly on their bank balances, bargaining sex for security. Serina had offered herself ardently and without reserve.
And then he wondered whether she’d have been so passionately willing if they hadn’t spoken about her brother.
Even as the thought formulated, he knew it wasn’t likely. She seemed convinced that Doran and his friends were designing a video game, so why would she be concerned? She also guessed he’d warned Gerd about the possibility of trouble on his borders.
However, he had to assume that she might have been lying. An inner revulsion at the thought forced him to realise how much he wanted to trust her. The computer game story was a brilliant subterfuge, entirely believable. Pity it wasn’t true. Young Doran and his band of romantic, eager conspirators had no idea what they’d got into.
He looked down into her face and saw with savage satisfaction that she too was struggling for control. The ache in his groin intensified into a plea, a demand—almost a command. He fought it back because he didn’t dare give his innermost instinct free rein.
He’d be betraying Gerd and Rosie if he didn’t make every effort to find out whether Serina knew anything—any small scrap of information that could lead them to the people who were backing her brother and his friends. In spite of their efforts, he and Gerd still weren’t sure who was pulling the strings, or why, although they had their suspicions. If the Princess had any inkling, he was honour bound to find out.
And if that meant seducing her into pillow talk, then it would have to be done. It was, quite literally, a matter of life and death, not only for her brother and his friends, but for many other people.
Serina looked up, catching a glimpse of something harsh and grim in his eyes. Chilled, she masked a shiver by turning away so she could pretend to examine the rose again.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said evenly.
‘Why?’ She even managed a smile. ‘I know the tabloids call me the ice princess, but surely you don’t believe them? I have been kissed before.’
His brows rose and he surprised her by stooping to snap off the bloom and hold it out to her. In a wry voice he told her, ‘I’m sorry because I stupidly made the arrangement for our flights without thinking that we might want to prolong our stay here.’
Colour heated her skin. Now—or never, she thought, wondering if he could hear her heart thudding so heavily in her chest.
Now. Because she wanted to know what making love to Alex was like infinitely more than she wanted to obey the strictures drummed into her by her mother and her governess. For the first time in her life she realised how potent desire could be…
‘I—thank you,’ she said, and answered his unspoken proposition by lifting the flower to her lips, still tender from his kisses. The petals were warm and smooth and she inhaled their sweetly provocative perfume.
Hastily, she said, ‘I don’t think I’ve ever seen a rose exactly this shade of red before. And, as it seems perfectly happy growing in a pot, I’d like to buy one for myself when I get back home. It should enjoy living on my balcony, and it would be a charming reminder of my visit here.’
‘If you want a true reminder of New Zealand, a native plant might be more appropriate. You can buy sealed packets of seeds that are acceptable to most countries now.’
How could he switch so abruptly—from the passionately demanding kisses of a few minutes ago to this pleasant, conversational courtesy?
With ease, clearly. Emotion and sensation were still churning through her, but Alex was once more fully in control.
‘I’ll look out for them.’ She turned to go, but remembered something. ‘What time do you plan to leave this morning?’
He paused, as though remembering something. ‘There’s been a change of plan—if you’re happy with it. I met friends at the dinner last night who live not far north of here in a vineyard. Their garden is beautiful—a showpiece. Today they’re launching their latest red with lunch and a reception there. They invited me and, when I mentioned you were with me, they extended the invitation to you.’
‘That’s very kind of them,’ she said uncertainly.
His brows lifted. ‘How is it that in your conversation I so often hear a but coming?’
The ironic question brought a smile. ‘I’d love to meet them, and the launching of a new wine is a very special occasion…’
Her voice trailed away. How could she explain that she didn’t want to appear to his friends as his latest conquest, arm candy for a successful man?
Before she could go any further, he said, ‘New Zealanders are notoriously informal, and I can promise you the invitation is genuine. Aura suggested we come for lunch and look around their garden as that’s your interest.’ And, when she hesitated anew, he added, ‘She recognised your name and has read some of your columns.’
Somehow that appeased her uncertainty. ‘I’d love to go,’ she said quietly.
He glanced at his watch. ‘Then we’d better move. Breakfast will be in about twenty minutes.’