Chapter 5
“Anastazia…?”
She blinked as she refocused on Alexandre before firmly pushing those erotic thoughts away from her. Dangerous thoughts that made her body tremble and her panties wet. She needed to get out of here and well away from this man.
And perhaps go somewhere private where I can relieve some of this sexual tension.
Great, now she was thinking of— Shit. At work too. This was mad, unacceptable.
“What are you thinking about…?” It was impossible for Alexandre to miss the way Anastazia’s cheeks had become flushed, her eyes unfocused and a darker blue, and her breathing shallow and erratic. Signs of her arousal? The hard tips of her breasts pressing against her blouse, and the spicy heat of her body perfume, would seem to indicate that it was.
Why?
What had he done or said—
Ah.
He stepped close enough to breathe in the perfume of her arousal. “Ash and I would both ensure that you had an…enjoyable evening.” During their years at university and since, he and Ash had often shared a woman.
Alexandre frowned, hands clenching at his sides, as he realized he didn’t want to share Anastazia. With anyone. Least of all Asher Knight. The man was a demanding, almost feral lover, and Anastazia deserved to be made love to and with, to be savored slowly. By one man. Him.
“It’s very kind of you, but no,” she refused the invitation.
Alexandre felt some of his tension ease as his hands uncurled and his shoulders relaxed. Although it was interesting that Anastazia had actually seemed to consider the invitation—amongst other things. “Your boyfriend didn’t propose to you last night,” he rasped.
She instantly tensed, her expression becoming defensive. “What makes you say that?”
He glanced at her left hand. “No ring.”
“It could be being resized.”
Even more defensive. “Is it?”
She turned away from him to glance around the tidy and comfortable room. “I think that’s everything for now—Alexandre, don’t…!” The last was a low groan of denial as Alexandre gently took hold of her arm and turned her to face him.
His gaze roamed searchingly over her face. The dark, almost bruised eyes. The pallor of her cheeks. The slight tremble to her lips. As if she were on the verge of crying. “What did the bastard do to you?” His forceful tone demanded an answer.
“Nothing.” Her voice was husky with those unshed tears. “He did absolutely nothing,” she repeated shakily.
Alexandre’s eyes narrowed. “He didn’t propose?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
She gave a humorless laugh. “Turns out I’m not good enough for him.”
“What?” Alexandre stilled. His own thoughts had been so similar earlier.
Oh, not that Anastazia wasn’t good enough for him, but that his own wants and needs—his desire for Anastazia—were subject to the wants and needs of others. That he had a duty to his family name and the people of his island, one that didn’t allow him to say or act as he wished. That included dating a young English woman with no royal or political connections.
Wasn’t that the same thing?
Unfortunately not. His first duty had to be to Androcco, to his people, no matter how much he might wish it otherwise. Her boyfriend—ex-boyfriend, had no such onerous responsibilities.
She shrugged. “Will is a lawyer, an ambitious one, and he told me last night that he’s going to marry the daughter of the senior partner of the firm he works for.”
Whereas this other man, the man Anastazia had thought would become her husband, had chosen to do what? Further his career by marrying the daughter of the man he worked for? It certainly sounded like it.
“You know,” he cajoled, “I believe that an evening out with Asher and myself is exactly what you need. Bring a girlfriend with you, if it would make you feel more comfortable,” he added at her doubtful expression.
Could she do that, Stazzi wondered, knowing she was more than a little tempted by an evening out with two gorgeous and dangerous men like Prince Alexandre and Asher Knight. It was exactly what her battered and bruised self-confidence needed.
And what about the hotel policy that employees weren’t allowed to be overfamiliar with the guests? Okay, Asher Knight wasn’t a guest, but Alexandre definitely was.
If she invited Lissa too, then it would be less Stazzi fraternizing with a guest. She could even claim, if asked, that Asher had been her date for the evening, and she hadn’t known Prince Alexandre would be there.
It wasn’t an ideal situation, and she wasn’t particularly happy about the possibility of having to bend the truth to Daniel Meyers, if it came to that, but a part of her really wanted to go out to dinner with Alexandre. After Will’s despicable behavior, she needed to do this.
Besides which, Lissa would never forgive her if she turned down this invitation on behalf of both of them.
“Okay, I’ll bring my flatmate Lissa,” she accepted. “But it’s just dinner,” she added quickly as she saw the way those green eyes darkened with satisfaction.
“Of course.” Alexandre nodded. “You won’t regret it,” he added lightly.
Stazzi regretted it almost as soon as she left Alexandre. She also thought of calling him several times during the long day that followed, to tell him she had changed her mind. But each time, something held her back from doing so.
Consequently, she was a nervous wreck by the time she left work to go home, hardly noticing the short journey on the tube to her apartment. She had called Lissa earlier and asked her if she was okay for going out to dinner with Alexandre and Asher that evening. Her friend’s scream of excitement had been enough of an answer.
She couldn’t help smiling, after letting herself into the apartment and seeing Lissa had the whole of her wardrobe laid out across her bed as she discarded one dress after another in her search for something suitable.
Stazzi had no such problem, knew exactly what she was going to wear. The new black gown she’d bought to go out with Will the previous evening definitely needed an outing. It also gave her a perverse satisfaction to think of wearing it to go out with someone as handsome and sophisticated as Prince Alexandre St Sebastien.
Eat your heart out, Will Granger!
“I still can’t believe we’re actually getting the chance to eat at Fury’s!” Lissa gave an excited laugh when their cab arrived outside the restaurant shortly after eight o’clock that evening.
Alexandre had called Stazzi at her office shortly before five o’clock to ask for her address so that he and Asher could collect them on their way to the restaurant. Stazzi had insisted that wasn’t necessary, that the two women would make their own way there. Alexandre hadn’t been too happy with that arrangement, but Stazzi had been adamant. He had reluctantly given her the name and address of the restaurant where he and Asher Knight would be waiting for them at eight o’clock.
Fury’s was the most exclusive restaurant in London right then, and patrons usually had to book weeks in advance to stand a chance of getting a table. Unless, apparently, you happened to be a royal prince…
“Me either,” Stazzi answered Lissa. The meal this evening would probably cost more than a month’s wages from her job at the Meyers Hotel. “The bodyguards outside and inside are a bit…off-putting, though.”
She had easily recognized three of Alexandre’s bodyguards outside the restaurant, as they no doubt knew her, although none of them acknowledged the fact. Three more of his men were standing in the reception area as the two women handed in their coats, the bodyguards’ expressions watchful, eyes alert for any danger. As if they expected some knife-wielding maniac to storm into the restaurant and attack Alexandre.
Stazzi wondered how Alexandre coped with living in such a goldfish bowl every day. Used to it, she supposed, having no doubt lived this way since birth. It would drive her nuts to have bodyguards dogging her every move—
She forgot all about them, and their reason for being there, as she and Lissa followed the maître d’ into the main part of the restaurant and she immediately saw Alexandre as he stood up from a table situated—deliberately?—in the far corner of the room.
She could barely breathe as she took in his appearance in a black evening suit and white silk shirt, the overhead chandelier giving a slight copper sheen to his black hair, those intense green eyes watching her every move as she walked toward him.
“Stand up, idiot,” Alexandre instructed Ash as the other man remained sprawled in his chair on the opposite side of the table.
“They aren’t here yet,” Ash dismissed uninterestedly.
“Almost,” Alexandre hissed under his breath.
The other man shrugged. “You’re the one who wants to get laid, not me.”
Alexandre drew in a sharp breath, knowing it was true but resenting hearing Ash talk about Anastazia in that way. “You’re such an asshole.”
“Takes one to know one,” Ash taunted.
“Will you stand the fuck up!”
“I don’t think ruling princes are allowed to use that sort of language.”
“This ruling prince has known you for too many years to care. Now stand the fuck up!”
“Remember, this was your idea, not mine.” Ash finally rose slowly to his feet.
Yes, it was, and Ash had made no secret of his displeasure when Alexandre told him he had invited the two women to join them for dinner this evening. No doubt Ash’s plans for the evening had involved going on to some nightclub after dinner, where the two men would take their pick of the women there.
Alexandre forgot all about his friend’s bloody-mindedness as Anastazia reached the table. She looked beautiful in a clinging black gown that finished several inches above her knees, left her shoulders bare, and revealed the soft swell of her breasts. Her long black hair flowed like silk over those bared shoulders as she smiled at him, her eyes that cool turquoise blue of a mountain lake, a red gloss emphasizing the fullness of her lips.
“We’ve met before, I believe, Miss Carmichael.” Ash’s voice was a low rumble once the maître d’ had seated the women between the two men at the round table, the man having lingered only long enough to fill the ladies’ champagne glasses before leaving.
“I remember,” she acknowledged noncommittally. “Lissa, this is Prince Alexandre and his associate Asher Knight. My best friend and flatmate, Lissa Forsythe.”
Alexandre was barely aware of acknowledging the redhead as he and Ash resumed their seats, his attention completely focused on Anastazia.
“And what do you do, Mr. Knight?” Lissa prompted to break the tense silence that had fallen over the table.
“This and that,” he answered dismissively. “You?”
Alexandre was going to kill Ash if he didn’t stop behaving like a complete dick.
“I’m a travel agent,” Lissa answered stiffly.
“Really?” Ash sounded even less impressed, if that was possible. “So you’re the person I call if I want to book an airline ticket?” He made no effort to hide his derision.
“Somehow I doubt that,” the redhead replied through gritted teeth.
“Oh, and why is that?”
She gave him an insincere smile. “I tend to pass the assholes on to my assistant.”
Ash bared his teeth in an appreciative smile. “That’s the second time I’ve been called an asshole this evening.”
“Then I’m sure we can’t both be wrong!” Lissa came back with insincere sweetness.
“I’m guessing Mr. Knight didn’t want us here?” Anastazia whispered to Alexandre as Asher and Lissa continued their barbed conversation.
Alexandre placed his hand over hers as it rested on the tabletop. “I wanted you here.”
Stazzi glanced at the other couple rather than at him, so very aware of the warmth of his hand over hers. Aware of everything about Alexandre as he sat beside her. The long length of his thigh just inches away from her own. The subtle smell of his aftershave. The heat of his body.
The way he can’t take his eyes off me.
Stazzi felt devoured by the intensity of that emerald gaze, and while it was doing wonders for her ego, it was also totally disconcerting.
She shifted uncomfortably. “I should warn you, Lissa has a temper to go with that red hair.”
He laughed softly. “Ash’s behavior says he deserves all he gets.”
Stazzi winced, knowing just how fiery Lissa’s temper could be if she lost it. Asher had been uncommunicative and terse when he visited the hotel, but she had hoped that was just his work mode. Obviously, she had been wrong. His behavior tonight was outright rude.
The other couple seemed to call a truce—by simply not talking to each other—as they all studied the menus and then ordered their meal, but Stazzi wasn’t sure how long that would last if Asher was going to keep baiting Lissa.
Alexandre gave an inward groan as Anastazia sat forward to lift her glass and take a sip of her champagne.
“Mm, this is delicious.” She licked the excess wine from those red-glossed lips.
His cock immediately engorged and swelled in response to the moist sweep of that little pink tongue, and he thanked God he was sitting down and no one could see the obvious tenting of his trousers.
The tension between Ash and Lissa, and his own constant state of arousal from being in Anastazia’s company, told him this was going to be a very long evening.
As it turned out, it was nowhere near as long as he thought it would be.
They had barely finished eating the main course of their meal when Lissa turned angrily on Ash, topaz eyes flashing in warning. “How dare you speak to me like that, you egotistical moron!”
Ash shrugged. “I only asked if you wanted to fuck later.”
“And now you’ve repeated it.” She glared at him incredulously.
“It’s a valid question, surely?”
“Not to me.”
“Then why else are you here?”
“I was invited to have dinner with my friend and her—her—”
“Yes?” Ash taunted.
“You’re an asshole!”
“And you’re repeating yourself.”
“If the name fits!”
He shrugged broad shoulders. “Strangely, no one’s ever called me that before tonight.”
“You surprise me!”
He gave a feral grin. “Now I really do want to fuck you.”
“In your dreams, buddy!”
“In my bed would be more comfortable.”
“Mr. Knight—”
“Ash—”
Anastazia’s and Alexandre’s protests went unheard as Lissa threw her napkin on the tabletop before standing up, cheeks flushed, her eyes glittering with either tears or temper. “You’re an arrogant fucking bastard!”
Ash was obviously completely unconcerned by the insult, or the interest of the other diners, as he relaxed against the back of his chair to look up at her. “And now we’re back to the fucking…”
“I wouldn’t fuck you if you were the last man on this earth.” Lissa picked up her champagne glass and threw the contents into Ash’s face. “Thank you for dinner, but I have to go now,” she said tightly to Anastazia and Alexandre before grabbing up her clutch bag and stalking across the restaurant.
“No.” Alexandre placed his hand over Anastazia’s as she would have stood to go after her friend, his eyes glittering darkly as he turned to Ash. “Follow her and apologize.”
“I’m the one who had a glass of champagne thrown over him.” Ash grimaced as he used his napkin to wipe the excess liquid from his face and the front of his dinner jacket. “Thanks.” He accepted the second napkin handed to him by the flustered maître d’ after he hurried over to their table. “That’s fine, thanks,” he dismissed the older man. “Nothing to see here,” he growled at the other diners gawking across at their table, glaring at them darkly until they all turned away to resume eating their meal or to talking softly under their breath.
Anastazia glared at Ash. “If you had spoken to me like that, I would have hit you over the head with the whole bottle, not just thrown a glass of champagne in your face. How dare you speak to my friend like that?”
“Go,” Alexandre instructed Ash tightly.
Ash sighed. “Is that my sometime employer speaking or my friend?”
“Both!”
The other man threw the wet napkin onto the table before rising slowly to his feet to glance across the restaurant where Lissa had disappeared. “Perhaps you might consider searching for my dead body in the morning.”
“If I find it, I’m more likely to trample on it,” Stazzi assured him, totally stunned by what had just happened. “Repeatedly,” she added with feeling.
Asher gave an unconcerned grin. “I have a feeling there may not be enough of me left in the morning to do that.”
“Good.” Stazzi glared at him as he nodded his good-bye before striding confidently toward the reception area. “I really should go after Lissa—”
“No. You really shouldn’t.” Alexandre’s hand on her arm prevented her from standing. “Give it a few minutes and then call her, by all means. But I doubt she will answer you, and I certainly wouldn’t advise following her.”
“Why not?”
He grimaced. “The sexual tension between Ash and Lissa was, is…explosive. So much so, I doubt they will get any further than Ash’s car before—well, before. The first time, at least.”
She gasped. “You’re wrong—”
“No, I assure you I’m not.” Alexandre turned in his seat, the length of his thigh now resting warmly against her own. “The fact Ash spoke of the morning, twice, tells me exactly what he and your friend will be doing tonight. All night.”
“Lissa hates him—”
“She wants him,” he corrected huskily, lifting a tress of her hair and curling it back behind her ear.
Was it possible? Stazzi wondered, still dazed by the way Lissa and Ash’s barbed conversation had exploded into such a violent verbal and then physical exchange.
Lissa had a temper, yes, but Stazzi couldn’t say she had ever seen her friend quite that agitated before.
“Ash wants her too,” Alexandre murmured, his breath warm against the ear he’d bared. “In the same way I want you.”
Every other thought went out of Stazzi’s head as she felt the sharp, arousing nip of his teeth against the lobe of her ear.