Married for the Prince's Convenience Page 2

  Overwhelmed by the equally heady blend of emotion swirling through her, she gave a nervous laugh. ‘Blimey, I hope I don’t look that old!’

  ‘Be assured. You don’t.’

  His smile disappeared, but she suspected he was still amused by her. The thought created a joyous fizz in her blood. It struck her that this man, whoever he was, hadn’t smiled or laughed in a long time. The urgent need to catch another glimpse of that enigmatic smile grew.

  ‘Great. Living to a thousand sounds like fun, but I bet it becomes a nuisance after that. A few more decades will do me just fine, though. I have things to do, people to impress.’

  Joy sang in her chest when he rewarded her with another fleeting smile.

  ‘I have no doubt that you will make your mark on the world before you leave it.’ His head dipped in a shallow bow. ‘Enjoy the rest of your evening, Jasmine.’ With graceful, long-limbed strides, he walked away from her.

  His abrupt departure stunned her into stillness. She watched four figures detach themselves from the shadowed doorway and fall into step behind him. She didn’t need to be told they were bodyguards.

  And rightly so. He was far too lethal to walk around without armed escort.

  It wasn’t until he reached the bottom of the stairs that led into the main hall that she regained the power of speech.

  ‘Holy hotness, Batman,’ she muttered under her breath, still more than a little stunned.

  Watching him cut a path through the assembled crowd, Jasmine realised she hadn’t even asked his name. Without pausing to think, she dashed through the doors after him.

  She came to a screeching halt after a few steps.

  What was she doing? She hadn’t come to Rio to check out its male citizens, or to fall flat on her face for the first enigmatic man who looked at her with deep, hypnotically solemn eyes.

  The real reason wrenched her back to reality, making any dream she harboured glaringly impossible. Whoever the mysterious, formidable stranger was, he had nothing to do with her mission here.

  A mission that should’ve been the one and only thing on her mind.

  She slid her wrap closer to ward off the sudden chill invading her body.

  How could she have lost sight of her objective so quickly? Her stepfather’s well-being depended on her. Running after a man who’d made her feel so alive, so special that she would have given up all she held dear to spend another minute in his presence was out of the question.

  She clutched her grey silk purse and tried to think clearly, but it was no use. His smell, the feel of his hand on her skin, the intensity of his dark gaze that seemed to see past the outer trappings of civilised conversation to her inner self, remained imprinted on her.

  Her breath rushed out shakily. She tried to tell herself what she’d felt didn’t matter. That wasn’t her purpose here. The only thing that mattered was finding Prince Reyes, getting her hands on the treaty and making it out of here in one piece. By way of grounding herself, she recited the list once more and forced herself to move into the hall as she did so.

  The first thing she noticed was that the man she’d been speaking to was now on the other side of the room. Similarly suited men surrounded him, yet he remained curiously aloof, standing out so spectacularly, everyone else faded into insignificance.

  Forcing her gaze away, she looked around. In halting Portuguese, she tried to enquire discreetly from her waiter which of the men was Prince Reyes, but her query only drew a blank stare.

  Her anxiety returned when she realised most of the conversation going on around her was in Portuguese. Naïvely, she’d assumed since most of the staff at her hotel spoke English, everyone in Rio did too.

  But the man who’d spoken to her on the terrace had used perfect English.

  So ask him.

  Except she couldn’t. She’d have to cross the room to get to him, and in the time she’d been dithering his audience had tripled.

  Insinuating herself into his crowd would only draw attention to herself. And for what she’d come here to do, anonymity was key. Wishing she’d pressed Joaquin Esteban for more details about the prince, she cast another look around.

  A bell sounded nearby, making her jump. Guests started taking their places at the long banquet table. She found her place and had just sat down when a light-haired man joined her.

  He looked at her hopefully. ‘Please tell me you speak English?’

  Jasmine smiled with relief. ‘Yes, I do.’

  ‘Thank God! You think your Portuguese is all right until someone asks you a question. Then even the little you know flies straight out of your head. I’m Josh, by the way.’

  ‘Jasmine,’ she responded.

  ‘Crazy, isn’t it?’

  Startled, Jasmine glanced sideways to him. ‘Sorry?’

  He nodded to the group of men taking their seats at the far end of the long banquet table. ‘Unbelievable that between the two of them, those men control nearly half of the steel and precious gems in the world.’

  Unwilling to disclose her ignorance, she murmured, ‘Right.’

  ‘Shame their trade relations are in a shambles, though. Hopefully once the treaty is signed, there should be some semblance of order, otherwise the chaos will only get worse.’ He shook his head. ‘Prince Reyes has done an outstanding job of bringing the treaty to fruition, though. Have to commend him on that.’ He took a healthy gulp of champagne.

  Sneaking in a breath to calm her screeching nerves, she casually asked, ‘Which one is Prince Reyes?’

  He looked puzzled for a second, then he shrugged. ‘I understand how you might be confused. They’re descended from the same bloodline, after all.’ He nodded to the men. ‘Mendez, the shorter one who rocked up in the speedboat, is the birthday boy celebrating the big four-oh. He’s in charge of Valderra, the larger of the two kingdoms. The taller one at the head of the table, talking to the prime minster, is Reyes. Don’t get me wrong, his might be the smaller of the kingdoms, but Santo Sierra is definitely the big kahuna.’

  Jasmine’s throat threatened to close up as she absorbed the information. Her fingers clenched around her cutlery as ice drenched her blood.

  The lights went up just then and two officious-looking men stepped up to the twin podiums carrying black briefcases. Heart in her throat, she realised what she’d done.

  She’d been speaking to Prince Reyes Navarre all along!

  And she’d told him her name!

  After a short speech, the first stage of the treaty signing was completed. Jasmine watched as the documents were placed back in the briefcases.

  Clammy sweat soaked her palms. Carefully, she set down her knife and fork. Every instinct told her to get up. Run. Not stop until she was on the next plane back to London.

  But how could she? Even if she sold her two-bedroom East London flat and somehow found the balance to pay the half a million pounds owed to Joaquin, the loan shark still possessed enough documentary evidence to bury her stepfather.

  Jasmine’s heart lurched at the thought. Her family was far from perfect, but Stephen Nichols had single-handedly ensured she and her mother had been given a much-needed second chance. There was no way Jasmine was going to turn her back on him now.

  Nervously, she swallowed the moisture in her mouth. ‘You mean, Prince Reyes is the tall one...’ with the impossibly broad shoulders, sad eyes and expressive, elegant hands, she nearly blurted out.

  ‘Looking our way right now,’ her table companion muttered, a vein of surprise trailing his voice.

  Her head jerked up and slate-grey eyes locked on hers. Even from the length of the banquet table, the stranger from the terrace loomed larger than life, his stare unwavering.

  Except he wasn’t an intriguing stranger any more.

  He was the man she’d come to steal from.


  CHAPTER TWO

  SHAME SHOULD HAVE been the paramount emotion ruling Jasmine as her gaze remained trapped in Prince Reyes’s stare.

  Instead, the alien emotion from earlier pulsed through her again, and, impossibly, everything and everyone seemed to fade away. Even the sound of her own breathing slowed until she barely knew whether she breathed in or out.

  Alarmed and more than a little unsettled, Jasmine wrenched her gaze away. All through the meal she barely tasted, she forced herself to make light conversation with Josh. But even with her focus firmly turned away from Prince Reyes, she could feel his stare, heavy and speculative, on her.

  Now, realising just how precarious a position she’d put herself in, Jasmine was barely able to hold it together. Which was why she didn’t hear Josh clear his throat.

  Once. Twice.

  Her gaze jerked up to find Prince Reyes Navarre standing next to her. Startled, she dropped the knife and cringed as it clattered onto her plate.

  ‘Miss Nichols, was your meal satisfactory?’ He glanced pointedly at her half-eaten meal.

  Aware of the countless pairs of eyes on her, Jasmine wasn’t sure whether to remain seated or stand and curtsy. She opted to remain seated. ‘Y-yes, it was, thank you.’

  ‘I am not interrupting, I hope?’ A glance at Josh that was at once courteous and incisive.

  ‘No, we’re...just two countrymen who find themselves at the same table.’ Josh laughed.

  ‘How...fortunate,’ Prince Reyes said, his gaze speculative as it rested on the other man.

  Vaguely, she saw him gesture. Suddenly, the guests rose from their places and started to mingle. Sensing some sort of etiquette being observed, Jasmine stood shakily to her feet.

  Snagging the edge of her heel on her chair, she stumbled.

  Prince Reyes caught her arm. She gasped at the electricity sizzling over her skin. When she straightened, he dropped his arm and just stared at her.

  A block of silence fell between them. For the life of her, Jasmine couldn’t form any words to ease the sudden tension. Heat crawled over her body and her dress felt suddenly very restrictive.

  Josh cleared his throat a third time, glanced from one to the other, then put his glass down. ‘I need to find a business acquaintance. Please excuse me, Your Highness.’ He bowed quickly, then scurried away before Jasmine could draw breath.

  And once again, Jasmine was trapped by a pair of compelling grey eyes.

  ‘Are you here with him?’ Prince Reyes asked.

  Did she detect a hint of disapproval in his tone? She raised her chin. ‘No, I’m here on my own.’

  If anything, his disapproval increased.

  She scrambled to continue. ‘I was told Rio was safe. So far nothing’s happened to make me think otherwise.’

  A gleam smouldered in his eyes. ‘Danger comes in all forms, Miss Nichols. Sometimes in least expected packages. I’d urge you to practise caution.’

  Hearing him use her surname instead of her first name as he had on the terrace, made her realise how much she missed hearing it.

  ‘Thank you for the advice...umm...Your Highness.’ She didn’t add that she wouldn’t need it. She didn’t plan on being here long enough to get into any more danger than she was putting herself in tonight. In fact, as soon as she’d completed the hateful task, she was heading to the airport to catch the next flight out. ‘But it’s really not necessary.’

  He continued to regard her in that disquieting manner. A tiny shiver shimmied along her skin; the enormity of her task hit her, sharp and forceful.

  Again the instinct to run slammed through her and it took everything Jasmine possessed to stand her ground and continue to meet his eyes.

  This man possessed her only means to save her stepfather. Instead of dismissing his concern, she should be using it. The shame welling inside her didn’t matter. The fear of stepping over the line couldn’t be allowed to overtake the most important thing—saving Stephen. Saving her family.

  She watched, scrambling to keep her distressing thoughts from showing, as Prince Reyes held out his hand. ‘Very well. Far be it from me to cause offence by suggesting one of my bodyguards accompany you to your hotel. It was a pleasure to meet you, Miss Nichols.’ He turned away and she noticed said bodyguards take their protective stance behind him. One was carrying the briefcase containing the treaty.

  He was leaving! Taking with him the only chance of saving her stepfather.

  Gripping her purse, she cleared her throat and quickly back-pedalled. ‘Actually, you’re right. A strange city isn’t a place for a woman to be wandering at night. I’d be grateful for your assistance.’

  She heard the indrawn breath of the nearest guests, but ignored it.

  Letting Prince Reyes leave was unthinkable. She’d travelled thousands of miles to make sure her stepfather didn’t go to jail. Ten minutes was all she needed. Less, if she was really quick. She had to get her hands on that treaty. Even if it meant following a predator straight into his den.

  He turned. Jasmine’s breath stalled as his eyes darkened. He stared at her for what felt like an eternity before his lids descended. She sensed his withdrawal before he spoke.

  ‘I’ll arrange for my chauffeur to deliver you to your hotel.’ He was already nodding to a dark-clad figure nearby.

  Acute anxiety swelled inside her.

  She couldn’t fail. She just couldn’t. Stephen might just survive prison but her mother wouldn’t make it.

  ‘Or I could come with you. Save your chauffeur making two trips,’ she offered, cringing at the breathless tone of her voice.

  He held up a hand to stop the bodyguard who stepped forward, his gaze imprisoning hers. Silence pulsed between them. A silence filled with charged signals that made the blood pulse heavily between her thighs. Every sense sprang into super-awareness. She could hear every sound, smell every scent on the evening breeze, feel every whisper of air over her heating skin. Her nipples hardened and her cheeks heated at the blatant evidence of her awareness of him.

  The thought that she was insanely attracted to a man whom she planned to deceive, albeit temporarily, caused hysterical laughter to bubble up.

  She strained not to react. To keep the wrap draped over her arms and not use it to hide the proof of her arousal. She’d never used her feminine wiles to capture a man’s attention. Doing so now made her insides clench with disgust. All the same, a small part of her gave a cry of triumph when his eyes dropped to her chest for an infinitesimal moment.

  ‘You want to come with me? Now?’ His voice had altered, his eyes narrowing with icy suspicion that warned her to tread carefully.

  Jasmine couldn’t afford to back away. She had too much to lose.

  ‘Yes. Take me with you. My hotel isn’t that far from here. I’ll even buy you a drink as a thank you.’ The single brain cell that remained shook with astonishment at her boldness. Afraid that her plea had emerged more of a command, and might perhaps cause offence, she hastily added, ‘If you don’t mind.’

  His gaze darkened with a predatory gleam that made Jasmine swallow in trepidation. ‘Perhaps it is you who should mind, Miss Nichols. Some would advise you against what you’re asking.’

  With deliberate slowness, she passed the tip of her tongue over her lower lip. Stark hunger blazed in his eyes, stealing her breath as the grey depths turned almost black. A warm rush of air whispered over her skin, but even that small change caused her to gasp as if he’d physically laid his hands on her.

  ‘Maybe, but something tells me I can trust you,’ she replied, her nerves jangling with terror at the uncharted waters she found herself in. Flirting and sexual games had never been her forte. Not since her one attempt at university had ended in humiliating disaster.

  Another step brought Prince Reyes within touching distance. His narrowed
eyes, still holding that trace of sadness she’d glimpsed earlier, were now laced with a healthy dose of bitterness.

  Jasmine didn’t have time to dwell on his expression because his scent engulfed her, fuelling her already frenzied senses. She inhaled, filling her entire being with his essence. As if he sensed it too, his nostrils flared.

  ‘You’re playing a dangerous game, Jasmine,’ he murmured.

  ‘It...it’s just a lift back to my h-hotel,’ she croaked.

  ‘Perhaps. Or it is something else. Something neither of us is ready for.’ His voice was pitched low, for her ears alone. His gaze slid over her face, its path as forceful and yet as gentle as a silky caress.

  ‘I’ll be out of your hair in less than half an hour. Seriously, you have nothing to fear from me.’ Liar. She tried to curb the accusing voice, thankful when it faded away under the onslaught of the heavy emotion beating in her chest.

  His jaw tightened. ‘I have everything to fear from you.’ Again the bitterness, sharper this time. ‘The curse of a beautiful woman has been my ancestors’ downfall.’

  She forced a laugh. Beautiful? Her? Well, if he could flatter, so could she. ‘So prove it’s not true. Deliver me to my hotel and walk away. Then you’ll be free of this...curse.’

  He tilted his head to one side, as if weighing her request. His hand rose again, this time to reach down to encircle her wrist.

  With a subtle but firm tug, he pulled her to him.

  ‘If walking away resolved centuries-old issues, my kingdom wouldn’t be in shambles.’

  ‘I didn’t mean—’

  He pulled her closer. Jasmine was too mesmerised by this enigmatic man to acknowledge the curious stares of the guests beyond the protective circle of Prince Reyes’s bodyguards. And he didn’t seem too disturbed by their growing audience.