Page 52 of Incognito

So much for pleasantries. Though she should be glad he didn’t waste time. She hadn’t come here to rehash old news, she wanted answers, closure, anything to ease the tension winding her tighter than a spring.

“You said you were leaving, then I discover you’re still in Melbourne.”

A wary expression flickered in his eyes, the clear aquamarine highlighted by his pale blue shirt, the faintest gold pin stripes catching the light. On anyone else, the shirt would’ve looked a tad feminine. On him, it accentuated his status and screamed royalty.

By the rest of his outfit, he’d stepped back into prince mode well and truly: designer pants with a perfect crease, the fancy shirt, and a royal blue tie embossed with a small crest. Probably the Andretti coat of arms.

He appeared all business and then some, and she didn’t like it. She preferred her prince ruffled and laidback, in black denim and unshaven.Her prince.She wished. Dante in his fancy outfit looked every inch the untouchable prince and served to reinforce the huge gap between them. What hope did she have?

Fay had clued her in that Dante intended on moving into the penthouse suite when it became available tomorrow, which meant he hadn’t planned on staying here, it had been a last minute decision. Had he been so desperate to get away from Telford Towers—and her—that he’d left without making a booking?

“Please tell me what you are doing here, Natasha.”

She hated when people didn’t give her direct answers, or worse, answered a question with a question. Her parents had raised her to be upfront and honest at all costs.

Trying not to shuffle under his steady stare, she thrust her hands in her pockets and squared her shoulders. “Gina is looking for you.”

He raised an eyebrow, obviously not expecting that response. “I’ll get in touch with her. Now, if there’s nothing else—”

“Actually, I wanted to clear the air between us,” she rushed on, hating his stilted formality, wanting to recapture the closeness they’d had.

His frown deepened. “We have nothing to discuss that I’m aware of.”

“I beg to differ. The way I see it, we were getting along just fine, and then yesterday, out of the blue, you leave. Only you didn’t leave Melbourne as you led me to believe, you changed hotels, which begs the question why?”

“I don’t owe you any explanations,” he said, staring over her shoulder at the stunning view of the Melbourne skyline she’d glimpsed when she first entered the room.

“You’re right, you don’t owe me anything. But you’re a decent guy and I thought we had a connection.” Her heart pounded and her palms grew clammy, but she had to do this. “The time we spent together seemed special and perhaps there was something more than just friendship between us. Maybe I was wrong?”

There, she’d said it. The words had tumbled out in a confused jumble and she’d spoiled the ending by her voice rising, but she’d made the first overture and told the semi-truth—connection could be a euphemism for love, right?—and now she waited, breath held, for some kind of response from the man who set her pulse racing just by being in the same room.

Dante didn’t flinch, didn’t move, didn’t speak, and for an endless, embarrassing moment Natasha thought she’d have to walk out the door with her pride as well as her heart in tatters.

Finally, something shifted in his eyes, cold wariness replaced by a flicker of warmth, and he gestured to the armchairs. “Please be seated.”

Not exactly the answer she’d been hoping for but a start nonetheless. At least he hadn’t kicked her out, and by his softening posture, she might get the answers she hoped for yet.

After sitting in the chair opposite, he regarded her with a suspicious stare.

“I didn’t say I was leaving Melbourne. You chose to interpret it that way.”

“But why leave Telford Towers? I thought you liked it there from what you said, and after the time we spent together…” she trailed off, surprised by the sudden flash of fire in his eyes.

“That was a business arrangement.”

The fire she glimpsed quickly dimmed to glacial coldness, matching his icy, clipped tone.

“Which you reneged on,” she muttered, with a scowl.

He froze, his glare so chilling she had to resist the urge to rub the goosebumps from her arms.

“Was the cheque not suitable compensation?”

She rolled her eyes. “The cheque was fine. In fact, it was very generous, but that’s not what I meant and you know it.”

“I have other business to attend to this week and taking part in your hotel’s publicity would not have fit in.” His stoic expression didn’t change. “I made a business decision, nothing personal.”

Natasha sagged against the plump cushions.Nothing personal…

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