Page 55 of Incognito

He’d analysed it, considered it from every angle, and it didn’t make sense.

She had no reason to visit him and accuse him of lying about leaving, even less reason to discuss the connection they’d shared. Her bluntness had surprised him, caught him off-guard,but he’d quickly dismissed the whole thing as a desperate attempt on her part to get him involved in her hotel’s publicity again.

However, she hadn’t mentioned any of that apart from calling him out for reneging, and when he’d lost his cool at the end about seeing her with her ex, the devastation in her eyes had nearly killed him. He’s glimpsed raw, savage pain before she’d run away, her sobs tearing at his soul.

He’d almost run after her before his damned pride kicked in.

She’d made her choice, who was he to interfere in her life? If anyone knew what that was like, he did.

His whole life had been open to scrutiny, available for anybody and everybody to run interference. He’d accepted it a long time ago but that didn’t mean he had to like it. He respected Natasha’s freedom of choice, almost envied it, even if the thought of her with her ex made him want to jump off the castle’s highest tower.

Why visit him in his new hotel?

It all came back to the same question, reverberating around his head until he could quite happily thump it against the ancient stone parapet just to clear it.

She hadn’t acted like a woman trying to suck up to him for business sake. In fact, the longer he pondered her motivation, the harder he found it to shake off the conviction that she’d acted like a woman who cared about him.

Ridiculous. Wishful thinking. He needed to forget her. He had a life of responsibility ahead of him, a life as a husband, a life as a king.

Starting tomorrow, he’d take the first step in doing the right thing, the honourable thing, the type of sacrifice expected of a ruler.

He would choose a suitable bride and make the most of it, just like leaders of Calida had done for centuries before him.

Starting tomorrow…

For today, he would purge his mind of Natasha’s memory as best he could. And pray that his future bride sparked as much passion, as much interest, as she had.

30

“How’s my favourite girl?”

Natasha looked up from the ledger she’d been poring over, smiling for the first time in a week.

“Welcome home, Dad.”

She flung herself into his arms as she had as a little girl, needing a comforting hug now more than she ever had back then.

“I take it you missed me?” Roger Telford stepped out of her embrace, and held her at arms’ length. “If that’s the type of welcome home I get, remind your dear old dad to go away more often.”

Natasha chuckled. “You make it sound like I take you for granted when you’re here.”

“Just kidding, princess.” He tapped her on the nose and sank into the nearest chair, while her heart somersaulted.

She’d had an entire week to put the Dante fiasco behind her, seven long days to concentrate on business and throw herself into making the hotel flourish now they owned it outright. One hundred and sixty-eight endless hours to fill with girlie chats with Ella, work and sleep, anything to stop her thinking about Dante and how wrong she’d been about him.

And all it took was her dad to call her by an ancient pet name and it all flooded back, every embarrassing detail of how she’d virtually thrown herself at Dante and how he’d rebuked her.

“Is everything all right?”

Mustering a smile with effort, she nodded. “Fine. And you will be too when I tell you my news.”

She needed to distract her dad and quickly. Since the Clay debacle he’d been extra protective and if he got a whiff there was something wrong—or worse, it had to do with a man—he’d never drop it.

“What news?” His jovial smile vanished, the wrinkles around his eyes deepening as he fixed her with a worried stare.

“It’s good news, Dad, and I didn’t tell you while you were in Perth because I knew you’d probably fly straight back here.”

“This doesn’t sound good. Now sit down before I get a crick in my neck.”

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