Page 32 of Incognito

Remarkable? What did he mean by that?

For the last eighteen months, after Clay had battered her self esteem to the point of no return, she’d felt decidedly unremarkable. Foolish, deflated, and stressed, but remarkable? Uh-uh.

So to have Dante label her as such, to have him look at her like he’d never seen anything so wondrous… a woman could have her head turned by a guy like this.

“Please say yes.” His enigmatic smile make her breath hitch.

She opened her mouth to say no. Her lips formed the word, her tongue rolled around it, but somehow, when a word actually came out it sounded suspiciously like a muttered yes.

“Yes?” His eyebrows arched and his smile widened.

Sighing in resignation, she nodded. “Why not? But let me warn you, your publicity duties next week are going to be hell.”

He laughed, its rich warmth rolling over her like the sun’s rays on a perfect summer’s day. “As they say in your country, bring it on?”

“You asked for it,” she said, joining in his laughter, her heart quaking.

This felt too good.

The rich garlic and oregano aromas wafting from the kitchen, the cosy ambience, the muted candlelight, all served to highlightthat tonight, she sat opposite one of the nicest, sexiest men she’d ever met.

She liked Dante, genuinely liked him. The kind of ‘like’ that could easily evolve into something more; if she was prone to craziness.

Thankfully, she favoured pragmatism over madness. She’d always been sensible, responsible, dedicated.

Then why the niggling feeling that now could be a good time to take a chance on crazy?

17

“Who is this woman you are bringing to Paolo’s party?”

Gina whirled on Dante, her dark curls swinging across her shoulders in riotous abandon, the same way she’d worn her hair since her teens. She still had the same pouting bottom lip, and self-indulgent, princess expression too.

Dante plucked a stuffed olive from the antipasto platter, popped it in his mouth, and chewed slowly. He’d never given in to his sister’s bossy ways and no way in hell he’d start now.

“Well?” Gina planted one hand on a curvy hip and glared, her dark eyes flashing with anger at his recalcitrance in responding. “Who is she?”

Knowing he’d have to give her something so she’d quit bugging him, he channelled nonchalance and shrugged.

“Natasha Telford is a friend.” No matter how much he’d like her to be more. “That’s all you need to know.”

He refused to tell his sister anymore than that. The more Gina knew, the more she’d probe and interrogate—and make Natasha’s life a living hell at the party.

He had no intention of putting Natasha through that. She didn’t deserve it after all she’d done for him. In fact, no one deserved to be on the receiving end of Gina’s irrepressiblebrand of curiosity on steroids. When his sister wanted to know something, she wouldn’t quit.

Gina pouted for another second before shrugging and turning away. “You have manyfriendsaround the world. What’s another one?”

“Natasha is not like that.” He jumped in too quickly and mentally cursed. His quick defence of a friend would pique Gina’s rampant curiosity for sure.

“She isn’t?” Gina quirked an eyebrow and smirked, knowing she had him on the back foot. “Then what is she like?”

Muttering a soft curse, he said, “She’s a nice young woman and I don’t want you giving her a hard time. Do you understand?”

“Sure.” Gina’s smug grin did little to assuage his concerns.

If anything, they intensified. Maybe he’d been wrong to invite Natasha to the party? It had seemed like a great idea at the time. He wanted to get closer to her, to spend as much time as he could with her, and she’d been amazing in going along with everything he’d asked of her.

He hoped that by spending time with his family, she would see another side to him, a side not entrapped by his heritage. She would see a man who enjoyed riding motorcycles and not shaving, rather than a prince who’d be back in Calida in a few weeks, ruling in the job he’d been born to, reluctantly engaged to a woman he didn’t love.

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