Page 6 of Incognito

At that moment, Natasha walked into the bar, and his penchant for admiring the décor evaporated.

She looked incredible, and he smiled as he waved her over, mesmerised by the sway of her hips in poured-on denim, the way the lamplight highlighted toffee tints in her hair, and howher overall outfit combined sassy casual with innate elegance. Though he guessed that had more to do with the woman inside the clothes than the garments themselves.

Natasha Telford, quite simply, took his breath away.

Now he only hoped she had an open mind to go along with his plan.

“Glad you could make it,” he said, rising to his feet and pulling out her chair.

“No problem.” She inclined her head in thanks and sat, gesturing to a waiter behind the bar. “What would you like?”

“Espresso, please.” And a healthy dose of her co-operation.

“Make that two,” she said, smiling at the waiter in a way that made his pulse roar.

Why couldn’t she give him one of those smiles? Had she been romantically involved with the waiter?

Dante studied her carefully, watching for flushed cheeks, a coy expression, a change in body language, but he came up blank. Instead, while he’d been making irrational judgements, it looked like she’d been studying him just as intently.

By the frown marring her brow, he’d come up lacking.

“What did you want to discuss?” She asked, sounding less than impressed.

She sat ramrod straight, her hands clasped firmly in her lap, her expression determined, and Dante had a sneaking suspicion his plan would hit a major snag; in the form of one beautiful wet blanket.

“I need your help.”

“So you said earlier.”

Her caustic tone didn’t inspire confidence and he continued, choosing his words carefully.

“My visit to your country is multi-faceted. Official duties, fostering foreign relations, and catching up with family. As you know, my personal assistant made the booking, so everyone isaware I will be staying at your hotel and for how long. What they don’t know is that I’ve arrived on schedule, assumed a different identity, and will have my PA call to say I’ve been delayed by a week. So during this week, I wish to remain anonymous.”

“Why didn’t you let me know your need for anonymity when you booked?”

Good question; he just couldn’t give her an honest answer. How could he explain to a woman he barely knew that the spur of the moment decision had as much to do with a desperate need to escape as his desire to spend time with a nephew he’d hardly seen?

“My extra week here is impromptu and I need some timeout from my duties.”

She raised an eyebrow, a delicate gesture that made him smile. Natasha came across as a vision of feminine loveliness… with a backbone of steel beneath.

“I see.” By the frown creasing her brow, he seriously doubted that. “You’re here for family reasons?”

“Uh-huh.”

If only it were that simple.

“What happens if someone recognises you?” Her eyes narrowed as they swept over him, coolly assessing. “Won’t that scuttle your plan?”

“I’m sure you did your research like most people do when hosting royalty, and I look very different from my offical portraits. And you’ll find that dressed like this,” he gestured at his casual clothes, “I blend in.”

He only just heard her mutter, “That’s debatable,” and he bit back a smile. Good to know she found him palatable.

“Why don’t you have more of an online presence?” She asked, the spark of intelligence in her steady gaze as attractive as the rest of her.

“Calida is a tiny municipality. We have existed for centuries without an influx if tourists, and my mother prefers to keep it that way.”

“But what about paparazzi when you travel? Don’t they want to photograph a playboy prince?”

---