Page 7 of Incognito

Her admired her persistence, but the playboy tag when she didn’t know him irked.

“Like this trip, I often travel incognito. I enjoy the luxury of a normal life it affords me.” He shrugged. “When entrusted with business duties, I play my part and am photographed. Otherwise, I am just an ordinary man, which is why I want to spend time with my family for the first leg of this trip.”

He pinned her with a stare that made things happen. “That’s why I need you to accommodate my wish in remaining anonymous for the next week.”

Natasha sat backin the armchair and fixed the prince with a suspicious glare, wondering if he thought she was completely stupid.

Guys like him didn’t flit around countries trying to hide their identity forfamily reasons.They did the cloak and dagger thing for mistresses, or whatever the name was for their hidden love interests.

The prince must have a secret lover, someone he didn’t want the press to get wind of, and that had to be the real reason behind this elaborate farce.

Whatever his rationale, it was none of her business. As long as he revealed his identity at the end of the week, she’d still get the much-needed publicity boost for the Towers.

And after agreeing to play along with his sneaky highness, she had every intention of milking his royal presence for every cent he was worth.

“You don’t look too impressed?”

Silently cursing her expressive face, Natasha said, “What you do in the next week is no concern of mine.”

“That’s where you’re wrong.”

The arrival of their espressos put paid to the questions raging through her brain and she waited until they were alone again to continue.

“I don’t understand.”

“You are the only person who knows my real identity and I want it to stay that way. It is imperative. Do I make myself clear?”

She stared at him in open-mouthed shock. Who did he think he was, talking down to her like that?

Then again, he was a prince and obviously used to ordering people around. Not to mention the guy who would get her family’s business out of crisis.

She’d bite her tongue. For now.

“Perfectly clear,” she said, taking a sip of her coffee, enjoying the caffeine rush and trying not to notice the way his long, tanned fingers wrapped around the glass mug with ease, as if they were made to hold things… caress things…

“Good.” He stared at her over the rim of his mug, those blue eyes capturing her attention and making it impossible to look away no matter how much she wanted to. “How long have you been a concierge?”

His question came out of left field, though she should be grateful. With his probing stare, she’d half expected something more personal.

“Less than a week.”

He lowered his mug, surprise etched across his handsome face. “By your surname, I assumed you were part of the Telford family and held the job for a long time. Maybe I’ve entrusted my secret to the wrong person?”

“Relax,” she said, with her first genuine smile since they first met.

No matter how laidback his highness seemed, this secrecy thing was getting to him. She could see it in the sudden tensing of his shoulders, his rigid neck, his clenched fingers. His mistress must be some woman for him to go to these lengths to protect her identity.

“My father runs Telford Towers and I’ve worked here since I could walk. Our concierge is away for the next twelve weeks on sick leave so I’m filling in for seven days until his temporary replacement starts next week. Does that allay your fears that I’m experienced enough?”

He nodded and visibly relaxed, placing his mug on the table between them and leaning back in his chair. “What do you usually do here?”

“Everything.”

From ensuring the hotel ran smoothly to mediating staff disputes to pampering VIPs, she did it all. She loved everything about this place, had always loved it. Being a part of Telford Towers came as naturally to her as breathing and she couldn’t let it slip away.

Especially when the entire mess with Clay had been her fault.

“Such as?”

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