Page 61 of The Princess and the Rogue

“You think he’s our spy?” Ben asked.

“It’s more than likely, from what Anya—from what the princess says.”

Ben and Alex exchanged an eyebrows-raised look as they caught his unintentional slip.

Seb cursed himself again. It was hard to think of her as a title when he’d held the real woman in his arms. She wasn’t some abstract concept. She was a warm, beautiful, sensuous—

No. No no no. Even thinking of her in that way was probably treasonous.

Annoyed with himself, he shrugged out of his coat, loaded his firearm with brisk efficiency, and took up position on his stomach on the ground, propped up on one elbow, leg raised at a right angle toward his hip to act as balance. Alex and Ben did the same, on either side of him.

He rested his cheek on the wooden stock and looked down the sight on the top of the barrel. With his left eye closed, he positioned the upright pin in the middle of theVand aimed at the paper target at the far end of the room.

He cleared his mind. He became aware of his pulse, his breathing. He slowed his breaths, waiting for the pause between heartbeats before he squeezed the trigger. The paper target quivered as the shot hit the center. He reloaded with brisk efficiency.

Bloody woman. She’d lied to him, manipulated him. He hated to be controlled, either by others or his environment. That was one of the reasons he’d joined the Rifles instead of the regular army. As a Rifleman, he was, more often than not, in control. The one with the target in his sights. The balance of life or death hinged on the pressure of his finger and the accuracy of his eye.

He enjoyed the same feeling of omnipotence overseeingthe gaming floor at the Tricorn, watching those below risk it all on the turn of a card. Such foolish whimsy was not for him. He liked being master of his fate.

And yet when it came to Anya—no,Princess Denisova—he had no control whatsoever. The bloody woman had played him for a fool. He’d been her little experiment, a panting dupe to relieve her of her unwanted virginity and to satisfy her sexual curiosity.

The fact that it had been the best sex of his life infuriated him even more, since there was clearly no hope of a repeat performance. Not now, not ever.

He hit the target again, dead center.

The deceitful little charlatan would appear next week as the virtuous Princess Denisova, as pure and untouched as the driven snow. Men would slaver over her, line up to fill her dance card.

Only he would know how beautiful she looked with her hair spread across his pillows like a river of honey, how her lips grew puffy from kissing. Only he would know the sweet sounds she made when she neared her climax, the scrape of her fingers against his scalp urging him on—

He missed the target completely.

“Bollocks.”

Beside him, Ben chuckled softly. “Finding it hard to concentrate, are we? Something—or someone—on your mind?”

“Bugger off,” Seb grunted.

The problem was, he and Anya were remarkably similar. She was determined to be mistress of her own fate. And while he might deplore her methods, he couldn’t really fault her desire. Not when it burned so strongly in himself. Having met Petrov, he could even understand her need for subterfuge.

Seb sighed. The worst thing about this whole situationwas that for one bizarre moment, back in his study, he’d actually imagined himself married to her… and it hadn’t felt wrong at all.

Which it was, of course. Completely wrong. He didn’t want to be married toanyone, least of all a prickly ice princess who smelled like jasmine and tasted like perfection. Compatibility in bed wasn’t enough to base a marriage on. He only needed to look at the example set by his own parents for a case in point. They were certainly no shining example of matrimonial bliss.

Seb frowned at the distant target. He certainly desired Anya physically, but honesty compelled him to admit that what he felt for her was more complicated than mere lust. Helikedher, with her quick wit and her ridiculous superstitions. He admired and respected her, despite her stubbornness—or maybe because of it. He loved the way she challenged him. She fed his soul, met his energy with her own. In a paradoxical way, she both stimulated and calmed him.

He yearned for her.

“Well, you know we’re with you, whatever you need us to do,” Alex said.

Ben nodded in agreement.

“Sounds like you had quite the week with her at the Tricorn,” Alex prodded. “The princess sounds like a fascinating woman. Brave, too, if she was willing to risk exposure to help us listen to the delegates. I’m sure Emmy and Georgie would get along famously with her.”

Seb let out a noncommittal grunt. “They’ll get to meet her at the ball. And she’s not fascinating; she’s irritating. Always issuing demands and ignoring my orders. I spent the entire week trying not to strangle her.”

With a flash, he remembered Alex and Ben urging him to find some gorgeous someone who irritated him enough to want to strangle her. Seb blinked. Anya wasthatsomeone. He wanted to scold her and hug her simultaneously. He wanted to show her off to the world and keep her all to himself.

Bugger.

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