‘I see.’ Nikos strolled back across the room towards her and Kitty felt her pulse-rate quicken with every step he took. He swamped her senses and she was tempted to turn and flee, but when he halted inches from her she saw the gleam of sexual curiosity in his eyes and shock held her immobile. Surely she was wrong? Nikos had dated some of the world’s most beautiful women and it was rumoured that he had been having a white-hot affair with the stunning Hollywood star, Shannon Marsh, for months. It was inconceivable that he could be attracted to a frump like her— wasn’t it? She licked her suddenly dry lips and was startled when the expression in his eyes hardened to a predatory gleam that caused her heart to pound.
‘Something tells me you have a lot to learn, Rina.’
The mockery in his voice was mixed with a blatant sensual message that sent a quiver of excitement down Kitty’s spine. She had led a sheltered life at the palace, and at twenty-six was painfully aware of her sexual inexperience, but the feral heat in Nikos’s eyes was unmistakable, even to a novice like her.
‘I’d better go…and bring you some champagne, Mr Angelaki,’ she said breathlessly, jerking away from him before she gave in to the temptation to close the space between them and press her soft body against the muscled hardness of his. Dangerous thoughts; and instinct warned her he was a man who was way out of her league.
‘Yes, you better had.’ Nikos laughed softly, self-derisively; breaking the web of sexual tension that curvy little waitress had somehow woven around him. ‘Out of interest, how do you know my name?’
‘I’ve seen your photograph, and read about you in the newspapers,’ Kitty admitted, although she did not add that she regularly scanned the tabloids for articles about him or that she was rarely disappointed by his absence in the gossip columns. Nikos Angelaki’s luck at the roulette table was as legendary as his business acumen. He was a gambler and a risk-taker, a high-flier who was frequently snapped by the paparazzi driving around Athens in his Lamborghini with a seemingly inexhaustible supply of beautiful women at his side. ‘You have a reputation as a millionaire playboy with a different blonde on your arm almost every week,’ she said stiffly.
Nikos shrugged carelessly. ‘You shouldn’t believe all you read in the papers, Rina. Some of my “blondes” have lasted much longer than a week, and a few have even made it to a month,’ he added sardonically. ‘But I think my private life is nobody’s business but my own—don’t you?’
‘Absolutely,’ Kitty replied tightly, stung by his rebuke. ‘It’s no concern of mine that you change your women as often as other men change their socks.’
An ominous pause followed her defiant statement, and then Nikos threw back his head and laughed. ‘I wonder if Prince Sebastian is aware that he has a rebel among his staff?’ he drawled, moving before Kitty had time to react, and capturing her chin between his strong fingers. ‘If you’re not careful that sassy mouth could get you into a lot of trouble, Rina.’
She was trapped by his closeness, and the heat from his body mingled with the sensual tang of his aftershave stole around her and held her prisoner. The gleam in his eyes sent a tremor through her, and for a few electrifying seconds she thought he was going to lower his head and kiss her. She held her breath, torn between fear and fascination, and felt a crushing sense of disappointment when he abruptly released her. Of course he hadn’t intended to kiss her; stupid of her to have thought it.
Nikos wondered if she knew how easily he could read her mind—or how tempted he was to accept her unspoken invitation and crush her soft mouth beneath his. It took every ounce of his will power to step away from her and retrace his steps back across the room. ‘Go back to the ballroom before I decide to tell the prince of your reluctance to do the job you are employed to do,’ he said tersely. ‘And, Rina—’ he paused in the doorway of the sitting room ‘—don’t forget my champagne, will you?’
His arrogance was breathtaking. It was on Kitty’s lips to tell him that under Aristo’s ancient laws his lack of respect for a member of the royal family was a serious offence. He was lucky she did not call for the palace guard, and have him thrown out, she thought angrily. She was renowned for her calm and peaceable nature, but she was infuriated by his insolence.
But it was her own idiotic fault that he believed she was a waitress, and, uttering a most unprincesslike curse, she swung on her heels and marched out of the banqueting hall.
CHAPTER TWO
KITTY spent the rest of the evening carefully avoiding Nikos Angelaki, but she could not forget him, or the electricity that had fizzed between them when they had been alone together. No man had ever looked at her the way Nikos had done—with a raw, sexual hunger in his eyes that had evoked a wild longing deep inside her and left her wishing that he had swept her into his arms and made passionate love to her on the banqueting table.
Unable to dismiss her shocking fantasy from her mind, she had been too embarrassed to face him again with the food and champagne he had requested, and had asked one of the staff to serve him. Later, she had hovered behind a pillar, and watched him partner a steady stream of beautiful women on the dance floor. If it hadn’t been for her stupid lie she could have asked Sebastian to introduce them, and maybe he would have asked her to dance. But if she revealed her identity to him now she would look a complete idiot in front of Nikos, and her brother.
She wouldn’t know what to say to him anyway, she acknowledged bleakly. She was hopeless with men. The few fledgling romances she’d had at university had been disastrous and she knew her family despaired of her ever finding a husband. Kitty sighed, weighted down by the familiar feeling that she was a failure. Her dress was uncomfortably tight and tendrils of her hair had come loose and curled about her hot face. She wished the ball were over. She’d spent so long fretting over it and she was glad it was a success but she longed for the quiet solitude of the palace library and her books.
The king had shared her fascination with the history of the Adamas Kingdom, and she treasured her memories of the evenings they had spent together researching their ancestors. Nothing was the same without her father, she thought bleakly. One day soon Sebastian would be crowned King and she would give him her full support, but she missed King Aegeus desperately.
Grief surged through her and she bit her lip, knowing that she must control it as Queen Tia managed to do when she was in public. She was tired of the party, and she stepped through the French doors leading onto the terrace. The night air was warm and heavy with the perfume of jasmine and honeysuckle, and the silence was blissful after the hubbub of voices in the ballroom, but her peace did not last long.
‘Well, well. Kitty Karedes! I didn’t realise it was you. I saw a woman slip furtively out of the ballroom, and assumed she was meeting a lover, but, unless the ice-princess has thawed considerably since we last met, that’s not likely, is it?’
‘Vasilis! I won’t lie and say it’s a pleasure to see you. But the idea of you sneaking out to spy on lovers is wholly believable,’ Kitty replied contemptuously. She glanced at Vasilis Sarondakos, felt the familiar wave of revulsion sweep over her and turned her back on him, hoping he would get the message and leave her alone. But Vasilis was not renowned for his sensitivity.
The Sarondakos family were leading members of Aristo’s aristocracy, and Vasilis’s father, Constantine, had been a close friend of the late king. At eighteen, Kitty had been painfully naïve, and had never had a boyfriend. With her father’s encouragement she had gone on a date with Vasilis, but she had been deeply traumatised when he had subjected her to a drunken assault. His taunts that her voluptuous body was designed for sex had been devastating, but she had been too ashamed to tell her family what had happened, believing Vasilis’s assertion that because she had worn a low-cut dress she had been—in his words— ‘gagging for it’.
The memory of his hot, alcohol-fuelled breath on her skin and his sweaty hands tearing her dress and touching her breasts still haunted her, and when her father had suggested