“Thank goodness,” she murmured.
He wrapped his arms around her and it felt entirely different than it had with Robert. She stared into his eyes and felt a shockwave roll through her. “When did you learn to dance?”
“A generous woman taught me during medical school,” he said, drawing her closer, yet not too close.
Bridget felt a spike of envy but forced it aside. “She did an excellent job.”
He chuckled. “It was all preparation,” he said. “Everything we do is preparation for what waits for us in the future.”
“I would have to be quite arrogant to think your preparation was for me,” she said, feeling light-headed.
“You look beautiful tonight,” he said, clearly changing the subject. “I hate having to share you with anyone else.”
Her stomach dipped. “It’s part of who I was born to be. Duty calls,” she said.
“But what does Bridget want?” he challenged. “Meet me in the foyer in fifteen minutes.”
“How?” she asked.
“You’ll figure it out,” he said.
Chapter Five
She would figure it out, Bridget thought as she surreptitiously glanced at the diamond-encrusted watch that had belonged to her grandmother. Two minutes to go and she was supposed to be introduced to the crowd within the next moment.
“As we continue to introduce our honored guests, we’d like to present Her Highness, Princess Bridget Devereaux of the country of Chantaine.”
Bridget stood and smiled and waved to the applauding crowd. She hadn’t known she was a table head, but it wasn’t unusual for event organizers to put her in the spotlight given the chance. Because of her title, she was a source of curiosity and interest.
Spotting Ryder leaning against the back wall as he pointed to his watch, she quickly squeezed her hand together and flashed her five fingers, indicating she needed more time. Then she sank into her seat.
Robert leaned toward her. “I was cheated out of my dance. We need to hit the floor again.”
“I wish I could, but my ankle is hurting,” she said.
Robert scowled. “Maybe because of the man who cut in on our dance.”
She lifted her shoulders. “Perhaps it’s the long day catching up with me.”
“You’re too generous. We could try a slow dance,” he said in a low voice.
“Oh no, I couldn’t hurt your feet that way,” she said. “But I would like to freshen up. Please excuse me,” she said and rose, wondering why she was going to such extremes to meet Ryder when she was supposed to be concentrating on making an appearance.
Her heart was slamming against her rib cage as she tried to take a sideways route through the tables along the perimeter of the room. With every step, part of her chanted This is crazy—this is crazy. But she kept on walking, so she must indeed be crazy. She stepped into the foyer and glanced around the area.
Something snagged her hand. She glanced over her shoulder and spotted Ryder as he pulled her with him down a hallway. “Where are we—”
“Trust me,” he said and pulled her toward the first door they came upon. It was an empty dark room with a stack of chairs pushed against a wall.
“What are we doing?” she asked, breathlessly clinging to him.
“Hell if I know,” he said, sliding his hands through her hair and tilting her head toward his. “I feel like a car with no brakes headed straight for you.”
“So, we’re both crazy,” she said.
“Looks that way,” he said and lowered his mouth to hers.
Her knees turned to water and she clung to him. His strength made her feel alive despite how tired she felt from her long day of travel. Shocked at his effect on her, she loved the sensation of his hard chest against her breasts. She wanted to feel his naked skin against hers. She growled, unable to get close enough.
He swore under his breath as his hands roamed over her waist and up to the sides of her breasts. “I can’t get enough of you,” he muttered and took her mouth in a deep kiss again.
She felt dizzy with a want and need she denied on a regular basis. It was as if she was suffering from a more delicious version of altitude sickness. His mouth against hers made her hotter with every stroke of his tongue. More than anything, she wanted to feel him against her.
“Ryder,” she whispered, tugging at his tie and dropping her mouth to his neck.
He gave a groan of arousal. “Come home with me. Now,” he said, squeezing her derriere with one hand and clasping her breast with the other.
Too tempted for words, she felt the tug and pull of duty and courtesy over her own needs. Bloody hell, why couldn’t she just this once be selfish, irresponsible and rude? A sound of complete frustration bubbled from her throat. Because she just couldn’t. She was in the States on official business from Chantaine and she’d been assigned to represent a cause important to her and her people.
“I can’t,” she finally managed. “It would just be wrong and rude and it’s not just about me. I’m sorry,” she whispered.
“I don’t know what it is about you, but you make me want to be more reckless than I’ve ever been in my life. More reckless than flying down Deadman’s Hill on my bicycle with no hands when I was ten.”
Bridget felt the same way, but she was holding on by the barest thread of self-restraint. Suddenly the door whooshed open and closed, sending her heart into her throat. Her head cleared enough to realize this situation could provide the press with an opportunity to paint her family in a bad light.
She held her breath, waiting for a voice, but none sounded.
“It’s okay,” he said as if he understood without her saying a word. “Whoever opened the door must have glanced inside and not spotted us. I’ll leave first, then you wait a minute or two before you leave. I’ll warn you if it looks like there’s a crowd waiting for you.”
She paused, then nodded slowly.
Ryder gave her shoulders a reassuring squeeze and kissed her quickly, then walked toward the door. Bridget stood frozen to the floor for several breaths and gave herself a quick shake. She moved to the door and listened, but the door was too thick. She couldn’t hear anything. Counting to a hundred, she cracked open the door and peeked outside. No crowd. No photogs. Relief coursed through her and she stepped outside.
“Your Highness, I was worried about you,” Robert said from behind her.
Her stomach muscles tightened and she quickly turned. “Robert, how kind of you.”
“What were you doing in there?” he asked.
“My sense of direction is dismal,” she said. “I went right when I should have turned left. Thank you for coming to my rescue. Now I can return to our table.”
He slid his hand behind her waist and she automatically stiffened, but he seemed to ignore her response. “We can leave, if you like. I could take you to my condo….”
“Again, you’re being kind, but we’re here for an important cause.” “Afterward—”
“It’s been a full day for me flying from Chicago. I appreciate your understanding that I’ll be desperate to finally retire,” she said. One of her advisers had instructed her that one should speak to another person as if they possessed good qualities … even if they didn’t.
“Another time, then,” Robert