Although he’d managed to put several countries and a stretch of water between them, he’d failed to wipe Holly from his thoughts. Even the combined demands of complex state business and the successful conclusion to negotiations guaranteeing billions of dollars of foreign investment hadn’t succeeded in pressing the stop button on the non-stop erotic fantasy that had dominated his mind since that day at the rugby.
Even while part of him was angry with her for her ruthless manipulation, another part of his mind was thinking about her incredible legs. He knew she was a liar, but what really stayed in his head was her enticing smile and the taste of her mouth.
And that was fine. Because her manipulation had given him a solution to his problem.
As he approached the house, two uniformed soldiers that he didn’t recognise opened the doors for him, backs ramrod straight, eyes forward.
Casper stopped. ‘Where is Emilio?’
One of them cleared his throat. ‘I believe he is in the kitchen, Your Highness.’
‘The kitchen?’ Casper approached a nervous footman. ‘Since when did my kitchen represent a major security risk?’
‘I believe he is with Miss Phillips and the rest of the staff, sir.’
Having personally delivered the order that Emilio should watch her, Casper relaxed a fraction. Contemplating the difficult two weeks Holly must have had with his battle-hardened security chief, he almost smiled. Emilio had been known to drive soldiers to tears, but he felt no sympathy for her. After all, she was the one who had decided to name him as the father of her unborn baby. She deserved everything she had coming to her.
Striding towards the kitchen with that thought uppermost in his mind, he pushed open the door, astonished to hear the rare sound of Emilio’s laughter, and even more surprised to see his usually reserved Head of Security straighten a clasp in Holly’s vibrant curls in an unmistakeably affectionate manner.
Holly was smiling gratefully and Casper felt like an interloper, intruding on a private moment. Experiencing a wild surge of quite inexplicable anger, he stood in the doorway.
The rest of the staff were eating and chatting, and Emilio was the first to notice him. ‘Your Highness.’ Evidently shocked at seeing the prince in the kitchen, he stiffened respectfully. ‘I was just about to come upstairs and meet you.’
‘But you had other things to distract you,’ Casper observed tightly, strolling into the kitchen and taking in the empty plates and the smell of baking in a single, sweeping glance.
Without waiting for him to issue the order, the various members of his household staff rose to their feet and hastily left the room.
Pietro hesitated and then he, too, melted away without being asked.
Only Emilio didn’t move.
Casper slowly undid the buttons on his long coat. ‘I’m sure you have many demands on your time, Emilio,’ he said softly, but the bodyguard stood still.
‘My priority is protecting Miss Phillips, sir.’
‘That’s true.’ Casper removed his coat and dropped it over the back of the nearest chair. ‘But not,’ he said gently, ‘From me.’
Emilio hesitated and glanced at Holly. ‘You have the alarm I gave you, madam, should you need me for anything.’
There was no missing the affection in Holly’s smile. ‘I’ll be fine, Emilio, but thank you.’
Watching this interchange with speechless incredulity, Casper was engulfed by a wave of anger so violent that it shook him.
Against his will he was transported back eight years, and suddenly he was seeing another woman smiling at another man.
Pain cut through the red mist of his anger, and he glanced down at his hand and realised that he was gripping the back of the chair so tightly his knuckles were white.
‘Your Highness?’ Holly’s voice penetrated his brain. ‘Are you all right?’
Locking down his thoughts with ruthless focus, Casper transferred his gaze to Holly, but the bitter taste of betrayal remained. ‘Emilio is a married man. Do you have no sense of decency?’
‘I—I’m sorry?’
‘I’ve no doubt his wife and child will be sorry, too.’
Her expression changed from concern to anger. ‘How dare you? How dare you turn everything beautiful into something sordid. Emilio and I are friends—nothing more.’ She lifted a hand to her head. ‘Oh God, I can’t believe you’d even think—what is the matter with you? It’s almost as if you believe the worst of people so that you can’t be disappointed.’
Was that what he did? Stunned by that accusation, Casper felt as cold as marble. ‘Despite a short acquaintance, Emilio would clearly die for you.’
‘We’ve been living in each other’s pockets for two weeks—what did you expect? On second thoughts, don’t answer that.’ She took a deep breath. ‘Look, maybe you don’t know me well enough to know I wouldn’t do that, but you know Emilio. He was telling me that he’s been with you for twenty years! How could you think that of someone so close to you?’
Because he knew only too well that it was the people closest to you who were capable of the greatest betrayal. And causing the greatest pain.
Casper released his grip on the chair and flexed his bloodless fingers.
‘Whatever the nature of your relationship, Emilio is in charge of my security. He can’t perform his duties effectively if he’s flirting in the kitchen.’
‘Nor can he perform his duties on an empty stomach. We were eating lunch, not flirting. Or aren’t your staff allowed to eat lunch?’
‘You’re not a member of my staff.’ Casper glanced round the homely kitchen. ‘And there is a formal dining-room upstairs for your use.’
‘It’s as big as a barn, and I don’t want to eat on my own. Where’s the fun in that?’ Her expression made it clear that she thought it should have been obvious that eating alone was a stupid idea. ‘Sorry, but sitting alone at one end of a vast table is a bit sad. I prefer the company of real people, not paintings.’
‘So you’ve been distracting Emilio.’
‘Actually, yes. I’ve been trying to take his mind off his worries.’ Her shoulders stiffened defensively. ‘Did you know that his little boy has been taken into hospital? And he’s been stuck here with me, fretting himself to death while—’
The anger drained from Casper. ‘His son is ill?’
‘Yes, and he—’
‘What is wrong with the child?’
‘Well, it started with a very high temperature. I don’t think his wife was too worried at that point, so she gave him the usual stuff but nothing seemed to bring his temperature down. Then she was putting him to bed when—’
‘What is wrong with the child?’ Impatient for the facts, Casper sliced through her chatter, and she gave him a hurt look.
‘I’m trying to tell you! You’re the one who keeps interrupting.’
Attempting to control his temper, Casper inhaled deeply. ‘Summarise.’
‘I was summarising.’ Affronted, she glared at him. ‘So, his temperature went up and up and then he had a fit, which apparently can be normal for a toddler because they’re hopeless at controlling their temperature, and so they took him in and did some tests and—’
‘That isn’t a summary, it’s a three-act play!’ Exasperated, Casper