‘Virus,’ she muttered, and Casper withdrew his hand as if he’d been scalded, taken aback by the rush of sexual heat that engulfed him. The urge to take possession of her luscious mouth was so strong that he took a step backwards.
‘And is his condition improving?’
‘Yes, but—’
‘That’s all I need to know.’ Needing space, Casper turned and strode purposefully towards the door, but she hurtled after him and caught his arm.
‘No! No, it isn’t all you need to know! “Virus” and “improving” doesn’t give you a clue about what it’s been like for poor Emilio! Those are just facts, but it’s the feelings that matter.’ She waved an arm. ‘He was stuck here with me while they were doing all these tests, and he was worried sick and—’ She broke off, clearly unsettled by his silence. ‘Don’t you care? You’re so cold! Y-you just stand there looking at me, not saying anything. What do you think it’s been like for Emilio being stuck here with me while his little boy is ill?’
Casper scanned her flushed cheeks and lifted an eyebrow in sardonic mockery. ‘Noisy?’
Her hand fell from his arm. ‘I’m only talking too much because you make me nervous.’
Only both of them knew that there was more than nerves shimmering between them.
It was there in her eyes—awareness, excitement, longing.
Distancing himself, Casper yanked open the door. ‘Then I’ll give you a moment to collect yourself.’ He left the room, issued a set of instructions to a waiting security-guard, and then returned to the kitchen to find Holly pacing the room in agitation.
She threw him a reproachful look. ‘All right, maybe I do talk a lot, but that’s just the way I am, and nobody’s perfect. And you’re the one who left me here without even telling me when you’d be back!’ Her chin lifted. ‘Did you think I’d sit in silence for two weeks?’
Casper strode over to the large table and poured himself a glass of water from the jug on the table. ‘It was fairly obvious to me from our last meeting that you and silence have never been intimately acquainted.’
‘Well, I don’t expect you to understand, because you’re obviously the strong silent type who uses words like each one costs a fortune, but I like people. I like talking to them.’
And they liked talking to her, if the buzz of conversation around the kitchen table had been anything to go by.
And she knew about Emilio’s son.
Casper tried to remember a time when people had been that open with him, and realised that they never had been.
Even before tragedy had befallen the royal family of Santallia, he’d lived a life of privileged isolation. Because of his position, people were rarely open and honest.
And he’d learned the hard way that trust was one gift he couldn’t afford to bestow.
Because of his error of judgement, his country had suffered.
And now he had the chance to make amends. To give the people what they wanted.
And as for the rest of it—physically the chemistry between them was explosive, and that was all he required.
He drank deeply and then put the glass down, his eyes locking with hers.
Immediately engulfed by a dangerous tension, Casper tried to analyse what it was about her that he found so irresistibly sexy.
Not her dress sense, that was for sure. Her ancient jeans had a rip in the knees, her pale-pink jumper was obviously an old favourite, and the colour in her cheeks had more to do with the heat coming from the Aga than artful use of make-up.
Accustomed to women who groomed themselves to within an inch of their lives, he found her lack of artifice oddly refreshing.
Her beauty wasn’t the result of expensive cosmetics or the hand of a skilled surgeon. Holly was vibrant, passionate and desperately sexy, and all he wanted to do was flatten her to the table and re-enact every sizzling moment of their first meeting.
Exasperated and baffled by the strength of that inappropriate urge, Casper dragged his eyes back to her face. ‘Emilio failed to pass on the message that you were to buy a new wardrobe.’
‘No. He told me.’ She hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her jeans and the movement revealed a tantalising glimpse of smooth, flat stomach. ‘I just didn’t need anything. What do I need a new wardrobe for? I’ve spent the mornings helping Ivy and the afternoons helping Jim prune the trees in the orchard.’
‘Who is Ivy?’
‘Your housekeeper. She lost her husband eight months ago and she’s been very down, but she has started joining us for lunch, and she’s been talking about—Sorry.’ She raised a hand in wary apology. ‘I forgot you just want facts. OK, facts. I can do that. Ivy. Housekeeper. Depressed. Improving.’ She ticked them off her fingers. ‘How’s that? You’re smiling, so I must have done OK.’
Surprised to discover that he was indeed smiling, Casper shook his head slowly. ‘Your gift for conversation has clearly given you a great deal of information about my staff.’
‘It’s important to understand people you work with.’
‘When I left you here, my intention was not for you to work alongside the staff.’
‘I had to do something with my day. You gave orders that I couldn’t leave the premises. I was trapped here.’
‘You were brought here for your own safety.’
‘Was I?’ Her brilliant green eyes glowed bright with scepticism. ‘Or was I brought here for your safety, so that I couldn’t talk to the press?’
‘That particular boat has already sailed,’ Casper said tightly, his temper flaring at her untimely reminder of just how effectively she’d manipulated the media. ‘You’re here for your protection.’
‘Do you have any idea how weird that sounds?’ Holly glanced pointedly at the rip in her jeans. ‘I mean, one minute I’m a waitress who no one notices unless they want to complain about their food, and the next I’m someone who needs twenty-four-hour protection.’
‘You’re carrying the heir to the throne.’
‘And that’s all that matters?’ She tilted her head to one side, studying his expression. ‘You’ll put aside your personal feelings for me because of the baby?’
What personal feelings?
Emotion had no place in his life.
On one previous occasion he’d allowed himself to be ruled by emotion and the consequences had been devastating.
As far as he was concerned, his relationship with Holly was a business transaction, nothing more.
Casper stared into her anxious green eyes, wondering why she didn’t look more triumphant.
She’d successfully secured a future for herself and her child.
Or was she suddenly realising just how high a price she’d paid for that particular social leap?
‘I don’t want to discuss this again.’ Crushing any future urge on her part to dwell on the unfortunate circumstances of their wedding, Casper strolled forward, realising that he hadn’t yet revealed the reason for his return.
‘Y—you’re a bit crabby. Perhaps you need to eat,’ she said helpfully, scooping up a plate from the table. ‘Try one of Pietro’s pastries. It’s a new recipe and they’re really delicious.’
‘I’m not hungry.’ His intention had just been to deliver his orders and then spend the afternoon catching up on