Free [Montacroix Royal Family Series 02] - The Prince & the Showgirl by Joann Ross Page A

striped T-shirt, short black skirt, and black beret tilted over her blond hair that brought to mind an Apache dancer.
    "I hope you don't think I have a habit of lurking in the darkness like a phantom to frighten women, Mademoiselle Sabrina."
    "Of course not. Your Highness." She used his title as protocol demanded. But refusing to give him the upper hand, she dispensed with the accompanying curtsy that Dixie's ubiquitous tour book had stated was appropriate behavior. "But, you did surprise me. I didn't know you were in the theater."
    "I finished a qualifying run and decided to come listen to your rehearsal."
    He'd found her performance spellbinding.
    Sabrina waited for Burke to say something about their rehearsal. When he didn't, she forced down her disappointment and said, "How did you finish?"
    Her lips were a natural dusty rose. Once again he found himself fantasizing about their taste. "Finish?"
    "You said you'd just finished a qualifying run. So how did you do?"
    "Oh, that." He shrugged, his mind not at all on the race. Instead he pictured making love with this woman on the teak deck of the royal yacht while the craft bobbed gently on the sparkling waters of Lake Losange. "I finished first."
    His tone was matter-of-fact, but his eyes were unnervingly intimate, making Sabrina feel off balance. It was not a feeling she cared for.
    "Congratulations."
    "Thank you."
    The formally polite conversation came to another lingering halt as they stood there, inches apart, studying each other.
    Finally Sabrina couldn't take Burke's silent scrutiny another moment. She folded her arms over the front of her striped shirt and said, "Well?"
    "Well?" Burke repeated.
    Her palms were damp with nerves. Such weakness irritated Sabrina. Pushing an impatient hand through her thick fall of wheat blond hair, she said, "Well, will we do?"
    Lord, she had beautiful hands, Burke considered.
    A vision of her slim fingers with those daring red fingernails slowly unfastening the buttons of his shirt, then pressing provocatively against his bare chest flashed seductively through his mind.
    Burke slid his hands into the pockets of his jeans and frowned.
    Protocol and impeccable manners befitting royalty had been drilled into him by first his father, then a series of strict German nuns, and, finally, the harsh headmaster of the British boys' military academy he'd attended before reading law and banking at Oxford. His mind never wandered, even during the most excruciatingly dull conversations and never, in all his thirty-six years, had his body responded so mutinously to the mere proximity of any woman. In truth, when a man was wealthy, unattached and reasonably good-looking, women were in steady supply. That being the case, Burke had always taken members of the opposite sex somewhat for granted.
    But dammit, he wanted Sabrina. He had wanted her from that first blinding moment their eyes had met across the palace dining room, and although he'd steadfastly avoided the impossibly sexy woman for three entire days, all he'd managed to do was increase his craving for her.
    "You will more than do , mademoiselle. You and your equally lovely sisters will set the standard."
    "That's very kind of you to say."
    Her warm, throaty voice curled around Burke like smoke.
    The absolute truth was that he was having more and more trouble remembering what they were talking about. "I am extremely grateful that you have agreed to perform for my coronation ceremonies."
    Once again Sabrina felt herself succumbing to dual feelings of both discomfort and curiosity. For the first time in her life, she finally understood why that proverbial moth was drawn to the deadly flame of the funeral pyre.
    "Well, we're certainly grateful for the opportunity." She brushed her hair behind her shoulder with a quick, absent flick. "And we're definitely looking forward to performing for you."
    Her words amused him, although he managed to keep the humor from showing on his face. She was a liar. But such