Free Wedded for His Royal Duty by Susan Meier Page B

from her. “No point in going overboard.”
    Especially since these feelings were amazingly different. Warm. Happy. The kind of feelings he’d run from his entire life.

CHAPTER SIX
    A LEX DIRECTED HER to a powder room, where she removed her gown and slipped into the sundress she’d squished into her little clutch purse. She walked out, handed her gown to him and watched him drop it to the floor about halfway down a discreet hallway. Then he walked her to a back door.
    He motioned for her to go before him into a thin, quiet hall. “This corridor is private. Even servants aren’t allowed to use it.”
    They reached the elevator and he pressed the button. The doors opened.
    She waited a beat. Not quite sure what she wanted until she realized she was waiting for him to kiss her good-night—though she wasn’t quite sure why. This was a ruse with a purpose. Not real. The only time they had to pretend they liked each other was when someone was watching. And no one was watching—
    Hadn’t he reminded her of that?
    He stepped back. His hand on the elevator door, holding it open, but now a good two feet away from her, he said, “Good night.”
    Disappointment fluttered through her. “Good night.”
    She stepped into the elevator, believing herself certifiable. Why the hell would she possibly have stood there like a ninny expecting him to kiss her...?
    Because she’d seen the odd looks he’d given her, caught him staring at her face and gazing into her eyes, and knew he was beginning to like her.
    Still, only an idiot would have missed how he’d changed when he started talking about the woman he’d loved. The one who had died.
    As the elevator rose to her floor, her heart caught a bit at the thought of his loss. She’d never lost anyone. Never really had her heart broken, but he had. He hadn’t just lost his first love. His mother had died. He’d been through things she’d never even considered. It was no wonder he lived a surface life. Hid his feelings. Tried to pretend he didn’t have feelings. He was protecting himself.
    She couldn’t fault him for that, even if it did disappoint her that he’d rushed her out, and hadn’t made good on the promise that they’d make a trail of clothes.
    She almost giggled at the devilishness of that, but caught herself. He wouldn’t have swooned at the sight of her stripping. Though she couldn’t say the same for watching him take off his shirt—
    The elevator arrived at her floor and she sighed. Why was she thinking like this?
    Because he was good-looking.
    Because he was smart.
    Because he trusted her enough to tell her about her dad, to make her a co-conspirator.
    And tonight he’d told her about his lost love.
    The few days they’d spent together they’d been forced to be brutally honest. She hadn’t just been honest with him; he’d been honest with her. And, God help her, she’d liked it.
    Like it? Or liked him?
    She squeezed her eyes shut. She didn’t know. But the evening had been different than she’d expected. Very different. Instead of struggling to keep her dignity while he tried to impress the servants with his sexual prowess, they’d talked.
    And it had been nice.
    No, better than nice. It had been one of the best nights of her life.
    She shook her head as a crazy thought filled it.
    What if pretending to be involved, being co-conspirators, put them in each other’s company enough that they actually grew to like each other?
    He was confiding in her. She was relaxing with him. Was it so far-fetched to think that a charade actually set them up to fall in love?
    It might not be far-fetched but it did sound a hell of a lot like wishful thinking. Especially since a few short days before they’d been at odds.
    Still, when she went to bed that night, she thought of telling him that her palace was cozy and she smiled. She wouldn’t mind sitting in front of a fire with him.
    * * *
    The next day Eva had breakfast with her mom, and spent the morning with her and