Free The Princess and the Duke by Allison Leigh Page B

question, she suspected.
    “Enough.”
    “Enough of a personal life, or enough with my questions?”
    “Either.”
    She folded her arms, studying him. “Did it bother you? That I called you Pierce just now?”
    “Of course not.”
    She was almost enjoying this. The unflappable colonel was generally a stickler for protocol. He had been ten years ago, and he’d been growing more so ever since. “Well, then?”
    “What do you want to know, Your Royal Highness?” His expression was shuttered, belying his easy tone. “My life is an open book for you.”
    “Hardly.” Amazed at her audacity, she reached over and smoothed her finger along the surface of the bars pinned on his shirt. “Actually, I know very little about you.”
    “Would you like to review my vitae? I’ll have my secretary fax you one.”
    On anyone else, she would have taken the response for sarcasm. But with Pierce it was simply too difficult to tell.
    “Personally,” she clarified. She went around her desk to her briefcase and plucked out the newspaper Lillian had handed her. She flipped it open and tapped the photo that had captured them together on the terrace. “It says right there in the paper, Colonel. Elusive. ”
    He barely glanced at the photo, making his disinterest clear. “Elusive implies there is something to elude.”
    “Or someone.”
    His lips twisted slightly. “Would it make you happier if I were to tell you that there is a woman I’m eluding? Or who is eluding me?”
    She slowly folded the paper and set it on her desk. “I don’t know what would make me happy,” she said. The honesty was more than a little painful. “Is there someone?” The words came without volition, and she wished she could draw them back.
    His eyes were more silver than green today, she thought fancifully as his gaze seemed to pin her in place. There was no possible way he would answer such a question from her. It was beyond rude.
    “Yes, there is someone.” His lips twisted a little. “Though neither one of us is particularly successful at eluding the other, lately.”
    It felt like a blow to her midsection. Though there was no logical reason for his words to hurt. He was a successful, powerful, extremely charismatic man. He probably had a litter of women of whom she knew nothing. Yet he’d said someone. “Who is she?”
    His thick, spiky lashes were very dark around his striking eyes. “I don’t believe this is an—” his jaw cocked a little “—appropriate conversation, Your Royal Highness.”
    “Ah, yes.” She forced a smile. “The age-old necessity of always being appropriate. Dressing appropriately. Behaving appropriately. Never, ever forgetting the most appropriate deportment under any and all circumstances.” She was staring at his mouth again. Now that was hardly appropriate.
    “Your behavior has never been less than exemplary.”
    “Coming from nearly anyone else, that would sound like fawning.” She was accustomed to dealing with men of power. And there was no question the colonel was very much a man of power. Yet he always maintained that edge of respect for her position. And, interestingly, managed to do so without relinquishing one iota of his sense of self. His own confidence. His position. He was neither overbearing nor subservient. And he fascinated her as much as ever.
    More than ever.
    “And,” she added wryly, “it is not entirely accurate.” She tapped the newspaper.
    “It’s just a photo. Doesn’t have to mean a thing.”
    “Megan and Jean-Paul thought all the speculation splashed about them in the papers meant nothing, as well. Until everyone in the land seemed to consider their relationship their business. You’ll have to assure your lady friend that these photos really were nothing.” Meredith was proud of her breezy tone. Though, frankly, she wanted to retch.
    It appalled her that she could be jealous of a faceless woman, someone who’d been allowed entry into Pierce’s personal life. She was too