She looked down at her forearms, seeing the gooseflesh there. Why did he have to affect her so violently when no other man had managed to inspire so much as a flicker of her attraction?
She bit the inside of her cheek with frustration and turned to begin walking back to her apartments—only to find a large male frame blocking her path.
‘Good evening, Printsessa.’
CHAPTER THREE
‘I SEE THEY have released you... Mr Lazarov.’ The Princess straightened her shoulders defensively, moving a long silken curtain of vibrant red hair away from her face as she directed her gaze upon him.
Roman ignored the strange tightening in his stomach at the way she said his name, focusing on her pale features to better read her mood.
She seemed less colourful than he remembered—as if something had stolen the fire he had witnessed earlier in the day, both at the racetrack and afterwards.
‘Once they realised their mistake they were quite accommodating. I hope you were not worried for my welfare.’
‘If it were my choice I would have had you detained for the night.’
She held her chin high as she delivered the blow, but Roman saw the telltale convulsive movement in her throat as she took a breath. He leaned casually against a nearby column, raising a single brow in challenge.
Far from bowing under his scrutiny, she held his gaze evenly. ‘I assume you are here to make your apology?’
Roman fought the urge to laugh. ‘I’m no stranger to handcuffs, Princess.’ He smiled darkly. ‘It would take more than five hours in a cushy palace detainment room to force me to my knees.’
Her gaze lowered a fraction and Roman gave in to his mirth, a darkly amused smile spreading across his lips.
‘I don’t want you to be on your...’ She shook her head, exhaling hard. She crossed her arms below her chest—a gesture likely meant in defence, but all it served to do was draw his attention to the resulting swell at the neckline of her delicate yellow dress.
‘Well, you are free to go,’ she said, sarcasm dripping from her tone as she gestured towards the door to the main palace.
For the first time in his life Roman was at a complete loss as to what to say. How he had not recognised that she was a royal instantly, he did not know. The woman before him seemed to exude class and sophistication in every inch of her posture. She eyed him with suspicion, her brows lowering in a mixture of challenge and defence.
He should have left the moment he had been freed, and yet he had sought her out. He had told himself he needed to apologise, but right now, remembering the honest arousal in her eyes as he’d been pressed close to her... He wasn’t feeling quite so apologetic.
He stood taller, hardening his voice. ‘In case you are planning another escape, the tunnel has been blocked. It is no longer passable.’
‘You certainly work fast,’ she said quietly, leaning back against the lip of the fountain. ‘I assume the Sheikh asked you to make sure my cage was good and tight?’
‘Your...cage?’
She was oblivious to his confusion. ‘Of course it matters to no one that I am an adult with free will. By all means let him have the run of the palace. There will be bars installed on my bedroom windows next.’
Roman raked a hand across the shadow beginning to grow along his jaw. He allowed her to a rant a moment, before clearing his throat pointedly. ‘You seem upset.’
‘“Upset” does not even begin to cover it. Everything about today has been unbearable.’
Something about the faraway look in her eyes bothered him. It was as though she were on the edge of a complete meltdown, and he worried that it was his mistake that had brought her there. Perhaps there was a need for his apology after all—much as it pained him to admit it.
‘Princess, I need you to understand that I am not in the habit of holding a woman against her will,’ he said solemnly. ‘Earlier...when I searched you...’
She looked back at him, her lashes half lowered with something dark and unspoken. ‘Will you be telling your fearsome Sheikh about that, I wonder?’
‘The Sheikh is not the villain you seem to think he is,’ Roman said quietly, inwardly grimacing at the thought of telling his best friend how he had manhandled his future wife. ‘I have never known someone as loyal and dedicated.’
‘Perhaps the two of you should get married, then,’ she said snidely.
‘I did not expect an actual princess to be quite so...cutting.’ He pressed a hand to his chest in mock injury. ‘Is it any wonder I mistook you for a common thief?’
That earned him the hint of a smile from her lips. The movement lit up her eyes ever so slightly and he felt a little triumphant that he had caused it.