‘You really didn’t think this through.’
From this angle, all she could see were powerful thighs encased in designer trousers and a pair of expensive leather shoes. She exhaled slowly, realising from the sound of his voice that he must have his face turned towards her. Watching to gauge her reaction.
He was probably congratulating himself on finding her so easily, the brute.
He cleared his throat loudly, waiting for her response.
Olivia pursed her lips and kept her eyes focused straight ahead. She wondered if, perhaps if she waited long enough, he would simply disappear into thin air.
‘You have ten seconds to give up your silent act before I announce your presence to this entire airport.’ He spoke low, his voice a barely contained growl.
She stiffened. ‘You’re bluffing.’
‘Look at me.’
She turned her head at his demand, hardly realising she had obeyed until it was done. His eyes were focused on her, steel-grey and glowing, just as she remembered them. His lips, so full and perfectly moulded, seemed to quirk a little at the sides as his eyes narrowed. It took a moment for her to realise he was silently laughing at her.
‘I was bluffing.’ He smiled in triumph, showing a row of perfectly aligned white teeth.
His smile was aggressively beautiful, just like the rest of him, she thought, with more than a little frustration. She noticed the rather delicious hint of dark stubble that lined his jaw. It somehow made him appear rugged and unrefined, even in his finely tailored clothing. She felt her throat go dry and silently cursed herself.
‘If you’re wondering how I found you, I simply followed the enormous trail of breadcrumbs you left in your wake, Printsessa.’
‘Don’t call me that here,’ Olivia murmured. The hum of noise in the airport was loud enough, but she didn’t want to draw any more attention than was needed.
He raised one brow, but nodded.
Olivia took a sharp breath, a slight tremor audible in her throat. ‘If I asked you to go, and pretend you’d never found me...’
‘That will never happen.’ He half smiled as he spoke the words, a small indentation appearing just left of his lips.
The man had dimples, she thought wildly. That was hardly fair, was it?
Before she could react, he had reached down and grabbed the small document she had been holding tightly in her hands. As she watched, he opened it, tilting his head to one side as he read.
After a long moment he looked up, meeting her eyes with disbelief. ‘You planned to use this?’
‘Initially, yes. But then I thought better of it.’
‘A wise choice, considering identity fraud is a very serious crime. Even for princesses.’
Olivia remained silent, staring down at the red mark on her fingers from where she had clutched the maid’s passport so hard it had almost cut off her circulation.
It had been a careless plan from the start, one borne of desperation and anger. If she had got caught... The thought tightened her throat. Fraud simply wasn’t something that was in her nature, luckily. Meaning that she had come no closer than eight feet from the check-in desk before she had turned on her heel and run. Leaving her sitting on this damned chair for the past two hours, frantically wondering where to go next.
Olivia shook off the ridiculous self-pity and forced herself to get a handle on her emotions. She was emotionally and physically exhausted. Any sleep she had got last night had been plagued by dreams of being trapped in tunnels with no way out, and a man’s voice calling to her from the darkness. When she had finally got up this morning it had been with the grim intent of getting as far away from Monteverre as possible, and yet here she was, less than an hour’s distance from the palace and already captured.
The entire plan had been stupid and impulsive from the start. Honestly, where had she really thought she would go once she’d walked out of the palace gates? She didn’t even have the right to hold her own passport, for goodness’ sake. Everything in her life was planned and controlled by others. She didn’t even have enough freedom to run away properly.
Roman was still looking at her intently. She could feel the heat of his gaze on the side of her face, almost as though he burned her simply by being near. He made her feel as though she were on show and he was the only person in the audience. The intensity of his presence was something she simultaneously wanted to bask in and run far away from.
‘I’m not running from my title.’ She spoke solemnly, knowing he could never understand.
‘Then what are you running from?’ His voice was low and serious, and his gaze still pinned on hers with silvery intensity.
Olivia took a deep breath, knowing this conversation had to end. He was not on her side, no matter how sympathetic he pretended to be.
‘It’s not safe for you to be wandering alone.’ His voice took on a steely edge. ‘I feel responsible for your decision to leave the palace. Perhaps you felt that yesterday reflected badly on your future husband—’