Читать книгу The King's Captive Virgin - Natalie Anderson - Страница 11
Оглавление‘YOUR HIGHNESS—’
The door opened and Giorgos released her so quickly Kassie almost fell. Instantly his hand shot out and gripped her arm to support her. His grip was hard. So were his eyes—like banked furnaces—and his gaze lasered through her. Assessing. Judging.
Dazed, she could see his thoughts racing. But she had no idea how the man could possibly think after experiencing that...that...
She recovered her balance in another moment and surreptitiously tugged her arm free, fighting to catch her breath quietly. Mortification flooded her. She’d just been caught in the King’s arms like some shameless courtesan. But at the same time the interruption was welcome, because she had no idea where that might have gone if they hadn’t been broken apart like that. She’d never done that or felt that—she’d been right to be wary of him. He was dangerous. And fascinating.
Sensation swirled around her body and embarrassment blushed over every inch of her skin. She realised the King was still staring at her, a thunderstruck expression on his face.
‘I apologise, Your Highness, but we have found—’
‘What?’ He whirled away to bark at the man.
‘These were hidden in the Princess’s wardrobe.’ The man held out some fabric and what looked like a knotted blue wig.
From the frown on his face it was clearly something Giorgos recognised. Kassie suspected the truth now—the woman in the blue wig—Eleni’s disguise.
‘Leave it on the table,’ Giorgos snapped. ‘And close the door behind you.’
The man’s face was completely blank as he swiftly left the room.
‘You’re searching her private things?’ Kassie whipped up her scorn, desperate to put space between them.
‘My sister is missing,’ he seethed. ‘Of course I am searching her rooms for clues. I’ll do whatever I have to do to find her.’
Her pulse thundered. ‘And that’s what that kiss was?’ He’d thought he could seduce her into spilling all the secrets she didn’t even hold?
‘Sorry—was I too gentle? You wanted the chains?’ He suddenly smiled—a wicked, dangerous smile, as if he knew something she didn’t. ‘You’re the one fixated on becoming my prisoner. You know what that tells me about you?’
She glared at him. She didn’t want to know what he thought of her now. She just wanted to get out of here—immediately—so she could try to assess and control the incoherent emotions coursing through her body.
‘You obviously know everything. Doubtless you’ve read some dossier...’
‘Actually, there was a lot left out,’ he drawled.
He truly had a file on her? For how long had he been prying into her life? ‘What have you learned?’
‘You’re the only child of Petra Marron. Your father is John Gale—though he doesn’t acknowledge you as his daughter. You grew up in a small village an hour north of Palisades city. You excelled at school, and studied for your physiotherapy degree part-time after your mother became unwell with cancer. Upon graduation you took a job at the hospital and have been there ever since. Your employment record is exemplary. Your patients speak highly of you. But your social media accounts don’t show much in the way of relationships.’
She trembled, outraged by his physical and emotional invasion of her life and his ensuing obvious judgement. ‘Perhaps I like my privacy and choose not to broadcast the details of my life to everyone.’
‘Aren’t you lucky to even have that choice?’
As if she were about to start feeling sorry for him! Her life had been reduced to a few sparse paragraphs, making it sound dull and unexciting, when in reality it had been rich and rewarding and heartbreaking.
‘And what do you think you’ve learned from that collection of facts?’
‘I already know you’re not as perfect as that piece of paper makes you appear,’ he said softly. ‘I know you’re not honest. I know you’re deceptive, And I know you use your looks to—’
‘To what? Seduce men into doing what I want?’ She laughed, bitterly hurt by his unfounded accusations and assumptions.
She’d never used her looks—quite the opposite. She’d fought to be taken seriously—not to be tainted by preconceived opinions based on the shape of her body and the actions of her mother. And he was the worst of all—accusing her of hurting Eleni in some way.
But it was the blistering betrayal of her own body right now that appalled her. Scornful tears stung her eyes. ‘Newsflash, Your Highness—here’s some truth for you,’ she snapped. ‘I don’t like to be touched.’
