But people-pleasing was a useful tool, not evidence of a good heart.
‘If you want to get inside in time for the opening…’ he murmured.
Finally she nodded and let herself be led away.
They followed the red carpet and he recognised several famous faces. They were about to enter the grand building when a man standing to one side caught his eye, but just as Fotis paused, senses alert, the stranger disappeared into the crowd.
Then they were inside the soaring space, resplendent with brilliant chandeliers and glittering guests. The crowd parted as they entered.
Training kicked in, making him focus on individuals, movements, anything out of place. When he heard the sharp hitch of his companion’s breath, he was surprised, for he’d seen nothing to make him wary.
Her uptilted gaze was fixed on the far wall.
High up an image was projected. A stunning young woman with blue eyes and flame-red hair smiled as if the world were her playground. She wore red, a provocative dress that revealed lots of toned, honeyed flesh and clung lovingly to her sinuous body.
Of course he knew the photo. He suspected that image had featured in the wet dreams of men all around the world.
Juliette Bernard in the year she burst onto the cinema scene, causing a sensation. Tonight’s opening party was an homage to a woman who’d won resounding critical acclaim for her craft.
Juliette Bernard, the English-French actress who’d later cemented her place in public mythology with her fairy-tale marriage to the King of Cardona.
He felt a quiver rack the woman beside him and turned to see her eyes, now more grey than blue and overbright.
Without allowing himself time to think, he stepped in front of her, blocking her from curious stares, and took both her hands. They were cold, but even as he registered that, she blinked and firmed her lips.
Fotis bent his head, surprised at his surge of concern. ‘Are you all right?’
She blinked again and for a long moment emotion shimmered in that bright gaze. Grief so stark it sucked his breath away.
Then it disappeared. There was a flicker of a moment when something else softened her expression as she met his gaze. Gratitude? His hands involuntarily tightened.
But seconds later she was again the soignee socialite he’d met yesterday. A woman without a care and with the world at her feet.
‘Your Highness.’
The princess looked past him and moved to greet the man who’d approached. She was gracious and charming, as if those moments of earthquaking emotion hadn’t happened.
Fotis felt the world shift beneath his feet. It was unnerving to realise the woman he despised had hidden depths. That, despite her unforgivable actions in New York a month ago, she wasn’t simply a shallow, selfish woman who trampled anyone to get what she wanted. That shefelt, and felt deeply.
Who was the real Princess Rosamund?
And why did he want, badly, to uncover her secrets?
CHAPTER FOUR
ROSAMUND CHEWED HER PENCIL, trying to concentrate. But her thoughts jumped all over the place.
Exhausted, she’d slept deeply last night and should feel refreshed. Instead she jangled with nervous energy. Partly it was from reliving last night’s events and the emotional upheaval of being thrust into that star-strewn world about which her mother had been so ambivalent. The world which had been both fulfilling and destructive.
Yet it wasn’t the evening spent as her mother’s proxy that unsettled her. It was Fotis Mavridis.
She glanced across the patio to the open doors into the kitchen. He’d looked in again an hour ago, grabbed a drink and left, with barely a nod to acknowledge her presence.
His expression had been as dour as ever. No hint of a smile, not that she’d ever seen him smile. He’d looked as cold and blank, as judgemental, as ever.
Yet last night at the reception she could have sworn there’d been a change in him. When she’d held his arm heat had arced between them and despite his poker face she’dfeltthe spark of shared awareness.
More than that, he’d stunned her with that unexpected moment of understanding.
