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‘I was thinking aboutyou. You could have been badly injured.’ Something in his chest pulled tight as her voice turned husky with fear for him. Her gaze dropped to his arm, making him wish he’d worn a long-sleeved shirt. ‘How bad is the pain?’

‘It’s fine.’ Though he was glad for the painkillers he’d taken. ‘I’mfine. We got off lightly.’

Unlike their attacker who was in critical care.

‘Look at me, Rosamund.’ When she did, that familiar spark of connection ignited again, worrying yet welcome. ‘There’s no point going over and over what happened last night and imagining a different outcome. We’re bothfine. You need to accept that, not fret about it.’

Her chin tilted and he welcomed that familiar hint of spirit. ‘How do you know that’s what I’ve been doing?’

Because I’ve been doing exactly that, imagining you hurt or worse.

‘It’s what people do after a traumatic event. But it won’t help. It will just distress you more.’

She nodded. ‘That’s why I was swimming, trying to clear my head.’ She gestured to his arm. ‘You need to get it checked out properly today. We’ll go to the hospital after breakfast.’

‘Not the hospital.’ It was unlikely Ricardo had another minion here ready to attack her, but Fotis wouldn’t take that chance. ‘I’ll arrange a house call to the suite.’

‘Why? What aren’t you telling me?’

He repressed a sigh. ‘The press got hold of the story. You saw how much attention we got in Paris.’

It had increased every day, with rampant speculation about their whirlwind romance. Their agreement not to comment on their relationship had only sent the press into a frenzy. The reclusive billionaire and the party-girl princess was too intriguing a proposition to ignore.

‘There’s a gang of photographers camped on the other side of the hotel. So unless you particularly want to run the gauntlet of the press, I vote we stay at the hotel until it’s time to leave.’

He watched her face shutter. She’d never spoken of how press attention affected her and she always faced the cameras with apparent serenity. But a week at her side, often with his arm around her, meant he’d felt her muscles tighten each time they navigated the cameras. He had some idea what that show of calm cost her.

He respected her courage and determination not to let them see weakness.

‘It doesn’t bother you? What they’re saying about us?’

He found himself hoping she hadn’t read some of the more lurid headlines. Over the last week most reports had focused on the glamour of the events and of the photogenic royal, not to mention the fact she’d apparently enticed ‘the world’s most reclusive billionaire from his lair’. But others had twisted innocent situations with all sorts of negative speculation.

‘Which bit do you mean?’

She gave a lopsided smile. ‘I don’treadthem. I gave that up years ago.’ Her voice was firm yet he discerned a note almost of vulnerability that made him feel something deep inside. Protectiveness? ‘I mean generally, you and me being linked. It doesn’t cause…complications for you?’

‘Is this your way of asking if I’m in a relationship?’

‘No! I just meant as a CEO, don’t you have to be careful about your image?’

He regarded her closely, trying to read the truth behind those hazy blue eyes. Because he liked the idea she wanted him to be unattached? Because he wanted her to want him?

‘I don’t think being seen with a charming princess will harm my business. As for my image, I prefer to keep out of the limelight. But that’s personal preference, not a necessity. Frankly, I don’t pay attention to public speculation or what the media says about me.’

This week he’d made an exception. Since he’d agreed to undertake protection duties, his staff provided regular updates on media reports, as well as on Ricardo’s whereabouts.

‘I don’t have a lover at the moment, if that’s what you’re worried about.’ Something shifted in Rosamund’s gaze. Interest? Relief? Wasthatwhy she’d turned him down last night? ‘Do you?’

He hadn’t intended to ask, but his tongue had a mind of its own.

Her shake of the head created a buzz of approval so strong it distracted him until she spoke again.

‘What about your family? They don’t take an interest in who you date?’

Dating seemed a curiously old-fashioned, almost innocent word. Fotis didn’t date, he took women to bed.

He didn’t have emotional relationships with them. Not after watching his mother use sham affection for the males in her life, solely to get the lifestyle she craved. Besides, after losing his father and brother, he’d found it easier not to engage emotionally. His affairs were short-term, exclusive while they lasted, and with no expectation on either side that they’d lead to anything more than physical gratification.