“You know?”His tone was controlled, but frustration simmered beneath it.
Her brows lifted in mock surprise.“That you’re Prince Rylan el Sandir of Uftar?Yes.Monica mentioned her fiancé was ‘a royal.’So I looked up the owner of the house and connected the dots.”
His wariness hardened into irritation, his shoulders stiffening.“You shouldn’t have been able to get that information.”
Natalie crossed her arms, masking the fact that her pulse had picked up.“It took some digging, but research is my job.I find rare pieces for my clients.This time, the rare find happened to be your title.”She leaned forward slightly, meeting his gaze without flinching.“So yes, I know exactly who you are.”
His lips pressed into a thin line.For a moment, she thought he might lash out.Instead, he said, “My family doesn’t matter, Natalie.”
She scoffed, rolling her eyes.“No, your family doesn’t matter to me,” she lied, the words tasting like metal.“But the fact that you’re engaged does.”She turned her head toward the window, summoning every ounce of control to keep her voice level.“Monica is a lovely woman.”The words felt poisonous in her mouth.
“I’m not engaged to Monica,” he said flatly, his voice edged with frustration.
Natalie’s gaze snapped back to his, disbelief cutting through her composure.“Really?She seemed pretty confident when she called you her fiancé.Maybe she’s just delusional?”
His sigh was sharp, his hand raking through his hair.“I’m not engaged.Monica and I had dinner one time—three months ago.That’s it.”
“Did you sleep with her?”Her voice was colder than she intended, and she kept her expression locked down tight.
His answer came without hesitation.“No.”
Her raised eyebrow spoke volumes.He exhaled again, folding his arms across his chest—a defensive move, but his gaze never wavered.
Before he could answer, Natalie lifted her hand again, not trusting herself to let him answer.“None of my business,” she said, aiming for casual dismissal.But the words scraped against her throat, each one a needle in her own resolve.She didn’t know which was worse—the thought of him with Monica or the way he could dismiss Monica so easily, as if intimacy meant nothing.
When he spoke again, his voice was softer, cutting past her armor.“What if I want it to be your business?”
Her heart skipped a beat, but she buried the reaction under a wall of defiance.She met his stare without flinching, leaning forward until her hands pressed into the cool surface of the table.
“Not.My.Business.”Each word was deliberate, clipped, and solid as stone.
For a split second, she thought the words might ignite him—that he’d lash back with the same heat burning in his eyes.But instead, he drew in a slow breath, the kind that seemed to stretch the moment taut.Then, infuriatingly, the corners of his mouth curved.
“Oh,” he murmured, the sound low and silky, dangerous as the slide of a blade.“It’s going to be fun making it your business.”
He straightened, fixing the cuffs of his shirt with maddening precision, every movement controlled.His gaze never left hers, locking her in place.“We’ll meet tomorrow at my place to discuss the changes.I look forward to hearing your ideas.”
Before she could form a single response—sharp, professional, or otherwise—he turned and walked out, leaving the conference room door yawning open in his wake.
Natalie’s grip on the table tightened as she watched him go.Every stride was a study in confidence: broad shoulders, deliberate pace, the quiet command of a man who expected the world to rearrange itself for him.And yet, the knot in her chest didn’t come from admiration.It came from the betrayal still gnawing at her, scraping raw against the part of her that had almost wanted to trust him.
The moment he disappeared around the corner, her colleagues poured into the room, their voices a jumble of eager chatter.
“Are you really going to be designing for a prince?”
“He’s so hot.”
“Seriously, did the temperature just go up in here?”
Their teasing barely registered.Natalie’s arms folded tightly across her chest as if she could hold herself together by sheer force.Her heart was still pounding, her thoughts still tangled in the sound of his voice, the glint in his eyes when he’d said those words.
She’d never met a man like Rylan before—and she hated that part of her wasn’t sure whether she wanted to slap him or pull him closer.
One thing, however, was certain: trusting a man like Rylan was dangerous.
And she had no intention of making that mistake again.
Chapter 12
