“You’re using my title to keep me at arm’s length,” he said, voice low and probing.“Why is that?”
She met his gaze without flinching.“Because we need to keep this professional.”
His lips curved slowly, knowingly.“Do we?”
“We do,” she said firmly, ignoring the heat creeping up her neck.She extended her hand in what she hoped was a brisk, polite gesture.“Thank you for the opportunity,Your Highness.I’ll be in touch with my designs.”
He took her hand in his, his grip warm and deliberate—then covered it with his other hand, holding her still.“Did you tell the police about the attempted murder?”
Her breath caught.“It wasn’t… murder,” she said, startled by the word.
His gaze hardened.“The driver aimed directly at you, Natalie.They adjusted to hit you.That wasn’t an accident.”
The conviction in his tone punched through her denial.Her fingers slipped out of his grip.“I… I don’t know what it was,” she whispered, hating how her voice shook.
He studied her for a long moment, his focus so intense it made her skin prickle.“You’re scared.I can help you—if you’ll let me.”
For a fleeting heartbeat, she wanted to.She wanted to step into the safety of his arms, let his strength shoulder some of the fear she wouldn’t admit to.But survival instincts won out.
“I’ll handle it,” she said, stepping around him toward the door.
“We need to talk about what’s going on between us,” he said, halting her escape.
“I thought we already did,” she replied, exasperation threading through her voice.
He moved closer again, stopping just short of touching her.“No, we didn’t.Not really.”
Natalie tilted her head, bracing herself.“Then what do you want to say?”
“I can’t pretend there isn’t something happening here.That kiss the other night—”
“Was a mistake,” she cut in, though her tone lacked the steel she wanted it to have.
One dark brow arched, his mouth curving in faint amusement.“Really?Because it didn’t feel like one to me.”
She sighed, shaking her head.“Look, Rylan, I’m not denying there’s chemistry.I’m not blind.But I can’t do casual.I’m just not built that way.”
His arms folded slowly across his chest, his eyes narrowing—not with anger, but with calculation.“Why not?”
“Because,” she said, meeting his gaze with a mix of defiance and something far more fragile, “I need toknowsomeone.To trust them.I need more than just physical attraction.Casual sex doesn’t work for me—it never has.”
The words settled in the air, heavy with honesty.For a heartbeat, neither of them moved.Then Rylan’s expression shifted—his sharp edges easing—as he stepped forward.His approach was slow, measured, like a man stalking something valuable he had no intention of scaring off.
“That’s not a bad thing,” he said, his voice low and steady.“But what if I’m not looking for casual either?”
Her brow furrowed.“You’re… not?”
“No,” he replied, without even a flicker of hesitation.“I’m not.”
She searched his face, scanning for even the faintest sign of deception.All she found was the unwavering sincerity in his eyes—and that, somehow, was even more disarming.Still, her doubt clung to her.“Rylan, I’ve been in a relationship before where I thought I could trust someone.It didn’t end well.”
“Mark,” he said flatly, his tone clipped.
Her eyes widened.“How do you know about him?”
“I did some digging,” he said without apology.“After the attempt on your life, I needed to know more about you.About who might want to hurt you.”
The admission sent a rush of conflicting emotions through her—irritation sparring with a reluctant spark of gratitude.“I can take care of myself, Rylan.”
