Her eyes glittered. ‘You see. This island is magic.’
And in spite of himself, Theo was starting to believe it.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
THEO WAS CONFLICTEDas he prepared for dinner. Isabella had requested for their last night on the island, that they book a table at the restaurant where she had worked. Still acting, or so she could say goodbye to the crew she’d worked with, the crew that had given her a chance and made her welcome.
He wasn’t crazy about the idea. He didn’t want the Princess exposed to the public eye any more than she already had been, but he wasn’t a monster. And after today’s excursions, he had to admit his attitude towards the Princess was changing.
She was much more of a surprise package than he’d been led to believe. Sure, she was young and naive, she was a twenty-five-year-old innocent Princess, and yet she’d proved herself so much more than that. She shown she had street smarts by evading recovery for so long—nobody had expected that.
She was no poseur; she had a natural way about her that belied her royal heritage. And if she hungered for the throne, there was a complete absence of evidence for that. Could she hide a yearning for the throne that well? No. Surely if she was planning some kind of coup against her brother, to take the throne in his place, she’d want to be working inside the institution that was the palace of Rubanestein, and not in some far-flung island half a world away—where internet was thready at best and totally absent at worst.
Hardly the place to plot a coup.
Perhaps most surprisingly, she was fun to be with. Sure, she could be annoying and problematic and too much in his face, like today when she’d sidled too close to him for his liking at the museum, but today had been fun. He’d forgotten about fun. He’d left fun by the wayside when Sophia had gone.
He’d had no place for fun.
But today the Princess had reminded him of the simple pleasure of fun. The simple pleasure of laughter. And that was no small deal.
No. The more Theo reflected on the case, the more he learned about the Princess, the less sense the Prince’s reason for wanting Isabella back in Rubanestein made. Was Rafael more worried about her safety out in the big world without security and so over-egged the pudding? That was possible, especially if he were the bullying kind of character the Princess had claimed. A runaway royal lacking security was always going to be fodder for every nefarious group out there. The Prince hadn’t needed to add to the story by claiming it was an act of rebellion by the Princess for not acceding to the throne herself.
All he’d had to say was that he was worried for her safety, exposed and alone in the big bad world. Theo would have believed that. Anybody would have believed that. Because the Princess was in danger. She might have been lucky or clever until now, but sooner or later her luck would run out and the other people interested in finding her would.
But none of that explained why she had run.
Her story that her brother had sold his own sister in exchange for the funds to pay his gambling debts was so far-fetched. He knew people were capable of evil deeds, he’d be out of a job if they weren’t, but this was a prince, the ruler of his principality—and to sell his own sister, to marry her off to one of his cronies as if she were no more than a piece of his property, was so heinous—was it any wonder he had trouble accepting her claims?
Then again—why had she run? If it wasn’t for that, what was it?
He ran his hand through his hair. The Princess—this entire case—and the extended time spent together because of this damned cyclone—were messing with his head. And today’s fish feeding excursion was not helping.
It had broken too many barriers. He’d let his game down. He didn’t do fun. He didn’t want to do fun. Not with anyone. Least of all with her. Of course she would want to sway him. But she was a job. A rescue.
He just had to keep reminding himself of that.
Isabella showered and changed into a sundress for dinner at the café, knowing that time was short and that she was running out of options. Theo had advised her that the airport would reopen tomorrow, and that they would be on the first flight to Sydney. So that left her with just one night to convince Theo that he shouldn’t drag her back to Rubanestein.
She took a deep breath. They’d had a good day today visiting the museum and Ned’s Beach. They’d had a fun day. Even Theo couldn’t deny that. She was hoping that Theo’s attitude towards her might be softening, and that he might see her as less problem rescue and more as a woman.
He was starting to feel something for her, she could tell from the way that she caught him looking at her, but as yet there was no indication that he was not intending to carry through his mission.
It was frustrating and there was so little time left. She sensed that he was starting to see her not as a mere rescue, but as a person. A woman. He was softening to her. So, yes, her clumsy attempt that first night when she’d sneaked into his room had ultimately failed. But then, last night he’d been the one to kiss her.
What a kiss.
And today, he’d enjoyed their time at Ned’s Beach. Theo couldn’t fake that. She’d got the impression that Theo faked nothing. What you saw was what you got.
Isabella checked her reflection as she looked in the mirror. She’d twisted her hair into a messy bun with tendrils coiling around her face, and tonight she’d even added a touch of make-up, circling her eyes with a smoky kohl, adding a hint of blush and a smear of gloss to her lips.
She took another deep fortifying breath.
There was one chance left.Tonight.
One night to put Plan A into practice.
Seducing Theo. Getting him to admit that she meant more to him than any other rescue. Getting him to admit that he cared about her enough to not want to simply hand her over to her brother. Surely, if he made love to her, he would rethink his plans?
