‘Your beautician and hairdresser arrive at noon,’ the steward said, as if he’d been asked to reinforce Raffa’s message. ‘Señor Acosta suggests you relax for the rest of this morning.’
Suggests?Unless Rose was mistaken, that was an instruction. Raffa wanted her to be fresh tonight, and out of his way today. Had that ‘almost kiss’ affected him too—in a way that made him determined to stay away from her—or was she making too much of it?
‘Breakfast looks delicious,’ she called tactfully after the steward as he left the room, though her appetite had all but disappeared.
Releasing her death grip on the butter knife, she started to prepare herself mentally for the palace ball. The first thing—the most vital thing of all—was to finally remember to return Raffa’s cufflink. She couldn’t entrust it to anyone else.
Searching out the evening bag she intended to use that night, she secured the black jewel in the small zip-up pocket. Her next task was to remind herself how much she enjoyed meeting new people, and how she relished diverse topics of conversation. What was so different about tonight? A ball at the royal palace would be daunting for anyone, though for Raffa it would be all about business. Networking was a crucial part of his life. And now, for some annoying reason, a parade of unfeasibly beautiful females, all with the world’s most eligible bachelor in their sights, plonked itself in her mind. She tried reassuring herself that her only task was to choose a dress to wear, while those imaginary women, in competition for Raffa, would be at it tooth and claw.
Closing her eyes on that unfortunate image was no use at all, for there they were, taunting her as they sashayed up and down behind her eyelids.
Where the choice of gown for tonight was concerned, glamour the heck out of it was the only answer.
CHAPTER FIVE
HISTRANSFERFROMship to shore was seamless, but he couldn’t relax until he knew his team had arrived at the palace. Until he knew Rose had arrived at the palace. Infuriating woman! Why was she always in his head? No matter how many times he told himself that caring for anyone outside his immediate family might attract fate to take an interest, he appeared unable to stifle his concern for Rose. The evening would be dull without her. Even if she appeared in her interview suit she would light up the room.
He’d gone ahead of his team to meet the Prince in private to discuss some upcoming polo matches, and now he was pacing the ballroom like a youth on his first date.
Where the hell was she?
Glancing at his watch, he spat out a curse. It was only two minutes since the last time he’d looked. He had skipped a reception after his business with the Prince to make sure he was here in time to reassure Rose that this vast space, with its ceiling painted by some protégée of Michelangelo, glorious marble floor, stately pillars and glittering chandeliers, was merely top dressing for what really mattered, which were the charities that would benefit from the after-dinner auction tonight. He was confident the stuffed shirts present would be captivated by Rose’s warmth and charm, and he couldn’t wait for them to meet her. What a surprise they’d have, in the form of a spirited Irishwoman with laughter in her eyes and kindness in her heart.
Kindness was perhaps Rose’s greatest asset, he reflected, that and her voluptuous body, which was outstanding. His thoughts jumped to what she’d wear for such a dazzling occasion. It was impossible to predict anything where Rose was concerned, apart from the fact that she’d be true to herself, and that in itself set her apart.
Spying His Serene Highness making directly for him forced him to concentrate on the here and now. There could be no more glancing up the sweeping marble staircase to see if Rose had arrived, or staring at his watch, willing the hands to move, but he found it hard to concentrate on what the Prince was saying, and could only trust he dipped his head and nodded in all the right places as the Prince went on. ‘I’d like to discuss the details of our polo matches with your head groom present—’
A flurry at the top of the stairs distracted them both. They weren’t alone in inhaling sharply. The palace ballroom had hosted many beautiful women, but none could compare to the woman at the top of the stairs.
Rose had paused in a halo of light, to take in her surroundings and get her bearings, he guessed. The impulse to leave the Prince, mount the stairs and escort her down the sweeping staircase was overwhelming, but this was Rose. This was her moment. No hiding in the shadows tonight, she was obviously determined to put on a good show for him, and if that meant dressing like a queen, and lifting her chin to warm the room with her smile, then that was exactly what she would do.
‘I have to say, you have impeccable taste,’ the Prince observed in a discreet murmur.
‘Rose is an exceptional horsewoman,’ he replied, refusing to besmirch Rose’s reputation with even the slightest hint of impropriety.
As he had expected, Rose didn’t wait for anyone to escort her down the steps. Several contenders tried, and were all charmingly but firmly dismissed. Chin up, eyes smiling, Rose appeared to float down the stairs wearing the highest of heels. How long before she kicked them off? he wondered with amusement.
Leaving the Prince with a gracious bow, he waited at the foot of the stairs. Rose’s exquisite green eyes smiled into his, but the enchantment of her presence was infectious, and the Prince lost no time in joining him to welcome Rose.
‘You’ll sit with us on the top table,’ His Serene Highness insisted with his customary charm.
‘I’d be honoured, Your Serene Highness,’ Rose replied engagingly.
Only the swift blush that pinked her cheeks told him how surprised she was to receive this invitation. When she glanced at Raffa and raised an awestruck brow, he smiled and nodded with genuine pleasure for Rose.
‘You look stunning,’ he whispered when the Prince left them to join his wife. He recognised the peach-coloured dress with its illusion underskirt as one he had particularly favoured. The close fit did more than hint at the perfection of the body underneath, while the colour brought out the highlights of gold and copper in Rose’s ravishingly beautiful hair. She had chosen to wear her hair down tonight and looked amazing.
‘Stunning?’ she queried in the same discreet tone. ‘You mean, I’m not wearing breeches smeared in mud?’
‘I mean,’ he said, ‘you look beautiful tonight.’
‘You’re blinded by the jewels I’m wearing,’ she teased, referring to the spectacular diamond earrings and necklace he’d had couriered to thePegasusespecially for tonight. Everyone was clearly wearing their best pieces, and he hadn’t wanted Rose to feel left out. ‘I wondered whatetcmeant when I read your text,’ she added with an impish smile, ‘and now I know.’
‘I’m pleased you chose to wear them,’ he admitted as he escorted her to the Prince’s table. ‘I was by no means certain that you would.’
‘I couldn’t leave them rusting away in that old jewel case. I’ll never get the chance to wear things like this again,’ she added, touching her fingertips reverently to the intricate diamond necklace. ‘So, I thought, why not?’
‘Why not, indeed?’ he agreed, enjoying the novelty of a woman who would never take such extravagant jewels for granted. ‘Enjoy them while you can.’
