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‘The Grand Duchess of Edelforst’s granddaughter. Princess Annalena.’
What was a member of Edelforst’s most senior family doing here? What administrator in their right mind thought it okay to put her off and not tell him?
As if Benedikt didn’t have enough to deal with. His coronation was fast approaching and he was still fighting spot fires left by his father, made more difficult by the fact his father had been secretive about so much. Karl had jealously guarded his business dealings as well as his power and prestige, even from his heir.
Relations between the Grand Duchess and Benedikt’s father had been frosty, if not downright inimical. As the Grand Duchy was a semi-autonomous province of Prinzenberg, in the end his father had left the place to run itself.
The Grand Duchess had a lot of power in the province, which had traditionally been ruled along matriarchal lines. Outside her province she technically had no political authority but she was respected, even revered nationally, though she hadn’t been seen outside Edelforst for years.
Insulting her granddaughter wasnothow Benedikt wanted to begin their relationship. He’d planned to visit but kept being delayed as he uncovered yet more urgent problems left by his father.
There was a knock on the door before it opened. He sighed and rose, an apology forming for her wait. But surprise caught his tongue as Matthias ushered her in.
The young woman’s dark blonde hair was plaited, arching over her head in an old-fashioned coronet that added to her height. Instead of modern dress she wore a dirndl of forest green, figured with silver. A decorative apron of pale green covered her skirt, the fabric betraying its cost with a shimmer of silk.
Her tightly fitted, laced-up bodice moulded a narrow waist and round breasts, the low décolletage revealing the edge of an embroidered white blouse beneath it.
There was no cleavage on show and her skirt fell just below her knees but Benedikt’s skin prickled in instant male awareness.
His skimming glance rose to the dark green velvet ribbon around her throat with its silver pendant. Worn like a choker, it emphasised her slender neck and the soft-looking skin sloping down to her breasts.
Benedikt swallowed, shocked by his instant response. His fingers twitched and his lower body hardened, his breath stalling.
The dirndl was the national dress of Prinzenberg, rarely worn in the capital except at festivals. Even in her province of Edelforst, it wasn’t worn daily. His parents had regarded it as terminally old-fashioned and he’d thought of it as appealing but country cute.
This woman wore it like a weapon.
She looked magnificent. And incredibly sexy.
His first appraisal took in her traditional clothes and slender body. His second lingered on her face. Taking in eyes the green of a mountain tarn and lips that curved like the proverbial Cupid’s bow.
Dimly Benedikt was aware of his heartbeat quickening and her eyes widening as she stared too, looking almost as taken aback as he was.
His vision flickered as something hard and fierce pulsed between them. Something he felt low in his belly and high in his tightening chest.
Imagination, he told himself. The result of too little sleep and too many hours unravelling the murky web of his father’s business dealings.
Matthias broke the silence, murmuring introductions before bowing his way out. Leaving them alone.
Benedikt moved from behind his desk. ‘It’s a pleasure to meet you, Princess.’
He held out his hand just as she lowered her gaze and bobbed in a brief curtsey that was graceful but not at all subservient.
His hand fell. She mustn’t have seen him reach to shake her hand.
When she lifted her head her steady stare set off warning bells. She didn’t look like a supplicant. Nor a well-wisher. Her even features were composed, almost expressionless. Too expressionless.
‘My sincere apologies that you had to wait to see me. That was most unfortunate.’
‘As you say. But I managed to get some work done while waiting.’
Her words were even yet held a note of provocation. A reminder that her time was valuable too?
He gestured for her to precede him to a pair of leather lounges facing each other. ‘Please, take a seat.’
There was a refined rustle of silk as she passed him and he found himself watching her graceful walk. Not the hip-swinging sway of a woman in high heels to which he’d grown accustomed. Her movements were more fluid and she sank onto the chesterfield with a grace that made him imagine her swirling around the palace’s grand ballroom in a long gown.
‘I only learned a few minutes ago that you were here.’