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‘And you? Were you serious and studious all the time?’
Her next breath held a hint of another chuckle and Benedikt felt his skin heat. ‘I might,occasionally, have let my hair down.’
For a man who considered himself pragmatic and achievement-orientated his imagination was suddenly working overtime. Now it supplied a tantalising image of Annalena with her gleaming hair loose across her breasts. She leant back against heaped pillows, her only garment a lace negligée that revealed more than it concealed of her body. He was kneeling above her, lowering himself…
‘How?’ he croaked. ‘How did you let your hair down?’
‘The usual. Sneaking down to the local festival late at night, hanging out with other teenagers, tasting the local beer.’
‘Just as well your grandmother didn’t find out.’
She had the reputation of being a tartar.
‘Oh, she knew. She told me later she was pleased to see I had the spirit and ingenuity to sneak out to be with my friends. She might be a stickler for duty and protocol but she’s no snob. She believes in the value of individuals, no matter what their supposed social status.’
He digested that. There was more to the old lady than he’d thought. Just like her granddaughter.
‘That’s where our families differ. My father wanted me to spend my time only withimportantpeople. Ones who could be of value to him in future. He wasn’t what you call a man of the people.’
Benedikt spun his office chair to face the window, taking in the nightscape of the capital’s lights.
‘That doesn’t sound like much fun.’
He frowned. Was that a trace of pity he heard?
‘Don’t worry, you weren’t the only one to sneak out and enjoy themselves.’
Though in his case he hadn’t just sat around, drinking beer. He’d developed a taste for fast cars and hot women early. At one stage he’d also sought to deaden the emptiness of his personal life at the roulette wheel, before he realised how pointless that was. After that, and with his grandfather’s encouragement, he’d sought his thrills in the business sphere and occasional rock climbing. As for women, he’d become much more discriminating, while avoiding serious relationships.
‘Why did you call, Benedikt?’
‘I thought we’d eat together. Discuss how you got on today. But I’m told you requested a meal on a tray. Are you all right?’
‘Perfectly fine, thanks. But I want a quiet night. I assumed we’d talk tomorrow.’
He should be pleased. That gave him the evening free to work.
Strangely though, he felt…let down. Had he been looking forward to sharing a meal with her?
No, it was merely that he’d planned to discuss some of the many things they needed to cover before the coronation.
‘You’re exhausted from trying on dresses?’
He heard what sounded strangely like a splash then she spoke, not quite so relaxed now. ‘You should try it some time. It takeshours. It’s easier for men. Once they have your measurements, making formal clothes is pretty standard. But for women there are so many variables, not only colour and style but how you stand and carry yourself. And that’s just one dress. Your Ms Becker said you’d given orders for a whole new wardrobe.’
Annalena’s voice was suddenly razor-sharp.
Because he wanted her to look like a queen? What was wrong with that?
‘It’s necessary. From the night of the ball you’ll be in the public eye. You’ll need to look the part, not only when our engagement photos are taken and at the coronation.’
‘I understand that and I’ve agreed on a dress for the ball and a couple of others. But I prefer not to use just one designer. I’ll organise the rest myself, including the wedding dress.’
It was better to patronise a variety of makers yet Benedikt hesitated. Annalena had admitted she wasn’t used to the royal court and what he’d seen of her wardrobe…
‘My team can provide a list of designers. Your dress for the wedding and our coronation needs to be spectacular.’
He heard an impatient huff. ‘Don’t worry, I’m not going to sabotage the day by wearing something that lets us both down. I’ve already contacted a designer in Edelforst.’