Page 8 of Out of Office Nights (Royals of Cartana #2)

How dared he?

Of course, her outrage arrived far too late.

Long after he’d stepped coolly away from her, leaving her to face shouted questions about the gown she didn’t have answers to.

Leaving everyone to salivate over the possibility of catching a glimpse of a House of Domene exclusive while he sauntered to another batch of the press and charmed them with smooth soundbites that had them laughing.

She was still bristling when he returned five minutes later, suavely offering her an arm she had no choice but to take or risk further rabid speculation. ‘For your information, I’m not blocked,’ she defended hotly. Belatedly .

He plucked two glasses of chilled vintage champagne from a passing tray and offered her one before slanting her a mocking glance. ‘Really? Then, why haven’t you produced anything worth the talent I know you have in over six months?’ he demanded, his voice a lethal blade wrapped in silk.

She wasn’t addressing the Playboy Prince now.

She was talking to her boss. The man with the passionate drive and talent that repeatedly left his competitors puzzled and in awe.

But since the same question dogged her, and she absolutely refused to attribute it to a man , she raised her chin.

‘Every designer goes through a slow phase.’

‘Should I even bother to laugh, or shall I go straight to pointing out that we both know that’s a load of nonsense?’

‘How dare you?’ she snapped, lowering her voice because if she hadn’t wanted undue attention from the paparazzi, then she most definitely didn’t want the people at this gala to see her remotely ruffled. Designers were worse than fishwives when it came to spreading gossip.

‘I won’t bother answering that either. But whatever or whoever it is you’re working through, work fast. My patience isn’t infinite.’

Her insides shook at the ruthless delivery. ‘Is that a threat?’

He held her in suspense, quicksilver eyes wandering over her face as he raised his glass to sip from it, as hers dropped to his strong Adam’s apple, a flash of heat invading her pelvis. ‘By all means. Take it as a threat if it helps focus you.’

Searching his face didn’t show any signs that he didn’t mean it.

Her agitation intensified. Even as she’d thrown down that gauntlet two days ago during the meeting with Teo and Cristobal, she hadn’t quite let herself consider whether her professional demise was imminent.

Now she was forced to stare into the abyss of possibly losing the one solid thing in her life, the only thing that brought true meaning despite her having seemingly lost her way temporarily, and her heart constricted.

‘You can’t fire me. You’ve renewed my contract for another six months, not to mention we agreed on the six-week deadline.’ Her voice was thankfully poised. Strong enough to paper over the continued quaking in her belly.

Except a sardonic smile still hovered over his sensual lips. Those eyes were still probing far too deep for her to celebrate her composure.

He shrugged. ‘Suing me for whatever imagined breach you cobble up will only make one of us unhappy. And it won’t be me.’

His unfailing conviction wasn’t even needed.

She knew how powerful and influential he was. How quickly and mercilessly he would bring that to bear on any grievance she might make made her insides churn with unease. Not to mention…she already knew from her own exacting standards that she needed to step up her game.

Hating him for having the last word, she pursed her lips as, with a droll look, he said, ‘Now it’s time to mingle and show off my spectacular creation. Let’s pretend we’re not at odds, hmm?’

He didn’t wait for her to answer.

One hand in the small of her back propelled her into the nearest group, who turned as one to hail the Playboy Prince with obsequious welcome. Between one breath and the next, all traces of the hard-edged billionaire boss had evaporated.

In its place a breathtakingly charming Lothario who draped kisses on the backs of feminine hands, offered jaw-dropping largesse to panting acolytes, graciously accepted the reams of accolades when eyes turned to the gown Sabeen wore and delivered borderline-risqué jokes that had everyone falling over themselves with laughter.

Everyone except her. She stood rigidly throughout, ignoring speculation and envy from both men and women alike.

At the very first opportunity, she excused herself to the ladies’ room.

Then proceeded to give herself the talking-to of her life. Right up until the murmured conversation outside her stall froze her frantic self-flagellation.

‘Did you see his latest creation? It’s unbelievably fabulous. God, I’m so jealous!’

‘That you didn’t create it, that you’re not wearing it or that you’re not the one he’ll be tearing it off when the night is over?’

‘Can I say All of the above, but especially the last one ?’

Laughter rang out, then trailed away on lusty sighs.

‘Maybe you shouldn’t be so quick to want to step into her shoes. Remember what happened with Nathan Gray?’

Sabeen’s breath hitched.

‘God, don’t remind me. I’d feel horrible for her, but seriously, she should’ve known better, shouldn’t she?’

Ice clogging her veins, she clenched her fists and stayed put. Going out there now would turn the gossip mill into a veritable gossip bullet train. They’d speculate about what she’d heard and how it’d affected her. They’d pretend to soothe while examining her for battle wounds.

So she waited until they left.

Then she exited with her head held high. To endure another hour of weighted scrutiny until Teo deemed the torture over.

And as they headed to the car, he turned to her, his face rigid.

‘To your earlier, unwanted point. As to whether my employee is in love with me or not, it’s irrelevant. As long as she fulfils her role efficiently, she’s welcome to feel whatever she feels whenever she feels it.’

She shook her head, her chest tightening absurdly. ‘You really have no scruples, do you?’

A look passed over his face, uncharacteristically solemn. One she recalled only seeing once, at his brother’s wedding when she’d approached him on the terrace. Before he’d summoned the lethal Lothario.

Before the kiss that still made her toes curl whenever she recalled it.

‘I can’t afford to,’ he stated, that hard edge back in his tone.

‘What does that mean?’

He frowned, then waved the driver away from the door.

He saw her into the limo, lounging with one hand over the open door, the regal epitome of a man confident and content in his skin and with his world.

Then he lobbed another twisted smile her way.

‘Looking for another reason to flee back behind your wall of ice?’ he asked, evading her question.

‘I don’t need to. Everything about you makes me glad I’m not foolish enough to find you remotely attractive.’

That grave look returned then was instantly replaced by a sardonic laugh. Lower. Deeper. Setting off unwanted fireworks within erotic parts of her body. ‘You were right to stay away from me, belleza . Because now I see why you fight so hard to keep that wall all the way up.’

Strains of ominous music started at the back of her brain. ‘I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about,’ she replied with more heat than she wanted, further revealing his infuriating effect on her.

His hand came up, slowly. So mesmerically, she wasn’t sure whether to stare into his unbelievably sexy face or watch that hand drawing ever closer to her cheek. ‘You’re absolutely terrified, aren’t you?’ he murmured.

A wild dip in her belly blared danger as the tune’s tempo ramped up. If this was a movie, she would’ve been screaming at the hapless victim to run. But this wasn’t a movie, and she was absolutely no victim. Nevertheless, she would be foolish not to heed the shrieking warning for self-preservation.

She modulated her breathing long enough to ignore the elegant finger hovering tantalisingly over her skin and the traitorous part of her that yearned to feel his touch once more.

Staunchly gathering her scattering composure she raised a brow.

‘Terrified? Of what, exactly? That a man who thinks he’s a god and therefore spreads himself about waiting to be adored and greedily laps up attention is trying out his weak charms on me?

Keep living in that illusion, Prince Teodor.

Far be it for me to burst that giant ego of yours by reminding you that there are hundreds—perhaps even thousands—of your kind littered between here and the French Riviera. ’

His face shut down. His hand dropped away. But those ferocious eyes remained locked on hers. And…heaven help her, she couldn’t miss the glint of battle that lit his eyes for a furious instant, like a supernova ripping through a quiet galaxy, before he regained his composure.

She didn’t need a PowerPoint presentation to know she’d struck a very active nerve. And, yes, that in her haste to shore up her defences, she might have laid it on too thick.

And even when yet another sycophant huskily called his name and he ignored them and kept those molten silver eyes pinned on her, she knew deep in her bones that, in her haste, she may have won a small battle, but she’d succeeded in starting a war.

That the gleam in his eyes had been the equivalent of an alpha war cry she might need every inch of armour to live through.

Determined footsteps approached.

His name was trilled again. But still he watched her, a predator sizing up how best to deliver a kill strike.

‘It’s going to be truly delightful to watch that ice wall of yours melt, carina . If for nothing else, for the chance to expose the hypocrisy that lies beneath the surface. Buenos noches. ’

He shut the door and walked away, leaving that relentless quaking behind as he slipped so effortlessly into the crowd he commanded like everything else around him.