Affairs of State

“So I should try to approach everyone as a potential new friend, even if they’re trying to take a picture of me buying bagels in the supermarket?”

“If you can. At the very least they won’t get a really bad picture of you and you won’t get in trouble for smashing their camera.” He managed to be mischievous and deeply serious at the same time, which was doing something strange to her insides.

“Ever since your older brother got married the papers keep speculating about your love life, but I haven’t seen any stories about it. How do you keep your personal life out of the papers?” Uh-oh, now she was asking him about his love life, in a roundabout way. She regretted the question, but also burned with curiosity to see how he’d answer. Was he involved with anyone?

“I have privacy.” He gestured at their elegant surroundings. “I just have to be cunning to get it.” His eyes shone. They were the color of neat whiskey, and were starting to have a similarly intoxicating effect on her. He had a light stubble on his cheeks, not dark, but enough to add texture under his cheekbones and she wondered what it would feel like to touch it. This was the private Simon the public didn’t see, and he’d invited her into his exclusive world.

Her breathing had quickened and she realized she was still holding her uneaten scone in her hand. She put it down and had a sip of orange juice instead. That had the bracing effect she needed. “I guess I need to get more cunning, too. It must help to have friends with large estates.” She smiled. “It looks like it has a beautiful garden.”

“Do you want to see it? I can tell you’re not exactly ravenous.”

“I’d love a walk.” Adrenaline and relief surged through her. Anything to dissipate the nervous tension building in her muscles. “Maybe I’ll be hungrier after some fresh air.”

“I already went for a run this morning. Just me and two Secret Service agents pounding the picturesque streets.” He stood and helped pull out her chair as she stood. Again she was touched by his thoughtfulness. She’d expect a prince to be more…supercilious.

“Where are the agents now?”

“Outside, checking the perimeter. They’ll keep a discreet distance from us.”

“Oh.” She glanced around, half expecting to see one lurking in the corner. Simon opened a pair of French doors and they stepped out onto a slate patio with a view over a formal rose garden. The heady scent of rose petals filled the air. “You picked the perfect time to invite me here. They’re all in bloom.”

“It’s June. The magic moment.”

He smiled and they walked down some wide steps to the borders of roses. They were the fragrant heirloom roses, with soft white, delicate yellow and big fluffy pale pink heads, so different from the gaudy unscented blooms she sometimes dealt with for parties. She drank in their scent and felt her blood pressure drop. “How gorgeous. It must take an army of gardeners to keep them so perfect.”

“No doubt.”

She glanced up at him, instantly reminded of how tall he was. Six-two, at least. His broad shoulders strained against the cloth of his shirt as he bent over a spray of double pink blossoms. He pulled something from his pocket and snipped off a stem, then stripped the thorns.

“You carry a knife?”

“Boy Scout training.” He offered her the posy. Their fingers brushed and she felt a sizzle of energy pass between them before she accepted it and buried her nose in it. How could she be attracted to a British prince, of all people? Wasn’t her life crazy and embarrassing enough already? Surely she could at least develop a crush on a prince from some obscure and far-flung nation that no one had heard of, not one of her nation’s closest allies.

“You’re very quiet.” His soft voice tickled her ear.

“Thinking too much, as usual.” She looked up. The morning sun played on the hard planes of his face and illuminated the golden sparkle of her eyes.

“That’s not always a good idea.” A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Maybe we’d better keep walking.” His hand touched the base of her spine, sending a thick shiver of arousal darting through her. Things just got worse and worse!

She walked quickly, first to lose his hand, and then to outpace her own imagination, which already toyed with the idea of kissing him.

“I think I’ve been working too hard lately.” That must be why the simple touch of a handsome man could send her loopy.

“Then you need to take a break.” He made it sound so easy.

“It’s not as if I can just step off the carousel and spend a few weeks in the islands.”

“Not without the entire press corps following you.” His wry glance made her chuckle. “You have to be crafty about it when you’re in the public eye. You don’t want to be caught topless in Vegas.”

She laughed aloud. “I don’t think there’s much danger of that. Oddly enough, I’ve never been there.”

“No quickie weddings in your past?”

“No, thank goodness. Otherwise my former husband would probably be preparing a tell-all biography about me.”

He slowed. “Is that a risk? Do you have people from your past who could reveal things you don’t want to be made public?” Was he tactfully inquiring about her romantic history?

“No.” She said it fast and loud. “I guess that’s something to be grateful for. My past is very plain vanilla. I was a bit embarrassed by how unexciting my life has been up to this point, but now it’s a huge relief.”

“But a little dull.” She glanced at him as he lifted a brow slightly. As if he wanted to tempt her into sin.

“Sometimes dull is good.”

“Even in the party planning business?”

“Oh, yes. Believe me, dull and tasteful goes a long way, especially when there are scandals swirling like tornadoes all around you.”

“Hmm. Sounds like a waste to me. If you’re going to have a party you might as well make it a live one. I suppose I feel the same way about life. Sometimes it drives the family mad that I can’t just plod around opening supermarkets and smashing bottles against ships, but I have to climb mountains and trek across deserts. Turning my adventures into fund-raising activities gives them an air of legitimacy, but frankly I’d be doing it anyway, simply because I enjoy it. Maybe you need an adventure.” His voice brightened.

“Oh, no.” Adrenaline shot through her. “No. Adventure is definitely the last thing I need. Really, I’m a dull and boring person. Happiest with a cup of herbal tea and a glossy magazine.” That should stop him in his tracks. And maybe she was trying to convince herself that she wasn’t experiencing a surge of excitement just from walking close to this man.

“I don’t believe a word of it.” He touched the small of her back again—just for a split second—as they descended a short flight of stone stairs. Again her skin prickled as if he’d touched it right through her clothes. An odd sensation was unfurling in the pit of her belly. One she hadn’t felt in a very long time.

“Trust me,” she pleaded, as her body threatened to succumb to far more excitement than she needed. “All I really want is my ordinary, quiet life back.”

“Well.” He stopped and took her hands. Her fingers tingled and her breath caught in her lungs. “That is most certainly not going to happen.”

Two

It took every ounce of self-control he possessed for Simon not to press his lips to Ariella’s soft pink ones. But he managed. Years of royal training, accompanied by thinly veiled threats from older members of the family, had taught him to handle these situations with his brain rather than other more primitive and enthusiastic parts of his body.

He didn’t want to blow it. Scare her off. Something deep in his gut told him that Ariella Winthrop was no ordinary woman. He trusted his gut in the line of fire and on the face of a sheer cliff. It rarely steered him wrong.

Something about Ariella sent excitement coursing through him. He couldn’t explain it, or even put his finger on the feeling; it was just a hunch that meeting her could change the course of his entire life.

He even managed to let go of her hands, reluctantly, and turn toward the rhododendron border as a distraction. “The reality is that your life has changed forever.” He glanced back, and was relieved to see her following closely. “Whether you like it or not, you’re public property now.” It made him feel close to her. They shared a bond and his years of hard experience could help her negotiate the minefield of a life lived on the pages of the daily papers.

“But I’m still the same person I’ve been all along. People can’t expect me to suddenly welcome the entire world into my private life.”

“You’re not the same, though. You didn’t know the president was your father, did you?”

“I was as surprised as he was. I’d never have guessed it in a million years. Now people are even saying I look like him. It seems insane to me. I don’t feel in the least bit related to him.”

Simon surveyed her strikingly pretty face. She had elegant, classical features, highlighted by the sparkle of warmth from her people-oriented personality. “You do look rather like him. You both have striking bone structure, and something about your eyes seems familiar.”

She let out an exasperated sigh. “You’re just imagining it. Or trying to make me feel better, and it’s not working. Yes, I’d like to meet him, since we do share the same genes, but I’m sure I’ll never have the same feelings for him as I do for the man who actually raised me.”

“Of course not.” He frowned. Her moss-green eyes were filled with concern. “No one expects you to do that.”