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Married for the Prince's Convenience
Maya Blake


Carrying the Crown Prince’s baby!On the Prince of Santo Sierra’s long list of prospective brides, Jasmine Nichols is at the bottom. Their impulsive night together might have proved their compatibility in the bedroom, but her later behaviour proves she would not make a suitable princess.Yet Jasmine is catapulted to the top of the list when Prince Reyes discovers she is carrying his heir! He should be planning her punishment not their wedding, but there is an old saying …keep your enemies closer.Except Reyes’s cold, tactical marriage is about to be jeopardised by their explosive chemistry and uncovering his new bride’s secrets…Praise for Maya BlakeInnocent in His Diamonds 4* RT Book ReviewBlake’s fabricated crime is the perfect catalyst to bring this couple together. The Swiss-scapes are incredibly luxurious and the co-stars are spot on. But it is the battle the heroine fights — no spoilers here —that wins the day.The Ultimate Playboy 4.5* RT Book ReviewBlake’s romance between this implausible couple is mystifying and exciting. The chemistry between her vengeful, überplayboy hero and her innocent, mistrusting heroine is palpable. The ultra-lavishness fits, the lovemaking is fiery and the honest dialogue between the couple is tangible.What the Greek Can’t Resist 4.5* TOP PICK RT Book ReviewBlake’s embattled couple is the perfect yin and yang. It’s a sensual feast watching them fall in love in spite of themselves.







Prince Reyes paced in a tight circle. ‘When did you find out?’ he asked.

‘I did the tests an hour ago.’

Jasmine held up three pink and white sticks.

Reyes forced himself to move. He took them, examined them. Somehow their presence finally hammered the reality home.

He was going to be a father.

Elation. A strange, undeniable possessiveness.

‘Everything has changed.’

Reaching down, he stroked her cheek. He wasn’t sure why it hadn’t occurred to him before. Jasmine wasn’t the perfect candidate, but she was miles better than anyone he knew. There would be no false proclamations of love to confuse issues. They were compatible in bed.

And she was carrying his child …

‘I’m calling off next week’s wedding. And I’m getting married in three days instead.’

Jasmine felt the blood drain from her head.

‘I … Okay. Leave it with me. I’ll call Miss Holden and arrange for her to fly over immediately,’ she replied through numb lips.

Reyes’s brows bunched. ‘Why would you be calling her?’

‘Because you’re marrying her!’

‘You misunderstand, Jasmine. The wedding is for you. I intend to marry no one else but you.’


MAYA BLAKE’s hopes of becoming a writer were born when she picked up her first romance aged thirteen. Little did she know her dream would come true! Does she still pinch herself every now and then, to make sure it’s not a dream? Yes, she does!

Feel free to pinch her too, via Twitter, Facebook or Goodreads! Happy reading!


Married for the Prince’s Convenience

Maya Blake






www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


Contents

Cover (#u34507aff-d9ab-5238-b590-c4f9f4c4c9f7)

Excerpt (#u5195d7ee-d567-5152-b9a6-73c445fcbe8a)

About the Author (#u46f7e960-2091-5534-b063-766d30bb14e3)

Title Page (#uee9d9175-1e96-52c9-ab80-5a61da12787e)

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Extract (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)


CHAPTER ONE (#u3ead9f6e-dd22-5d66-aac3-44bdd9ef63ac)

SHE WAS A THIEF.

A thief...

Jasmine Nichols’s heart pounded the indictment through her bloodstream. She hadn’t stolen anything yet, but that was beside the point. She’d travelled thousands of miles for the sole purpose of taking something that didn’t belong to her.

Telling herself she had no choice didn’t matter. If anything, it escalated her helplessness.

By the end of the night, she would wear the damning label as close to her skin as her black designer evening gown clung now.

Because failure wasn’t an option.

Fear and shame duelled for supremacy inside her, but it was the deep knowledge that she couldn’t turn her back on her family that propelled her reluctant feet up the sweeping crimson carpet towards the awe-inspiring masterpiece that housed the Contemporary Museum of Arts, perched on a cliff-side overlooking Rio de Janeiro. Even the jaw-dropping beauty of her surroundings couldn’t detract her from the simple fact.

She’d come here to steal.

The smile she’d plastered on her face since alighting from the air-conditioned limo threatened to crack. To calm her nerves, she mentally recited her to do list.

First, she had to locate Crown Prince Reyes Vicente Navarre.

And there was her first problem.

All effective search engines had yielded no pictures of the reclusive prince, save for a grainy image taken at the funeral of his mother four years ago. Since then, no pictures of the royal family of the South American kingdom of Santo Sierra had been released to the public. They guarded their privacy with a rigour that bordered on fanaticism.

As if that weren’t bad enough, according to reports, the House of Navarre’s Crown Prince had left his kingdom only three times in the last three years, all his time spent caring for his gravely ill father. It was rumoured King Carlos Navarre wasn’t expected to live past the summer.

Which meant Jasmine had no means of identifying Prince Reyes Navarre.

How did she get close to a man whose identity she had no idea of, distract him long enough to get her hands on what she’d come for before her mother and, more importantly, her stepfather, Stephen Nichols, the man who’d saved her life, and whose name she’d adopted, found out what she was up to?

Stephen would be heartbroken if he knew she was being blackmailed.

A nerve-destroying shudder rose up from the soles of her feet, making her clench her teeth to stop its death rattle from escaping. She smiled some more, mingled with the insanely wealthy and well heeled, and tried to reassure herself she could do this. By this time tomorrow, she’d be back home.

And most importantly, Stephen would be safe.

If everything went smoothly.

Stop it! Negative thinking was the downfall of many a plan. How many times had Stephen told her this?

She fixed her wilting smile back in place, stepped into the main hall of the museum, but she couldn’t summon the enthusiasm to gawp at the stunning paintings and sculptures on display.

A waiter approached bearing a tray of champagne. Accepting the sparkling gold-filled crystal goblet, she smoothed a shaky hand over the pearl choker around her throat, ignored the nervous flutter in her belly, and made her way to the bowl-shaped terrace where the guests were congregating for pre-dinner drinks.

So far the plans set out by Joaquin Esteban—the man threatening her stepfather’s life—had gone meticulously. Her name had been on the guest list as promised, alongside those of world leaders and celebrities she’d only seen on TV and in glossy magazines. For a single moment, while she’d waited for Security to check the electronic chip on her invitation, she’d secretly hoped to be caught, turned away. But the man who held her stepfather’s fate in his cruel hands had seen to every last detail she needed to pull this off.

Everything except provide her with a picture of the thirty-two-year-old prince.

The first stage of the treaty signing was to take place in half an hour in the Golden Room behind her. And with the occasion coinciding with Prince Mendez of Valderra’s birthday, guests had been invited onto the terrace to witness the spectacular sunset and the prince’s arrival, before the signing and birthday celebrations began.

Crown Prince Reyes himself was expected at eight o’clock. A quick glance at her watch showed five minutes to the hour. With every interminable second that ticked by, Jasmine’s nerves tightened another notch.

What if she was found out? Certainly, she could kiss her job as a broker and mediator goodbye. But even if she succeeded, how could she ever hold her head high again? She’d worked so very hard to put her past behind her, to tend the new leaf she’d turned over. For eight years, she’d succeeded. And now, at twenty-six, she was on the slippery slope again.

Because once a juvie princess, always a juvie princess?

No. She hadn’t let that voice of her detention cellmate taunt her for years. She wasn’t about to start now.

And yet, she couldn’t stop the despair that mingled with anxiety as her gaze drifted over the orange-splashed water towards the stunning silhouette of Sugarloaf Mountain in the distance.

Under normal circumstances, the sights and sounds would have filled her with excitement and awe. For a girl with her past and dire upbringing, sights such as these didn’t feature in her normal. Except these weren’t normal circumstances. And fear was threatening to block out every other emotion.

Which was dangerous. She couldn’t afford to fail. Yet success would bring nothing but shame. Would prove that the past really never stayed in the past.

But the reality was her stepfather had gone too far this time, hedged his bets, literally, with the wrong person.

Joaquin, with his soft voice and deadly smile, had calmly given her two choices.

Come to Rio or watch Stephen rot in jail.

Of course, Joaquin had counted on the fact that, aside from his very public humiliation of being thrown out of his Foreign Office position for gambling away government money, Stephen Nichols’s devotion to his wife meant he would do anything to save her the distress of watching him suffer. As would Jasmine.

Even when Jasmine was a child, long before Stephen had entered their lives, her mother’s fragility had meant she had assumed the role of the caretaker. Her mother wouldn’t survive losing Stephen.

So here Jasmine was, about to step into a quagmire she wasn’t sure any amount of self-affirmation would wash her clean of.

‘He’s here!’

She roused herself from her maudlin self-pitying. A quick glance showed it was precisely eight o’clock. Her heart double somersaulted into her throat. When her stomach threatened to follow suit, she took a hasty sip of champagne. Whatever Dutch courage she hoped to gain was sorely lacking as the butterflies in her stomach grew into vicious crows.

Following the direction of excited voices and pointing, she focused on the bottom of the cliff. A sleek speedboat approached, foaming waves billowing behind the fast-moving craft. It gathered speed as it neared the shore. Swerving at the last second, it created a huge arc of water that rushed to the shore in a giant wave before heading away from the jetty.

The pilot executed a series of daredevil manoeuvres that brought gasps of delight from the crowd and left the other two occupants—bodyguards, judging by their bulging muscles and ill-fitting suits—clinging grim-faced to the sides.

Finally, bringing the vessel alongside the quay, the tuxedoed figure stepped boldly onto the bow of the boat and jumped lithely down onto the jetty. Smiling at the enthusiastic applause, he clasped his hands in front of him and gave a deep bow.

Jasmine released the breath trapped in her lungs. So, this was Prince Reyes Navarre. Considering his near reclusive status, she was surprised he’d chosen such a narcissistic, highly OTT entrance. She wrinkled her nose.

‘You’re not impressed with His Royal Highness’s maritime prowess?’ a deep voice enquired from behind her left shoulder.

Jasmine jumped and whirled around. She’d assumed she was alone on the terrace, everyone else having rushed down into the main hall to welcome the prince.

How had this man moved so silently behind her? She hadn’t even felt his presence until he’d spoken. Jasmine’s gaze raced up, and up, until it collided with dark grey eyes.

Immediately, she wanted to look away, to block the probing gaze. She had no idea why, but the urge was so overwhelming, she took a step back.

A strong hand seized her arm. ‘Careful, pequeña. It is a long tumble from the terrace and the evening is too beautiful to mar with tragedy.’

Glancing behind her, she realised she’d stepped dangerously close to the low wall bordering the terrace.

‘Oh. Thank you.’ Her words twisted around her tongue. Her senses dovetailed on the warm hand that held her. She looked down at the elegant fingers on her skin and drew in a sharp breath. His bold touch transmitted an alien sensation through her blood.

As if he felt it too, his fingers tightened imperceptibly. A second later, he let go. ‘So, you don’t like speedboats?’ He nodded over her head at the spectacle below.

She tried to pry her gaze from his face, but she only succeeded in moving her head a fraction, before becoming equally hypnotised by the alluring spectacle of his mouth.

It was just spectacularly...sensual. Like his eyes, the lines of his lips drew equal interest from her stunned senses. Without stopping to assess her reaction, she found herself raising her hand to his face.

A hair’s breadth away, she saw his eyes widen. Her heart slammed with horror and embarrassment at what she’d almost done. She snatched her hand back and for a split second contemplated taking that fatal step backwards. Maybe dashing herself over the rocks at the bottom of the cliff would knock some sense into her.

‘What makes you say that?’ she prevaricated when it became clear he expected an answer to his question.

‘You have a very expressive face.’ His beautifully deep accented voice was solemn.

‘Oh.’ She stalled and tried to think fast. What could she say without causing offence? ‘They’re okay, I guess. I mean, they’re not my thing. Too fast. Too...wet.’ Not to mention, they reminded her of the times Stephen had taken her out on his boat very soon after she and her mother had gone to live with him. Still in her destructive phase, she’d given him a hard time about those trips. Despite his many reassurances, a part of her had remained untrusting, afraid he’d end up being like all the men her mother had fallen for in the past. Each morning, she’d woken up anxious that that would be the day Stephen tossed them out of his life. He hadn’t, of course, but she still couldn’t look at a boat without remembering that distressing period. ‘But they’re nice to look at, I suppose.’ She bit her lip to stop further inanity spilling out.

The stranger’s grave nod did nothing to distract her stare.

‘But exhilarating, some would say. No?’

Light-headedness encroached. Exhilarating. Breath-stealing. Captivating. But all those adjectives had nothing to do with speedboats and everything to do with the man in front of her.

Belatedly, Jasmine realised she hadn’t taken a single breath since she’d clapped eyes on him. Sucking in oxygen restored some much-needed brain activity. ‘I wouldn’t know. I’ve never been inclined to take a trip on one. Mainly because I get seasick standing on a beach.’

‘That’s a shame. There is a tranquillity I find on water that I haven’t found anywhere else.’

The thought of this man, powerfully built, quietly commanding and confident, craving tranquillity touched a strange place inside her.

‘My stepfather loves the water too.’ Damn. She needed to watch her tongue.

‘But something about it makes you sad?’ His voice softened as his eyes grew even more solemn.

Her startled gaze flew to his. ‘Why do you say that?’

‘You speak with fondness but your eyes darken with unhappiness.’

His intuitiveness disturbed her, made her feel vulnerable. Wrenching her gaze from his, she looked around. The terrace was deserted, but soft lights glowed from exquisite crystal-cut chandeliers and showed the guests slowly filling the large hall.

The hall...

Where she should be. Trying to make contact with Prince Reyes Navarre.

Instead she was alone with this strangely captivating man.

A man she didn’t know.

Although she’d talked herself into believing not every stranger meant her harm, she knew better than most which situations to avoid. Being alone with a man twice her size wasn’t a good idea.

But rather than fear, a thrum of excitement fizzed through her veins. Her breathing constricted, her heart thumping loud in her ears as she inhaled. Almost drawn by an invisible force, her gaze returned to his face.

His black dinner jacket and crisp white shirt gave his features a vibrancy, helped in no small measure by the golden perfection of his skin. Cast in part shadow by the broad shoulders blocking the light, his taut cheekbones and strong, uncompromising jaw made her fingers tingle with the urge to explore him.

As she stared his mouth hardened into a tight line, as if he held some emotion in. The strong need to touch those lips, experience their firm texture and soothe them softer with her thumb grew. Her eyes flashed back to his to find him regarding her, waiting for a response.

‘I have issues with water. Let’s just leave it at that.’

He looked as if he would demand more. But he merely nodded. ‘Tell me your name.’ His authoritative tone demanded nothing but her compliance.

Without questioning why, she answered, ‘Jasmine Nichols.’

His solemn expression altered, fleetingly replaced by a small smile that creased his lips. ‘You are named after the flower that blooms in the gardens of my home, Jasmine.’ His voice caressed her name in a way that made all the hairs on her body strain to life. ‘It is a fragile yet sturdy flower that has soothed us with its heady fragrance for thousands of years.’

Overwhelmed by the equally heady blend of emotion swirling through her, she gave a nervous laugh. ‘Blimey, I hope I don’t look that old!’

‘Be assured. You don’t.’

His smile disappeared, but she suspected he was still amused by her. The thought created a joyous fizz in her blood. It struck her that this man, whoever he was, hadn’t smiled or laughed in a long time. The urgent need to catch another glimpse of that enigmatic smile grew.

‘Great. Living to a thousand sounds like fun, but I bet it becomes a nuisance after that. A few more decades will do me just fine, though. I have things to do, people to impress.’

Joy sang in her chest when he rewarded her with another fleeting smile.

‘I have no doubt that you will make your mark on the world before you leave it.’ His head dipped in a shallow bow. ‘Enjoy the rest of your evening, Jasmine.’ With graceful, long-limbed strides, he walked away from her.

His abrupt departure stunned her into stillness. She watched four figures detach themselves from the shadowed doorway and fall into step behind him. She didn’t need to be told they were bodyguards.

And rightly so. He was far too lethal to walk around without armed escort.

It wasn’t until he reached the bottom of the stairs that led into the main hall that she regained the power of speech.

‘Holy hotness, Batman,’ she muttered under her breath, still more than a little stunned.

Watching him cut a path through the assembled crowd, Jasmine realised she hadn’t even asked his name. Without pausing to think, she dashed through the doors after him.

She came to a screeching halt after a few steps.

What was she doing? She hadn’t come to Rio to check out its male citizens, or to fall flat on her face for the first enigmatic man who looked at her with deep, hypnotically solemn eyes.

The real reason wrenched her back to reality, making any dream she harboured glaringly impossible. Whoever the mysterious, formidable stranger was, he had nothing to do with her mission here.

A mission that should’ve been the one and only thing on her mind.

She slid her wrap closer to ward off the sudden chill invading her body.

How could she have lost sight of her objective so quickly? Her stepfather’s well-being depended on her. Running after a man who’d made her feel so alive, so special that she would have given up all she held dear to spend another minute in his presence was out of the question.

She clutched her grey silk purse and tried to think clearly, but it was no use. His smell, the feel of his hand on her skin, the intensity of his dark gaze that seemed to see past the outer trappings of civilised conversation to her inner self, remained imprinted on her.

Her breath rushed out shakily. She tried to tell herself what she’d felt didn’t matter. That wasn’t her purpose here. The only thing that mattered was finding Prince Reyes, getting her hands on the treaty and making it out of here in one piece. By way of grounding herself, she recited the list once more and forced herself to move into the hall as she did so.

The first thing she noticed was that the man she’d been speaking to was now on the other side of the room. Similarly suited men surrounded him, yet he remained curiously aloof, standing out so spectacularly, everyone else faded into insignificance.

Forcing her gaze away, she looked around. In halting Portuguese, she tried to enquire discreetly from her waiter which of the men was Prince Reyes, but her query only drew a blank stare.

Her anxiety returned when she realised most of the conversation going on around her was in Portuguese. Naïvely, she’d assumed since most of the staff at her hotel spoke English, everyone in Rio did too.

But the man who’d spoken to her on the terrace had used perfect English.

So ask him.

Except she couldn’t. She’d have to cross the room to get to him, and in the time she’d been dithering his audience had tripled.

Insinuating herself into his crowd would only draw attention to herself. And for what she’d come here to do, anonymity was key. Wishing she’d pressed Joaquin Esteban for more details about the prince, she cast another look around.

A bell sounded nearby, making her jump. Guests started taking their places at the long banquet table. She found her place and had just sat down when a light-haired man joined her.

He looked at her hopefully. ‘Please tell me you speak English?’

Jasmine smiled with relief. ‘Yes, I do.’

‘Thank God! You think your Portuguese is all right until someone asks you a question. Then even the little you know flies straight out of your head. I’m Josh, by the way.’

‘Jasmine,’ she responded.

‘Crazy, isn’t it?’

Startled, Jasmine glanced sideways to him. ‘Sorry?’

He nodded to the group of men taking their seats at the far end of the long banquet table. ‘Unbelievable that between the two of them, those men control nearly half of the steel and precious gems in the world.’

Unwilling to disclose her ignorance, she murmured, ‘Right.’

‘Shame their trade relations are in a shambles, though. Hopefully once the treaty is signed, there should be some semblance of order, otherwise the chaos will only get worse.’ He shook his head. ‘Prince Reyes has done an outstanding job of bringing the treaty to fruition, though. Have to commend him on that.’ He took a healthy gulp of champagne.

Sneaking in a breath to calm her screeching nerves, she casually asked, ‘Which one is Prince Reyes?’

He looked puzzled for a second, then he shrugged. ‘I understand how you might be confused. They’re descended from the same bloodline, after all.’ He nodded to the men. ‘Mendez, the shorter one who rocked up in the speedboat, is the birthday boy celebrating the big four-oh. He’s in charge of Valderra, the larger of the two kingdoms. The taller one at the head of the table, talking to the prime minster, is Reyes. Don’t get me wrong, his might be the smaller of the kingdoms, but Santo Sierra is definitely the big kahuna.’

Jasmine’s throat threatened to close up as she absorbed the information. Her fingers clenched around her cutlery as ice drenched her blood.

The lights went up just then and two officious-looking men stepped up to the twin podiums carrying black briefcases. Heart in her throat, she realised what she’d done.

She’d been speaking to Prince Reyes Navarre all along!

And she’d told him her name!

After a short speech, the first stage of the treaty signing was completed. Jasmine watched as the documents were placed back in the briefcases.

Clammy sweat soaked her palms. Carefully, she set down her knife and fork. Every instinct told her to get up. Run. Not stop until she was on the next plane back to London.

But how could she? Even if she sold her two-bedroom East London flat and somehow found the balance to pay the half a million pounds owed to Joaquin, the loan shark still possessed enough documentary evidence to bury her stepfather.

Jasmine’s heart lurched at the thought. Her family was far from perfect, but Stephen Nichols had single-handedly ensured she and her mother had been given a much-needed second chance. There was no way Jasmine was going to turn her back on him now.

Nervously, she swallowed the moisture in her mouth. ‘You mean, Prince Reyes is the tall one...’ with the impossibly broad shoulders, sad eyes and expressive, elegant hands, she nearly blurted out.

‘Looking our way right now,’ her table companion muttered, a vein of surprise trailing his voice.

Her head jerked up and slate-grey eyes locked on hers. Even from the length of the banquet table, the stranger from the terrace loomed larger than life, his stare unwavering.

Except he wasn’t an intriguing stranger any more.

He was the man she’d come to steal from.


CHAPTER TWO (#u3ead9f6e-dd22-5d66-aac3-44bdd9ef63ac)

SHAME SHOULD HAVE been the paramount emotion ruling Jasmine as her gaze remained trapped in Prince Reyes’s stare.

Instead, the alien emotion from earlier pulsed through her again, and, impossibly, everything and everyone seemed to fade away. Even the sound of her own breathing slowed until she barely knew whether she breathed in or out.

Alarmed and more than a little unsettled, Jasmine wrenched her gaze away. All through the meal she barely tasted, she forced herself to make light conversation with Josh. But even with her focus firmly turned away from Prince Reyes, she could feel his stare, heavy and speculative, on her.

Now, realising just how precarious a position she’d put herself in, Jasmine was barely able to hold it together. Which was why she didn’t hear Josh clear his throat.

Once. Twice.

Her gaze jerked up to find Prince Reyes Navarre standing next to her. Startled, she dropped the knife and cringed as it clattered onto her plate.

‘Miss Nichols, was your meal satisfactory?’ He glanced pointedly at her half-eaten meal.

Aware of the countless pairs of eyes on her, Jasmine wasn’t sure whether to remain seated or stand and curtsy. She opted to remain seated. ‘Y-yes, it was, thank you.’

‘I am not interrupting, I hope?’ A glance at Josh that was at once courteous and incisive.

‘No, we’re...just two countrymen who find themselves at the same table.’ Josh laughed.

‘How...fortunate,’ Prince Reyes said, his gaze speculative as it rested on the other man.

Vaguely, she saw him gesture. Suddenly, the guests rose from their places and started to mingle. Sensing some sort of etiquette being observed, Jasmine stood shakily to her feet.

Snagging the edge of her heel on her chair, she stumbled.

Prince Reyes caught her arm. She gasped at the electricity sizzling over her skin. When she straightened, he dropped his arm and just stared at her.

A block of silence fell between them. For the life of her, Jasmine couldn’t form any words to ease the sudden tension. Heat crawled over her body and her dress felt suddenly very restrictive.

Josh cleared his throat a third time, glanced from one to the other, then put his glass down. ‘I need to find a business acquaintance. Please excuse me, Your Highness.’ He bowed quickly, then scurried away before Jasmine could draw breath.

And once again, Jasmine was trapped by a pair of compelling grey eyes.

‘Are you here with him?’ Prince Reyes asked.

Did she detect a hint of disapproval in his tone? She raised her chin. ‘No, I’m here on my own.’

If anything, his disapproval increased.

She scrambled to continue. ‘I was told Rio was safe. So far nothing’s happened to make me think otherwise.’

A gleam smouldered in his eyes. ‘Danger comes in all forms, Miss Nichols. Sometimes in least expected packages. I’d urge you to practise caution.’

Hearing him use her surname instead of her first name as he had on the terrace, made her realise how much she missed hearing it.

‘Thank you for the advice...umm...Your Highness.’ She didn’t add that she wouldn’t need it. She didn’t plan on being here long enough to get into any more danger than she was putting herself in tonight. In fact, as soon as she’d completed the hateful task, she was heading to the airport to catch the next flight out. ‘But it’s really not necessary.’

He continued to regard her in that disquieting manner. A tiny shiver shimmied along her skin; the enormity of her task hit her, sharp and forceful.

Again the instinct to run slammed through her and it took everything Jasmine possessed to stand her ground and continue to meet his eyes.

This man possessed her only means to save her stepfather. Instead of dismissing his concern, she should be using it. The shame welling inside her didn’t matter. The fear of stepping over the line couldn’t be allowed to overtake the most important thing—saving Stephen. Saving her family.

She watched, scrambling to keep her distressing thoughts from showing, as Prince Reyes held out his hand. ‘Very well. Far be it from me to cause offence by suggesting one of my bodyguards accompany you to your hotel. It was a pleasure to meet you, Miss Nichols.’ He turned away and she noticed said bodyguards take their protective stance behind him. One was carrying the briefcase containing the treaty.

He was leaving! Taking with him the only chance of saving her stepfather.

Gripping her purse, she cleared her throat and quickly back-pedalled. ‘Actually, you’re right. A strange city isn’t a place for a woman to be wandering at night. I’d be grateful for your assistance.’

She heard the indrawn breath of the nearest guests, but ignored it.

Letting Prince Reyes leave was unthinkable. She’d travelled thousands of miles to make sure her stepfather didn’t go to jail. Ten minutes was all she needed. Less, if she was really quick. She had to get her hands on that treaty. Even if it meant following a predator straight into his den.

He turned. Jasmine’s breath stalled as his eyes darkened. He stared at her for what felt like an eternity before his lids descended. She sensed his withdrawal before he spoke.

‘I’ll arrange for my chauffeur to deliver you to your hotel.’ He was already nodding to a dark-clad figure nearby.

Acute anxiety swelled inside her.

She couldn’t fail. She just couldn’t. Stephen might just survive prison but her mother wouldn’t make it.

‘Or I could come with you. Save your chauffeur making two trips,’ she offered, cringing at the breathless tone of her voice.

He held up a hand to stop the bodyguard who stepped forward, his gaze imprisoning hers. Silence pulsed between them. A silence filled with charged signals that made the blood pulse heavily between her thighs. Every sense sprang into super-awareness. She could hear every sound, smell every scent on the evening breeze, feel every whisper of air over her heating skin. Her nipples hardened and her cheeks heated at the blatant evidence of her awareness of him.

The thought that she was insanely attracted to a man whom she planned to deceive, albeit temporarily, caused hysterical laughter to bubble up.

She strained not to react. To keep the wrap draped over her arms and not use it to hide the proof of her arousal. She’d never used her feminine wiles to capture a man’s attention. Doing so now made her insides clench with disgust. All the same, a small part of her gave a cry of triumph when his eyes dropped to her chest for an infinitesimal moment.

‘You want to come with me? Now?’ His voice had altered, his eyes narrowing with icy suspicion that warned her to tread carefully.

Jasmine couldn’t afford to back away. She had too much to lose.

‘Yes. Take me with you. My hotel isn’t that far from here. I’ll even buy you a drink as a thank you.’ The single brain cell that remained shook with astonishment at her boldness. Afraid that her plea had emerged more of a command, and might perhaps cause offence, she hastily added, ‘If you don’t mind.’

His gaze darkened with a predatory gleam that made Jasmine swallow in trepidation. ‘Perhaps it is you who should mind, Miss Nichols. Some would advise you against what you’re asking.’

With deliberate slowness, she passed the tip of her tongue over her lower lip. Stark hunger blazed in his eyes, stealing her breath as the grey depths turned almost black. A warm rush of air whispered over her skin, but even that small change caused her to gasp as if he’d physically laid his hands on her.

‘Maybe, but something tells me I can trust you,’ she replied, her nerves jangling with terror at the uncharted waters she found herself in. Flirting and sexual games had never been her forte. Not since her one attempt at university had ended in humiliating disaster.

Another step brought Prince Reyes within touching distance. His narrowed eyes, still holding that trace of sadness she’d glimpsed earlier, were now laced with a healthy dose of bitterness.

Jasmine didn’t have time to dwell on his expression because his scent engulfed her, fuelling her already frenzied senses. She inhaled, filling her entire being with his essence. As if he sensed it too, his nostrils flared.

‘You’re playing a dangerous game, Jasmine,’ he murmured.

‘It...it’s just a lift back to my h-hotel,’ she croaked.

‘Perhaps. Or it is something else. Something neither of us is ready for.’ His voice was pitched low, for her ears alone. His gaze slid over her face, its path as forceful and yet as gentle as a silky caress.

‘I’ll be out of your hair in less than half an hour. Seriously, you have nothing to fear from me.’ Liar. She tried to curb the accusing voice, thankful when it faded away under the onslaught of the heavy emotion beating in her chest.

His jaw tightened. ‘I have everything to fear from you.’ Again the bitterness, sharper this time. ‘The curse of a beautiful woman has been my ancestors’ downfall.’

She forced a laugh. Beautiful? Her? Well, if he could flatter, so could she. ‘So prove it’s not true. Deliver me to my hotel and walk away. Then you’ll be free of this...curse.’

He tilted his head to one side, as if weighing her request. His hand rose again, this time to reach down to encircle her wrist.

With a subtle but firm tug, he pulled her to him.

‘If walking away resolved centuries-old issues, my kingdom wouldn’t be in shambles.’

‘I didn’t mean—’

He pulled her closer. Jasmine was too mesmerised by this enigmatic man to acknowledge the curious stares of the guests beyond the protective circle of Prince Reyes’s bodyguards. And he didn’t seem too disturbed by their growing audience.

His stare turned into a frown. ‘You intrigue me, Jasmine Nichols.’

‘Is that a bad thing?’

He stepped back and he seemed to come to a decision. ‘I’m not certain, but I wish to find out. Come.’

* * *

Reyes Navarre drew a deep breath.

What in Dios’s name was he doing? Not since Anaïs had he behaved so rashly. His carefree period of picking up liaisons for a night had come to a jagged halt five years ago when he’d experienced for himself just how duplicitous women could be. His own mother had hammered that lesson home forcefully in the weeks before her death.

Overnight, Reyes had witnessed the family he’d foolishly thought he could bring together disintegrate beyond recognition. He’d watched the will to live slowly extinguish from his father’s eyes until only a husk remained.

Reyes’s chest tightened painfully with equal parts of remorse and bitterness. Remorse that grew each day because he knew he’d failed to grant his father, King Carlos, his one wish—an heir to the throne while he was still alive. Bitterness because his father had condemned Reyes for choosing to learn from past mistakes. What his father didn’t know was the woman Reyes had thought would be his queen had turned out to be just as conniving and as faithless as his own mother.

The double blow had made abstinence a far better prospect. One he’d embraced and pushed to the back of his mind when his father’s health had worsened.

But tonight...

He glanced at the woman whose delicate scent filled every corner of the limo.

She hadn’t spoken since they’d driven away from the banquet, but Reyes had caught the fleeting glances she sent his way every now and then. Just as he’d glimpsed the little darts of her tongue at the corner of mouth when her gaze fell on him.

She did it again, just then. A different sort of tightening seized his body.

Grinding his teeth, Reyes forced himself to examine why Jasmine Nichols intrigued him. Perhaps it was being away from Santo Sierra for the first time in over a year. Perhaps it was the knowledge that, after months of tough negotiations, Mendez had finally agreed to sign the trade treaty.

Or it could be that he just needed to let himself feel something other than bitterness and recrimination...to experience a moment of oblivion before the relentless pressure of his birthright settled back on his shoulders.

Whatever the reason, he didn’t stop himself from pressing the intercom that connected him to the driver.

‘Take us to the boat,’ he instructed.

Jasmine immediately turned to him. ‘You’re not taking me to my hotel?’ Her voice held a touch of trepidation but no hint of panic.

She knew the score.

As he should.

Except he didn’t.

He was acting out of character. Had been from the moment he saw her.

His smile felt strained. ‘You owe me a drink, I believe. I’m choosing to take it before I have you delivered to your hotel, not after.’

‘Just in case I renege? You’re not very trusting, are you?’

The twinge in his chest stung deeper, but he refused to acknowledge it. ‘No, I’m not.’

Her eyes widened and she looked away. ‘Are we really going to your boat?’ she asked with a curious note in her voice.

‘Yes.’

Reyes remembered she didn’t like boats. Was that why he’d brought her to his yacht instead of the royal suite that awaited him at the Four Seasons? Was he hoping she would quail at the sight of the big floating palace and ask to be returned to her hotel?

Or had he brought her here for his own selfish reasons? Because, for some reason, focusing on her made his tumultuous feelings subside just a little?

All through the interminable dinner, he’d watched her, his gaze unable to stray from her for more than a few seconds because every time it had, he’d felt the darkness encroaching.

He watched her now from the corner of his eye, waiting for a reaction. But her hands remained folded in her lap, her gaze on the large vessel they’d pulled up to.

Unfortunately his thoughts and emotions suffered no such languor or calm. They churned in rhythm to the heavy pounding of his heart at what was to come.

Thoughts of sating himself on a woman had been pushed far back into the recesses of his mind, especially in the last year as he’d battled to salvage the trade treaty with Valderra. But his efforts had paid off.

He’d brought Mendez and Valderra to the treaty table, the result of which would mean a much-needed economic boost for his people.

Tomorrow they would complete the signing of the Santo-Valderra treaty. The concessions had been heavy. Mendez had made outrageous demands, like the excessively extravagant banquet held here tonight to honour his birthday. A ceremony Reyes had initially balked at attending, but had eventually given in to, because he suspected Mendez would use any excuse to postpone the final signing of the treaty.

The concessions Santo Sierra had given would be recouped with time. And, most importantly, the trade blockage had been removed.

He still faced an uphill battle in convincing his council members to accept the changes to come. And there was also his father...

Reyes pushed thoughts of his father and grief aside and reminded himself that his father was alive.

And for one night, this night, Reyes intended to turn his mind to more...pleasant matters.

Jasmine sat in silence beside him, a beacon in the gloom that threatened to swallow him whole. But Reyes sensed that she was almost as reluctant as he to test the depths of awareness that zinged between them, just as he was quietly amazed by the depth of his attraction for her.

The memory of her skin when he’d held her on the balcony returned. His hand tightened next to his thigh.

He’d taken one look at Jasmine and the foundations of his self-imposed celibacy had started to shake. All through the banquet he’d been unable to take his eyes off her, a notion that had at once fascinated and irritated him. By the time the banquet was over, he’d known his resistance was severely compromised.

Yet, he’d been determined to walk away. Bitter experience and the heavy burden of duty had taught him to weigh his decisions carefully.

One-night stands weren’t his modus operandi.

So what in the name of Dios was he doing?

He hadn’t touched her since that last electrifying contact, and yet a storm unlike anything he’d ever known raged inside him. From the corner of his eye, he watched her fiddle with one earring. The sweet, yet provocative movement fanned the inferno of his lust.

‘Are we going to get out?’ Her question emerged with that same breathy, husky quality that sent shivers racing through him. Her eyes, blue like the ocean surrounding his kingdom, slid to his and the throb in his groin accelerated.

‘Momentarily,’ he replied, hoping for some last-minute perspective.

But the only perspective his brain was willing to consider was the one where this enthralling woman ended up in his bed, her voluptuous body quenching his ferocious need.

She’d shown herself a worthy opponent, and yes, he considered the insane tug and pull of attraction between them a battleground. A battle from which he would emerge the victor and walk away with everything he held dear intact.

During their intriguing exchange not once had her gaze slid from his. In fact, more than once he’d seen a spark of defiance in the blue vividness of her eyes. That spark had ignited something inside him he’d long forgotten.

It had reminded him of a carefree time when life had been less fraught.

He glanced up at the lights of his yacht. He’d deliberately not moored at the same quay as Prince Mendez because he’d wanted to avoid the avid media attention Mendez courted.

Reyes preferred privacy...solitude...silence. His mother had created enough chaos in his life when she was alive.

So what are you doing bringing a total stranger on board?

He faced Jasmine.

Her gaze immediately riveted to his and heat surged through his bloodstream. She gave a nervous smile and pulled her wrap tighter around her. He frowned at the protective gesture. The interior of the car wasn’t cold, in fact the night air blowing gently through the half-open windows was sultry. So there could be only one other reason for the telling gesture.

‘It’s not too late to change your mind.’ His statement emerged harsher than he’d intended, partly, he realised, because he didn’t want her to leave.

Her eyes widened and she wavered for a second before a curiously resolute look settled over her face. ‘No. A deal is a deal. Although I’m not sure how to go about buying you a drink when we’re boarding your boat.’

Relief made him exhale unsteadily. He signalled to his bodyguard, who opened the door. Reyes handed him the briefcase holding the treaty and held out his hand to Jasmine. ‘We’ll continue our debate on board.’

She glanced from his hand to his yacht. He held his breath. Slowly, she reached out. His grip tightened on her fingers as he stepped out of the car and helped her out. He’d taken two steps when he felt her tug at his grip.

‘Wait. I can’t do this.’

Disappointment curled through him. Reyes bit back a sharp retort as he dropped her hand. In the time since his last liaison, the world hadn’t changed, then, he mused caustically. Women continued to tease, to engage in sexual games in the hope that playing hard to get would make them seem more attractive to the opposite sex. The bitterness he’d tried to douse welled up again.

‘Save the excuses, Miss Nichols. I’m disappointed that women seem to believe creating intrigue involves mind games, but I am not willing to indulge you.’ He nodded to his driver, who stepped forward. ‘You’ll be delivered to your hotel. Enjoy the rest of your stay in Rio.’ He couldn’t stem the regret that settled gut-deep inside him. Not to mention the uncomfortable arousal that tightened his groin and made thinking straight difficult.

He turned away, wanting to be far away from her, from the temptation of her voluptuous body and seductive scent that insisted on lingering in the air around him.

‘Actually, that’s not what I want.’ She sounded hurt and a little confused. ‘I didn’t mean that I’d changed my mind about the drink.’

He whirled round. ‘Then what did you mean, Jasmine?’

An uneasy look crossed her face. ‘I told you, I don’t really like boats. But I thought I’d make an exception...just this once...’ She shook her head. ‘Anyway, I’m not coming aboard wearing these shoes.’ She gestured to her feet.

Puzzled, he frowned. ‘What?’

‘My step—umm, I read somewhere that heels and boats aren’t a good combination.’ Her shrug drew his attention to the silky curve of her shoulder. ‘Of course, I don’t know what sort of flooring you have on your yacht, but I don’t want to ruin it.’

Laughter replaced Reyes’s disappointment. It rumbled through his chest, a sensation he hadn’t felt for a while.

‘My floors? You don’t want to ruin the floors on my boat?’ His incredulity grew with his words and he barely stopped himself from shaking his head.

‘No, I don’t. Plus, my feet are seriously killing me. So if you don’t mind?’ She held out her hand for him to take. ‘It’ll only take a minute.’

Caught in the surreal moment, Reyes took her hand. He felt the rough ridge of scarred tissue and looked at the thin line crossing her palm. About to ask what had caused it, he was stalled by the sight of one graceful leg, lifted, one ankle strap unbuckled before the process was repeated with the other shoe.

His gaze dropped to her feet. They were small but perfectly formed with pink tips. The sight only aroused him further, tweaked his already dangerously heightened senses.

‘Good idea,’ he murmured inanely, his voice curiously hoarse.

She nodded and fell into step beside him. ‘I think it’s only fair to warn you, though, the last time I rode a dinghy, I ended up falling overboard. I hope you’ll rescue me if that happens again?’

A smile tugged at his lips. ‘As you can see, my boat is slightly bigger than your dinghy. It’ll take a lot of effort to accidentally go overboard. But be assured, I’ll come to your aid should the worst happen.’

‘Well, if you put it that way, then I have nothing to worry about,’ she said with a smile.

Reyes smiled, feeling less burdened than he had in a long time. He took her shoes as they approached the gangplank and followed her up the stairs onto the deck and through into the large, open salon. He watched her take in her surroundings, her mouth parting to inhale sharply at the opulence that embraced her.

Reyes had seen different reactions to his yacht, some openly covetous and some hidden behind careful indifference. Jasmine’s eyes widened in something close to childlike, uninhibited awe as she took in the polished wood panels, gold ornamentation and monogrammed accessories in royal Santo Sierran blue he’d commissioned for the vessel.

‘Wow!’ She turned full circle and found him watching her. A faint blush touched her cheeks and she walked over to the large sofa and perched on the edge. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to gush.’

‘A genuine reaction is better than artificial indifference.’ He walked over to her and placed her shoes next to her.

‘Seriously? Who would be indifferent to this?’ She waved her hand around the deck.

‘People with ulterior motives they prefer to hide?’ The last female on this boat had been Anaïs. She’d been in full playing-hard-to-get mode, which had swiftly crumbled when Reyes had threatened to walk away. Of course, she’d had other aces up her sleeve. ‘In my experience, people are rarely what they seem at first blush.’

‘Oh, right.’ Jasmine’s eyes darted to his and slid away, and she seemed lost for words. Her tongue darted out to lick the corner of her lip.

Reyes’s heart beat just that little bit faster. His fingers tightened as anticipation fizzed faster through his veins.

Her skin, creamy with the barest hint of tan, glowed under the soft lights of his deck. His fingers itched to touch, to caress. But he held back.

There would be time for that later. He had no doubt he was about to indulge in something he’d never indulged in before—a one-night stand; this could be nothing more than that—but he didn’t want to rush it.

Morning would come soon enough. The treaty would be signed. He would ensure Santo Sierra’s continued economic prosperity. And he would return to his father’s bedside to continue his vigil.

But for now... ‘I think it’s time for that drink, yes?’

* * *

Jasmine swallowed her relief as the heated look in Prince Reyes’s eyes abated. For a moment there, he’d looked as if he wanted to devour her where she stood.

And as much as that had sent a bolt of excitement through her, part of her had quailed at the look.

Hastily, she nodded. ‘Yes, thank you.’

She watched him walk towards an extensive, gleaming wood-panelled bar. A steward approached, but he waved him away. Opening a chiller, he grabbed a bottle of wine and expertly uncorked it. Rounding the bar, he handed her a glass and indicated a row of low, luxurious sofas.

Taking the seat next to her, he lowered his long body into it, driving the breath straight out of her lungs.

‘What shall we drink to?’ he asked in a low, deep voice, his stare focused solely on her.

Jasmine’s mouth dried. ‘Um, how about congratulations on the progress you’ve made with the treaty so far?’ Talking about the treaty helped keep her grounded, reminded her why she was here.

His smile held more than a hint of pride. ‘Gracias.’

‘Did you achieve what you set out for?’

Against his usual guarded judgement he found himself sharing with her. ‘It was a long, hard battle, but we’re almost there. By this time tomorrow, a solid trade agreement will exist between our two kingdoms, something my people have needed for a long time.’

Jasmine’s heart thudded loudly in her ears. Her hands started to shake and she hastily put her glass down. Sensing him following the movement, she flexed her fingers and smoothed them over her dress.

‘You should be back there, then, at the museum, celebrating. Why did you leave early?’

‘I don’t like crowds,’ he declared. His eyes widened, as if he’d let something slip he hadn’t meant to. A moment later, his expression shuttered.

Something inside her softened. ‘I don’t like crowds, either.’

His head snapped up, his gaze searching hers. At her small smile, his tense jaw relaxed.

‘I mean, who does, aside from rock stars and, well, crowd lovers?’ she joked. She wasn’t making much sense, but at the moment Jasmine would’ve kept babbling just to keep that smile on his face.

A small, enigmatic smile twitched his lips before he took a sip of his wine. ‘So what brings you to Rio alone?’ he asked. ‘Carnival was last month.’

She forced herself not to tense. For a wild moment Jasmine wondered if he could see through her to the truth of her presence in his life.

Clearing her throat, she shrugged and struck for the half-truth she’d practised in her head. ‘I haven’t had a holiday in years. An unexpected gap opened up in my schedule, and I took it.’

His eyes slowly narrowed, his fingers stilling around his wine glass. ‘And you just happened to gain the most sought-after invitation to the Prince of Valderra’s birthday party?’ Mild disbelief rang through his voice.

‘No. Of course not. My trip isn’t all play. The brokerage firm I work for have been following the Santo-Valderra negotiations for some time. When one of my...clients offered me the invitation, I thought it would be good experience to learn more about it.’

‘And have you?’

Jasmine shook her head. ‘Only what’s been released to the press, which is plenty interesting. I mean, from a brokerage point of view, it’s mind-blowing what you’ve achieved—’

Jaw tightening, he set his glass down with a sharp click. ‘And you want to know more? To gain first-hand information? Is that why you’re here?’


CHAPTER THREE (#u3ead9f6e-dd22-5d66-aac3-44bdd9ef63ac)

JASMINE SWALLOWED, TREPIDATION jangling her nerves. ‘I am interested, yes. But no, it’s not why I’m here.’ She spoke through the shame-coated lie.

His gaze dropped to her mouth. Heat rose in her belly, slowly engulfing her chest, her throat.

She fought to breathe as the feral, dangerously hungry look once more stole over his face, permeating the air with thick, saturated lust.

He reached out a hand, caught a lock of hair in his fingers and slowly caressed it. ‘Why exactly are you here, Jasmine Nichols? Why did you not demand to be returned to your hotel?’

‘I meant what I said. I’m intrigued by the treaty.’ That much was true. ‘From what I’ve been able to learn about it—’

He frowned. ‘What you’ve been able to learn? Are you a spy?’

‘No!’ she replied hurriedly. Hoping she wasn’t digging herself into an even deeper hole, she continued. ‘The firm I work for brokers deals like these all the time, on a much smaller scale...and I was just wondering if what I’d heard was right.’

‘What did you hear?’

‘That the treaty heavily favours Valderra...’ Her voice drifted away as a dark look blanketed his face.

God, what was she doing?

She wouldn’t be surprised if he threw her off the boat for prying.

‘Concessions were made prior to my handling of the negotiations that I have no choice but to honour.’ He didn’t sound happy about it. Just resigned.

She nodded. His fingers grazed her cheek. She only had to turn her head a fraction and she’d feel more of his touch. Her every sense craved that touch.

He drew closer, slowly, his fingers winding around a lock of her hair; his eyes not leaving hers. ‘Why do I get the feeling that you’re holding something back from me, Jasmine?’ he asked again, softly this time, his breath fanning over her lips. ‘Tell me why I’m fighting my instincts when I should be heeding them?’

Her insides quaked with fear...and anticipation. ‘I guess I could tell you that you’re not the only one feeling that way. There’s something about you. Something overpowering, that makes me...’

‘Makes you what?’

Shaking her head, she surged to her feet and stumbled to the railing. Frustrated tears stung her eyes as she stared into the dark waters.

She couldn’t do this.

She’d come too far, clawed herself back from a destructive, chaotic past. Going through with Joaquin’s plan, giving in to the thug’s demands would mean stepping back into that dark tunnel.

But walking away meant Stephen’s destruction. A broken mother.

She gulped down the sob that threatened.

And jumped when his lips touched the back of her neck. A mere graze. But it pushed back her dark despair, lit her up like a bonfire on a sultry summer’s night. As if galvanised by that simple touch, she came alive.

He grabbed her to him, one hand sliding around her shoulder while the other gripped her waist. He kissed the delicate skin below her ear, imprinting himself on her so vividly, every atom in her body screeched in delight.

He spun her in his arms and kissed her.

Jasmine had been kissed before. But not like this. Never like this. The fiery tingle started from her toes, spread through her body like wildfire, stinging her nerve endings. He tasted of wine, of dark, strong coffee, of heady pleasure that made her heart hammer as he drew her even closer.

Her breasts crushed into his chest. The imprint of his muscled torso against hers caused her fingers to tighten on his nape. He growled something under his breath, but the words were crushed between their lips as they both moved to deepen the kiss.

Somewhere deep within, a voice cautioned her against what she was doing. She tried to heed it, tried to pull back. Vaguely she sensed him move towards a doorway in the saloon.

Her good sense kicked in. ‘Wait...’

He carried on walking, his lips now straying to the astonishingly sensitive skin just below her ear. She shuddered, a melting deep inside that threatened to drown her.

‘Umm...’ She paused as she realised she didn’t know what to call him. What was the etiquette when you were snogging the face off a South American Crown Prince? ‘Your Highness...wait...’

His deep laugh made her blush. ‘When we are alone, you may call me Reyes. After all, you can hardly call me Your Highness when I’m deep inside you,’ he murmured into her ear. ‘Although that does present interesting possibilities...’

Her shocked gasp brought another laugh and Jasmine had to scramble to hang on to her sanity. ‘Please...Reyes, put me down,’ she pleaded.

Sensing her agitation, he slowly lowered her down before capturing her hands in his. ‘What is it, Jasmine?’

For one absurd moment, she wanted to blurt out her guilt, but bit her tongue at the last minute. ‘I haven’t...I mean, this isn’t something I normally do,’ she babbled instead.

Raising both her hands, he pressed kisses onto her knuckles, his stunning eyes cooling. ‘I understand. This is where you establish ground rules? Where I let you name your price because I’m too lust-hazed to see straight?’ he asked cynically.

The ground rocked beneath her. Somewhere along the line, life had dealt this man serious blows. The depths of his sadness, suspicion and cynicism weren’t traits he’d picked up by chance. And she should know. Life could be cruel beyond measure. Especially with men like Joaquin calling the shots.

But they only win if you let them...

The rebellious teenager whose antics had landed her in juvenile detention threatened to break through. Reminding herself just what was at stake here, she swallowed. ‘Is it too much to believe that I’m nervous and a little bit overwhelmed?’

He lowered her hands. His eyes narrowed, probed and assessed. Jasmine understood how it was that Reyes Navarre had negotiated the sometimes almost insurmountable treaty with Valderra.

‘So you don’t want anything from me?’ he asked.

Only the gritty determination that had seen her stand up to dangerous men twice her size kept her gaze from falling. ‘Honestly, I would like to see the treaty. But I won’t be sleeping with you because of that...’ She realised what she was saying and stopped. A scalding blush suffused her face. ‘I mean, nothing happens here that won’t be my choice—’

He stopped her with a finger to her mouth.

‘Understood. But remember this, too. Whatever happens between us will not go beyond tonight. It cannot,’ he stated imperiously. ‘My desire for you is finite.’

Hearing the words so starkly drew a cold shiver from her in spite of passion’s flames arcing between them. He felt it and immediately captured her shoulders. ‘But make no mistake. This desire burns bright and strong and I promise to make the experience—should you choose to stay for it—pleasurable for you.’

His accent had thickened, his words burning away the cold as if it had never existed. He lowered his head and brushed his lips over hers.

Jasmine swallowed as his words echoed in her head. A powerful aphrodisiac intent on eroding rational thought.

Walk away. Now!

She groaned and pulled away. ‘I can’t. I know you probably think I’m a tease, but I promise, I’m not. I’m not in the habit of jumping into bed with a man I just met. I hope you understand?’

Her mind made up, she took another step back and picked up her clutch. She couldn’t go through with it. She would find another way to save her stepfather. Whatever the repercussions, Jasmine would find a way to help Stephen and her mother deal with it.

But not this.

Whatever Joaquin needed the copy of the treaty for no longer mattered to her. The man who stood in front of her, who’d battled whatever demons haunted him to achieve this treaty for his kingdom, didn’t deserve what she’d planned tonight. She would never be able to live with herself if she went through with it; if she took a step back to that dark place she’d sworn never to revisit again.

Her heart lifted, lightened, filled with relief.

She looked up at Reyes and experienced a little thrill at the stark shock and disappointment on his face. She had reduced a powerful, virile man to...what had he called himself before? Lust-crazed?

Slightly heady with the feeling, she took another stumbling step back before she succumbed to temptation.

She was in an exotic country, in the presence of a charismatic man who seemed to set her very soul on fire. Jasmine knew that if she gave in—and she wouldn’t!—the experience with Reyes would be unique and would remain with her for ever.

After several more moments staring at her, he finally nodded. ‘Very well. I’ll summon my driver.’

Acute loss scythed through her. ‘That would be great, thank you.’

She watched him walk to the intercom next to the bar, holding her breath to keep from blurting for him to stop.

About to press the black button, he paused and looked over at her. ‘It’s not every day that I’m surprised, but you’ve succeeded in pulling the rug from beneath my feet,’ he said.

‘Umm...thanks. But why are you surprised?’

That reserved smile made another appearance and he turned. ‘You want me, but you’re walking away. I may not know why, but I admire the strong principle behind your decision. Perhaps you deserve a prize after all.’

‘Oh?’ Renewed excitement fizzed beneath her skin.

He retraced his steps and held out his hand. ‘If you still want to see it, I’ll show you the treaty.’

Oh. Jasmine wanted to refuse. Wanted to demand another prize, one that involved his mouth on hers. But that opportunity had passed. She’d refused Prince Reyes. A man like that wouldn’t place himself in a position to be spurned twice.

But neither could she resist the chance to glimpse a piece of Santo-Valderran history.

He led her down several flights of stairs into the heart of the yacht. Images of soft, mellow wood and rich chrome touched the edge of her consciousness. There seemed to be a lot of gold—chandeliers, paintings frames, doorknobs—but Jasmine was too caught up in Reyes Navarre’s magnificence and the electric awareness where his hand held hers for details of the décor to register.

She finally regained her senses when he released her upon entering his study. The space was masculine, the furniture rich antique. Expensive books on diplomacy, economics and culture lined one wall. First-edition literary works lined the other. Behind his desk, a Renaissance painting that would’ve had museum curators salivating graced the wall.

He smiled at her and skirted his desk. He pressed a lever beneath the painting and it swung back to reveal a safe. He entered a code and pressed his thumb against a digital scanner.

Jasmine held her breath as he slid out an expensive leather folder and came to stand beside her. Very conscious of the breadth of his shoulders and the heat emanating from his whipcord body, she struggled to focus on the treaty.

When the terms finally registered, she frowned. ‘Why would you agree to this?’

‘The terms aren’t up for discussion. I need to make the best of this situation.’

Puzzled, she stared at him. His gaze captured hers before dropping to her mouth. Awareness crackled through the air. Sucking in a breath, she refocused on reading the final pages. She noticed that various preliminary terms had been agreed every year for the past three years, the first signed by his father. Prince Mendez had played a cunning game, increasing his demands with each passing year.

She started to turn the last page. Reyes put his hand over hers. ‘The remaining terms are confidential.’

The effect of his hand on hers again made her pulse jump. ‘And what? You don’t trust me?’ she joked, hoping to inject a little lightness to ease the thick tension filling the room.

His hand trailed up her arm to slide around her nape. Tilting her head, he looked deep into her eyes. ‘Trust doesn’t come easy to me, but I’ve trusted you with more tonight than I have anyone in a long time, Jasmine.’

Her breath squeezed through the lump clogging her throat.

‘Why?’

He shrugged. ‘Perhaps I’m learning to trust my instincts again. Perhaps because you’re the only one who didn’t enjoy Mendez’s antics earlier.’ He smiled again.

Despite his attempt at a joke, Jasmine remained fiercely glad of her decision not to give in to Joaquin’s threat; she blinked back hot tears and smiled. ‘You have no idea how much that means to me.’

The lightness evaporated. He stepped closer, an almost desperate hunger screaming from his body. ‘I still want you, Jasmine. Very badly.’

Throwing caution to the wind shouldn’t have come so easily, shouldn’t have felt so freeing. Because she’d learned very early that everything came at a cost.

But she replied, ‘Take me,’ before she registered the enormity of the plunge she was taking.

The sensation of luxurious covers beneath her back was the first inkling that they’d left his study. The equally luxurious feel of him as he lowered himself on top of her confirmed that thought.

Crushed by his delicious weight, she couldn’t mistake the imprint of his impressive arousal pushing against her. Hot sensation pierced her, settling low in her belly as he deepened the kiss. His tongue delved into her mouth, commencing a bold exploration that left her reeling and struggling to hold on to the last of her sanity.

His hands slid down her sides, creating a path of heat wherever he touched. Locating her side zip, he eased it down.

At the touch of fingers on her skin, Jasmine gasped.

He raised his head, his dark grey eyes spiking into hers. ‘Your skin is so soft, so silky,’ he murmured huskily.

‘Thank you,’ she responded, then cringed, feeling suddenly gauche and awkward. The first time she’d done this, it had ended badly. Beyond badly. The second time had been worse. What if third time wasn’t lucky...?

She lost her train of thought as he gripped her hip. His heat penetrated the silk material to her skin, fanning the flame already building inside her. Wanting to experience even more of his warmth, she raised her head and traced his mouth with her tongue.

Her action drew a gasp from him, his eyes darkening even further as heat scoured over his taut cheekbones. ‘I hope you’ll forgive me,’ he murmured distractedly as he nuzzled her jaw, planting feverish kisses that caused her heart to pound harder.

‘What for?’ she managed to squeeze out.

He settled firmer against her. ‘It’s been a while for me. I will want to take my time.’

A wave of heat engulfed her face. ‘Oh. Yes...well, it’s been a while for me, too.’

A look crossed his face, almost of relief. Jasmine’s heart swelled, her hand finally unclasping itself from his neck to caress his cheek. He planted an open-mouthed kiss in her palm. That intimate caress drew another gasp from her. Pleased by her reaction, he traced his mouth over her wrist, down her arm to the curve of her elbow, and licked the pulse.

Fire erupted in her pelvis so fierce and sweet, she moaned.

Galvanised by her response, he levered himself off her and stood beside the bed.

Jasmine had never imagined watching a man undress would trigger anything but embarrassment. But watching Reyes shed his clothes became another heady experience. Enthralled, she watched him ease his tuxedo jacket off his broad shoulders before releasing the studs of his shirt. Her mouth watered as his deeply bronzed chest was revealed. Her fingers itched to touch, to explore. Curling them into the covers, she held still and adored his beauty with her eyes.

‘The look in your eyes threatens to unman me, querida,’ he rasped. His fingers went to the button on his trousers.

Embarrassed that she’d done something wrong, Jasmine started to look away.

‘No. Don’t look away,’ he commanded.

Her eyes flew to his. ‘But you said—’

‘Sí, I know, but I hate the thought of being deprived of your attention.’ With an impatient shove, he kicked the rest of his clothes away and stood before her, gloriously, powerfully naked.

Jasmine silently thanked him for giving her permission to look. Because she couldn’t have looked away now if her life depended on it.

He was spectacular! He stepped closer and she watched, fascinated, as the clearly delineated muscles moved beneath his skin.

Her stomach clenched with renewed arousal when he reclined next to her. ‘I want you naked.’

She wanted to find fault with his imperious tone, but Jasmine would’ve been a hypocrite if she didn’t acknowledge that every word that fell from his lips only further increased her excitement. Lending action to his words, he brushed aside her hair, slid one hand under her dress’s thin strap and eased it off her shoulder.

He feasted his eyes on her, scouring every inch of her breasts as if committing them to memory. With a firm tug on her bra, he bared one nipple, a guttural groan rumbling from his chest as he lowered his head and sucked her flesh into his mouth. He teased, he tormented. His fingers traced, paused over a scar on her shoulder, a remnant from her shady past.

She held her breath, her fingers convulsed in his hair, holding him to his task even as she tensed in anticipation of a query. His touch moved on. When he turned his attention to her other breast, Jasmine whimpered in delight and relief.

Dazed, she felt him tug her dress off. Her panties and bra followed, discarded by urgent hands that caressed her skin with masterful strokes.

Wet heat pooled between her legs, a fact Reyes’s exploratory fingers didn’t miss when one possessive hand cupped her feminine core.

Raising his head from her tight, wet nipple, he speared her with a fiery gaze. ‘Maybe I won’t go slow after all. I have to have you now,’ he rasped.

The next few seconds whizzed by in a blur, the sound of the condom wrapper tearing open barely impinging on her heated senses. He gathered her to him before she could draw breath. Placing himself between her thighs, he speared his hands in her hair and angled her face to his.

Eyes the colour of gunmetal held her prisoner.

He thrust inside her fast, hard, then immediately set a blistering pace that stripped her of every thought.

Their coupling was furious. Heady in ways she’d never dreamed sex could be. She screamed as the first, fierce climax hit her. He kissed away her shocked cries, almost greedy in his possession of her mouth, then slowed his pace just long enough for her spasms to ease.

Then he surged to his knees, placed her in front of him and entered her from behind. Guttural, indecipherable Spanish words spilled from him as he thrust over and over inside her, one strong arm clamped around her waist. Her throat clogged with emotion, her heart pounding wildly in her chest as tears gathered in her eyes at the magic she hadn’t come looking for, but had miraculously found.

Reaching up behind her, she clasped his nape, turned her head and met his lips with hers. They stayed like that, their sweat-slicked bodies rocking back and forth until he tensed, a harsh groan rumbling through his chest, followed by convulsions that triggered her second, deeper orgasm.

His arm remained locked around her as he eased them back onto the bed, their harsh breaths gentling. He brushed away the damp hair from her face before placing a gentle kiss on her temple.

‘This wasn’t how I foresaw my evening ending when I arrived at the museum tonight.’

Jasmine tensed, the thought that he could be regretting what happened sending a vein of ice through her chest. Some other-worldly, more experienced woman would’ve found a sophisticated answer to his comment. But no such words rose to her mind, so she clamped her eyes shut and held her breath.

‘Nor mine,’ she murmured.

‘You were amazing,’ he muttered, his tone hushed.

The breath whooshed from her lungs, joy making her lips curve in a smile that seemed to emerge from her very heart. ‘You weren’t so bad, yourself.’

He laughed, a low, husky sound she’d begun to seriously like. With a kiss on her shoulder, he eased himself from her body and stood up.

‘Come.’ Again his tone was more command than request.

Again, Jasmine found she didn’t mind. ‘Where are we going?’

‘I have a sudden need to see your body slick with water.’

He tugged her off the bed and led her into a luxurious shower room. After adjusting various dials and testing the water with his fingers, he turned.

He dropped a kiss at the juncture between her neck and shoulder. With swift, efficient motions he secured her hair on top of her head.

Grasping her shoulders, he walked her into the misty cubicle and proceeded to wring every last ounce of pleasure from her body.

Afterwards, wrapped in a warm, fluffy towel, Jasmine watched Reyes, his lean, masculine body stealing her breath once again.

‘I’m glad I met you tonight.’ The words spilled out before she could stop them.

Their eyes connected, held. ‘I feel the same,’ he said simply. They both looked away at the same time.

In silence he led her back to his bed. And this time, their lovemaking was slow, languid, an unhurried union that brought an alien tightness to her chest and tears to her eyes. Before their heartbeats had slowed, Reyes had fallen asleep.

* * *

The low buzz of her phone woke her. Squinting in the dark, she saw the light from her smartphone illuminate the inside of her small clutch purse. The call could only be from England. And since her boss knew she was on holiday and was unlikely to disturb her, it could only be her parents...or Joaquin.

Her heart jumped into her throat.

Reyes had eased his tight hold of her during the night and now lay on his stomach, his head turned away from her.

Quickly, she slid out of bed and retrieved the phone. Seeing the name displayed on the screen, her heart plummeted. ‘Hello.’

‘Jasmine!’ Her mother’s frantic voice rang in her ears. ‘Where are you? They took him. Oh, God, they broke his arm...and then they took him away!’

Walking on tiptoe to the door, Jasmine slipped out and hurried down the hallway to Reyes’s study. ‘Mum, take a deep breath and tell me what happened,’ Jasmine said, even though deep down she suspected the answer.

‘Some men broke into the house and they took Stephen!’

‘What? When?’

‘About an hour ago. They wouldn’t say where they were going. But they hurt him, Jasmine. What if they...they kill him?’ Her voice broke in a strangled sob.

Ice slithered down Jasmine’s spine. She clutched the phone to her ear to stem the shaking in her hand. ‘It’s okay, Mum. I’m sure they won’t. Did they...what did they say?’ She tried to steady her voice so her mother’s panic didn’t escalate.

‘They left a number...asked me to give it to you to call. Jasmine, I don’t know what I’ll do if anything happens to Stephen— Oh, God!’

Knowing how adversity had affected her mother before Stephen came into their lives, Jasmine clutched the phone harder, unwilling to contemplate the worst. Her earlier bravado began to wither before her eyes.

She took a deep breath. ‘Well, stop worrying.’ Jasmine tried to infuse as much optimism into her voice as she could. ‘Text me the number. I’ll sort this out, I promise.’

Her mother’s teary, panic-laced goodbye wrenched at Jasmine’s heart. Hands shaking, she started to dial the number her mother had sent through when her phone buzzed with another incoming text.

Jasmine read it. Once. Twice. Her fingers went numb.

The message itself was innocuous enough. But the meaning hit her square in the chest.

One hour. Rio Hilton. Room 419. A simple exchange. Good luck.

She returned to the bedroom on leaden feet and froze as Reyes shifted in the bed, exhaled heavily before settling back into deep sleep. Moonlight filtering through the open windows silhouetted him in soft light, his glorious body bare from the waist up. Momentarily, she stared, recalling the way he’d unleashed all that potent power on her, his generosity in showering her with pleasure.

Her insides quivered as harsh reality hit her in the face.

She had no choice.

She’d been willing to abort her despicable mission even if it meant exposing her stepfather’s misdeeds and possible incarceration to the authorities.

But she couldn’t stand by and do nothing while Stephen was being physically harmed. Or worse. She would never be able to live with herself.

As for Reyes...

She bit her lip and forced her gaze from the man lying on the bed.

Numbness invading every atom of her being, Jasmine stealthily pulled her clothes on and went back into the study. Reyes hadn’t had the chance to place the treaty back in the safe.

Insides clenched in shame, she walked to the desk, opened the folder and lifted the heavily embossed papers.

Her hands shook as she lifted the treaty and held it in her hands.

‘I am merely a concerned citizen of Santo Sierra, wishing to reassure myself my crown prince’s actions are altruistic, Miss Nichols. That is all...’

Joaquin’s words reverberated in her head and she clenched her teeth. She might only have known him for a few hours, but Jasmine didn’t doubt that Crown Prince Reyes Navarre cared deeply about his people and held only their best interests at heart.

It was Joaquin’s motives that were highly suspect.

Whatever happened, Jasmine didn’t have any intention of letting the document out of her sight.

Taking a deep breath, she folded the treaty, slipped into the hallway and made her way to the deck to retrieve her shoes. Clutching them to her chest, she made her way down the steps towards the gangplank.

The bodyguard materialised in front of her, large and threatening. His searching eyes stalled her breath.

With every last ounce of strength, she straightened and lifted her chin, all at once ashamed and thankful that her old skills were coming to the fore.

Never show fear, never show fear. ‘Can I get a taxi, please?’ she asked, praying he spoke enough English to understand her request.

For several seconds, he didn’t respond. Finally, he nodded and indicated the exit.

Despite the pre-dawn hour, people and cars rushed past on the road beyond the quay, the post-Carnival Rio nightlife as vibrant as it had been during the festival a month ago. Another set of bodyguards guarded the gangplank and exchanged words with her escort, who shrugged and said something that made the others chuckle. Jasmine tried to remain calm, regulate her breathing as she walked beside him.

Twenty minutes later, she stumbled into the foyer of the Rio Hilton. The night receptionist directed her to the bank of lifts without batting an eyelash.

When she reached the room, Joaquin Esteban’s burly sidekick held the door open for her. She entered. The diminutive man rose from a cream-coloured sofa, his hands outstretched in false greeting. Jasmine sidestepped him, her fists clenched.

‘What did you do with my stepfather?’ she demanded.

Joaquin paused, his hard eyes glittering before his sleazy smile slid back into place. ‘Why, nothing, Miss Nichols. He’s fine and currently enjoying the best hospitality at my home in London until our business is concluded.’

‘You broke his arm!’

‘Ah, that was rather unfortunate. My men merely wanted to make sure everyone understood what moves needed to be made. But he got a little...excited.’

Rage built inside her. ‘So you broke his arm? God, you’re nothing but a thug!’

‘I would caution against name-calling. You were on the prince’s yacht for over five hours. And from the looks of it you weren’t there against your will.’

Her skin crawled. ‘You were having me watched?’

‘I’m very vested in our deal. It’s imperative that you understand that.’ His eyes slid from her face to her handbag, the question in them undeniable.

For a wild second, Jasmine wanted to tell him she’d failed.

She wanted to turn back the clock; to return the treaty, return to the bed and the magnificent, captivating man she’d left in it. A man whose haunted eyes made her yearn to comfort him.

Even now she craved one more look, one more touch...

But it was too late. Defying Joaquin would be condemning her stepfather to a horrific fate.

And yet, she couldn’t just hand the document over.

‘You’re not merely a concerned citizen of Santo Sierra, are you?’

Joaquin shrugged. ‘No. Valderra is my home.’

Her mouth dropped open in shock. What on earth had she got herself into? ‘Why are you doing this?’ she whispered. Just then another possibility dawned, cold and unwelcoming. ‘Do you work for Prince Mendez?’

‘Enough questions. The document, please,’ Joaquin said coldly.

‘No.’ Jasmine shook her head and eyed the door. ‘I won’t give it to you.’

She whirled about and was confronted with the thick wall of muscle in the shape of the bodyguard. His beady eyes narrowed before he snatched the clutch out of her frozen grasp and removed the treaty from it.

Jasmine had been in enough fights to know which ones she stood a chance in and which ones were hopeless.

Joaquin’s eyes glittered as he perused the sheets, before rolling up the document.

‘Thank you, Miss Nichols. I think this concludes our business together.’ He started to turn away.

Sick with self-loathing, she stepped forward. ‘Wait! Please tell me you’ll return the treaty to Prince Reyes before tomorrow?’

‘You don’t need to trouble yourself about that,’ Joaquin answered. ‘I’ll make sure it reaches the right hands.’

Sweat coated her palms. ‘But if the document isn’t returned tonight, Rey...the prince will know I stole it.’

‘And what does that matter? It’s highly unlikely you and the prince will ever cross paths again, is it not? Besides, going on past experience, I wouldn’t have imagined you would be bothered by something as trivial as your reputation,’ he scoffed.

‘I’m not that person any more. I’ve turned my life around.’

‘So you say. But once a thief, always a thief. You reverted to type quite easily.’

Pain frayed the outer edges of her heart. Holding her head high, she stood her ground. ‘I don’t need to prove myself to you.’ Anxiety churned through her stomach. ‘What about Stephen?’

‘He’ll be home for breakfast. Goodbye, Miss Nichols.’ He walked out of the room.

Jasmine wanted to chase after him, rip the document from his hands.

As if guessing her intentions, the bodyguard cleared his throat.

Jasmine didn’t flinch. She’d dealt with brutes like him before, taken down one or two, even. But she knew she wouldn’t win this battle. She’d been damned from the very start.

Nevertheless, the enormity of what she’d done settled like a heavy mantle on her shoulders. Ice flowed through her veins as she clenched her fists.

‘Taxi?’ the bodyguard snarled.

‘No, thank you. I’ll find my own way.’

The first rays of dawn slashed across the sky as Jasmine returned to her hotel. With disjointed movements, she wheeled her suitcase out of the closet and stuffed her belongings into it. Forcing herself not to think, not to feel, she undressed and entered the shower.




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