Lessons in Seduction

But it was clearly time for some of the honesty he’d said he trusted her to voice. “Nobody wears a suit and tie to a jazz festival.”

“I do.”

“Not tonight. This is not a state dinner.” She held out her upturned palm. “Hand over the tie.” For a moment Danni thought he might refuse. “You want my help?”

Gritting his teeth, he loosened his tie and slid it from around his neck. He dropped the strip of fabric into her hand. “Satisfied?”

She closed her fingers around the warm silk. “No.”

“No?”

“The top button.” She nodded at the neck of his shirt.

His lips pressed together but he reached up, undid the button then dropped his hand and looked at her patiently. Obviously waiting for her approval. But he still didn’t look quite right. He still looked tense and formal. A little fierce almost.

“And the next one.”

He opened his mouth, about to protest, she was certain, then closed it again and slowly undid the second button.

“Much better,” she said. “Just that extra button makes you look far more relaxed, almost casual. In a good way,” she added before he could object. She wanted to tousle his hair, mess it up just a little but knew that tousled hair would be a step too far for Adam. Tonight anyway. Maybe they could work on that. She settled for reaching up and spreading his collar a little wider. “See, this vee of chest?” She pointed at what she meant, at what riveted her gaze. “Women like that. It’s very appealing.”

“It is?”

“Definitely. And you smell really good. That’s always a bonus.” She was close enough to know. Without thinking she closed her eyes and inhaled. And the image of a shirtless Adam—branded in her memory—came back. The image had lurked there since the incident that had gotten her banned from driving. Her shortcut, the potholes, the spilling of his coffee that had required him to change his shirt in the back of the limo. Oh, yes. She’d seen him shirtless then. An unthinking glimpse in the rearview mirror of a broad contoured torso and sculpted abs. More than appealing. A fleeting moment of stunned and heated eye contact. It was a sight that had left her breathless and slightly dazed and slipped into her dreams. His banning her after that episode had almost been a relief.

She opened her eyes now to find him studying her, curiosity in his gaze and something like confusion. Despite the cool night Danni felt suddenly warmer. This new role was an adjustment for both of them. The normal boundaries of protocol and etiquette had blurred—they had to—but it left her floundering. Maybe she ought not to have admitted with such enthusiasm that his chest was appealing or that he smelled good. But surely if she was going to criticize and point out where she thought he went wrong, then she also needed to point out where she thought he went right.

She reached for his door, opened it wide.

She slipped his tie into her pocket, stepped back and gestured to the open door. “Let’s go find your princess.”

An hour later boredom was setting in. Just another reason, she reminded herself, why she’d never have made a good chauffeur. No matter how much her father would have liked it for her.

Danni fiddled with the radio again, adjusted her seat and her mirrors, and then leaned over and opened the glove compartment. A white card stood propped up inside. Definitely not regulation. Frowning, she pulled out the card. Across the front in strong sloping letters it read, “Just in case.” Behind the card sat a white cardboard box. Curious, Danni pulled it out and opened it. Neatly arranged inside was a selection of gourmet snacks.

The thoughtfulness of the gesture had her grinning and taking back any uncharitable thoughts she’d ever had about Adam.

Another hour passed, during which Danni snacked and read, before Adam and his date walked out of the restaurant. Was that a hint of a stagger to the fashion-model-slender Anna’s gait as she laughed and leaned against Adam? Perhaps having so little body fat meant she was just cold and needed to absorb some of his heat.

But the impression Danni got was that there had been no shortage of the champagne that they’d started—at her suggestion—on the way to the restaurant.

Anna somehow managed to stay plastered to Adam as they got into the backseat. At a nod from him—and a brief moment of eye contact, Danni drove off.

At the first set of traffic lights, she glanced in the mirror. And then just as quickly looked away.

Anna apparently had no need for eye contact or poetry. Maybe there had been enough of that in the riverside restaurant. She had undone more of Adam’s buttons and had slid her hand into the opening. It certainly didn’t appear that anyone was cold anymore. The screen between them blocked out most sound but Danni could hear Anna’s laughter, throaty and, Danni supposed, sexy. Some men might like it. Some men apparently being Adam.

She thought of the tie still in her pocket and knew that there was something wrong with her because she wanted to pass it back to him and tell him to put it on. But really, carrying on like that, it was undignified. Then again, it was the sort of thing she’d once expected from Rafe, and never thought it was undignified in his case. But the two brothers were different. They always had been. Adam was all about barriers. And the way the woman in the back had bypassed them didn’t seem right.

Danni’s only consolation was that it looked like her work here was done. He’d been deluding himself if he’d thought he needed her help and she’d been deluding herself if she’d thought she had any to offer. He didn’t need help at all. Anna was doing all the work. And they were both clearly enjoying themselves while she did it. Danni would be able to go home and forget all about Adam Marconi and his search for the right woman.

Her grip on the wheel tight and her jaw even tighter, Danni pulled to a stop in front of Anna’s apartment building. And maybe, just maybe, her stop wasn’t quite as gentle as it ought to have been.

The couple in the backseat drew apart. Anna trailed her long red fingernails down the front of Adam’s shirt. The green-and-gold-uniformed doorman stepped forward to open the car door and the couple got out, Anna still managing to drape herself over Adam. Danni wasn’t sure if she was whispering into Adam’s ear or trying to eat it. It looked like the latter. Danni rubbed at her own ear in sympathy.

Not wanting to watch her passengers walk to the doorway of Anna’s building—public displays of affection held no appeal—she retrieved her book and reclined her seat. She hadn’t even found her page when Adam reappeared and slid into the backseat.

“The palace,” he said, the words terse. He lowered the privacy screen but said nothing more as she drove through the city and out toward the palace estates. She chanced the occasional glance at him in the mirror. He hadn’t fallen asleep though there was a definite weariness about his eyes as he watched the city slide by.

She knew something of his schedule and so she knew that the days and evenings of the previous week had been hectic and full, meetings after functions after openings and launches.

She eased to a careful stop in front of his wing of the palace and met his gaze in the mirror.

“Better,” he said.

“Better? Your date?”

“No. The date was decidedly worse. I meant your stopping. Compared to the one in front of Anna’s apartment.”

Ahh. “I apologize for that. My foot slipped.”

“Thank you.”

For apologizing or for her foot slipping in the first place? She wasn’t going to ask. By the time she’d walked around the back of the car, he’d opened his door and stood. His gaze slid over her from head to toe.

Usually she was good at the whole calm, stoic thing but Danni fought the urge to squirm under his scrutiny, having no idea what he thought when he looked at her. Or maybe it was just the cold making her want to fidget. It was freezing out here tonight. Cold enough for snow.

Her gaze flicked to Adam’s shirtfront, still largely unbuttoned. Frowning, as though only just remembering that they were undone, he reached for the lower buttons and slowly did them up. The movement of his fingers held her mesmerized.

It wasn’t till he was finished that she remembered what she needed to say. “Thank you, too,” she said. “For the food.”

“It was no trouble.”

And it wouldn’t have been. Someone else would have prepared the food and another person would have put it in the car. But it was Adam who’d had the idea and she was still oddly touched by it.

He slid his hands into his pockets and tilted his head toward the palace. “Come in.”

“To the palace?”

“Where else? I don’t want to talk about the date out here.”

Danni looked around. Assorted staff members stood discreet distances away, always at the ready. If she insisted on staying out here she’d only make everyone colder. Besides, she’d been into the palace before. Many times in fact, though not in the last few years. This should be no different. So she shrugged and walked with Adam, went through the door held open by a staff member she didn’t recognize. As Adam led her up a flight of stairs and along a corridor hung with gilt-framed portraits, she realized where they were going.

He opened the door to the library. The room, with its floor-to-ceiling shelves of leather-bound books, and armchairs big enough to curl up in, had been her favorite when she was younger. The chess set they used to play on was still here too, nestled in a corner by a window.

Despite the fact that the room had been designed to be restful, Danni was far from relaxed. It had been years since she was last here and in that time her ease in Adam’s company and her confidence in their simple friendship had vanished.

In the car she was in charge, of the car at least. Her father’s gatehouse was her territory, too, and outside was … outside. A place of freedom. But here, inside the palace, where everything was governed by rules not of her making and many of them outside of her awareness, standing with the heir apparent, she was out of her depth and well out of her comfort zone.

She walked to a side table and set her cap on it then slowly peeled off her gloves, feeling oddly vulnerable without the protection her uniform afforded her. A protection that said this is who I am and this is who you are. We’re people defined by our roles. But now, as she raked a hand through her hair, she was just Danni and he was Adam. There could never be a just in front of his name unless it was used in its opposite meaning. He was just gorgeous. Serious, but gorgeous with those dark eyes that seemed always to be watching and thinking.

Even without the props of her uniform, she knew she had to keep focused on her reason for being here—which had nothing to do with Adam’s eyes. Although maybe the eyes had helped sway her, subliminally at least. “So, your date?”

“Let’s wait till after dessert.”

“Dessert?”

She turned at the sound of a tap on the door. A footman walked in carrying a tray, set it on the low table between two armchairs and then left.

Danni glanced from the tray to Adam.

“I thought you might be hungry.”

“Not that hungry!” She looked at the twin slices of cheesecake and the two mugs of cream-topped hot chocolate.

He smiled his first smile of the evening. “It’s not all for you.”

“But you’ve just eaten.”

He shook his head. “Anna was a salad-only type of woman. No carbohydrates. No dressing. I was hardly going to eat dessert while she’d scarcely touched a thing. As it was, her pushing her lettuce around her plate all evening almost put me off my linguine. And I love linguine. So aside from it being bad manners, I was in no hurry to prolong the evening. By the time the waiter asked if we wanted to order dessert, the future chances for a relationship were crystal clear.”

“You’ve already fed me once tonight.” Her mouth watered even as she pretended that she wasn’t hungry.

“It was a long evening and that was just a snack. And unless things have changed drastically from when you were younger, you have—let’s call it a healthy appetite and a sweet tooth. And cheesecake was a particular favorite.” He watched her. “Have things changed?”

A grin tugged at her lips and her gaze strayed back to the cheesecake. “Apparently not all that much.”

He picked up the two bowls. “Sit down then.”

Once she was settled in an armchair he passed her a bowl and took the opposite chair.

Danni bit into the tart velvety cheesecake and her eyes almost rolled back in her head in ecstasy while she savored the delight. “Charlebury’s still chef?” she asked once she’d opened her eyes again.

Adam laughed. “Yes.”

For the next few minutes they ate in appreciative silence. Finally, sated and the dessert finished, Danni set down her bowl.

“Not licking it?” Adam asked, teasing in his tone.

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