His Bride for the Taking Read Free Page A

couldn’t define.
    He now also knew Tall and Brawny’s role. Bodyguard. What he didn’t know was what the hell she was doing here and, more important, what he should do about it. Did he leave her or get her out of here? She wasn’t his responsibility. Yet. And chances were she’d get through the evening without a scandal.
    Another of Red Shirt’s group staggered her way.
    Rafe flicked a glance at her partner, saw recognition of him dawn in Tall and Brawny’s eyes. He signaledwith a tilt of his head for the bodyguard to take care of Alexia’s next would-be dance partner. The larger man nodded and stepped aside.

Two
    T rying not to clench his jaw, Rafe watched Alexia dance. This woman who moved so sinuously and sensuously, lost in the music, was not the same bland woman who’d sat demurely through dinner.
    She was playing some kind of game with them all.
    He had no time for women who played games, women who pretended to be one thing when they were something else altogether. He was still dealing with the fallout from his last encounter with such a woman.
    He was standing, arms folded, when Alexia finally opened her eyes. Her gaze alighted first on his chest, then snapped to his face. He caught the flash of horror, watched the horror schooled into a bright, false smile. “Sorry, I don’t dance with other men.” As if she mightstill get away with it. Without waiting for his response, she turned and slipped into the swirling crowd.
    She didn’t get far. He caught up with her at the edge of the dance floor as she tried to get past a cluster of tipsy women, one of them wearing a bridal veil, all of them shrieking with laughter.
    He stilled Alexia with a hand on her slender, heated shoulder.
    She spun around. “Go away,” she said with a force that surprised him.
    He’d lowered his hand as she turned, sliding it down the skin of her arm so that it now cupped her elbow. He leaned closer so she’d hear him over the music. “No.” She stiffened at his refusal. “You’re asking for trouble being in this place. My responsibility is to get you safely back to my country. The demure Alexia Wyndham Jones whom the people will love. Possibly their future princess. Someone they can look up to, bearing in mind that they’re more conservative than you Americans. Not someone who dresses like, like…”
    He faltered under the indignant heat of her gaze.
    “Like what?” Her hands went to her hips, shaking off his touch. A mutinous expression tightened her lips. In truth there was nothing anyone could object to in what she was wearing. Anyone, apparently, except him. He couldn’t put his finger on just what it was that bothered him. But it did bother him, and that was good enough for him. “Surely you don’t need me to spell it out for you?” Damn, he sounded like his father. Master of the guilt trip.
    Sudden resignation sagged through her body, andhe almost felt bad for it. After all, he’d been known on more than one occasion to skip out on official duties to have a little fun. And he knew what it was like to get busted.
    But that was different.
    Alexia was only twenty-two, and as well as being an heiress to millions, she might one day sit on the throne beside his brother. From what he knew of her, she’d led a cloistered existence. There was no end of trouble she could get into here. Very public trouble. The world was too full of predators, the press too greedy for gossip. Part of the reason her candidacy as a partner for Adam had been approved was her perceived innocence. Rafe glanced at the bodyguard hovering near her side. “Alexia and I need to have a little chat. A private chat.”
    The bodyguard looked at Alexia, she lifted her shoulders in a shrug. “It’s okay, Mario. I may as well get this over with.”
    As the bodyguard moved a little farther off, Rafe leaned closer. “What exactly are you doing here?”
    “Pardon?”
    She’d heard him; she was just looking to delay answering, subtly challenging his