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A Proposal From The Crown Prince. Jessica Gilmore
Читать онлайн.Название A Proposal From The Crown Prince
Год выпуска 0
isbn 9781474060134
Автор произведения Jessica Gilmore
Жанр Современные любовные романы
Издательство HarperCollins
She jumped as the bell tolled solemnly. Who could that be? The house had been empty since Immi left a month ago and no one apart from her family knew she was here.
She didn’t have to answer it. If she stayed quiet they would probably just go away.
The bell tolled again, low and commanding. ‘Don’t be such a coward,’ she scolded herself. After all Imogen’s fiancé, Matt, had lived on the island for several years. It would be just like Immi to get a friend of Matt’s to check up on her. She knew her sisters were worried about her decision to move into her money pit of an inheritance, to leave London, to quit her hard-fought-for career; of course they’d send in an intervention.
Well, the intervention could just intervene right out. She was fine. Almost.
The bell tolled for a third time as she moved briskly through the hall, a room large enough to hold a ball in if the conservatory was otherwise engaged, and she wrenched open the front door, indignation buzzing through her veins. ‘Hold your horses. I’m here. Oh!’
Her hand tightened on the door. ‘Nico?’
She wasn’t sure at first. The expression in the blue eyes was a mixture of surprise and determination, the dark hair slicked back, the broad shoulders and narrow waist covered by a perfectly cut light suit. But her body knew him instantly, every pulse beating rapidly as he looked straight at her.
‘Hello, Posy.’
Any thought he might have come looking for her, that this was the start of the kind of whirlwind romance she’d read about but never experienced, evaporated in the late morning sun. There was no flirtatiousness in his voice, no seduction in his eyes. Whatever Nico wanted here it didn’t include a re-enactment of last night.
That was fine. She didn’t expect anything else. Hoped maybe, in that first flare of surprise, that he might be pleased to see her but two could play at the ‘polite strangers’ game. She forced her hand to relax, her face to remain still, her highly trained muscles obeying in instant precision. ‘How can I help?’
‘I’m looking for Rosalind Marlowe. Is she here?’
‘You’re talking to her. I’m Rosalind,’ she clarified as his forehead crinkled. ‘Rosalind shortened to Rosy, my family called me Rosy-Posy and then when I started to dance, they kind of lost the Rosy in a Ballet Shoes Posy Fossil way.’ She was babbling. Great. ‘Not that that matters. What do you want?’
The mask had slipped a little; Nico was looking uncomfortable. ‘Can I come in?’
‘I don’t know,’ she said honestly. ‘I didn’t expect to see you again after last night and now here you are looking for me but not knowing it’s me. I don’t want someone who makes me uncomfortable in my house. So probably not. Whatever you want to say to me you can say right here.’
* * *
Nico narrowed his eyes. Two minutes in and already this whole situation was slipping dangerously out of control. It was his own fault. He should have heeded the warning bells clanging loudly the instant his grandmother mentioned that the villa had passed to an Englishwoman. There was a reason Posy had sprung straight into his mind. She was the logical choice, appearing on the beach the way she had last night, her conviction that he was trespassing, her surety that she was safe to swim naked—but the difference in name had allowed him to ignore his premonition. Big mistake.
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