Melissa James – Too Ordinary for the Duke? (страница 4)
“I’m glad of that, miss,” he replied, with such fervour she laughed again.
“My name’s Mari,” she offered, putting out her hand, hoping to hear his name in return.
After a visible hesitation, he said, “I’m Lysander, miss.”
Though feeling the sting of the untaken hand, Mari felt her brow lift. “So you’re named for the famed general and friend of Cyrus, the conquering prince of Persia. Your parents gave you a lot to live up to,” she said, grinning.
Lysander’s mouth twitched again—then the wooden demeanour returned as he pulled off the road and rolled up smoothly to a guarded gate.
The guard stepped out of the small guardhouse, frowning at Lysander. Lysander produced the Queen’s letter, and after a moment the man nodded and returned inside.
The car moved through the gate, and it closed behind them. The yacht Jazmine had called
Playing wasn’t on the agenda. All she needed to do was to get on board safely, spend a few days there until Mikhail left Hellenia, then she could return to her safe, anonymous life.
“Hurry, oh, please hurry,” she murmured, feeling urgency grab hold of her.
In answer, Lysander murmured quiet words into an intercom-style phone—and she saw the gangplank move and a larger one take its place a level down. It was wide enough for a car … and a dark, gaping hole had opened high up in the yacht.
Lysander drove into the yacht’s hull, and blessed cool darkness filled the car, like a benediction of safety.
“Thank you, Lysander,” she breathed as the hole closed up behind them and she heard the engines start up. “Please, let’s take off—push off—whatever it is boats do.”
She heard a choked-off sound as he opened his door and came around to open hers. In the darkness, his face glowed in the subdued lighting of the limo—and she saw he was laughing. It didn’t matter if his lips were under total control, his dimples danced, just as his eyes did—and the combination fascinated her. “Aye, aye, Miss Mari. I’ll go to the Captain right away and convey your orders to him.”
She felt intense relief fill her. “So you’re coming with me?” And she was
His eyes darkened as the laughter died. “The Queen’s letter makes it perfectly clear—I’m to look after you.” The slight bow of his head was touched with respect and filled with irony. “So until my orders change, Miss Mitsialos, your wish is my command.”
CHAPTER THREE
SANDER wasn’t sure he liked that speculative, wistful gleam in Mari’s milk-chocolate eyes. He felt like the genie must have when telling Aladdin he had three wishes … and, judging by the way she kept looking at him, brimming and overflowing with innocent fascination, he couldn’t help but know what one wish would be.
He hadn’t seen a woman look at him with such honest admiration and shy appraisal since he’d become Duke. Yes, women had found him attractive since he’d shot up past the six-foot mark when he was fifteen, but the way Mari blushed when she looked and smiled at him, and when she looked away, and the light in those sweet, dreaming eyes …
But the only kind of women he’d bothered with over the past ten years played the game, and it was glaringly obvious Mari was a straight-shooter, a nice girl to take home to Mother … if only Mother didn’t expect her to have a heralded pedigree.
He forced himself to remain expressionless as he handed her out of the limo. “Would you come up on deck for a few moments while I give orders to the Captain, miss? Then I’ll see you to the Stateroom.”
The dreaming fantasy in her eyes vanished as if he’d smacked her. “The …? Isn’t that the room reserved for royalty?”
Amused by her wide-eyed near-shock, he nodded. “That’s right, miss.”
Expecting her to breathe a few words of ecstatic agreement, he was taken aback when she said, “But that belongs to Charlie and Jazmine.”
Touched by her anxiety to do the right thing, when most of the women he knew would probably have shoved him to the ground in their race to sleep in the King’s bed, he showed her Jazmine’s note. He hoped she didn’t notice that he was carefully covering the
Mari read the note, eyes still wide, but then she shook her head. “It’s so nice of Jazmine to offer, but I’ll be more than happy in one of the guestrooms. Just so long as we push off soon,” she added with an endearing nervous nibble at her lip and a glance around the darkened cargo hold, as if expecting Mikhail to pop out of a shadowy corner any second.
Knowing that tone well—his mother spoke just like that when she was determined to have her way—Sander didn’t bother arguing as he lifted her bags out of the trunk. He’d just put her bags in the Stateroom, and let her awe and pride do the rest. “Ready?” He was surprised to find he was enjoying the novel experience of playing employee to a commoner.
She nodded. “Definitely. The sooner the better.” She headed for the lit door marked Exit in a form of Koi Greek rare outside of Hellenia, but close enough to read.
He only realised then that Mari had been speaking Hellenican Greek the whole time—and so had he. It had been that easy with her, so natural he hadn’t noticed.
Alarm bells went off in his head. What was it about Mari that drew princes and dukes to her like compasses to the north, when she wasn’t even trying?
An hour later, Mari stood on the deck of the yacht, watching the harbour recede from view. Her sigh was heartfelt when she saw no yacht or chopper racing to catch them.
A soft tingling at her neck told her Lysander was nearby, watching her.
How she knew, she had no idea. He had that effect on her; all the denial in the world wouldn’t change it. She found him—well, gorgeous. It didn’t mean anything would happen.
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