“I want to know who she is particularly close toamong the staff here.” Who is besotted with her. Hell,they probably all were. Except Donald, who rarelybroke his stoic façade. And Andreas. “And whatquestions she asks.”Donald inclined his head, hair slipping a fractionmore. “It will be done.” He watched Andreas for amoment. “And she and her family will be safe here,”he said, gaze steady, eyes just an extra bit bright.Andreas nodded sharply back, dismissed himquickly, all while trying to hold back the curseslayering his tongue at the words that were both saidand unsaid. Donald was infected too.Goddamn biscuits.”

“Oh!” This was said brightly, as if she was happy he had noticed. “I decided I needed my own workspace, instead of constantly infringing upon yours. So I had a few of the boys move a desk in here.”He stared at the petite, feminine, desk that was pushed against his. And wondered how the bloody hell she had managed to convince men who were terrified of him to move the desk inside his domain.“Absolutely not.” ***Two hours later, he was still scowling as she happily worked on . . . whatever the hell it was she was working on. Across from him. At her desk. How the hell . . .He remembered saying no. He remembered cursing. Threatening her unborn children. Then there was a sort of hazy period of smiles and calm words. Then she had touched the back of his hand with her naked fingers.And now, here he was with . . . her desk . . . pressed to his—surreptitiously watching her scratch her paper, the tip of her tongue poking from the side of her mouth as she worked.”

“His quick eyes seemed to miss nothing, and she couldn’t hide themotion of her fingers squeezing the fabric of her skirts. His gaze rose back to her face, lingering on herlips, then meeting her eyes. Even giving away her nerves with the telltale sign of her pinched fingers, sherefused to look away.“Andreas, I think I’ve fallen in love.”“Roman.” There was a wealth of unspoken meaning in that one word, so darkly uttered. But Roman’stoo-beautiful mouth crooked, head cocked, eyes watching.”

“Her jaw dropped. "You - you -"He chuckled and winked at her. Her ire evaporated like the steam from the pot--coiling and disappearing into the air. When he used his wiles on her, he was tantalizing. With that purely happy look on his face he was devastating."You do realize that I will have my revenge?" she said calmly, though her heart was racing. "I could hope for no less." He flashed her a grin, and she gripped the side of the table to keep from moving closer."I dislike you.""Always a comfort to know." He looked at the kitchen clock, a small mantel piece positioned precariously on a shelf. "Right on time for the night."She blinked. She supposed it was something of a nightly ritual. "Wouldn't want to disappoint you, your highness.""Your majesty, if you will.”

“She gifted him with that soft smile. And it did thatstrange thing to his insides. He would probably leada revolt against the king if she asked him to do itwhile wearing that smile.”

“How do you define difficult?”“By your presence.”She grinned fully, delighted to feel the tensiondissipate. “Now you are just flattering me for noreason.”He grunted.“On the contrary,” she said, as if his grunt hadbeen a worded response. “It was most flattering.”He stared at her.“What? Did you think I wouldn’t figure out how tointerpret your grunts?”

“She leaned down, a fraction closer, and for somereason unknown to man, he lifted his head the tiniestbit. Enough so she could brush his cheek with herlips. “Good night, Mr. Merrick.”