“You are the least sane person I’ve had themisfortune to meet.”The corners of her eyes pinched a little, just for thebarest second, then cleared. “Well, there are plentymore people for you to meet, Mr. Merrick, so do notgive up hope yet.” But the tone of her voice was fartoo cheerful.He watched her for a moment. Watched as herface cleared of anything remotely hurt or upset. “Doyou object to being called insane or my saying that Ihad the misfortune of meeting you?”“Neither, of course.”He drummed his finger on the desk, irritated and,God, how did people live feeling guilty about things?“You are just fine as you are,” he said gruffly.Her expression froze for a moment, then bloomedinto a smile that would slay demons.”
“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.”
“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.”
“Good morning.” His lips quirked. “I nearly expired from old age, waiting to see if you would actuallyknock on the damn thing. My heart couldn’t take it any longer.”She lifted her chin and stepped inside, brushing past him as she did so. “So you are saying that if only Ihad had a few beats more, I would finally have been rid of you?”She caught his lazy grin as she passed. “I plan to haunt you even in the afterlife,” he whispered, the air ofhis words brushing her ear, the door engaging behind her.”
“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?”
“That if he were killed in the next few weeks, it would assuredly be near her. At her feet, in her bed. Inside of her.Unfortunately, that last thought just made him think that if he had to choose his final moments, beinginside Charlotte would really be the way to go.”
“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.”