Penny Jordan Tribute Collection. PENNY JORDAN

when carrying her child, she looked a picture of innocent vulnerability. But of course she was no such thing! And dressing the baby in an outfit obviously chosen to match hers seemed to proclaim their mother and baby status to the world.

      Unaware of the fact that Nemesis and all the Furies were about to bear down on her with grim zeal in the shape of a very angry and disapproving male, Mariella shifted Fleur’s weight in her arm.

      ‘Very fetching! Trust you to be here, and with the very latest European accessory—I have to tell you, though, that you’ve misjudged its effect in Zuran!’

      ‘Xavier!’ Mariella felt her legs wobble treacherously in her high heels as she stared at him in shock.

      ‘I don’t know how you managed to get past the security staff—although I suspect I can guess how!’ he told her cynically. ‘Kept women and those who sell their favours to the highest bidder are normally kept out of such events.’

      Kept women! His condemnation stung not just her pride, but her sense of sisterly protection for Tanya. She knew that if this conversation were to continue, she would have to explain she was not Fleur’s mother, but right now she was due in the pavilion for breakfast. She was here on business and she would not jeopardise the commission by having an argument with Xavier in front of the prince! ‘I refuse to speak with you if you are going to be so rude,’ she said tersely. ‘Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must go and join the others.’ A flash of light to her left made her gasp as she realised a photographer had just caught the two of them on camera!

      ‘Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing here,’ Xavier told her challengingly. ‘You know that Khalid is going to come to his senses and realise just what you are, and you’re looking for someone to take his place, and finance you.’

      ‘Finance her!’ The feathers nestling in the swathes of chiffon on Mariella’s hat trembled as she shook with outrage.

      ‘For your information, I do not need anyone to finance me, as you put it. I am completely financially independent.’ As she saw his expression Mariella turned on her heel.

      Hurrying away from him, she tensed as she suddenly felt a touch on her arm, but when she looked round it was only the prince’s assistant.

      ‘The Prince would like you to join his table for breakfast, Miss Sutton.’ he told her. ‘If I may escort you first to the crèche,’ he added tactfully.

      Angrily Xavier watched as the crowd swallowed her up. How dared she lie to him and claim to be financially independent, especially when she knew he knew the truth about her?

      She was the most scheming and deceitful woman he had ever met, a woman he was a total fool to spare the smallest thought for!

      The conversation around the breakfast table was certainly very cosmopolitan, Mariella decided as she listened to two other women discussing the world’s best spa resorts, whilst the men debated the various merits of differing bloodstock.

      After the breakfast was over and people were beginning to drift away, the prince came over to Mariella.

      ‘My assistant will telephone you to make formal arrangements for us to discuss my commission,’ he told her.

      ‘I was wondering if it would be possible for me to visit your new enclosure?’ Mariella asked him. ‘Or, failing that, perhaps see some plans?’

      She had the beginnings of a vague idea which, if the prince approved, would be innovative, but first she needed to see the enclosure to see if it would work.

      ‘Certainly. I shall see that it is arranged.’

      As he escorted her outside Mariella saw Xavier standing several yards away, her face beginning to burn as he looked at the prince and then allowed his glance to drift with slow and deliberate insolence over her, assessing her as though… as though she were a piece of… of flesh he was contemplating buying, Mariella recognised.

      ‘Highness!’

      ‘Xavier.’ As the two men exchanged greetings Mariella turned to leave, but somehow Xavier had moved and was blocking her way.

      ‘I see that you do not have Fleur with you!’

      ‘No,’ Mariella agreed coldly. ‘She is in the crèche. I am just on my way to collect her.’

      ‘You know Miss Sutton, Xavier? I hadn’t realised. I am about to avail myself of her exceptional services, and she has promised me something extremely innovative.’

      Mariella winced as she recognised from his expression just what interpretation Xavier had put on the prince’s remarks. Excusing herself, she managed to push her way past Xavier, but to her consternation he only allowed her to take a few steps into the shadows cast by one of the pavilions before catching up with her and taking hold of her arm.

      ‘My word, but you are a witch! The prince is renowned for his devotion to his wife and yet he speaks openly of entering a relationship with you!’

      Mariella did not dignify that with an answer. Instead she bared her teeth at him in a savage little smile as she told him sweetly, ‘There, you see, you need not have gone to all that trouble to protect your cousin. There is no need for you to go running to him now to tell him all about your sordid and appalling behaviour towards me. After all, once he gets to hear about the fact that the prince is paying for my… expertise…’

      ‘You dare to boast openly about it?’ Xavier was gripping her with both hands now, his fingers digging into the vulnerable flesh of her upper arms.

      To her own surprise Mariella discovered that winding Xavier up was great fun and she was actually enjoying herself.

      ‘Why shouldn’t I?’ she taunted him. ‘I am proud of the fact that my skills are so recognised and highly thought of, and that I am able to earn a very respectable living for myself by employing them!’

      As his fingers bit even harder into her arms she viewed the ominous white line around his mouth with a dangerous sense of reckless euphoria.

      ‘In fact, in some circles I have already made quite a name for myself.’

      She had gone too far, Mariella realised as her euphoria was suddenly replaced with apprehension.

      ‘You are proud of being known as a high-class whore? Personally I would have classed you merely as an expensive one!’

      Mariella was just about to slap him when he said, ‘If you strike me here you could well end up in prison, whereas if I do this…’

      She gasped as he bent his head and subjected her to a savagely demanding kiss, arching her whole body back as she fought not to come into contact with his, and lost that fight. In the shadows of the pavilion he used his physical strength to show her what she already knew—that despite his rage and contempt he was physically aroused by her! Just as she was by him?

      He released her so abruptly that she almost stumbled. As he turned away from her he reached into his robe and removed a wallet, opening it to throw down some money.

      White-faced, Mariella stared at him. Deep down inside herself she knew that she had deliberately incited and goaded him, but not for this.

      ‘Pick it up!’ he told her savagely.

      Mariella took a deep breath and gathered what was left of her dignity around her. ‘Very well,’ she agreed calmly. ‘I am sure the charity will be grateful for it, Xavier. I understand it helps to support abandoned children.’

      She prayed that he would think the glitter in her eyes was caused by her contempt and not by her tears.

      Silently Xavier watched her go. His own behaviour had shocked him but he was too stubbornly proud to admit it—and even more stubbornly determined not to acknowledge what had actually caused it.

      How could he admit to jealousy over the favours of such a woman? How could he acknowledge that his own desire to possess her went far, far beyond the physical desire for just her body? He could not and he did not