Affairs of State. Jennifer Lewis

that the rest of my life will be lived in a spotlight.” She hadn’t tensed. She was teasing him.

      He shrugged. “Who knows? Maybe the president will get voted out of office in three years and everyone will forget all about you.”

      “Hey, that’s my dad you’re talking about!”

      He laughed. “See? You feel attached to him already.”

      “I admit I have been thinking a lot about meeting him, and my mother. I’m nervous, though.”

      He shrugged. “What have you got to lose?”

      “What if I hate them?”

      A smile tugged at his mouth. “Then you hate them. That’s hardly worse than not knowing them at all.”

      “I wonder.” She inhaled deeply, and started walking across the lawn. He kept pace with her, trying to tug his eyes from the seductive swishing movement of her slim hips beneath her dress. She swung suddenly to face him. “What if I adore them and they don’t like me?”

      “That’ll never happen.”

      “How do you know?”

      “Because you’re the kind of daughter any parent would be thrilled to have. The universe seems to be pushing them toward you. Take a chance, live dangerously.”

      “That sounds like your kind of motto rather than mine.” She touched the delicate red petal of a hibiscus in a tall clay pot. “My life is spent reducing the chances that something can go wrong and trying to be as cautious and well prepared as possible. I suppose that is an occupational hazard.”

      “Time for a change, then.” He said it softly. She was so afraid of stepping outside the boundaries of the life she’d made for herself. Too worried about her reputation and the media and what the future might hold. He’d like to shift her focus to much more interesting things like the feel of their lips touching or their hands on each others’ skin.

      The urge to kiss her was growing stronger each second. He wasn’t quite sure what would have happened if it wasn’t for all the discipline he’d developed during his royal upbringing and honed in his army training. Even her thoughtful gaze was driving him half mad.

      But the way she’d leaped away from him like he’d stung her warned him to slow right down. He’d have to go very slowly and carefully with Ariella.

      “Maybe you’re right.” Her words surprised him.

      “You’re going to meet them?”

      “I’m scheduled to have a televised ‘reunion’ with my father on ANS, but I’m not as sure about my mother. She’s in a trickier position than me, really. My mom abandoned me and failed to tell the man who fathered me that I existed. She has good reason to stay hidden in some ways.” Her eyes flashed with emotion. “I’m sure a lot of people would criticize her choices, regardless of why she made them.”

      She inhaled, that mysterious expression in her eyes growing deeper. “And my father didn’t even know he was a father. He’s been rolling merrily through life with no ties and no responsibilities except to his constituents and his country, and now he’s discovered that he had a child all along but he’s missed the whole experience. I’d be pretty cheesed off if I was him.”

      “I wonder if they loved each other.” He still wasn’t entirely sure his own parents had. There were so many forces rushing them together, only to tear them apart again.

      “All the salacious media stories made it sound like they did. Puppy love.”

      “Perhaps you can bring them back together?”

      “You’re worse than the National Enquirer! Either that or you’re a hopeless romantic.”

      “I suspect it’s the latter.”

      She lifted her chin, watching him. Probably deciding that his professed romanticism was simply a cunning ploy to get up her skirt. His unfortunate reputation as a ladies’ man sometimes preceded him. “How come you’re not in a relationship? Your brother dated the same woman his entire adult life and now they’re married.”

      He shrugged. “I haven’t been as lucky as him.”

      “Or maybe you’ve just been too busy scaling mountains.” She lifted one of her delicate dark brows.

      He chuckled. “That, too. There aren’t too many lovely, intelligent women at the top of mountains.”

      “Obviously you’ve been scaling the wrong ones.” She turned and strode off again, but this time her movement had a teasing air. She wanted him to follow her, and knew that he would.

      The level of desire in his blood climbed a few notches. He followed her into a square herb garden, with gravel paths bisecting geometrical beds of fragrant lavender and sage and oregano. She bent over a tall rosemary plant and buried her nose in its needles.

      Of course his attention snapped immediately to the way her dress hugged the delicious curve of her behind and the graceful way she stood on one leg and extended the other slightly behind her as she leaned forward.

      Alarm bells were ringing in his head. Sexual attraction was usually accompanied by danger of some sort. Every girl he even pecked on the cheek was immediately investigated by the media as a future princess. There was no question of having sex with them unless the utmost secrecy was maintained. His military background helped in matters of subterfuge, but the fact remained that usually when he wanted to kiss—or sleep with—a beautiful and intriguing woman, he had to tell himself no.

      On the rare occasions when the stars aligned and he managed to secure total privacy, the moment was loaded and often quite magical. He’d even managed several actual relationships over the years, and had had the good luck to adore women who’d proved utterly discreet.

      And here he was again, at the moment where he knew exactly what he wanted to do—climb every mountain in order to kiss Ariella Winthrop.

      It was never as easy as that.

      “You look more relaxed.” Her entire demeanor had softened.

      She looked up at him with a flirtatious sparkle in her eye. “I feel much better. I’m not sure why.”

      “Talking to me, of course. And breathing some fresh air doesn’t hurt, either. You should come visit Whist Castle. It’s my home in England where I go to get away from it all.” And the perfect location for a secluded tryst.

      Her eyes widened. “Oh, no. I couldn’t.” Then she laughed. “Of course. You’re just being polite. People do tell me I take everything too seriously.”

      “I most certainly was not being polite. It would give us plenty of time to plan the fund-raiser for World Connect. In fact I might have to insist.”

      “And how exactly will you do that?” She crossed her arms over her chest. Which drew attention to the way her nipples pushed against the soft fabric of her dress.

      “Perhaps I’ll have the palace guards bundle you into a plane. It’s primitive and high-tech at the same time.”

      “That may work in Europe, but you can’t just shove American citizens into planes. We’ve started wars with less provocation than that.” A smile danced around the corners of her mouth.

      He pressed a finger to his lips. “Hmm. I suppose you’re right. And you are the daughter of the president. I’ll have to resort to more cunning means. A hand-engraved invitation, perhaps.”

      “I’m afraid I’m the queen of hand-engraved invitations. I’ve probably stuffed more than a million of those into envelopes at this point. You’ll need a lot more than that to impress me.”

      He stepped forward, uncrossed her arms and took one of her hands. Her fingers were cool, but heated inside his. “What exactly would it take?”

      Heat pulsed between them for a solid second. He watched