Captured by the Billionaire. Robyn Donald

absorbed, so intent on each other that Serina felt a sharp stab of—regret?

      No, not quite. A kind of wistful envy.

      Just over a year previously she’d decided to make it clear to Gerd—without being so crass as to say the words—that she wasn’t on the market to become Grand Duchess of Carathia. Such a union would have solved a lot of her problems, and she admired Gerd very much, but she wanted more than a convenient marriage.

      Just as well, because shortly afterwards Gerd had taken one look at the Rosie he’d last seen as a child and lost his heart.

      What would it be like to feel that herself? To be loved so ardently that even in public their emotions were barely containable?

      Keeping her eyes on them, she said quietly, ‘They fit, don’t they.’ It wasn’t a question.

      Alex’s enigmatic glance, as polished as the steel-sheen on a sword blade, brought heat to her skin. What a foolish thing to say about a couple who’d just made their wedding vows!

      Of course they fitted. For now, anyway, she thought cynically. Somewhere she’d read that the first flush of love and passion lasted two years, so Gerd and Rosie would enjoy perhaps another year of this incandescent delight in each other before it began to fade.

      ‘Perceptive of you,’Alex commented in a level voice. ‘Yes, they fit.’

      The music swelled, accompanied by a whirl of colour and movement as everyone joined in the dance, swirling around the absorbed couple.

      Serina braced herself. Nerves taut, she rested one hand on Alex’s shoulder and felt his fingers close around the other as he swung her into the waltz. Anticipation sizzled through her—heady, compelling, so unnerving that after a few steps she stumbled.

      Alex’s arm clamped her against his lean, athletic body for breathless seconds before he drawled, ‘Relax, Princess.’

      His warm breath on her skin sent tiny, delicious shudders through her, a gentler counterpoint to the sultry heat that burgeoned deeply within her at the intimate flexing of his thigh muscles. Shocked by the immediacy of her response, Serina pulled herself a safe distance away and forced herself to ignore the sensual tug until her natural sense of rhythm settled her steps.

      This acute physical response—jungle drums of sensation pounding through her—had sprung into action the first time she’d met Alex. Gritting her teeth, she resisted the tantalising thrill, sharp and adrenalin-charged as though she faced a sudden danger.

      Did he feel the same?

      She risked an upward glance, heart racing into overdrive when she met searing, disturbingly intent eyes. His grip didn’t tighten, but she sensed a quickening in him that he couldn’t control.

      Yes, she thought triumphantly, before a flurry of panic squelched that intoxicating emotion.

      Swallowing, she said in her most remote tone, ‘Sorry. I wasn’t concentrating.’

      Then wondered uneasily if the admission had hinted at her body’s wilful blooming.

      Rapidly she added brightly, ‘This has been one of the most charming weddings I’ve ever attended. Rosie is so happy, and it’s lovely to see Gerd utterly smitten.’

      ‘Yet you seem a little distracted. Is something worrying you?’ Alex enquired smoothly.

      Well, yes—several things, in fact, with one in particular nagging at her mind.

      But Alex wasn’t referring to her brother. He’d have noticed that plenty of eyes around the ballroom were fixed on her, some pitying, others malicious. Of the two she preferred the spite, although a hissed aside that had been pitched carefully to reach her ears still stung.

      ‘It must be like eating bitter aloes for her,’ a French duchess had said.

      Her blonde companion had returned on a laugh, ‘I’ll bet the brother’s furious—once she failed to land Prince Gerd they lost their best chance of clawing their way out of poverty. And losing out to a nobody must be bitter indeed.’

      Not everyone was as catty, but she’d noticed enough abruptly terminated conversations and parried enough speculative glances to know what many of the guests were thinking.

      Let them think what they liked! Pride stiffening her spine, she smiled up at Alex. Oh, not too widely, in case those watchers suspected her of acting—but with a slow, amused glimmer that should give some of the eager gossipers a few seconds of thought.

      ‘I’m not distracted, and nothing’s wrong,’ she told him, her tone level and deliberate.

      His black brows climbed for a second. ‘As you’ve probably noticed, quite a few people here are wondering whether you’re regretting a missed opportunity.’

      At least he’d come out and said it. She tilted her head and met his calculating scrutiny with unwavering steadiness, praying he couldn’t see how brittle she was beneath the surface self-possession.

      ‘About as much as Gerd is,’ she returned coolly, hoping she’d banished every trace of defiance from her voice.

      Alex’s mouth—unsoftened by its compelling hint of sensuality—relaxed into a smile that was more challenge than amusement. ‘Indeed?’

      ‘Indeed,’ she returned, infusing the word with complete assurance.

      ‘Good.’

      She shot him a questioning glance, parrying a look that sent a quiver the full length of her spine. He let his gaze wander across her face, finally settling it on her lips. A voluptuous excitement smouldered through her.

      Surely—yes, she thought with a triumph so complete she could feel it radiating through her—he was flirting with her. And she was going to respond.

      But first she had to know something. That suspect recklessness gave her the courage to say, ‘I’m surprised you’re alone this week.’

      His latest reputed lover was a gloriously beautiful Greek heiress, quite recently divorced. Rumour had it that Alex had been the reason for the marriage breakup but Serina found that difficult to believe. He was noted for an iron-bound sense of integrity, and it seemed unlikely he’d let a passing fancy for a beautiful woman compromise that.

      However, she thought with another spurt of cynicism, what did she really know about him? Nothing, except that he’d used his formidable intelligence, ruthless drive and an uncompromising authority to build a worldwide business empire.

      Besides, his fancy for his Greek lover might not be passing.

      Alex’s tone was matter-of-fact. ‘Why? I have no partner or significant other.’

      So that was that. Neither have I seemed far too much like a bald, much too obvious invitation.

      Serina contented herself with a short nod, and kept her eyes fixed on the throng whirling behind him. He was an excellent dancer, moving with the lithe, muscular grace of an athlete, and wearing his formal clothes with a kind of lethal elegance that proclaimed the powerful body beneath.

      ‘So what’s ahead for you?’Alex asked coolly. ‘More of the same?’

      ‘More weddings? No one else I know is getting married in the immediate future,’ she returned, deflecting the query.

      He met her glance with a glinting one of his own. ‘You’re happy just doing the social round?’

      A little shortly, Serina replied, ‘Actually, I’m planning to go back to school.’

      Alex’s gaze sharpened. ‘You surprise me. I thought you’d settled into being Rassel’s muse.’

      ‘We decided he needed a new one,’ she told him without rancour.

      Her time with the up-and-coming Parisian fashion designer had been stimulating but, although losing the very generous salary was a blow, she’d been relieved when he’d decided