Royals Untamed!. Annie West

and Annabelle had definitely started to crumble. The little girl wasn’t completely ignoring her any more. Yesterday she’d sat next to Ruby as she’d thumbed through a book. After a while Ruby had asked her if she wanted her to read the story and Annabelle had given a little nod and slid closer.

      It was a small step, but gaining Annabelle’s trust was the most important thing of all.

      She picked up another of the dresses. It was yellow—a colour she never usually wore—and it matched the sun outside and the flowers in the garden directly beneath her window.

      She slipped off her T-shirt and Capri pants. The dress dropped over her head and fitted her curves as if it had been specially made for her. Everything was covered, from the round neckline to the flouncy skirt that fell to her knees. She reached behind to fasten the zip. It was a little tricky. She managed to pull it up to her bra strap. Then she reached her hands above her shoulders and over her back, trying to pull the material of the dress a little higher and grasp the zipper.

      Someone cleared his throat loudly. She spun around.

      She hadn’t thought to close the door after Rufus had left. No one ever seemed to come down this corridor.

      ‘Alex!’ Colour flooded into her cheeks.

      He was leaning in the doorway, his hands folded across his chest, with a cheeky smile on his face. She hadn’t even heard his footsteps.

      ‘What are you doing here?’

      His smile just seemed to get broader. ‘Looks like I’m helping a damsel in distress.’ He stepped into the room and twirled his finger. ‘Go on—spin around and I’ll fasten it for you.’

      It was amazing how quickly his presence could cause a buzz in the air around her. She sucked in a breath as she turned around.

      Fastening a zip should take the briefest of seconds. But Alex waited. She could feel the material of her dress shifting slightly. The zipper must be in his hand. Then he stepped forward, closing the gap between them.

      His head was at her shoulder. She could smell his aftershave—it was coiling its way around her. Who was the snake in that childhood film? Kaa, in The Jungle Book—with the hypnotic eyes that could make you do anything that he wanted. She was pretty sure Alex’s eyes would have the same effect on her.

      ‘I’m sorry I snapped at you,’ he said quietly. ‘I thought something was wrong with Annabelle.’

      ‘Okay...’ That was all she replied. Her breath was still caught somewhere between her chest and her throat. It was all she was capable of saying right now.

      There was a drumming noise in her ears. Her heart was thudding against her chest as she waited to see what would happen next.

      ‘I thought today we could go back to the café with Annabelle—like you asked me to.’

      She smiled. Did that mean her mistake was being forgotten, or was this part of his apology? He still hadn’t moved. He still hadn’t fastened her zipper.

      She nodded. Not breathing was getting difficult. ‘Okay.’

      ‘Do you like the dresses?’

      She could feel his breath warm the skin on her shoulder.

      ‘I love them—but I don’t need them. Rufus didn’t need to do that.’

      ‘He didn’t do it.’

      She froze. One of his hands moved and rested on her hip.

      This was all becoming remarkably familiar. Richard Gere was going to appear any second now. Didn’t he buy Vivian a new wardrobe in Pretty Woman?

      Her profession might not compare with Vivian’s, but the thought of Alex purchasing a whole wardrobe for her was both mildly disturbing and somehow exciting. She didn’t know whether to be insulted or overjoyed.

      ‘I don’t think I like this, Alex. You can’t buy me. You can’t dress me up as if I’m your little doll.’ She could feel her stomach tighten.

      But Alex just shook his head. ‘I’m not buying you, Ruby. I don’t care whether you wear the clothes or not.’ He waved his hand. ‘If you don’t like them give them away—give them to charity. It makes no difference to me.’

      He stepped a little closer.

      ‘I guess I’m just not good at this. I’m trying to say sorry. Sorry about how I reacted over Annabelle. For a second I thought she was gone. I thought someone had kidnapped my daughter—I overreacted. And...’ He waved his hands again. ‘This is how I say sorry. Doesn’t every woman like clothes?’

      The tightness in her chest dissipated. It was clear he meant every word.

      ‘What are you going to do if it happens again?’

      He smiled. ‘Silent alarms. Everywhere. If Annabelle opens her door in the middle of the night alarms will go off in my room, Brigette’s room and in Security.’ He looked over his shoulder and whispered. ‘And, don’t tell her, but we’ve actually had tracking devices sewn into all her pyjamas.’

      She laughed. He was sorry, and he’d put steps in place to ensure Annabelle’s safety. Of course he had. She hadn’t doubted that for a second, but it made her mood lighten.

      He nudged her, and pointed to the dresses as he slid a hand around her waist.

      ‘Which is your favourite?’

      He was so close. His lips were almost touching her ear. If she just moved her head a little...

      ‘The blue one.’

      ‘Why?’

      ‘I like the colour.’ The rush of blood was heating her cheeks. Her answer had been automatic.

      She was conscious of the lightness of his fingers on her hip. Would he make the connection between the colour of the dress and the colour of his eyes? No. Guys didn’t do that kind of thing.

      This time his lips did brush against her ear. ‘I like the red one. It reminds me of you in Paris. The same colour as your coat.’

      A whole host of tiny centipedes were marching along her arms with their hundreds of legs, making every single hair stand on end.

      His finger touched the skin of her back. She gasped. It wasn’t cold—it was just unexpected. A thousand butterfly wings had just exploded on her back, and all the little nerve-endings were waiting for the next sensation.

      He bent a little lower and whispered in her ear again. This time it felt as if his breath was caressing her skin.

      ‘Ten years is a long time, Ruby.’

      He pulled the zipper up with his finger inside, then ran it along the upper end of her spine, resting his fingers at the base of her neck.

      Her legs were turning to jelly. It was ridiculous. It was nothing. But she felt as if she’d waited ten years for that.

      Ten years of dreaming. Ten years of imagining. Ten years of hoping.

      She stepped backwards. Against him. Into him. Feeling the full length of his body next to hers. Her eyes were fixed outside, on the gardens. If she turned around and looked at those blue eyes she might do something much more inappropriate than fall asleep next to his daughter.

      She rested her head back against his chest. ‘Yes, it is.’

      Her voice was tinged with sadness.

      They both stood there—neither moving. It was almost as if they were happy for this to be the first tiny step. The first real acknowledgment that their time ten years ago hadn’t just been a figment of her imagination that she’d played over and over in her head.

      She could feel the rise and fall of his chest against her back. The heat from his body through the thin fabric of her dress. It felt natural. It felt as if this was exactly the place she was supposed to stand. As if this was exactly the