“Absolutely!” she replied. Then, just because she was in a good mood, she added, “Your Highness.”
He’d already disappeared through the doorway, but he’d obviously heard her because he stuck his head back through the door. “You’re going to pay for that,” he warned.
At her laughter, he once again disappeared, and Rachel slapped her hand over her mouth, trying to hide her amusement. “Good grief,” she grumbled happily. “That man is…” she didn’t finish the sentence because too many “wrong” adjectives popped into her head. Describing Prince Tarin as horrible, sexy, gorgeous, or anything else was a bad move professionally.
Sitting down at her desk, she re-opened her laptop, still smiling at the short interchange with Prince Tarin. Working for Tarin was definitely different than working for Talia. The princess was kinder, asking for assistance and offering praise constantly. Rachel felt like a dynamo while in her employ.
Tarin was far more demanding, she thought. He didn’t ask, he ordered. But for some reason, she sort of liked that. She liked his autocratic demeanor. Maybe because…her head tilted slightly as she contemplated the differences in Tarin and Talia’s work methods. For the life of her, she couldn’t seem to figure out why she liked Tarin’s managerial style slightly better.
But she definitely understood why she liked his eyes! Rachel sighed wistfully, thinking about those teasing, hazel eyes of his. She loved the way he looked at her, as if he truly saw her and not just the overly efficient, prim, future-owner-of-twenty-cats lady.
No, the way he looked at her wasn’t the kind of look a man gave to a woman. It was just…sort of flattering in a strange, breathtaking way. Rachel was pretty sure that Tarin didn’t have any idea that his attention caused her body to crave unspoken things. He couldn’t ever know that her breasts tingled with awareness whenever he walked into a room. Good grief, that would be humiliating!
Pushing her completely irrelevant reactions to the man’s presence aside, she focused on work. Unfortunately, the project demands hadn’t really kicked in yet, so there wasn’t much to work through at this point. She suspected that she’d be swamped in a week or so, but right now, everything was slow.
“Great,” she muttered, slumping slightly over her desk and looking around for something more to accomplish. “Can’t go home, but why would I? Not much to do there either.” She leaned back in her chair and adjusted the folds of her flowered skirt more primly over her knees. “It isn’t even my home,” she grumbled, thinking about the luxurious apartment that the Izara government had allowed her to use for the duration of this project. But it wasn’t her home. She didn’t feel comfortable rearranging the furniture or hanging her pictures or…doing anything. Good grief, she even felt weird sleeping in the bed because it wasn’t made up with her personal sheets!
“I’m weird,” she sighed.
Chapter 4
“Come with me,” Tarin ordered, stepping into Rachel’s office and looking down at her startled face.
“What’s wrong?”
He couldn’t stop the frown as he took in her silk blouse and the pleated, navy skirt. He didn’t like the outfit. Not even a little! He preferred Rachel in the flowered things she normally wore. The flowered dresses and skirt just seemed…right on her.
Ignoring his irritation over her outfit, he shook his head. “Nothing. This way,” he urged as she circled her desk to follow.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
He slowed when he realized that she was almost running to keep up with him. He had to remind himself how tiny she was. “How tall are you?” he asked, turning right, heading towards the area of the palace where the more formal entertainments happened.
“I’m tall enough,” she snapped.
He laughed, shaking his head. “Seriously. Five six? Five five?”
Tarin watched her bristle with irritation, but she admitted, “I’m five feet, four inches tall. Which is tall enough for anything that I need to do.”
He laughed, thinking her umbrage was adorable in a sex-kitten sort of way. “Well, at six foot, four and a half, you’re teeny to me.”
She glared up at him. “I don’t see how my height is relevant to my employment.”
“It isn’t relevant to your employment. I just wanted to know,” he said, stopping in front of a set of double doors. “But at the moment, I’m going to teach you to dance, so I assure you, it’s relevant.” He pushed open the doors to reveal the palace ballroom.
Normally, there would be hundreds of guests milling around this room, networking and being seen. The lights would be brightly lit and there would be an orchestra set up in one corner. The ballroom could hold anywhere between five hundred and a thousand guests with enough space for mingling while tuxedo clad wait staff walked around with drinks and appetizers.
At the moment though, the room was empty and mostly dark. He flipped a few switches and soft lights came on, creating a more romantic effect than he’d anticipated, but appreciated.
“Dance?” she squeaked.
He ignored her stunned protest and walked over to the stereo system controls. He fiddled with a few of the dials and, a moment later, soft music flowed through the room. He looked up, listened for a moment, and nodded with approval.
“This will work,” he said, then turned to find Rachel watching him with huge, worried eyes.
“Come here,” he said reaching for her. “One hand on my shoulder and,” he took her other hand in his, feeling her trembling as he put his hand on her waist. “Just follow my lead,” he whispered.
With slow, deliberate movements, he led her through the steps of the foxtrot, not taking large steps, but enough so that she could learn the rhythm of the dance. “This is the basic step,” he told her. “Just form a square in your mind and let your feet follow.”
She stared at his chest, not daring to look him in the eye when they were so close. That was okay…for now. Soon though, he wanted her looking up at him when they danced.
“I…this feels awkward.”
He tightened his grip on her hand, warning her that he was going to turn slightly. “Why is that?” Tarin smiled with appreciation when she easily followed his lead. She was a natural!
“Because you’re my boss.”
He turned again and she deftly swiveled along with him. “Actually, Talia is your boss. You’re just helping me on a specific project.” He shifted again. “Relax and enjoy the music, Rachel.”
She took a deep breath, staring at his chest as she concentrated. “One, two, three, four,” she whispered.
“Stop counting,” he instructed gently. “Just feel the music. Feel my hands leading you through the steps.”
She smiled slightly, and stopped counting. As soon as she did that, the rhythm seemed to infect her legs and feet. She smiled up at him, her eyes bright with excitement and wonder.
“See?” he prompted, feeling her muscles relax. Even the nervous trembling seemed to subside.
“How did you learn to dance?” she asked.
He shifted so that they were dancing in a circle. He doubted that she even noticed.