Passion, Purity and the Prince. Annie West
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out a slow breath. ‘And if someone put those pages together?’
‘No.’ She shook her head then paused, frowning. ‘It’s not possible.’ Yet she didn’t look so certain.
Alaric determined to get his hands on the pages as soon as possible.
‘It would have been better to keep this in house.’ Even if it turned out this was a mistake, rumour could destabilise a delicate situation.
Fine eyebrows arched high on her pale forehead.
‘Ruvingia doesn’t have the capacity “in house” to run such tests.’ She paused and he watched her drag in quick breaths, obviously battling strong emotion.
‘I apologise if I’ve overstepped the mark.’ Her tone said he was being unreasonable. ‘I would have checked with you earlier but it’s been hard getting an appointment.’
Touché. Meeting to discuss the royal archives hadn’t been on his priorities.
‘How long before you get the results?’
She launched into detail of how the document would be authenticated, her face growing animated. All the while he was busy reckoning the risks posed by this discovery. The need to verify her findings and keep the situation under wraps.
Yet he found himself watching her closely as she shed that shell of spiky reserve. There was a fire in her that had been lacking before. Or had it been hidden behind her starchy demeanour?
Despite the gravity of the situation, something in Alaric that was all male, functioning at the most primitive level, stirred.
Behind her dowdy appearance he sensed heat and passion in this woman.
He’d always been attracted by passion.
Alaric wrenched his mind back to the problem at hand.
‘A short wait, then, before the results come through. In the meantime, who has access to this chronicle?’
‘Only me. The assistant from your national museum is working on other material.’
‘Good. We’ll keep it that way.’ Alaric would personally arrange for it to be kept under lock and key.
‘I’m also keeping my eyes open for other papers that might confirm or disprove what I’ve found. There’s still a lot to investigate.’
There could be more? Even if this document conveniently disappeared there might be others?
Damn. A simple solution had been tempting. An accident to destroy the evidence and remove the problem. Yet it would only make precautions around the remaining documents tighter and subsequent accidents more suspicious.
Self-knowledge warred with duty. The former told him the country would be better off in his cousin Raul’s hands. The latter urged Alaric to face his responsibility no matter how unpalatable.
He speared a hand through his hair and paced, his belly churning. In thirty years he’d never shirked his duty, no matter how painful.
He’d warn Raul. They’d develop a contingency plan and make a discreet enquiry of the royal genealogist, a historian known for his expertise and discretion. Alaric needed to know if this far-fetched story was even possible.
Genuine or not, the papers were dynamite. If spare copies existed, and if Tamsin Connors was the innocent, earnest professional she appeared, he needed her onside.
If she was what she appeared.
Was it possible forged papers had been planted for her to find and disrupt Raul’s coronation? Unlikely. Yet how convenient she’d found them after just a couple of weeks.
Too convenient?
He narrowed his gaze, taking in her heavy-framed glasses and appalling clothes. The way her gaze continually slipped away from his.
His gut tightened at the idea she was hiding something. A link to those stirring discontent? It was preposterous, but so was this situation.
He’d get to the bottom of it soon.
Meanwhile Tamsin Connors had his undivided attention.
‘Of course, I understand,’ Tamsin murmured into the phone.
She should be disappointed by the news she’d received. She was disappointed, but she was distracted by the man prowling the confines of the workroom. His long stride gave an impression of controlled impatience, at odds with his meticulous interest in every detail.
Intently she watched every move, miserably aware Prince Alaric didn’t need a splendid uniform to show off his physique. In dark trousers, plain T-shirt and a jacket, he was compelling in the afternoon light.
Until last night she hadn’t known she had a weakness for tall broad-shouldered men who looked like they could take on the world. For men whose eyes laughed one minute and clouded with grim emotion the next as if he saw things no man should.
She’d thought she preferred men driven by academic pursuits, preferably fresh faced and blond, like Patrick. Not sizzling with barely suppressed physical energy.
How wrong she’d been.
Her skin drew tight, every nerve end buzzing, as he paced.
‘Thank you for calling. I appreciate it.’ Carefully she put the phone down.
‘A problem?’ He approached, eyes watchful.
Tamsin dragged in a breath and placed her hands on the desk. She’d prayed her reaction last night had been an aberration. But seeing him in the flesh again scotched every hope that she’d imagined her response to his potent masculinity. His vitality, that sense of power and capability, were as fascinating as his stunning looks.
With his black hair, midnight-blue eyes, high-cut cheekbones and strong nose, he looked every inch the powerful aristocrat. Yet his mouth was that of a seducer: warm, provocative and sensual.
Tamsin blinked. Where had that come from?
‘Dr Connors?’
‘Sorry. I was…thinking.’ Frantically she tried to focus. ‘I’ve just heard the date test will be delayed.’
He frowned and she hurried on. ‘I’d hoped for an early result on the age of the parchment but it will take longer than I’d hoped.’
The reasons she’d just been given were plausible. But the embarrassed way Patrick’s assistant repeated herself made Tamsin suspicious.
Wasn’t it enough Patrick had stolen the job that was by rights Tamsin’s? He’d been the first man to show any interest in her, cruelly using her naïve crush to string her along. All those extra hours she’d put in helping him and he’d passed her work off as his own. He’d been promoted on the basis of it then dumped her unceremoniously. Pride had stopped her revealing his duplicity and her own lack of judgement. Instead she’d withdrawn even further into herself, nursing a bruised heart and vowing never to risk it again so readily.
Was he low enough to stymie this project, too?
Once it would never have occurred to her. Now she wondered if the whisper she’d heard was right and he saw her as a professional threat.
Would he really let ego get in the way of scientific research? The idea sickened her. How had she not seen his true character?
‘They’re returning the papers?’ The prince’s eyes sparked indigo fire and she watched, fascinated.
‘Not yet. Hopefully it won’t be a long delay.’
Tamsin watched his mouth compress. He was impatient. Despite what he’d said last night, he must be excited at the possibility of becoming king. Who wouldn’t be?
‘These are the rest of the newly found documents?’ He gestured to the storage down one side of the long room.
‘A